In an instant, every single one of them jolted upright. Their earlier apathy vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by a sharp, desperate hunger for answers.

  This was a matter of life and death—for all of them.

  “Good.”

  Harold’s eyes flickered with a hint of approval as he took in their faces.

  “Let’s start with the recent killings. As you’ve all suspected, the culprits are indeed wraiths.”

  Eyes widened. Fear flashed across every face.

  Forget the incidents themselves—the word wraith alone was enough to send a cold dread snaking down their spines.

  “It’s really wraiths!”

  William sat bolt upright, leaning in to John. “C’mon, let’s go to my hometown. My family’s got a massive ancestral graveyard—my forefathers’ll have your back, trust me.”

  “???”

  John whipped his head around, his mouth twitching.

  Why the hell was he so proud of that?

  But Harold’s next words shattered William’s little fantasy in an instant.

  “These aren’t the spirits of the dead, though.”

  Harold’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “Dead is dead. Don’t waste your time thinking you’ll come back as one of these things.”

  “Then where do they come from?”

  Someone blurted out the question hanging over everyone’s head.

  If they weren’t the ghosts of the deceased, did they just… pop into existence out of thin air?

  “No one knows.”

  Harold shook his head. “Think of them as monsters—sudden, unbidden, and every bit as terrifying and unknowable as the wraiths we’ve always imagined in stories.”

  “They don’t fear bullets. They don’t fear any of our modern heat weapons. They’re nothing like the monsters we know.”

  “What about nuclear bombs?”

  John raised his hand from the back of the room, curiosity lacing his voice.

  “???”

  Harold froze, dumbfounded.

  You’d nuke an entire city just to take out one wraith? Are you out of your mind?

  “I don’t know if a nuke would kill a wraith,” he snapped, “but it’d turn the whole city into a wasteland!”

  “……”

  John winced. Yeah, that question had been a little ridiculous.

  He’d just been curious, that’s all.

  “Sir, does that mean the wraiths are unbeatable?”

  Despair clouded another student’s eyes.

  Heat weapons were humanity’s greatest strength—the reason they’d dominated the planet. If they were useless now… what hope was there?

  “Of course not.”

  Harold shook his head firmly. “If these are extraordinary beings, there are extraordinary ways to fight them.”

  “The government has its own team of specialists handling these supernatural incidents across the country. The only problem? They’re woefully understaffed, so they can’t put an end to all of it.”

  “That’s why I’m here today. I have a question for all of you.”

  “Do you want to become one of these specialists?”

  The quiet classroom erupted into chaos the second the words left his mouth.

  “You mean… we can fight the wraiths too?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Harold nodded, his voice cutting through the noise. “Per government orders, middle and high schools across the nation will soon be offering a brand-new course.”

  “We call it The Study of Wraiths.”

  “Those who qualify can enroll in the program. And the qualification? It all comes down to one thing—whether you have a Bound Wraith.”

  “A Bound Wraith?”

  “Exactly.”

  Harold’s gaze swept the room. “If you make it into the Wraith Studies Program, you’ll learn everything there is to know about them. I won’t go into details now… mostly because I don’t know them myself.”

  It was clear—he was just a regular man, not one of the government’s supernatural specialists.

  “To find out if you have a Bound Wraith, we’ll need a little help.”

  His eyes shifted toward the classroom door.

  A second man, just as broad and muscular as Harold, stepped inside. In his hand, he held a writhing mass of flesh, glistening with thick, slimy ooze that made every student’s stomach turn.

  Gasps rang out. A few girls screamed outright.

  “Quiet!”

  Harold barked the order, then turned back to the class. “You’ll each come forward, place your hand on this, and it will reveal if you have a Bound Wraith.”

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  Silence fell. Not a single student moved.

  They were just kids. None of them had ever seen a lump of living, breathing flesh before— the mental block was too big to overcome.

  “No one dares?”

  A flicker of contempt crossed Harold’s face. “If this is the best you’ve got, how do you ever hope to kill a wraith?”

  They were all hot-blooded teens. No one could stand a cheap taunt like that. A boy shot to his feet at once.

  He strode up to the podium, chest puffed out— but when his eyes landed on the squelching flesh mass, his courage wavered, fast.

