Chapter 38: Answering the Questions

The scarred man’s heart skipped a beat as he observed the teacher’s abrupt shift in demeanor, and he instantly tensed up. The death of the burly man served as a grim reminder: if he wanted to survive until the final exam in three days, he could not let the horrors of this school discover his true identity. He had to play his part perfectly. Forcing himself to remain calm, the scarred man stood silently against the wall in the back row.

Among the students, several concealed figures trembled with fear, silently praying that the ghost teacher would not notice them. Without a doubt, these individuals were also players who had entered the game.

Huan Xiao carefully surveyed the classroom. By her count, there were at least six or seven players, while the total number of students in the room was around sixty.

...There are quite a lot of players this time.

Huan Xiao watched as the ghost teacher stepped onto the podium, and some of the ghost students began to sneakily engage in mischief under their desks again. Huan Xiao lowered her head, pulled out her phone from the desk drawer, and found that the classmates around her were accustomed to such behavior; nothing happened. It was evident that the teachers and students of this school belonged to different factions.

A line of blood-red text appeared before her eyes:
"Welcome to Ghost School. Perhaps you’d like to participate in the tense and thrilling final exam in three days? I’ll come to pick you up after the exam is over."

Huan Xiao thought: Thanks for the invite, but I’d rather not.

The mission this time was the exam in three days. However, Huan Xiao’s first thought wasn't about the test, but rather: what would she eat for the next three days? Did the Ghost School even have food for normal humans?

Setting aside the concerns of daily life for the moment, Huan Xiao flipped open her textbook. It contained standard high school mathematics, nearly identical to the real world, though some parts differed—such as slight variations in names and mathematical symbols. Yet, it was visibly just a normal math textbook. Did one still have to study even after becoming a ghost? Were ghosts really this competitive?

Her name, Xiao Huan, was written on the book.
...Wait, that was the fake name she had used in her previous game?

Huan Xiao touched the handwriting on the page; it was dry, and the penmanship was unmistakably her own. This discovery left her awestruck by the game’s omnipotence. It was like an omnipresent deity, capable of tracking everyone’s every move. Who exactly created this horror game? Huan Xiao knew full well that this was not a question she could solve right now.

The classroom was stifling and unlit. After witnessing the fates of the three previous players, the remaining players dared not whisper to one another, terrified of being plucked out by the ghost teacher like a rat. But their docility did not mean that danger was averted.

The ghost teacher, who had been explaining a problem on the podium, suddenly paused and asked, "Who would like to come up and solve this problem?"

The ghost teacher’s gaze swept across the entire room. Both the humans and the ghosts lowered their heads, terrified of being called upon. A heavy silence fell over the classroom. Not a single person volunteered—neither the ghost students nor the players dared to raise a hand.

Just as the players were bracing themselves for the ghost to fly into a rage, the teacher simply shook his head and said, "Gao Yang, come up and solve this."

"Yes."

The scarred man walked to the podium, his mind a blank, staring helplessly at the mathematical symbols without being able to put pen to paper. What kind of ghostly scribbles were these? He didn’t have a clue. He had returned all his school knowledge to his teachers long ago; expecting him to solve this was just making things difficult for him. Why did ghosts have to study anyway?!

The scarred man hesitated for a long time, torn between scribbling a random answer and admitting he didn't know how to do it.

"Think carefully. This is what I just explained."

The ghost teacher remained good-tempered, guiding the scarred man to finish the problem. But these words sent a shiver of dread down the scarred man’s spine. Could it be that writing the wrong answer meant death?

That was it. That was the true nature of this horror game. He had subconsciously mistaken the ghost for a gentle human simply because of the teacher's disguise. Was there anything more terrifying than knowing someone was a ghost and still mistaking them for a person? Under the ghost teacher's influence, he had almost forgotten that this creature had killed a living person just moments ago—a fatal mistake in the horror game!

Cold sweat broke out on the scarred man’s palms, and he felt his inner turmoil intensify. Seeing him stand there holding the chalk without moving, the ghost teacher shook his head.

"Sigh, it seems you weren't listening carefully."

He sighed with regret, his tone remaining gentle, as if he were merely troubled by the student’s failure to pay attention. The scarred man’s heart tightened. Then, a flash of insight struck him. He just needed to maintain his role as a student; looking at all the students goofing off in the classroom, it should be normal for him not to know the answer. Yes, that was it. If he just honestly admitted he didn't know, he might be able to scrape by.

Thinking this, the scarred man no longer hesitated and said, "Teacher, I don't know how."

After speaking, he watched the ghost teacher’s reaction closely, trying to determine if he had made the right choice. As he had hoped, the ghost teacher was not angry.

"If you don't know, then so be it. You are still in the learning stage; it’s no big deal if you don't understand."

The scarred man felt a surge of joy. It worked!

However, unlike the joy felt by the scarred man on the podium, Huan Xiao noticed that the students below, upon hearing his admission, stopped goofing off and turned their greedy gazes toward him. It was as if they were anticipating a scene they had been waiting for.

Just as the scarred man put down the chalk and prepared to sneak back to his seat, the ghost teacher added from behind him:

"However, a student who isn't clever is certainly not from our class... You are a rat, too."

As soon as these words fell, the students near the scarred man revealed their true forms. Beneath their smooth skin, festering wounds emerged, as if they had been scorched by fire, leaving not a single patch of healthy skin. Hideous scars covered their entire bodies. Before the scarred man could react, they swarmed him, tearing him apart and consuming him.

In just a few seconds, the living man vanished, leaving only a smear of blood on the floor to prove he had ever existed.

"Alright, the insignificant clutter is gone. Let’s ask another student to come up and solve the problem."

The ghost teacher wore a warm, gentle smile, yet every player under his gaze felt a bone-chilling cold.

*Don't pick me, don't pick me.*

This was the silent prayer of every player. They hadn't expected that in just one class, two players would die and one would go missing. With such a mortality rate, they were expected to wait in this school until the final exam on the third day? Given this level of difficulty, could even a single person possibly survive?

But no matter how they prayed, the ghost teacher intended to call on someone. He pointed a finger at a woman among the players and said, "You..."

The woman gritted her teeth, bowing her head as she struggled to hold back tears.

*Ding-a-ling—*

At that moment, the bell for the end of class rang out.