Chapter 115: Eighth: Ghost Nun

The roaring rotors tore through the night, a military helicopter hovering over the sea of city lights like a cold, steel hawk.

Inside the cabin, Nie Yang handed an encrypted tablet to Liu Can.

"Target: Luo Feng."

Nie Yang's voice was low, just enough to rise above the engine noise.

"The beloved son of Federation Senator Luo Jianhua, a junior college student."

"Accused of prolonged academic bullying that drove a female classmate to jump to her death."

"Afterward, the Luo family leveraged vast connections and money to suppress everything, leaving the waters calm."

Nie Yang paused, tapped the tablet lightly, and a young, arrogant face popped up on the screen.

"Half a day ago, he happened to come across the source video of 'Midnight Nightmare'."

"At that time, we hadn't yet managed an Information Blockade across the whole network."

Nie Yang lifted his wrist and glanced at his watch.

"Now... it's almost Luo Feng's usual bedtime."

Liu Can took the tablet, and his gaze lingered for several seconds on Luo Feng's hostile-looking face.

Half an hour later, the helicopter landed on the field of Haibin Daxue.

Under the trembling, fearful guidance of the principal and his entourage, Nie Yang, L, and Liu Can walked through the silent campus.

The summer night breeze carried a hint of humidity, rustling the camphor leaves by the road.

When passing the girls' dormitory, Liu Can's steps suddenly slowed by half a beat.

His eyes were drawn to rows of multicolored intimate garments hanging on the drying line.

He lingered only briefly, so briefly that almost no one noticed.

All of L's attention was on the micro terminal on her wrist, lines of data streaming rapidly before her eyes.

Nie Yang kept his gentle smile, as if indifferent to everything around him.

Soon, the three arrived at the boys' dormitory.

"Principal, you should go back first," Nie Yang said gently to the sweating principal beside him, "The next steps aren't suitable for you to be involved in."

The principal, as if granted a pardon, nodded repeatedly and turned to leave with the others.

Meanwhile, on the third floor of the boys' dormitory.

Luo Feng's dormitory.

In the double room, the other bed was empty, the bedding neatly stacked.

Luo Feng's roommate had already been summoned early for a "private talk".

The whole dorm contained only the figure lying on the bed and his heavy, suppressed breathing.

Luo Feng had already fallen asleep.

According to his pitiful roommate, the young master was extremely disciplined, turning off the lights precisely at 10:30 p. m. each night, allowing no light or sound to disturb his sleep.

At this moment, his eyes were tightly shut, his brows knotted, his body under the quilt twitching intermittently as if enduring something terrifying.

Cold, damp air, mixed with the smell of rotting wood and dust, pierced Luo Feng's nostrils.

He snapped his eyes open, realizing he was not on the comfortable, soft dormitory bed.

He was sitting on a cold wooden chair, inside a dim, dilapidated room.

The wall plaster peeled away in large sheets, revealing dark red bricks beneath, while thick cobwebs hung in the ceiling corners.

The only furniture in the room was the chair beneath him and an oil painting hanging on the opposite wall.

The painting depicted a woman in black nun's habit.

She stood before a barren cemetery, head bowed, her pale face hidden in shadow, indistinct.

The whole scene exuded an indescribable oppression and weirdness.

"What... what is this ghost place?"

Luo Feng shivered, his mind a mess.

He remembered clearly sleeping in his dorm; how did he end up here?

Recently, seeking thrills, he had just finished a highly praised horror film whose protagonist was the ghost nun in the painting.

Could it be that day thoughts become night dreams?

He gave a self‑deprecating laugh, tried to stand, but found his body nailed to the chair, unable to move.

The sensation was so real it didn't feel like a dream.

A chill surged up Luo Feng's spine straight to his Heavenly Spirit Cover!

At that moment.

In the oil painting on the wall, the ghost nun who had been bowing...

Her gaze shifted!

Those eyes hidden in shadow, straight and hooked, stared through the canvas, fixed on Luo Feng!

"Ah—!"

Luo Feng was terrified, letting out a short, sharp scream!

He strained with all his might, and the chair finally toppled with a "clang" onto the floor.

Freed, Luo Feng scrambled and crawled toward the door, daring not even glance back at the painting.

He twisted the door handle and rushed out.

Outside lay an endless corridor of typical Western manor style, dust‑covered portraits lining both sides, each figure—young or old, male or female—staring with a weird, half‑smile expression.

"Thud... thud... thud..."

Heavy, slow footsteps echoed from the room he had just fled.

Something's coming out!

Luo Feng's fear peaked; he couldn't care about anything else and bolted, sprinting wildly down the Corridor!

He didn't dare look back; he could feel that thing right behind him, following at an unhurried pace.

The footsteps, like a funeral bell tolling in hell, hammered his heart with each strike!

He ran around a corner, then another dead‑end corner!

The old mansion was like a maze with no Exit!

In a panic, he flung open a door beside him, rushed inside, and then slammed the door shut, locking it from the inside!

Huff... huff...

He leaned his back against the door, gasping heavily, his heart pounding so fast it seemed ready to burst out of his throat.

It was a storage room, piled with furniture covered in white cloth.

Temporarily safe... I guess?

Knock knock knock.

The clear knocking sounded from the door behind him.

Luo Feng startled and leapt back sharply!

Knock knock knock.

The knocking continued, unhurried, with a graceful, teasing quality as if toying with prey.

Luo Feng retreated in terror, but knocked over a floor rack behind him.

Clang!

The white cloth draped over the rack slipped down.

On the rack, what hung was not clothing.

It was a black habit stained with dark red blood...

Luo Feng's pupils instantly shrank to the size of a needle tip.

He jerked his head up, looking toward a corner of the ceiling.

In the darkness, a death‑pale, wrinkled face hung upside down, smiling at him in a bizarre way.

At the same time.

In reality.

In the dormitory.

Luo Feng's body trembled violently, his throat emitting a hoarse, animal‑like whimper, his whole body drenched in cold sweat.

"Heart rate 180, blood pressure soaring, adrenaline levels severely over the limit!"

"Brainwaves abnormally active; he is undergoing extreme fear!"

L stared at the data displayed on the wrist terminal, and with her usual steady voice, reported calmly.

Nie Yang stood at the bedside, expression calm, yet a sharp glint flickered in his gentle eyes.

Medical staff were already in position, various emergency devices on standby.

"We can begin," Nie Yang nodded to Liu Can.

Liu Can walked gracefully to the bedside; he didn't approach the convulsing Luo Feng, but instead reached into his suit pocket and produced an antiquely styled silver pocket watch.

He opened the watch cover, his slender fingers gently moving the hands.

"Tick, tick..."

A crisp, rhythmic sound rang out in the quiet dormitory.

ps:

Heartfelt thanks for everyone's gifts, support, and positive reviews!

I have a business trip again at nine this morning; I won't know when I'll return to the hotel—maybe ten, maybe eleven...

Everyone, please use your lucky fingers to give a five‑star rating and keep lending me your strength!

I'm not asking for a nine; at least give this kid a seven or eight...

Or bring a few more to power love, that's fine too~

Your support and recognition are the motivation for my writing (the boss doesn't even have the right to make me work overtime this late).