In that split second,

  a shrill scream cut through the air.

  John’s head jolted again, his mind going completely blank.

  The ghost below him broke free of his grip in an instant. It didn’t dare fight back, turning and fleeing for the door without a second glance…

  “Goddamn it, this trick again?”

  John snapped back to his senses a heartbeat later, realizing the ghost was gone from his grasp.

  He didn’t hesitate, bolting after it at once.

  In the lobby, the sight of the vicious ghost sent everyone screaming, all the knowledge they’d learned vanishing from their minds in an instant.

  The ghost’s eyes blazed with bitter hatred as it lashed out, snatching a male student from the crowd—

  the very same boy who’d tried to morally coerce John earlier. Staring at the ghost’s horrific form, terror flooded his heart, consuming him entirely.

  He hadn’t stirred up trouble to antagonize John.

  He’d done it because he was terrified, desperate to flee the hotel as quickly as possible.

  Now, that very fear had become his death warrant, marking him as the ghost’s first target.

  As the ghost’s supernatural power invaded his body, his cinnabar bracelet shattered into tiny shards, and his life force was snuffed out in the blink of an eye.

  That intangible terror fed the ghost, mending its wounds slightly.

  It glanced back, and at the sight of John charging toward it, it flinched violently. It didn’t dare kill anyone else, spinning and darting for the stairs instead…

  It moved with terrifying speed, so fast John could barely keep up.

  But just as it reached the second floor, a bloodcurdling shriek tore from it. Its body crumpled forward, and putrid, rotting ichor splattered across the floor.

  “Huh?”

  John paused, stunned, instantly spotting something was wrong with it.

  Strike while the iron is hot—and finish it off!

  He didn’t waste the opportunity, slamming his fist into the ghost and sending it flying. Then he unleashed another round of brutal, gory violence, just like before.

  The ghost wailed and howled, its eyes fixed on the upper floors, wide with disbelief.

  Its ghostly ability had been neutralized!

  Upstairs, in the empty Room 4024, the bathroom mirror spiderwebbed with cracks.

  Then a pale, jade-like hand slithered out of the glass, unnatural and eerie.

  A man with a furious scowl climbed out of the mirror,

  “Goddamn it, I walked right into a trap.”

  Ron licked his lips, his eyes blazing with anger.

  He’d come to scout the supernatural scene ahead of time, never expecting to be trapped by the ghost.

  “It’s been almost a full day…”

  Ron glanced at the sky outside, then his eyes widened in realization.

  “Shit—the Intelligence Division’s assessment!”

  His face paled. While he’d been trapped, the ghost had slipped away.

  Disaster was about to strike!

  He didn’t hesitate, racing down to the first floor—he’d heard the chaos from a distance, after all.

  Sure enough, over a hundred students huddled together in panic, the lobby in complete disarray.

  When Ron appeared, their terror spiked to new heights. Some even bolted for the hotel doors, throwing caution to the wind!

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  “Stop!”

  Ron’s brow furrowed. He channeled his supernatural power and let out a thunderous shout that silenced the crowd in an instant.

  “Ron… Instructor? Or a ghost?”

  Ethan stepped forward, voice tight with wariness, testing the waters.

  “Huh? What do you think?”

  Ron blinked, then held out his pale, jade-like right hand. Waves of supernatural power emanated from it.

  Relief washed over Ethan. He called out to the crowd,

  “It’s Instructor Ron! Everyone, don’t be afraid!!”

  At Ethan’s words, the students relaxed—if only slightly—but none dared draw near Ron.

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “Instructor Ron, go help John first! He’s dealing with the ghost right now!”

  “John?”

  Ron paused, then the memory of the boy clicked into place at once—

  the broken bones were still fresh in his mind…

  “Yeah. He dragged the ghost off, said he was gonna bless its soul or something, then headed into the bathroom.”

  “Dragged it off? Bless its soul? The bathroom?!”

  A huge question mark practically materialized on Ron’s forehead…

  What the hell was with this bizarre vibe?

  Moments later, Ethan led Ron to the bathroom on the second floor.

  Ron raised his hand to knock—only for John to step out, his expression calm as ever.

  Their eyes met head-on.

  “Pay up the protection fee!!”

  John launched himself at Ron in a flash, his fist hurtling toward the man’s face.

  “Huh?”

  Ron was caught off guard, but as a Spirit Wielder, his combat instincts kicked in at once.

  BOOM!

  Ron shot out his right hand, covered by a human-skin glove, and caught John’s fist dead-on.

  “Good thing I used my bound spirit…”

  He let out a silent sigh of relief. Without it, he might not have blocked that punch so easily.

  “Are you out of your mind, kid?”

