Chen Shi wiped his hands on the tablecloth.
Calmly.
He looked around at the petrified crowd.
Frowning.
"What are you all looking at?"
He knocked on the table.
"Eat."
"Haven't you ever seen a handsome guy courting a beauty?"
"It's just a little foreplay."
"Don't make a fuss."
The corners of the crowd's mouths twitched.
Courting?
Foreplay?
You call licking an S-rank ghost into a coma 'foreplay'?
This guy is a beast.
But because the S-rank anomaly was unconscious.
The oppressive pressure vanished.
So the starving Chosen finally dared to relax.
The sound of spoons hitting plates rang out.
In the corner.
Elena unclenched her thighs.
Her face still burning.
She stared at Chen Shi.
Her eyes complicated.
Amy pulled her sleeve again.
Whispering.
"Sister Elena."
"Your face is so red."
"Do you want Big Brother to clean your shoes too?"
Elena choked.
Covering Amy's mouth frantically.
"Shut up!"
"Eat your food!"
But in her mind.
A shameful image flashed.
Her legs on Chen Shi's shoulders...
She shook her head violently.
Forcing herself to focus on the food.
At the center table.
Chen Shi looked at Annie.
She was slumped in the chair.
Unconscious.
Her face flushed with an afterglow.
Breathing softly.
Like a sleeping princess.
"It's cold here."
Chen Shi stood up.
Taking off his jacket.
Acting the gentleman.
He walked behind her.
Draping the jacket over her shoulders.
But as he leaned in.
His hand "accidentally" slipped.
Sliding under the table.
And under the hem of her habit.
Grabbed her thigh.
Right where the white stocking ended and the bare skin began.
The flesh was incredibly soft.
Like pudding.
He squeezed hard.
Feeling the abundance overflow through his fingers.
"Mmm..."
Even in her coma.
Annie felt the invasion.
Her body twitched.
A tremor ran through her legs.
And a small whimper escaped her lips.
Chen Shi grinned.
He withdrew his hand.
Satisfied.
So sensitive.
Definitely a virgin ghost.
Suddenly.
The light in the cafeteria dimmed.
As if someone blew out a candle.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The white fog turned pitch-black instantly.
Heavy shadows pressed against the glass.
Elena's face changed.
She looked at her watch.
"Ten minutes are up."
She lowered her voice.
Trembling.
"The protection time is over."
"The things outside... are coming."
As soon as her voice fell.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
A clear, crisp knocking sound echoed.
Right on the window glass next to an empty table.
Then.
Scritch... Scritch...
The sound of sharp nails clawing at glass.
Slowly.
Harshly.
Like scratching a blackboard.
Drilling into everyone's eardrums.
The temperature in the cafeteria dropped ten degrees.
The Chosen near the windows stopped eating.
Faces pale.
Trembling.
They remembered the rule:
[Do not look out the window. Do not respond to sounds.]
So they buried their heads.
Shoveling food into their mouths desperately.
Trying to use the chewing sound to mask the horror outside.
But the sounds didn't stop.
Instead.
They became voices.
"Let me in..."
"It's so cold..."
"Why don't you look at me?"
"Open the window..."
The voices were sticky.
Wet.
Like throats filled with sludge.
Whispering right next to their ears.
A young woman sitting by the window froze.
Her spoon stopped in mid-air.
Because she heard a familiar voice.
"Sarah?"
"Sarah, is that you?"
The woman trembled.
Tears welled up.
That was her mother's voice.
Her mother who died three years ago.
"Mom?"
She muttered.
"Sarah, open the window."
The voice outside was loving.
Anxious.
"Mom is cold."
"It's hell out here."
"I found you."
"Let me in, baby."
"Let Mom hug you."
The woman struggled.
Reason told her it was a trap.
But the voice was so real.
So full of warmth in this cold, deadly world.
"Don't look!"
A teammate beside her whispered urgently.
Kicking her shin.
"It's a lure! Don't look!"
But the woman was in a trance.
"But... she's crying."
"Mom is crying."
"I have to check."
Slowly.
Stiffly.
She turned her head.
Toward the pitch-black window.
Her teammate closed his eyes in despair.
Moving away from her.
The woman looked out.
Through the glass.
She saw a face.
It wasn't her mother.
It was a pale, bloated face pressed flat against the window.
Eyes missing.
Only two black holes oozing yellow pus.
The mouth grinned to the ears.
Filled with rows of needle-like teeth.
Seeing her look.
The monster smiled.
Its tongue licked the glass.
Leaving a trail of slime.
"Found... you."
The woman didn't scream.
She didn't run.
She just stared.
Eye to eye with the monster.
One second.
Two seconds.
Then.
Her expression changed.
The terror vanished.
Replaced by a dead calm.
She turned back slowly.
Picking up her spoon.
"It was nothing."
She said.
Her voice monotone.
"Just the wind."
She scooped a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
But she didn't aim for her mouth.
She shoved it into her nostril.
Pushing hard.
Forcing the food in.
But she kept eating.
Rhythmically.
Calmly.
As if this was the correct way to eat.
Beside her.
Her teammate watched in horror.
Trembling.
Because he saw something else.
On the back of the woman's neck.
Under the skin.
Something was wriggling.
A lump the size of a fist.
Moving from her neck to her brain.
The Dragon Country stream exploded.
[Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!]
[What was that?!]
[She shoved food up her nose?!]
[Is she possessed?]
[Look at her neck! Something is moving under her skin!]
[It's in her brain! It crawled into her brain!]
[Run! The guy next to her, run!]
The foreign stream was equally horrified.
[Omg! Sarah is gone!]
[That monster... it didn't attack. It just looked at her!]
[Mental pollution! It's high-level mental pollution!]
[Don't look! Don't listen!]
[Cover your ears! Close your eyes!]
In the cafeteria corner.
Elena froze.
Her spoon hovering mid-air.
Out of the corner of her eye.
She saw Sarah's bizarre eating method.
And the lump wriggling under her skin.
Thump.
Her heart sank.
Pollution?
Or parasitic control?
Just one look...
And it's over?
Panic spread like a virus.
More people began to react.
Those near windows with curtains.
Frantically reached out.
Trying to pull the heavy fabric shut.
"Close it! Close it now!"
Someone shouted.
His voice trembling.
But as his hand touched the curtain.
Scritch... Scritch...
The sound of nails on glass intensified.
Right next to his ear.
"Don't close it..."
"It's dark in here..."
"Let me watch you eat..."
"Just one look..."
The voice was sticky.
Like rotting honey.
Drilling into his brain.
His hand froze.
Fingers stiff.
He couldn't pull the curtain.
Instead.
His hand began to tremble violently.
Fighting against his own will.
Moving slowly toward the window latch.
Trying to open it!
"No! No!"
He screamed.