"???"

  The crowd went stiff, their expressions becoming incredibly strained.

  This kid is absolutely shameless...

  The supernatural entities treat you like a civilian, yet you’re demanding the "highest-tier benefits" reserved for elite agents? You really want to have your cake and eat it too, don’t you?

  "Alright, I’m off."

  Yan Qing, the Corpse-Hauler, shook his head with a faint smile. He moved decisively, clearly wanting to avoid another round of recruitment speeches from Wei Feng.

  With a light leap, he vaulted from the boat to the shore. Just as he landed, Lu Ming’s eyes flickered with suspicion.

  "Brother Yan! Why the rush? Did you manage to snag the 'good stuff' from inside that female corpse?"

  "My luck wasn't that good. Didn't get a thing," Yan Qing said with a casual wave of his hand, before merging into the crowd and vanishing.

  "He didn't get it?" Lu Ming muttered under his breath. He turned his gaze toward Han Yu.

  Han Yu shrugged, her voice flat. "Don't look at me. I came up empty."

  "Well, I don't have it either." Lu Ming’s brow furrowed. He slowly turned his head toward John, a dangerous glint beginning to swirl in the depths of his eyes.

  "What are you looking at me for?!"

  John spread his hands wide. He truly hadn't picked up any physical "loot." Seeing the predatory look in their eyes, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

  "Look, whoever took that thing is a total idiot!"

  "???"

  Lu Ming and Han Yu both flinched as if they'd been slapped.

  Jesus, kid, do you have to be that toxic?

  However, the sheer venom in his tone successfully killed their suspicion. No one who had actually secured a priceless treasure would curse themselves that hard.

  On the boat, Wei Feng struggled to suppress a smirk, a hint of admiration for John growing in his chest. Being called an idiot wasn't a big deal, but if John had actually been carrying a treasure, things would have turned lethal. The supernatural world was never as peaceful as it appeared on the surface.

  Sensing the tension, Wei Feng quickly changed the subject. "You’ve all worked hard today. The Ministry will be hosting a banquet in Blackwater City to celebrate—"

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  "No need, Director Wei," Han Yu interrupted, shaking her head. "The mission is over. I'm leaving."

  Lu Ming agreed. "Family business calls. I need to head back as well."

  Without another word, the two elites leaped to the shore and disappeared into the night.

  Wei Feng didn't press them. He looked out at the Ping’an River and let out a long, heavy sigh of relief. At the very least, the "Ghost River Incident"—a crisis that had put the whole country on edge—was finally resolved.

  "Thank you for today," Wei Feng said, turning to John. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

  "No, no... it’s fine..."

  John waved him off, though he looked like he was suppressing a groan of agony. "It's just... a minor scratch."

  The moment the words left his lips, his knees buckled, and he nearly face-planted onto the deck. If I can't get the 'top-tier benefits,' I’m at least going to squeeze out a massive reward bonus...

  "Are you actually injured?" Wei Feng’s brow knitted with concern. Didn't this kid just spend three hours bare-knuckle boxing a ghost?

  He scanned John’s body but couldn't see a single bruise.

  "It’s fine... just internal injuries," John squeezed out a weak smile. "What’s a little soul-shattering trauma compared to saving the city?"

  "There aren't many young men like you left in this world!" Wei Feng sighed, genuinely moved. "Rest assured, the Ministry will see to it that your reward is... substantial."

  "Oh, you shouldn't have... really... I don't care about such worldly possessions..."

  Inside, John was doing a victory dance. On the outside, he continued to wave his hands in "modest" refusal. But Wei Feng had already made up his mind.

  Soon, they were back on land.

  "You’ve all done well today," Wei Feng addressed the gathered Ghost-Users. He felt a sense of pride; if these youngsters could be properly trained, they would become the vanguard against the darkness.

  "The Ping’an Grand Hotel is open to all of you for food and rest..."

  After giving a few quick instructions to the local Blackwater officials, Wei Feng departed. As the Provincial Director, his schedule was a nightmare, and he couldn't afford to linger.

  The crowd began to disperse. Some headed for the hotel, while others went back to their schools or homes to celebrate. For Blackwater City, this was a day of salvation.

  "Kid, you really hogged the spotlight today, didn't you?"

  Ron walked up to John’s side. "What did Director Wei say to you?"

  "Oh, you know. Called me a 'young man of extraordinary talent,' said I’d be the backbone of society one day."

  John paused, warming up to his story. "He also said all school resources are now free for my personal use, and that the teachers should all follow my lead. Oh, and you’re supposed to call me 'Boss' from now on..."

  "Zip it!"

  Ron’s eye twitched. "You’re literally making this up as you go, aren't you?"

  "It’s the truth. Don't believe me? Fine. I’m going home."

  John shrugged and started his trek back, feeling like a million bucks. To him, the official reward was secondary. The real prize was the Ghost Head he’d just devoured.

  The threat level of that Ghost Bride was rare even on a national scale. A head like that? The medicinal payoff was going to be legendary.

  I wonder what kind of 'pill' I’ll get this time? John thought, glancing at his chest with hungry anticipation.

  A week passed in the blink of an eye.

  John’s life returned to a peaceful, studious routine. It wasn't just him, though—the entire city of Blackwater felt safer.

  While minor supernatural blips still occurred, major incidents had dropped to nearly zero. People speculated that with a "High-Calamity" entity like the Ghost River being eradicated, lesser ghosts were either fleeing the territory or diving deep into hiding.

  As a result, the city's population actually began to grow as refugees moved in from more dangerous areas. Even property prices saw a slight bump. Blackwater was finally living up to the "Ping’an" (Peaceful) name.

  In Ghost-User Class Two:

  "Boss John... I finished my essay..."

  Yang Quan and his three lackeys stood by John’s desk, looking like nervous elementary students waiting for a teacher to grade their homework.

  "Let me see... not bad, not bad at all," John whistled, clearly in a great mood. "Alright, go up to the front and read it to the class!"

  "Wait, what?"

  Yang Quan’s face crumbled. Writing the damn thing was torture enough—now they had to perform it?

  "Just two paragraphs. And remember: put some soul into it. I want to feel the emotion!"

  "..."

  The four of them shared a look of pure misery but headed to the front anyway. Just then, Ron appeared at the classroom door.

  "John. Out. My office."

  The "Fantastic Four" instantly relaxed, their faces lit with the joy of a death-row pardon.

  "Something up?" John blinked, standing up and following Ron out.

  "In my office," Ron grunted, turning down the hallway. "Are you bullying people again?"

  Given John’s current strength, he was a walking "nuke" compared to the other students. It was less of a rivalry and more of a localized disaster.

  "What do you mean 'again'? When have I ever bullied anyone?" John pouted. "I’m 'reforming' them with the power of love!"

  "Give me a break," Ron snorted. "Don't overdo it. Keep it within limits, okay?"

  "In a few months, they’ll start becoming One-Curse Ghost-Users. You might find it harder to keep them under your thumb by then."

  "Eh, not a problem," John said dismissively. "I’ll just pop a few more 'pills' by then..."

  "?"