School let out, and the students filed out of the classroom, chatting animatedly among themselves.

  That first lesson alone had been a revelation for every member of the Intelligence Division, clearing up countless questions that had lingered in their minds.

  They also saw the truth more clearly than the average person: this world wasn’t going to end so easily.

  At least, not with humanity’s current strength. Far from it.

  “The future’s gonna be chaotic, that’s for sure…”

  John muttered to himself as he walked down the street, his mind racing.

  But he wasn’t overly worried. With his condition and the ghost face inside him, survival was all but guaranteed.

  “Buddy, I’m counting on you.”

  He glanced down at his chest, as if he could see the ghost face lurking beneath his skin.

  It no longer seemed like it was out to harm him. If anything, their relationship was a mutually beneficial symbiosis.

  I feed you ghosts, you hook me up with pills.

  Is there anything sweeter than that?

  That night, John polished off every last bit of meat on his table and let out a contented burp.

  “Chef’s kiss. That hit the spot.”

  He patted his stomach, feeling his body brim with energy once more.

  Ever since his physical abilities had skyrocketed, his appetite had followed suit. If he didn’t have a little savings stashed away, he’d already be unable to afford to eat.

  “Gotta stop stuffing my face like this, though.”

  A twinge of pain pricked his wallet—this single meal of meat had cost him three hundred bucks. He sighed at the sky-high prices.

  If he kept eating like this, even the Intelligence Division’s stipend wouldn’t be enough to keep him afloat for long.

  “My phone’s practically falling apart. I need to get a new one, and some new appliances for home too. I’m really short on cash…”

  Now that he was in the Intelligence Division, John had a steady base salary. Naturally, he wanted to upgrade his life a little.

  He sank back into the hotel couch, already brainstorming schemes to make more money.

  His neighborhood had been put on lockdown after the supernatural incident that morning, so he’d been staying in a government-assigned hotel.

  “Go back to exorcising ghosts for cash? Too risky, and it’s not like jobs are easy to come by anyway.”

  The sudden surge in supernatural activity had brought out all the charlatans and frauds. No one was going to trust a senior high school kid to get rid of a ghost.

  “Keep running my street stall? Too slow, and I’ve got Division classes to attend.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  John’s mind wandered from one money-making idea to the next, until sleep finally overtook him.

  The next day, John was jolted awake by a deafening commotion.

  “What the hell? Since when is a hotel this loud?”

  He yawned, slipped on his slippers, and swung open his hotel room door.

  The hallway was packed with people, all wearing expressions of sheer panic and terror—some were even having full-blown panic attacks.

  “Wait a minute… this feels way too familiar.”

  As he took in their faces, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

  Something bad had happened again.

  His drowsiness vanished in an instant. He strode forward and pushed his way into Room 506, the center of the crowd.

  Sure enough, on the bed lay a corpse, its body and the sheets covered in eerie bloodstained footprints.

  “Shit.”

  John’s brow furrowed. He knew this was bad.

  They’d fled the neighborhood, yet the ghost had still killed someone here.

  This meant it was just like the embroidered shoe ghost all over the internet—running away did absolutely nothing.

  It had set its sights on every single person in this hotel.

  John let out a helpless sigh.

  Everyone here was his old neighbor, people who’d always looked out for him. But there was nothing he could do to save them. His gift only protected himself.

  The only thing he could do was call Brian and hope the higher-ups would take this incident seriously.

  Because if this kept up, people would die every single day.

  After getting Brian’s assurance that he’d pass the word along, John cleaned himself up and headed to school.

  “Everyone, today we’re going to talk about how ordinary people can fight back against ghosts!”

  Ethan stood at the front of the classroom, continuing his lesson on all things supernatural.

  “First, let’s cover the two main classifications of malevolent ghosts we’ve identified so far: Spirit-Type and Curse-Type.”

  “Spirit-Type ghosts are what you picture when you hear the word ‘ghost.’ They’re incorporeal by default—you can’t see them, and physical attacks can’t touch them at all.”

  “Curse-Type ghosts, on the other hand, are corporeal by default—you can see and touch them. But attack one recklessly, and you’ll become cursed. And don’t make the mistake of thinking they’re just like zombies. With their supernatural power, they can still turn invisible, teleport, and do all sorts of other unnerving things.”

  The students scribbled furiously in their notebooks, committing every word to memory.

  Both types were practically unbeatable for ordinary people: one you couldn’t hit, the other you couldn’t touch without paying the price.

  But since Ethan had said today’s lesson was about fighting back, he must have an answer for them.

  “And to fight a ghost, you need a medium.” Ethan scrawled the word on the blackboard in bold letters, then turned back to the class.

  “A medium is your weapon. It lets you make contact with Spirit-Type ghosts and grants you immunity to the curses of Curse-Type ones.”

  “The most common mediums are the ones you’ve heard about in folk tales: black dog’s blood, rooster’s blood, cinnabar, and so on.”

  John nodded in understanding from his seat. He already had hands-on experience with all of these.

  A student raised their hand. “Professor, if we armed every single person in the country with medium-based weapons, couldn’t we end the supernatural crisis in no time?”

  Most ordinary people lacked the courage to face a malevolent ghost, true.

  But humanity’s numbers were staggering. Even if only one in ten thousand, or one in a hundred thousand, had the guts to fight back, they could wipe out all the supernatural threats in an instant.

  There were plenty of supernatural incidents these days, but nothing compared to the billions of humans in the world.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Ethan shook his head. “The mediums I’m talking about only work on low-tier ghosts.”

  “Against high-rank malevolent ghosts? You still won’t be able to touch them, and you’ll still fall victim to their curses.”

  The class nodded, the realization dawning on them. To end the supernatural crisis, the real key was taking down the most powerful malevolent ghosts of all.

  “So that’s why the people with Bound Ghosts are the ones who have to step up?”

  John’s eyes lit up, and he spoke up.

  “Exactly.”

  Ethan nodded. “Bound Ghosts are the ultimate medium weapons. And most importantly, they’re capable of growth. They’re the only chance humanity has at taking down the most powerful malevolent ghosts.”

  It all clicked for the students then. That was why those with Bound Ghosts were held in such high regard.

  At the same time, a flicker of disappointment crossed their faces. Even if they had unshakable courage—even if they were willing to die for it—they could only ever fight low-tier ghosts.

  In this new age, they were destined to be nothing more than supporting characters.