Chapter Nine: Madness Beyond Redemption

The moment I stepped into the classroom, a suffocating aura of death and despair washed over me. Only Li Zijian, head down on his desk, was sound asleep.

I spent a few moments chatting privately with Chen Chen on my phone, mostly to check on how he was holding up. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared—he was doing fine.

The bell rang on cue. Unexpectedly, our subject teacher had been replaced. Only later did I learn that he was a math teacher from out of town, in his forties, with a truly vile reputation. He’d been transferred here for taking bribes and harassing female teachers, only to keep sinking further into disgrace.

He seemed utterly oblivious to the turmoil in our class, still droning on with his self-introduction. But nobody cared for his tedious chatter; everyone was engrossed in the class WeChat group.

"Hey! What's wrong with all of you? Show some respect! Heads up, now!" he barked.

Everyone glanced at him in unison, then just as quickly returned to their phones.

Furious, he stormed over to Feng Qi'ao, one of the few short students in our class, and yelled, "Hand over your phone! Let me see what’s so important—are you all watching the World Cup?"

Don’t be fooled by Feng Qi'ao’s size; he had a sharp mind—small packages, as they say.

When Feng ignored him, the teacher reached out to snatch his phone.

He might as well have been courting death.

But Feng Qi'ao kept his composure, blocking the teacher’s hand and saying, "Sir, you’d best leave. I can’t let you see my phone..."

Just then, every phone in the class chimed at once—a spectacle in itself.

I was the first to check my phone.

"How did everyone rest? Ready for the next game?" read the message.

"The first game: Whoever kills this teacher will be rewarded with a game exemption."

"It’s over for him," Li Zijian said regretfully, putting away his phone and lying back down to sleep.

The eyes of every student in the room turned predatory, fixed on the teacher like leopards stalking prey.

Feng Qi'ao glanced at his phone, then turned back to the teacher, his expression shifting from pleading to sly in an instant.

"What... what do you all want?" The teacher was clearly terrified, stumbling back a few steps. "Hand over your phones! What’s gotten into you all?"

Some students were already pulling weapons of various sizes from their bags, eyes glazed, fixated on him like the living dead.

I kept my wits about me and shouted at the teacher, "Run!"

I genuinely didn’t want to see innocent people die at the hands of this Ghost King.

As vile as this teacher was, he didn’t deserve to die.

My shout barely left my lips before the students surged toward the teacher like a tidal wave. In the cramped classroom, chaos erupted, with students fighting each other in their frenzy.

The girls cowered in the corners, unable to bear the bloody scene.

Feng Qi'ao moved first, producing a sharp black knife from who-knows-where and, without hesitation, stabbed the teacher in the shoulder.

With a roar, the teacher, incensed and relying on his massive bulk, tried to bulldoze through the crowd.

But not only the teacher—my classmates were hacking wildly, eyes red with bloodlust.

Within moments, the teacher was stabbed to death, his breath gone.

I didn’t move. I just stood at my desk, watching this one-sided slaughter.

It wasn’t until a message arrived from the Ghost King that my classmates snapped back to themselves.

"Excellent enthusiasm, everyone. This game exemption goes to Feng Qi'ao."

"Oh, and Lin Yao—a word to the wise: silence is golden."

"Game resumes at 2:00 p.m. Everyone must return to the classroom."

Just as I was about to clear my head on the playground, the classroom door was kicked open.

"Nobody move! I want to see what’s really behind all this!"

I looked up—it was Officer Qian from the Paranormal Investigation Bureau, the sharp-featured officer from before.

We were all startled by the sudden arrival of the police and reluctantly returned to our seats.

Officer Qian gave instructions to the others, and a group of officers dragged the two-hundred-pound teacher out.

After making arrangements, Officer Qian scanned the classroom, his gaze pausing on me and my friends.

"You—come here," he said, pointing at me.

I followed him into the hallway. At this time, every other class was in session. Only our two classes were shrouded in deathly silence.

"Tell me what you know," Officer Qian said coldly.

"I can’t," I replied.

He shook his head and whispered, "Do you all want to die?"

At that moment, I felt completely overwhelmed, unable to say a word.

"Fine. If you won’t talk, so be it." Officer Qian sounded disappointed and led me back to the classroom.

"Calm down, everyone. We’re here to help..." he declared passionately, but no one paid him the slightest attention. Some students, having lost all reason, even hurled curses at him.

"Why didn’t you come sooner...?"

"So many are dead already, what’s the point of you being here now?"

"Yeah, a bunch of useless freeloaders..."

Officer Qian only smiled faintly at the insults, not taking them to heart.

Time passed quickly, and soon it was 2:00 p.m.

"Everyone’s punctual, I see. As usual, let’s grab a red packet," announced the Ghost King, posting a 500-yuan packet in the group.

Having learned from previous rounds, no one dared defy the Ghost King. The red packet was snatched up in seconds.

"Thank god it’s not me. That scared the hell out of me..." Li Zijian cursed beside me.

"Very good. This game is ‘King of Luck.’ The two with the worst luck will play the game together," the Ghost King said.

I looked and saw that it was Dou Min from our class and Huang Jinbao from Class Two.

Both were infamous troublemakers, notorious for being thick as thieves.

"The two of you must eat chalk in the classroom. Whoever eats more wins. Twenty minutes—starting now."

I glanced at Dou Min; he was furiously typing on his phone.

"Stupid Ghost King, is chalk even edible? Damn it, you bastard..."

The Ghost King ignored him. After a while, realizing he couldn’t change anything, Dou Min started plotting.

His hands were up to something under the desk—definitely nothing good.

As time ticked away, Dou Min showed no sign of eating any chalk.

"Is Dou Min nuts? What’s he doing down there?" Li Zijian tilted his head, watching him.

"One minute left," the Ghost King intoned, like the harbinger of death.

With thirty seconds to go, Dou Min suddenly dashed to the podium, grabbed an unused piece of chalk, hesitated for a moment, then swallowed it.

"Time’s up. Dou Min: one piece. Huang Jinbao: zero. Huang Jinbao is punished—suffocation."

My eyes widened as I watched Dou Min, the truth dawning on me.

Unable to contain my fury any longer, I rushed to the still-laughing Dou Min and punched him square in the jaw.

Taking the blow, Dou Min laughed, "Hahaha! I don’t have to die! Hahaha..."

I was so enraged I could have shattered my own teeth, raining punches on him until Officer Qian pulled me off.

"I may owe him for life, but does that mean I deserve to die?" Dou Min shouted.