Chapter 26: Door God? Yuan God!

“Bro, I’m begging you, don’t drag me into this death trap, okay?”

Xiao Pan’s round face was twisted into a knot.

He had already been lured and coerced—mostly by the threat of a dagger—to the staircase entrance on the second floor.

The other was still climbing upward, but his legs were trembling violently.

“Don’t worry, that guy isn’t in the broadcast room—he’s definitely gone,” Wu Wang reassured him. “My good buddy’s outside handling him; they’ll hold him off.”

Even Liu Yang muttered: “Breaking in now is definitely the right time.”

He was also curious about what was upstairs.

More precisely, he wondered what secrets lay hidden inside the art building that Gaoshan Middle School had concealed.

His past self had never felt such intense curiosity—his mind had been filled only with studying.

Today, he had discovered something beyond studying.

He couldn’t help but want to see for himself.

Wu Wang looked at Xiao Pan’s face, nearly on the verge of tears, and asked: “Are you really that afraid of it? Has it ever hurt you?”

“Not that I know of…”

“Has it ever hurt anyone else inside the art building?”

“No, they can’t even see each other…”

Xiao Pan’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

This made Wu Wang laugh bitterly.

“Fuck, then why the hell are you scared?” he said, exasperated.

But the question made Xiao Pan frown and think for nearly ten seconds before answering uncertainly: “I’m afraid of seeing his face? I don’t know! I just am!”

Swish—

As the two were chatting enthusiastically, a chalkboard eraser covered in white powder flew toward them.

Wu Wang dodged sideways, then took a step left to avoid a lightbulb that had fallen due to neglect.

His stride was slightly exaggerated.

It just happened to clear the puddle of dried paint on the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to ask—Chu, aren’t your reflexes a bit too good? Have you trained?” Liu Yang couldn’t help but complain.

This was the fourteenth time Wu Wang had perfectly avoided something bizarre since they’d started ascending from the first floor.

One or two times might be coincidence.

But so many coincidences in such a short span?

Clearly, something was off.

An invisible hand was manipulating everything.

It seemed that if Wu Wang got stained with color, something would happen.

“I’m an athlete! Don’t underestimate my training! Back in the day, one slide tackle took down a tiger!” Wu Wang declared seriously, uttering nonsense.

The frequency of color stains was increasing—this only proved he was on the right track.

There was definitely something in the broadcast room!

The more he approached, the more anxious the hidden ghost became.

“Alright, Xiao Pan, I’ll ask you a few questions. If you answer them right, I won’t force you upstairs.” Wu Wang’s eyes flickered with cunning.

“?”

The other looked up.

Clearly, he wanted to know what Wu Wang was going to ask.

Wu Wang’s expression turned serious: “What do you think of Chen Nan?”

Xiao Pan clearly hadn’t expected such a sudden shift in topic.

He stammered defensively: “Sister Chen is great! Everyone likes her, and she’s always looked out for me—if I could find a girlfriend like her in this life, I’d wake up laughing in my dreams. No, I mean, you know, just the kind of fondness between classmates…”

“?”

Wu Wang suddenly understood.

He gave a look that said, “I get it.”

He’d only intended to imply that Principal Wang would eventually harm those around Xiao Pan, to spur him into going upstairs and solving this.

He hadn’t expected a direct hit.

This chubby kid was definitely into Chen Nan.

That made things easier.

“I’ll tell you this—the thing on the third floor is the current principal of Gaoshan Middle School. He plans to demolish the art building. Everything you cherish will vanish into dust.” Wu Wang stood up coldly. “Are you going to sit here and wait until the day Chen Nan disappears?”

“!”

At these words, Xiao Pan froze.

The monster was the principal?

If the principal was going to demolish the art building…

Then Chen Nan’s hope—that teachers and students would notice their absence and come to rescue them—

Was just a pathetic fantasy?

“Either you come upstairs with me now and find a way out of this art building, or you let Chen Nan cling to that pathetic fantasy and die peacefully in her delusion.” Wu Wang’s tone was icy.

