“We’ll talk about that later.”
Ethan shook his head, then continued.
“What I’m saying is, if you want to stay alive, you have to keep your wits about you. No fear, and your chances of survival skyrocket.”
Solemnity settled over the room.
Easy to say, impossible to do.
Humans were hardwired to fear ghosts. A single scare, and that fear bubbled up unbidden.
Plenty in the room prided themselves on being fearless—they’d watch horror movies without flinching.
But movies were just movies.
When the supernatural came for you, fear was inevitable. Even the seasoned professionals bonded to ghosts couldn’t escape it.
They just felt it less than ordinary people, thanks to experience—enough to keep their cool, to avoid breaking down entirely.
A voice cut through the silence from the back. “Professor, but everyone’s afraid of dying. We can’t fight human instinct, can we?”
“You’re worrying about the wrong thing.”
Ethan shook his head. “That’s fear of death. What ghosts feed on is fear of them.”
Relief washed over the student’s face, and they grinned.
“Then I’ve got nothing to worry about. I’m terrified of dying, but scary stuff? Doesn’t phase me one bit.”
“Think again.”
Ethan’s expression twisted into an odd smile. “A lot of people think they don’t fear ghosts, just death. But that’s a lie.”
“We call this fear a jump scare threshold—fitting, don’t you think? Even the bravest person has one, a breaking point.”
“Yours might be higher than most, but it’s not unbreakable. You might look calm on the surface, but your heart’s already racing a mile a minute.”
“Besides, humans have imaginations. We scare ourselves half to death. All it takes is three words—There’s a ghost in the bedroom—and most people won’t sleep a wink all night.”
The room fell quiet. Ethan was right.
Their entrance exam for the Intelligence Division had proven it—everyone’s heart rate had spiked, a sign their jump scare threshold had been triggered, if only a little.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
And that had just been a movie.
When a ghost was standing right in front of you, complete calm was impossible.
“Professor—could anyone ever have no jump scare threshold at all?”
“Not that we’ve found.”
Ethan shook his head. “Unless they’re not human… or they’re sick.”
He was mid-sentence, encouraging the class, when his gaze snapped to one student below. “You. What are you laughing at?”
“Huh?”
John’s grin vanished in an instant, and he schooled his features into a serious mask. “I wasn’t laughing.”
“Your smile’s wider than an AK’s recoil. Anyone with eyes can see it.”
“…”
John scratched his nose, avoiding eye contact. “Just thought of something funny, that’s all.”
“Pay attention in class!”
Ethan had no clue what had the boy so elated. He just turned back to his lesson and kept going.
Beneath his desk, John’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, his heart soaring.
He’d spent weeks desperate to cure his mental illness.
But now? It wasn’t an illness at all. It was a goddamn cheat code.
Just as Ethan had said—his condition meant he truly had no jump scare threshold. He was one in a million.
Which meant ghosts rarely posed a mortal threat to him.
They might not care about him, but he sure as hell cared about them. Any ghost, any at all—he could devour them, trade their essence for those strength-boosting pills.
The thought of getting better was gone. All John could think about was seizing his chance in this new world.
“Ghosts of the world,” he muttered to himself, a fire in his chest. “Your big brother’s coming for you.”
He wasn’t stupid enough to be reckless, though.
Low risk didn’t mean no risk. If he ran into a truly powerful ghost—one that got frustrated when it couldn’t rattle him—it might just kill him out of spite.
After all, when people get mad, they even yell at random dogs on the street.
“The only way to be safe is to get stronger.”
John knew it down to his bones.
His cheat code was a shield, not an immortality spell.
A hand shot up from the crowd. “Professor, if that’s the case, are ordinary people just doomed in a fight with a ghost?”
Those bonded to ghosts could hold their own. But everyone else? They couldn’t run, couldn’t fight. All they could do was let the fear build until the ghost killed them.
“Of course not.”
Ethan shook his head. “You don’t have to be completely fearless. Just keep your jump scare threshold low—don’t give the ghost what it wants, and you’ll live to fight another day.”
“Besides, ordinary people can fight back, if they’re brave enough. A strong mind can even break a ghost—catch it off guard, and you might just turn the tables and kill it first!”
“But it all starts with courage. If you freeze up, if you collapse in terror—you can’t fight back at all.”
“As for how ordinary people can actually kill a ghost? That’s tomorrow’s lesson.”
He checked his watch. “Class is dismissed for today.”
“One last thing: none of this is set in stone. We still have so few ghost files, the authorities can’t guarantee it works for every case. Just most of them.”
The class nodded, scribbling the final notes down.
If they ran into a freak case? They’d just have to hope for the best.
“Alright, you’re free to go!”
Ethan glanced around the room, then added, “And remember this—courage is your greatest weapon.”
A chorus of nods answered him.
John, though, froze.
That line… he’d heard it before.
Wait a second. The old Taoist!
His eyes widened. He thought back to the old man at the downtown church, the one everyone called a fraud.
“Maybe that old con man actually knew his stuff?”
John stroked his chin, musing. “But why didn’t his yellow talisman work?”
“Could it have worked… and the ghost face was just that powerful?”
It made sense. But then another question hit him.
Why would a ghost that strong latch onto him?
Was it just looking for a home?
He frowned, unable to figure it out. After a moment, he shrugged it off.
It didn’t matter, not really.
What mattered was this: the world had changed, and overnight, John had become the meta.
