Chapter 243: "Teacher, My Arm Fell Off—Could You Pick It Up for Me?"
...
Chairwoman Manimi's mouth twitched. As someone who had manifested her supernatural ability, her senses were heightened compared to the others around her. She had picked up the scent the moment they stepped into the teaching building.
Meanwhile, on the third floor:
Seito and Iori Kitahara were observing the group from the shadows.
"Seito, isn't that the Mayor of Chiba City? Shouldn't we stop him from coming up?" Iori whispered, worried. If they accidentally scared the Mayor into a hospital bed, the repercussions would be catastrophic.
"I'll use Spatial Shift to teleport him out once they get closer. He'll be fine," Seito replied, deciding that scaring the city's highest official was indeed a step too far.
"Got it! Proceed with the plan!" Iori nodded, and the two vanished to set the stage.
Back in the second-floor hallway:
"It's likely just animal blood. They probably wanted to make the set look more realistic," Chairwoman Manimi's offered with a forced, stiff smile.
"That makes sense," Mayor Kiru mused. He didn't see anything inherently wrong with that, so he continued walking toward the stairs to the third floor.
The group arrived on the third floor, but the moment they stepped into the hallway, they felt an immediate, primal dread. The entire corridor was drenched in scarlet gore!
Not only that—the walls of the Sobu High third floor were covered in deep, savage claw marks! What was worse, the blood was pooled within those gouges, and unlike the fresh splashes on the floor, this blood had dried, caked onto the walls. The hallway lights flickered with a dim, sickly yellow hue, creating an atmosphere that was overwhelmingly eerie.
Damp walls... flickering, dying lights...
Mayor Kiru and the rest of the officials stood paralyzed, stunned into silence. Is... is this really just a school haunted house setup?
Mayor Kiru crouched down, dipping his finger into a patch of the viscous fluid. After a moment, he straightened his back, his expression turning grave. "Chairwoman Minami, are you sure... this is animal blood?"
"Er..." Chairwoman Manimi's was completely baffled. What do you mean? It's not animal blood?
Mayor Kiru was a veteran of the battlefield. He knew the distinct, metallic, and pungent signature of human blood better than anyone. One sniff was all it took to confirm his suspicions: this was absolutely, unequivocally not animal blood.
RINGG!
The school bell rang out, but it wasn't the usual crisp, cheery tone. It was muffled, discordant, and sounded hauntingly wrong.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
Suddenly, footsteps thundered down from the fourth floor. A group of students with vacant, expressionless faces marched down the stairs and filed into their classrooms. The scene was so profoundly unsettling that it left the officials breathless.
"Wait... where did Mayor Kiru go?" an official asked, confused.
"And the Chairwoman? She's gone too!" the Third-Year Director added, equally panicked. In the blink of an eye, two of their group had simply vanished.
On the fourth floor:
Seito stood before Mayor Kiru and Chairwoman Manimi's. He had pulled them out of the crowd while the hallway was chaotic. Seito didn't waste time—he handed his identification documents to the Mayor.
Mayor Kiru took them, his eyes widening.
"You're General Mu of the Supernatural Legion?" He knew well enough about the secret organization established by the government.
"Yes, Mayor Kiru," Seito nodded. "The blood you smelled earlier was from monsters."
"I see," the Mayor breathed a sigh of relief. The monsters were humanoid, so their blood possessing human-like scents made perfect sense.
"Mayor, Chairwoman, I'm planning to use my supernatural powers to put on a real show for the students. It wouldn't be appropriate for you to be down on the third floor while I do, so perhaps you should wait here," Seito said.
Mayor Kiru: "..."
Supernatural powers to scare people? And he's worried about US being there? He twitched, suppressing the urge to scream. He just teleported us to the fourth floor out of nowhere, and now he wants to use reality-warping powers for a 'haunted house'? Are you sure this won't end in a national disaster?
Chairwoman Manimi's shot Seito a look that clearly meant, Keep it under control. Seito flashed a "don't worry" look back, while inwardly, he was already brainstorming how to absolutely traumatize everyone downstairs.
Whoosh. Seito vanished.
Back on the third floor:
The group of five officials huddled together. Despite their numbers, seeing the students sitting in the classrooms, dead-eyed and motionless, staring at the blackboard, made them feel inexplicably vulnerable.
TAP. TAP. TAP.
A student wearing a clown mask—Iori Kitahara—emerged from the gloom. The officials' eyes darted to him.
"Welcome to 'Ghost Martial High.' Let's begin with the teacher assignments," Iori said, scanning them coldly. "From left to right, you are the head teachers for Classes A, B, C, D, and E. Please, enter your classrooms and begin the lesson."
CLANG!
A heavy, metallic sound echoed in the hallway. The officials whipped around, only to see that the stairways to the fourth and second floors had been sealed off by heavy iron gates. A chill of genuine terror spiked in their hearts. We didn't see those gates when we came up here, did we?
Iori didn't give them time to think; he turned and walked away.
"What do we do?" the female official asked, trembling.
"Nothing to worry about," the male official said with a dismissive wave, though his voice wavered. "It's just a student-run haunted house."
"Don't panic," the First-Year Director added, trying to sound confident. "I know these students well. It's harmless. We'll just do as the student said and go teach the classes."
The others nodded, clinging to that thin shred of logic, and split off toward their respective classrooms.
In Class 1-D, the First-Year Director stepped inside. Every single student in the class turned their heads in perfect unison to stare at him. The director didn't flinch—their skin was deathly pale and covered in gore, but he knew these kids. He decided to play along and started his "lesson."
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the room:
"Teacher, my arm fell off—could you pick it up for me?"
...
Thank you for reading.