“?”

  At that absurd line, the Faceless Woman froze. That was going too far—even for a ghost…

  But John wasn’t done. He grinned and shot back:

  “Sticking this close? You wanna ship with Boss John?”

  The second the words landed, he caught her off-guard by her stunned confusion. His hand snapped out, locking onto the back of her neck with pinpoint precision.

  “Get off me!”

  The monstrous strength in his body erupted in an instant. He hefted her overhead and slammed her to the ground with a brutal suplex, yanking her off the bike.

  “Bye-bye!”

  John pedaled like a man possessed, his legs a blur of motion, racing straight for the academy. Once he made it to the campus gates, she’d almost certainly dare not follow—dozens of Spirit Wielders were there, and the collective supernatural aura alone would scare her off.

  “She’s definitely no ordinary ghost…”

  John glanced down at his right hand as he rode. Dark, corpse-like spots had already bloomed across his skin.

  Just that one brief touch, and he’d been infected with a curse…

  “Almost there!”

  Just then, his eyes lit up—he spotted a familiar newsstand up ahead.

  It was only a few hundred meters from the school gate. John breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

  “If you’ve got the guts, come at me!”

  He glanced back at the empty road, but the bone-deep cold still clung to him, proof the Faceless Woman hadn’t given up.

  Minutes ticked by.

  “Huh? Why haven’t we reached it yet?”

  John’s legs were pumping so fast they were almost a blur, yet the familiar school gate was still nowhere in sight.

  At this speed, he should’ve been there ages ago.

  “Something’s wrong…”

  His brow furrowed. The streets were completely deserted, as if he’d stepped into an entirely different world.

  And right then, his gaze locked ahead—and froze.

  There, standing in front of him, was that same familiar newsstand again.

  “Did I missee earlier? That was the newsstand from the last block?”

  He scowled and pedaled harder, a bad feeling coiling in his gut.

  His mind was sharp and calm—there was no way he’d make a stupid mistake like that.

  A few more minutes passed. John’s face paled.

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  He was staring at that exact same newsstand, for the third time.

  In that moment, he finally understood—he was trapped.

  “A Ghost Wall?”

  He scowled and slammed the brakes on the shared bike.

  “If you’re begging for death, don’t blame me for what comes next…”

  He unzipped his backpack and assembled the giant syringe, screwing the needle-thick as a baby’s arm-onto the oversize barrel.

  “Let’s see if you’re scared of needles!”

  He slung the colossal syringe over his shoulder like a missile, confidence surging in his chest.

  But as time dragged on, the Faceless Woman never showed.

  The street was empty, save for the icy night wind. Even the streetlamps seemed to dim, casting sickly, flickering light.

  “Scared? Or you’re trying to scare me?”

  John waited in place for ten minutes, but she still didn’t appear.

  “Fine, I’m out of here then…”

  He wasn’t about to waste time waiting her out. He hopped back on the bike,

  the “missile syringe” slung over one shoulder, one hand steering, and picked a random direction to ride.

  He refused to believe a Ghost Wall could trap him forever—even supernatural tricks consumed power.

  He didn’t know how long he’d been riding when—

  the familiar white figure appeared ahead of him once more.

  This time, she didn’t wave. She just stood there, her blank, paper-white face fixed on John, staring straight through him as if piercing his soul.

  “Impatient now?”

  John raised an eyebrow, hopping off the bike. He hefted the syringe and stood his ground, staring her down.

  Truth be told, the Faceless Woman was panicking.

  Any ordinary human trapped in a Ghost Wall would’ve broken down long ago, screaming and scrambling in terror.

  But this guy? He was just casually riding a bike, sightseeing like he was on vacation—not a single shred of fear.

  How was she supposed to haunt someone this calm?!

  Just then,

  the world around John twisted and warped, and he was slammed back into reality.

  “I rode all the way to the Peaceful River?!”

  Shock flashed in his eyes. No wonder he’d been pedaling for so long…

  The Faceless Woman stood rooted to the spot. Seeing he still felt no fear, she turned and fled into the distance.

  Without terror to feed on, she had no desire to kill him.

  But someone wasn’t about to let her leave.

  “Hold on—I already pulled out my needle, and you’re trying to run?!”

  John’s eyes glinted. He slung the syringe over his shoulder and bolted after her in a burst of speed.

  He’d wanted to hold back his trump card, but she’d pushed him again and again, even cursed him. He was ending this for good.

  The Faceless Woman seemed to sense the killing intent. She spun around abruptly.

  “Take my needle!!”

  John launched himself off the ground, leaping into the air. He gripped the giant syringe with both hands, raised it high above his head, and drove it straight down at her!

  In that instant, time itself seemed to stand still.

  Midnight struck.

  The calm surface of the Peaceful River erupted into a violent churn. Countless black, round shadows surfaced beneath the water, writhing in the dark.

  John’s mind went blank, his consciousness muddled. His body crashed back down to the ground.

  Even more horrifying—the Faceless Woman was frozen too, just as dazed as he was.

  Both man and ghost fixed their gazes on the Peaceful River, as if spellbound, shuffling forward step by step.

  Like walking corpses, they climbed over the tall riverside railings with eerie ease, standing right at the water’s edge.

  In that moment, they were just like the dozens who’d jumped before them—about to throw themselves into the Peaceful River.

  But at the very last second,

  a scorching heat burst from John’s chest, and he snapped back to his senses in an instant.

  “Huh?”

  He stared blankly at the river in front of him, utterly confused.

  When the hell did I get here?

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Faceless Woman, her arms spread wide, diving into the river without a second thought.

  “No!”

  John cried out, genuine despair in his voice. “Without you, what’s for my midnight snack?!”

  He’d been ready to inject her—and she just jumped into the river?!

  At that moment, John stared at the water. The Faceless Woman, who’d hit the surface, seemed to wake from her trance too.

  A shrill, venomous, blood-curdling shriek tore from her.

  She thrashed wildly in the current, exactly like someone who’d fallen in by accident, drowning and desperate.

  “This river…”

  John’s face turned grave. He stumbled back several steps.

  Beneath the water, countless black round shapes floated upward, swarming toward the Faceless Woman.

  In that instant, John’s eyes widened—he finally saw what those shadows were.

  They were human heads, bloated and waterlogged, rotting and pale.

  He scanned the river. The entire surface was covered in them, dense and endless, too many to count.

  In that moment, a single sentence flashed through John’s mind:

  Peaceful River is anything but peaceful.