  Ron’s mouth twitched. He’d never imagined the first thing the boy would do upon seeing him was try to kill him…

  “…”

  John tensed to strike again—then his eyes fell on the human-skin glove, and realization dawned. It was really Ron.

  “Uh…”

  He froze, then unfisted his hand and patted Ron’s glove awkwardly, grinning sheepishly.

  “Instructor Ron, your bound spirit is pretty awesome….”

  “…”

  Ron’s mouth twitched again as he yanked his hand back.

  You’re actually insane.

  He shook his head, deciding to let the incident slide for now.

  “Where’s the ghost?”

  “I killed it.”

  “Killed it?”

  Ron blinked, surprise flashing in his eyes.

  He’d known John was a little different, but the boy was still just a regular human. That ghost had managed to trap him—it was no weakling.

  And yet, John had beaten it to death?

  “Can’t be helped. I’ve had an itch to punch something lately.”

  John shrugged. “It just had to run right into me. Timing’s everything, I guess.”

  “…”

  A vein popped out on Ron’s forehead.

  For the love of God, do you have to act like a tough guy every single time?

  “Where’s the ghost’s corpse? I think it was a Cursed Corpse Ghost, right?”

  “I smashed it to bits. Flushed it down the toilet.”

  “??? ”

  Ron’s eyes bulged out of his head. “You flushed it down the toilet?”

  With that, he stormed into the bathroom. Aside from a few splatters of rotting ichor on the floor, there was no trace of the ghost at all.

  “Aren’t you afraid you’ll clog the toilet?”

  He’d planned to take the corpse back for official research.

  And this kid had just… flushed it.

  John shrugged, his tone casual.

  “Nah. Chop it up fine enough, and it’s clean, neat, and leaves no trace.”

  “Huh?”

  Ron turned to him, his gaze sharp. “You an old hand at this?!”

  He stared at the spotless bathroom, doubt creeping in. Was this really something a regular kid could pull off?

  Does this guy have a rap sheet or something?

  “Uh…”

  John met his suspicious stare and realized his mistake, hurrying to explain.

  “I just picked it up online….”

  “Is that so….”

  “Instructor, you don’t believe me, do you?”

  “Of course I do. You’re my student, after all—I trust you.”

  Ron smiled, then turned to Ethan beside him.

  “Ethan, run a background check on this kid later.”

  “…”

  John’s mouth twitched. This is what you call trust? You trust I’ve got a criminal record, is that it…

  “Oh, right, Instructor. What’s this?”

  He held out his right hand. Resting in his palm was a pure white, flawless orb.

  “I tried to… uh… flush it, but it wouldn’t go down.”

  Ron paid no mind to his slip of the tongue, chalking it up to a random mistake. He never could have guessed someone would try to eat a ghost…

  “That’s the raw material for refining Ghost Crystals.”

  he explained. “With the size of this one, you can probably make two crystals out of it.”

  “Ghost Crystals come from ghosts?”

  John blinked, understanding dawning on him.

  “Naturally. Otherwise, we wouldn’t use them as the currency of the supernatural trade.”

  Ron shrugged. “You’re a regular human—you don’t really need them. Interested in selling it?”

  “Nah.”

  John shook his head. He wasn’t short on cash right now, so there was no need to part with the resource.

  “Instructor, if this is currency, can’t I use it to buy other supernatural items?”

  His eyes grew dark and thoughtful.

  “Like… a live ghost?”

  His Ghostly Mask didn’t need Ghost Crystals—but he could trade the crystals for a ghost, couldn’t he?

  “Huh? What the hell would you want a live ghost for?”

  Ron stared at him, stunned. “Capturing a live ghost costs a fortune, and the authorities keep all of them for research. We don’t sell them.”

  “Is that so….”

  Disappointment flickered in John’s eyes, but he tucked the orb away carefully.

  If the authorities wouldn’t sell, there was always the black market, right?

  “Alright. The ghost’s dealt with, so tell everyone to get some rest. We’ll head back to the academy tomorrow.”

  Ron turned to Ethan. “Fill me in on the whole story later.”

  “Instructor, I can tell you!”

  “No thanks. I’d rather not lose my mind listening to you!”

  Ron refused flat out. He’d already had a taste of the boy’s absurdity…

  “What about my reward….”

  John’s face fell. He’d planned to spin a dramatic tale, big himself up, and score a bigger reward—but Ron wasn’t falling for his act.

  Ron said flatly, “I’ll decide on your reward once I hear the full story.”

  “Fine….”

  John didn’t push it. His mind was already racing, wondering what kind of medicine his Ghostly Mask would give him.

  After all, the academy’s reward was just the cherry on top.

  The medicine—that was the light at the end of the tunnel for him…