Ms. Wilson was left speechless on the spot. This was not what she’d meant by wanting to improve.

  But it was an order from the higher-ups—she had no right to stop him. She just sighed and said, “Fine. Just… be careful out there.”

  John nodded, grabbed the flier, and strode out of the classroom without a second’s hesitation.

  The rest of the class stared after him, a mix of emotions on their faces—envy, indifference, even pity.

  That single step meant his life would never be the same as a regular person’s again.

  John reached the Spirit Class office on the first floor in no time.

  “Whoa, this many people?”

  He blinked in surprise. A line of more than a dozen people snaked out of the office door. It seemed plenty of folks had both nerve and foresight.

  With the paranormal plaguing the world, any experience they gained now would be a lifesaver later. Sure, the Intelligence Division was dangerous, but every mission was led by professionals—its safety was already maximized. If they didn’t seize this chance now, they’d end up facing vengeful spirits alone one day… and that would be a death sentence.

  It wasn’t long before John’s turn came.

  “Well, look who it is. Knew you’d show up.”

  Ron looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow, his impression of John still sharp and clear.

  “Instructor Ron.”

  John smiled and nodded—a small greeting. After all, Ron was the one calling the shots at the school now.

  “The Intelligence Division’s a perfect fit for you.” Ron nodded, already well aware of John’s extraordinary mental fortitude.

  “Just fill out this form and I’m in?” John glanced at the sheet in his hand, just a basic personal information form.

  “Not quite.” Ron shook his head. “That’s just the application. To get into the Division, you’ve got to pass an assessment.”

  “An assessment? When?” John asked, pen already moving across the paper to fill it out.

  “Saturday. We’ll send a notice with the exact location beforehand.”

  “Got it.”

  John finished the form in minutes, handed it over, and turned to leave.

  “Aren’t you even gonna ask about the Division’s actual work?” Ron called after him.

  “No need.”

  John tossed a smile over his shoulder, then strode out of the office.

  “Kid might just make something of himself.” Ron shook his head, a faint glint of interest in his eyes for the first time.

  Saturday rolled around before anyone knew it.

  John was in the middle of class when a messenger found him, telling him to report to the front of the teaching building immediately. He stood up and walked out, all his classmates’ eyes on his back.

  Down by the building, a crowd of roughly two or three hundred people had gathered—an impressive sight.

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  The Intelligence Division was open to anyone aged 15 to 30, meaning the group included not just students, but plenty of civilians from the city too. And this was only the first round of applicants; there would be several more after this.

  Besides, this was just the Division for Ping’an City No.5 High School. Every other middle and high school in the city was launching their own too. With the city’s population, even a tenth of a percent of people signing up added up to a huge number.

  “Alright, quiet down.”

  Ron stepped to the front of the crowd, and his sharp, commanding aura silenced everyone in an instant.

  “Your assessment is simple, really. All you have to do is watch a movie.”

  A collective sigh of relief went up from the crowd. Grins spread across faces; most thought they’d already passed.

  Ron just smiled, saying nothing to explain further.

  Moments later, the nearly 300 applicants piled onto charter buses and left No.5 High School, heading for Ocean Cinema in the heart of Ping’an City.

  “A horror movie, I bet.”

  John sat on the bus, his eyes thoughtful. If the assessment was about nerve, it had to be a horror flick—they weren’t about to screen a cartoon.

  But he knew it couldn’t be that easy. A single horror movie wouldn’t scare anyone off, not enough to be a real test.

  The buses pulled up to Ocean Cinema soon after, and everyone filed out.

  The usually bustling cinema was completely deserted—cleared out well in advance for the assessment. Ron stood at the entrance, staring out at the crowd.

  “Each of you will wear a heart rate monitor watch. Any signs of extreme fear, and it’ll log it. Three logs, and you’re out.”

  Muttered complaints broke out across the group. Do we really need all this fancy gear?

  So it wasn’t going to be simple.

  Fear was impossible to hide. You could fake a calm face, but your body’s reactions never lied.

  And to everyone’s shock, they were each handed a pair of 3D glasses too.

  “Are you kidding me? A 3D horror movie? No one said anything about this!”

  “First time for everything… kinda curious.”

  “Hope it’s actually scary!”

  Murmurs of surprise and excitement rippled through the crowd as everyone took the glasses and filed into the cinema’s largest theater—one that fit their numbers perfectly.

  Some chatted, guessing what the movie would be about; others took deep breaths, steeling themselves. They’d signed up because they thought their courage was far above average.

  Then, a chilling, eerie background score blared through the speakers.

  The movie started.

  The pitch-black screen flashed to life in an instant, revealing a pale woman’s face, her eyes fixed on every single person in the room. Thanks to the 3D glasses, it felt like she was inches away—her look of bitter malice slamming into everyone’s nerves.

  In the blink of an eye, shrill beeps rang out from dozens of the heart rate watches. Three beeps, and you were eliminated.

  “Are you serious?! That jump scare came out of nowhere! Who can handle that?!” someone cursed under their breath.

  Anyone’s heart would race at a trick like that.

  But in the back row, John sat perfectly calm, watching the movie with mild interest.

  He was completely immune to jump scares, horror, gore—anything that made others flinch.

  That was the confidence his condition had given him.

  The movie’s plot was simple, a classic horror trope: a woman from a remote mountain village, dismembered by strangers, returns from the dead consumed by rage to take her revenge. But the scary scenes were masterfully timed, and paired with the bone-chilling score, they easily stirred up the fear in anyone who watched.

  “Kinda boring.”

  John yawned lazily, fighting off sleep. The movie everyone else cowered from felt like a children’s cartoon to him.

  Then—his eyes flickered.

  He glanced sideways, his attention suddenly piqued.

  A warm tingle spread across his chest.

  Which meant there was a spirit in the cinema.

  A cold, icy chill washed over him a split second later, and he identified it immediately.

  It was the same pathetic little wraith he’d encountered that day before.

  “They even throw in free snacks with the movie—such a nice touch.”

  John licked his lips, no thought of leaving crossing his mind. If anything, he was itching for a fight.

  If you’re weaker than me, you’re in for a world of hurt.

  Outside the theater, Ron leaned against the wall, looking relaxed as he waited for the assessment to end.

  “Instructor Ron, aren’t we being a little too harsh? They’re just regular people, after all.”

  A man stepped up beside him, his eyes darting to the theater door with a hint of worry. No one could’ve guessed a courage test would involve letting an honest-to-goodness spirit loose inside.

  “Relax.” Ron shook his head. “It’s just a low-level wraith. Barely even a vengeful spirit. It can’t hurt anyone.”

  “I’m just afraid we’ll scar them for life.”

  “If they’re that cowardly, they have no business joining the Intelligence Division!” Ron waved off his concern. “Quit worrying. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take full responsibility and report it.”

  The mass exodus from the Spirit Classes had made Ron far stricter about testing mental fortitude. What’s the point of training someone with a Bound Spirit who doesn’t even have the guts to face the paranormal head-on? It’s just a waste of resources.

  Ron had no idea, though.

  There was someone in that theater who wasn’t just unafraid of the wraith.

  He saw it as prey… or rather, a snack.