"Name?"

  "John."

  "Age?"

  "Eighteen."

  "Are you alone?"

  The middle-aged priest in a black robe stared at the pale young man in front of him, his fingers gently brushing the cross around his neck, a flicker of thought crossing his eyes. The boy looked perfectly sane—nothing like someone tormented by evil spirits...

  In the next second, the boy lowered his head to stare at his hands and feet, his voice tinged with uncertainty: "Uh... Biologically speaking, I suppose... I am human?"

  "??"

  The priest jolted, instantly discarding his earlier judgment—there was definitely something off about this kid.

  He suppressed his surprise, forcing a warm smile, and explained patiently: "What I mean is, did you come here alone? No family or friends with you?"

  "No, just me."

  John shook his head, quietly letting out a sigh of relief. The priest’s serious expression a moment ago had almost made him doubt his own humanity. After all, he did have an "abnormal condition" that set him apart from others.

  The priest let the bizarre answer drop, changing the subject: "Tell me about your troubles, child."

  At this, John leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper: "Father, I think... I’ve lost the ability to feel fear!"

  "Hmm?" The priest blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

  "Put simply, nothing in this world scares me anymore."

  "Then go make a fool of yourself in the middle of the marketplace."

  "??"

  John’s face froze. Is this how the church grants absolution? he wondered. That’s utterly ridiculous...

  "Feeling embarrassed now?" The priest raised an eyebrow, calling out loudly: "Next!"

  "Father, wait a second!" John quickly stopped him. "I think I didn’t explain myself clearly."

  "It’s not that I fear nothing—it’s just certain things that don’t faze me at all."

  "Certain things like what?"

  "Like squatting alone in the public restroom at the cemetery late at night, watching horror movies. Most people would be scared out of their wits, but I feel absolutely nothing. In fact, I even find it a little thrilling..."

  Before the priest could respond, John added: "Or eating snail noodles in the graveyard in the dead of night. Not a trace of fear crosses my mind—instead, my appetite gets better."

  "Public restroom? Snail noodles?"

  The priest was completely dumbfounded. In all his years serving the Lord, he had never heard of such an absurd "ailment." More than lacking fear, this boy’s thought process seemed seriously skewed...

  After a long pause, the priest took a deep breath, trying to process the information: "So you’re completely immune to things that are scary, gory, or spine-chilling?"

  "As far as I can tell, yes." John nodded. "To test it out, I’ve binged countless horror movies lately, and I still felt absolutely nothing."

  "Very well, I think I understand your situation."

  "Father, is there any hope for me?" John asked eagerly, his eyes wide. "Honestly, I’ve seen so many doctors already, and they all told me to come to the church for guidance."

  "Don’t worry too much, child." The priest comforted him, handing over a small vial of holy water. "This is blessed holy water. Drink a small sip every morning when you wake up—it will calm your restless mind. You’re a senior in high school, aren’t you? Excessive academic pressure can throw your mind out of balance."

  "Just holy water?" Disappointment flickered in John’s eyes. "Given how ‘severe’ my condition is, can’t I be admitted directly to the church’s hermitage?"

  "???"

  The priest was left speechless by the boy’s regretful tone, his mind going completely blank.

  "Child, that’s a place for penitents to atone for their sins—not some exciting new destination!"

  "Uh... It’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it?"

  "??"

  Seeing the priest’s strange expression, John quickly composed himself, speaking earnestly: "I heard the monks in the hermitage are all incredibly talented, full of fascinating stories. I might even learn a thing or two from them..."

  "You’re still young, and this is just an early symptom of mental imbalance. Take the holy water first and see if it helps, alright?" The priest persuaded him patiently. "Besides, you’re still in school—why on earth would you want to go into seclusion?!"

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  He was starting to realize now—the boy’s biggest problem wasn’t losing his fear at all...

  "......"

  John sighed regretfully, clutching the vial of holy water as he turned and left the confessional.

  Watching his retreating figure, the priest muttered to himself: "Maybe this boy really should spend a few days in the hermitage..."

  ......

  "Will this holy water even work?"

  John muttered to himself, clutching the clear liquid as he walked out the side door of the church.

  Just then, a calm voice suddenly sounded behind him: "Boy, that ailment of yours—holy water won’t cure it."

  "Hmm?"

  John froze, turning around to see an old man wrapped in a tattered cloak sitting on the bench outside the church. The old man lifted his hood slightly, revealing a pair of cloudy yet sharp eyes, and said slowly: "I see a dark aura lingering around you, your whole body shrouded in yin energy. You’ve been haunted by evil spirits—holy water is useless against that."

  "Come on, old man." John’s expression turned odd. "This is a church, for heaven’s sake. Spouting this nonsense here—are you trying to pick a fight?"

  "I’m just passing through," the old man smiled faintly. "I couldn’t bear to see a young man trapped by evil spirits." He paused, then asked: "Have you been to any places heavy with yin energy lately?"

  "Yeah, I’ve been taking walks in the cemetery when I have nothing better to do."

  "??"

  John ignored the old man’s stunned look, grinning as he pressed further: "So, master—what’s the cure for my ‘condition’?"

  "This is an evil-repelling talisman I drew myself..."

  "Let me guess—998 bucks to keep all evil spirits away?" John cut him off, raising an eyebrow. "Do you even know what year it is, old man?"

  "It’s free."

  "Now that’s what I call a master!"

  The old man’s words hit the nail on the head, and John’s face instantly lit up with a wide smile. Why didn’t he say it was free earlier? That was the right attitude!

  "......"

  The old man shook his head helplessly, pulling a crudely drawn yellow talisman from his pocket and handing it to John before standing up to leave.

  "This thing counts as a talisman?"

  John grumbled under his breath, but his hand honestly took the talisman and stuffed it into his pocket. Free stuff was free stuff—you’d be a fool to turn it down.

  Just then, the old man’s voice rang out again, solemn and serious: "Remember this, boy—when you face evil spirits, don’t be afraid. Courage is your sharpest weapon!"

  With that, the old man’s figure merged into the crowd on the street and disappeared without a trace.

  "Huh? Telling me not to be afraid?"

  John froze for a moment, chuckling to himself in amusement: "So you didn’t even figure out what my real problem was, huh?"

  He shook his head, the "master" image he’d just formed in his mind crumbling instantly. Still—why would this old man give him a talisman for nothing?

  "Could it be some kind of sketchy advertisement?"

  He pulled the talisman out again, flipping it over and inspecting it from every angle. Confirming there were no phone numbers printed on it, he stuffed it back into his pocket with relief.

  ......

  Night fell.

  John sat on his sofa at home, two items laid out on the coffee table in front of him—a small vial of holy water and the yellow talisman.

  "Gotta trust science after all..."

  He picked up the vial of holy water, downing it in one gulp, and muttered to himself: "Hope this works."

  Next, his gaze fell on the talisman. An idea sparked in his mind, and he got up and walked into the bathroom.

  "They say bathrooms are full of yin energy—you can stay here and ward off evil spirits."

  With that, he stuck the talisman directly onto the toilet’s flush handle.

  "Not bad—kinda makes for a decent decoration."

  John smiled in satisfaction, turning to walk over to the sink to get ready for bed.

  He looked up at his reflection in the mirror, chuckling self-deprecatingly: "Who even believes in evil spirits these days anyway?"

  As soon as the words left John’s mouth, his reflection in the mirror nodded seriously—as if in wholehearted agreement.

  "See? Even you don’t believe in that stuff... Wait a minute?!"