  But every eye in the room was on him. There was no turning back.

  “Fuck it.”

  He steeled himself, reached out, and grabbed the flesh with both hands.

  Nothing happened. The mass lay limp in his grip.

  “No Bound Wraith. Next.”

  The boy let go at once, his face falling with disappointment.

  So that was it. He’d never be a specialist.

  But his small act of bravery broke the spell. The fear in the room faded, replaced by a burning curiosity—everyone wanted to know if they had the gift.

  The government had issued an official statement. They were launching a nationwide Wraith Studies course. This was big—really big.

  A brand-new field, wide open… a shot at making a name for themselves, at being something more.

  Teenage adrenaline surged through their veins. Every single one of them craved to be special, to be the one—the savior of the world.

  But reality hit them like a sledgehammer.

  The next ten students stepped forward, one after another. All of them were ordinary. No Bound Wraiths.

  “Damn.”

  Harold sighed quietly to himself, though he’d expected as much.

  If Bound Wraiths were easy to come by, the world wouldn’t be in such chaos.

  But as he let out that breath, the flesh mass on the podium suddenly throbbed—fast, hard, like a living heart.

  A boy stood frozen in front of it, his eyes wide with confusion and fear.

  “Don’t let go!”

  Harold barked, his voice sharp with sudden excitement.

  Every head snapped around. They all knew what this meant—he was about to awaken a Bound Wraith.

  Seconds ticked by.

  The boy let out a low grunt. Guided by the flesh mass in his hand, a black skull ring materialized in the air before him, floating gently.

  An eerie aura washed over the room, sending a shiver of unease and fear through every student.

  “Excellent! Perfect!”

  Harold’s face lit up with delight. “This is your Bound Wraith— the most potent weapon we have against vengeful wraiths right now.”

  The boy’s eyes blazed with joy. He snatched the ring up at once, turning it over in his hands, awestruck.

  Harold’s gaze flickered with anticipation as he called out, “Next!”

  One by one, the students stepped forward, their nerves replaced by fiery enthusiasm.

  But disappointment followed. Not a single other person awakened a Bound Wraith.

  All eyes turned to the two boys in the very last row.

  “Is it my turn?”

  William sat up straight, barely containing his excitement—though he forced a calm, composed look to keep up an air of dignity.

  He sauntered up to the podium, slow and deliberate, and reached out his hand. All the while, he prayed furiously to his forefathers.

  And in that moment, the flesh mass thundered to life again—thump, thump, thump.

  “Holy shit, it’s real?!”

  William’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “My forefathers really came through for me?!”

  “Don’t let go!”

  Harold shouted, leaning forward in anticipation.

  William didn’t need to be told. His fingers clamped down on the flesh mass so hard he practically squashed it flat.

  Seconds passed.

  William felt a strange connection snap into place. With a thought, he summoned it—whatever it was.

  BOOM!

  The floor in front of him shook. A massive black coffin materialized out of thin air, exuding an aura of cold, unholy dread.

  “Holy crap! Did my dreams just come true?!”

  William stared at the coffin, stunned—he knew this thing. He’d dreamed of it every single night.

  He’d thought it was a curse. A death sentence.

  Turns out it was a blessing in disguise.

  In the span of a few heartbeats, he’d gone from the lowest low to the highest high of his life.

  “Impressive. Truly impressive.”

  Harold’s eyes were wide with wonder and a hint of envy. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir!” William gushed, then leaned in, his voice eager. “Is it strong? Like… SSSSSS-rank legendary strong?”

  “……”

  Harold paused, then shrugged. “We have no baseline yet. The government has no idea what makes a Bound Wraith ‘powerful’ or not.”

  “……”

  William’s mouth twitched. “Sir, then why did you look so impressed?”

  “Bigger’s better, plain and simple!”

  “……”

  William was left speechless.

  The boy with the skull ring, meanwhile, suddenly looked deflated—his confidence taking a nosedive.

  He had no idea what either Bound Wraith could do… but the coffin sure looked a hell of a lot more intimidating than a little ring.

  Harold chuckled, then turned his gaze to the back row. “Alright, you. Last one. Step forward.”