With that, he turned and walked toward the stairs.

One step… two steps… three steps…

“I’m going!” Xiao Pan gritted his teeth.

Though his legs still trembled.

He still struggled to push himself up, leaning against the wall.

Liu Yang watched from the side, hoping to see Wu Wang’s expression soften with gratitude or approval.

But as expected.

He saw only a smug, scheming grin.

This bastard! The demolition story was definitely made up!

But he didn’t expose Wu Wang’s lie.

If Wu Wang wanted Xiao Pan to come along so badly, he must have his reasons.

They resumed walking side by side, ascending further.

Thump-thump—Hum—

They had barely stepped onto the third floor, hadn’t even begun searching for the broadcast room, hadn’t even seen the hallway clearly—

All three suddenly felt their heartbeats accelerate, a ringing began in their ears, their vision blurred, and strange whispers echoed in their minds.

Xiao Pan and Liu Yang nearly collapsed on the spot.

【Mental Strength: 35—34】

Wu Wang’s mental strength began to drop.

The rate wasn’t fast—it was still within his tolerance.

Perhaps he’d developed some resistance to this kind of sanity-draining pollution; after all, the crimson vertical pupil on his wrist—the entity known as Yuan Shen—was the greatest spiritual corruption he’d ever encountered.

A being so incomprehensible that merely looking at it caused mutation and explosion—even now, recalling it made Wu Wang’s skin itch as if tentacles were sprouting.

Unnameable, unspeakable, unseeable.

“This isn’t right… the third floor wasn’t like this before…” Xiao Pan rubbed his head, his voice trembling.

In his memory, the horror of the third floor had been only the fat principal monster—never this headache-inducing whispering pollution upon ascending.

But the more this happened, the more it proved Wu Wang’s claims were true.

Even if the principal didn’t demolish the art building, allowing this strange phenomenon to continue would eventually cause internal decay, poisoning the students below who knew nothing.

“The broadcast room is at the end of the hallway!”

Liu Yang helped Xiao Pan up; they leaned on each other, inching forward slowly.

Wu Wang led the way, walking ahead.

Mental pollution? Bring it on!

But halfway there, he stopped.

A sly smirk curled on his lips: “Oh? No more hide-and-seek?”

He saw a figure standing before the door at the end, back turned, roaring in fury—its voice eerily familiar.

It was the ghost who had been trying to kill him throughout the floors.

Its body was slightly bloated, clad in a pitch-black garment, its design unrecognizable, torn and ragged, with strips of fabric hanging from it.

Upon hearing the sound, it slowly turned around.

And Wu Wang’s smirk froze.

Two reasons.

First—he saw something familiar on the door blocked by the ghost—

A simple red vertical pupil drawn in crayon.

Fuck! Yuan Shen!

Clearly, the grotesque tentacles appearing in this copy and the whispers heard while ascending originated from this.

And Principal Wang had been inside this broadcast room every night—no doubt his absurdly powerful abilities were fueled by the crimson vertical pupil.

That indescribable entity’s mere presence utterly corrupted this land; no wonder the bloodstained uniform had guided me here.

“Brother Yuan Shen, you still hanging around this broadcast room MC-ing?” Wu Wang muttered, staring at the mark on his wrist.

Second… it’s hard to say.

“Fatty, I’ve got a question I should’ve asked long ago—might be rude to bring it up now,” he turned, uncertain.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Fatty frowned.

His head felt like it would split open—the whispers drilled into his mind even with his ears covered, as if ants were gnawing inside.

“What’s your surname? Or your full name?”

You dragged me into this death trap and still don’t even know my name?

Fatty was displeased inside.

But he answered honestly:

“My surname is Wang. My full name is Wang Zhiyong.”

As he spoke, Fatty froze in place.

Because he had just clearly seen the face of the bloated ghost at the end of the corridor.

It was the principal’s face.

But much younger.

Younger… and identical to his own.