Chapter 51: Room 404
From the sneaky laughter of the spy to the unfinished pleas for mercy, ending with painful howls, all of this happened in less than two seconds. Zhao Mingyue took a step back and finally realized what was happening.
That little ghost was trying to lure her in to k*ll her.
Whether reaching for a lollipop or leaning closer to check the numbers, the end result would always be d*ath.
“Thanks, Sister Yu. Was that little ghost the student who was burned to d*ath in that class?” Zhao Mingyue whispered.
People turn into ghosts only after they d*e, and it seems only the Old Principal and the poor students from the Orphan Class have actually died in this school.
Because of that, she hadn’t been very wary; instinctively, she thought that even if the Old Principal and the kids from the class had become ghosts, they should still be kind-hearted. The only one to watch out for would be the evil ghost that caused their deaths.
Clearly, she was way too naive. She didn’t know whether these kids had become so detestable after turning into ghosts or if they were just like that to begin with—deadly even in d*ath.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I will be careful.”
Zhao Mingyue didn’t want to linger here any longer; she planned to check out the upper floors.
Since there were ghosts here, it was safe to assume that the upper floors would be even worse.
Room 404, where the fire broke out, was definitely a disaster zone. But there was no helping it—the task was here, and if she wanted to complete it with a high level of success and reap the benefits, she had to go.
Furthermore, she had finally figured out what was strange about this school.
As soon as she came in, she felt uncomfortable but couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. Now that she thought about it, it was the lack of sound. It was just too quiet here—there wasn’t even a hint of noise.
You must understand, it was a summer night, basically in the countryside, so how could there possibly be no sound of bugs chirping at all?
Outside the school, the weeds were thick, and everywhere she went, there were the sounds of buzzing insects and swarms of mosquitoes.
Yet now, just a wall’s distance away, there wasn’t a peep.
It couldn’t even be called peaceful—it was dead silence.
In such an atmosphere, the dead silence and darkness made one uneasy because any tiny movement would be amplified infinitely, to the point that she didn’t even realize she was fidgeting a bit, trying to keep her voice low.
Including the little ghost that spoke earlier, it also tried to keep its voice down, fearing that “something” might hear.
She recalled the task briefing saying not to make any noise, or they’d attract “her.”
It was one thing to be unaware, but once Zhao Mingyue realized this, she felt even more panicked. She adjusted her breathing and tiptoed to the stairway, shining her flashlight up a bit.
Once she reached the staircase, she felt that something was watching her.
The steps were coated in dust, and Zhao Mingyue, wearing a mask for dust protection, carefully stepped onto the stairs, taking tiny steps with extreme caution.
This building—no, this school was hiding dozens of naughty little ghosts with nasty personalities. They were hiding in different places, lurking in the shadows without making a sound, and when you got close to them, they would find all sorts of ways to lead you to your doom.
She was heading to the fourth floor, trying not to make any sound while being cautious of the little ghosts hiding in the dark.
One wrong move, and they might just push her down the stairs.
In the teaching building, she could still see traces of students, like graffiti on the walls and worn smooth stair railings.
“Bai Yu, do you think if we keep making noise, we’ll attract the Big Boss here? Can you deal with her?”
“Oh, right! We still have to find Xiao Lian’s child—it’ll resolve her grievances.”
“This task feels way harder than the Sunny Apartment! I thought the Sunny Apartment was challenging enough, but it turns out that was just the soft serve of difficulty!”
Zhao Mingyue chattered away in her head with Bai Yu—one couldn’t blame her. In this environment, she felt if she didn’t talk to someone soon, she might suffocate from the silence.
With the weight of pressure on her and fear of the unknown, she had to keep her actions and sounds to a minimum.
What was on the second and third floors of the dormitory? She had no clue—darkness could be hiding anything.
Zhao Mingyue was also aware of the capable presence lurking in her shadow, but fear couldn’t just be brushed off that easily—unless she could be as fearless as Bai Sisi.
While she might not reach that level, there were shortcuts to take.
Upon reaching the second floor, Zhao Mingyue pulled out the rabbit plush toy from her pocket.
She needed the courage it provided.
Sure enough, holding the rabbit plush eased her fears, and with a rush of determination, she made it to the fourth floor.
The fourth floor was different from the first. On the first floor, Zhao Mingyue hadn’t felt the eerie drafts, but on the fourth floor, it was another story. The cold wind occasionally stirred, and a pungent mix of burnt and rotten smells filled her nostrils. All four dormitory doors on the fourth floor were wide open, and that awful mix of smells wafted out from inside.
Room 404 was easy to find—right by the outer wall.
Also worth noting, the walls of Room 404 were black, completely different from the other dorms.
Now, with the rabbit plush providing her comfort, Zhao Mingyue felt less scared. She calmly ignored the situation in Room 403 and stood in front of Room 404’s door.
The pitch-black wooden door of Room 404 was open, without a window on the corridor side. Zhao Mingyue had thought the windows would be on the opposite wall, but upon reaching the door, she realized this dorm didn’t have any windows at all, or rather, both windows had been sealed shut on purpose.
Room 404 was very clean, featuring fifteen bunk beds, enough to sleep thirty people, but the walls were charred black, and the beds were the same, even the bed slats were burnt through.
From the signs in the room, the fire that occurred back then must have been fierce. No wonder so many students tragically perished inside.
As soon as Zhao Mingyue entered the room, she instinctively covered her nose. The smell hadn’t been so strong in the corridor, but inside, it was a different story. The mix of burnt and rotting odors was even more ridiculous than on the fifth floor of the Sunny Apartment.
It felt as if the room had just experienced a fire, and the corpses had been left there for over a month without anyone coming to clean up.
The ceiling fan lazily swayed, its movement unclear if it was the wind or something in the room welcoming Zhao Mingyue’s arrival.
From Zhao Mingyue’s perspective, the room was empty except for the burnt beds, but from Bai Yu’s perspective, the entire room was bathed in bl**d. Children, burned beyond recognition, aged twelve or thirteen, stood or sat in the room, their wicked eyes fixated on Zhao Mingyue’s body.
These kids were far more terrifying than the ghosts in the Sunny Apartment, with at least twenty ghosts in this one room.
Interestingly, these ghosts hadn’t even been here; they’d come rushing back after spotting Zhao Mingyue.