  Every eye in the room locked onto John. Whispers broke out as everyone wondered what his Bound Wraith would be.

  After all, he was the boldest kid in the class—the one who’d seemed most cut out for this kind of work from the start.

  Some even wondered if he’d already awakened his Bound Wraith long before this.

  John felt a flicker of anticipation himself as he stood and walked slowly to the podium.

  The second he drew near the flesh mass, a faint warmth flared in his chest. He blinked, surprised.

  A wraith?

  He stared at the squelching lump of flesh, a flicker of wariness crossing his face.

  But no one else had gotten hurt. So he reached out his hand, ready to awaken his Bound Wraith—if he had one.

  “It’s squishy,” he muttered, poking it lightly. “Like Jell-O.”

  He found himself licking his lips, a strange, hungry glint in his eyes.

  He kind of wanted to take a bite.

  “?”

  Harold heard his mutter and froze, a look of horrified disbelief on his face.

  What the hell is wrong with you? You freak!

  No one noticed. Not a single soul saw the ghostly face that had materialized, hidden from sight, on the palm of John’s right hand—the one wrapped around the flesh mass.

  John didn’t get his bite.

  But something else was about to feast.

  THUMP-THUMP-THUMP!

  The once-limp flesh mass exploded into motion, throbbing so hard it sounded like thunder—loud enough that students in the next classrooms could hear it.

  The entire class jolted awake, their eyes blazing with excitement.

  That kind of reaction? Unheard of.

  “Fuck yeah! That’s my brother!”

  William was sitting on top of his coffin now, leaning forward, his eyes glued to John.

  “Is it supposed to react this violently?”

  Harold stared, a look of pure awe on his face. He muttered to himself, “Did I just find a once-in-a-million prodigy?”

  Gasps and murmurs of wonder rippled through the room. John was blessed with incredible luck—destiny luck.

  Times like these forged heroes. And it looked like Blackwater Town was about to birth one.

  The flesh mass twisted and writhed, desperate to break free of John’s grip. Its throbbing grew even more violent, the sound shaking the walls.

  The class cheered, on the edge of their seats, ready to witness something historic.

  Only the flesh mass knew the truth.

  Its wild thrashing had nothing to do with a powerful Bound Wraith.

  It was running for its life.

  The second it had seen that ghostly face on John’s palm, it had known.

  This kid wasn’t here to awaken a Bound Wraith.

  He was here for a snack.

  This wasn’t some once-in-a-million prodigy.

  This was a fucking terrifying vengeful wraith in human skin.

  “More!” Harold shouted, pumping his fist, fully convinced he’d found a genius. “Let it out! Show us your power!”

  Fuck your power.

  The flesh mass writhed even harder, its squelching cries of terror unheard by everyone but itself.

  It was useless.

  POP!

  In an instant, the flesh mass in John’s hand burst apart. Gobs of slimy, rotting flesh flew everywhere—some even splattered onto the faces of nearby students, who let out startled, vulgar yelps.

  The core of the mass—the wraith within it, the very essence of the Flesh Wraith—had been devoured, swallowed whole by the ghostly face on John’s palm.

  “Wh-What?!”

  Harold’s cheering expression froze mid-grin. He stared at the mess on the podium, dumbfounded. No one was supposed to be able to squash the flesh mass.

  This wasn’t ordinary flesh. It was taken from a real, live vengeful wraith—the Flesh Wraith.

  The government had captured it alive, studied it relentlessly, and extracted its flesh to create these test subjects. All to trigger the awakening of humans’ Bound Wraiths.

  “The Flesh Wraith’s tissue is indestructible,” Harold whispered, his eyes wide with confusion. “It’s not a spirit, but it’s impervious to all physical harm.”

  Yet a regular teenage boy had just squashed it like a bug.

  “This is against every rule of… of science—of Wraith Studies!”

  “Uh…”

  John knew exactly what had happened. But he put on his best look of clueless confusion, scratching the back of his head. “Uh… Mr. Harold? Does this mean I have a Bound Wraith… or not?”

  Harold stared at him, then at the splattered flesh on the floor, then back at John.

  “I have no idea.”

  “……”