The taxi driver's peculiar behavior lingered in Chen Ge's mind, a nagging unease that refused to dissipate as he stood alone in the pouring rain, the muddy path stretching into the darkness before him.
Taxi drivers, by virtue of their trade, were often the most knowledgeable about Jiujiang's hidden corners, familiar with every alley and taboo location whispered about in hushed tones. Yet this driver had not only refused to take Chen Ge to Mu Yang High School but had tossed out the seat mat he'd sat on, as if Chen Ge himself carried some taint.
Did he misunderstand me? Or does he know something about the school that I don't? The question gnawed at him, the black phone's weight in his pocket a constant reminder of the Mu Yang High School mission's stakes. The driver's actions felt like a warning, amplifying the dread seeded by the online tales of haunted classrooms and ghostly students. Zhang Ya's crimson presence stirred, her "Yours forever" vow a faint pulse, urging him to tread carefully into a night where the school's secrets might prove more dangerous than any he'd faced before, even at Ping An Apartments.
The rain-soaked mat lay abandoned in the mud, a symbol of the isolation awaiting him, and Chen Ge's resolve wavered, the mission's ominous requirement—survive until dawn—looming larger with every passing moment.
The black phone's mission description echoed in Chen Ge's thoughts, its simplicity chilling: survive until dawn. Unlike other missions that tasked him with specific goals, this one implied that mere survival was a formidable challenge, a testament to the dangers lurking at Mu Yang High School. The online stories he'd read—tales of the sealed classroom, the Pen Spirit game, and the mysterious footprints—had seemed unsettling but not insurmountable. Yet the driver's abrupt rejection and the discarded mat shifted his perspective, casting the school's legends in a darker light. If even the black phone sees survival as the goal, what am I walking into? The thought tightened his chest, the rain drumming against his raincoat as he stood in a desolate expanse of trees, the taxi's taillights long vanished down the muddy road.
Zhang Ya's mark flared in his eyes, her sadistic allure whispering of the horrors ahead, where Fan Yu's black-and-red drawings and the woman's haunted photo might hold the key to survival—or doom. Chen Ge pulled his raincoat tighter, the weight of the mission pressing against him, knowing that every step forward was a gamble against forces that might outmatch even Zhang Ya's spectral power.
The rain intensified, a relentless downpour that obscured the moonlight, leaving Chen Ge in near-total darkness as he fumbled for his flashlight, its beam cutting a narrow path through the gloom. The muddy road squelched under his boots, the surrounding trees twisting into grotesque shapes, their untrimmed branches clawing into the path like skeletal fingers. He moved toward the cluster of buildings he'd glimpsed from the cab, their silhouettes barely visible through the storm.
As he drew closer, their dilapidation became starkly apparent: rusted chains dangled from warped doors, shattered windows gaped like empty eyes, and peering through the cracks revealed interiors choked with rotting furniture and crawling with unseen insects. No signs of life, Chen Ge thought, his unease deepening. The desolation mirrored the woman's description of the area around Mu Yang High School, a place abandoned to decay.
The black phone's Deep Well hint—"Everyone has a deep well inside their heart where shameful and unknowable secrets stay buried"—resonated, tying this forsaken place to Fan Yu's trauma. Zhang Ya's crimson presence pulsed, urging him to press on despite the growing sense that this cursed land held secrets that could unravel him.
Chen Ge trudged deeper into the unknown, the muddy path growing narrower, the overgrown trees closing in like a living cage. The woman's information about Mu Yang High School's surroundings—its history as a crematorium, its isolation—guided his steps, but with no one to ask for directions, he relied solely on memory. A crematorium would've needed a road for vehicles, but this path is barely walkable, he thought, doubt creeping in as the trail dwindled, choked by shrubs and mud. The rain slowed his progress, each step a battle against the slick ground, and the fear of getting lost gnawed at him. If the school isn't at the end of this road, I'll have to turn back and abandon the mission.
The thought was bitter, but the black phone's 11 p.m. deadline loomed, and wasting time on a wrong path could be fatal. Zhang Ya's mark burned in his eyes, her sadistic whispers urging him to keep moving, her "Yours forever" vow a chain binding him to the mission. The path's desolation, coupled with the driver's strange behavior, amplified his unease, but Chen Ge pressed on, the flashlight's beam his only guide through the rain-soaked wilderness toward a school that felt increasingly like a trap.
After thirty grueling minutes, the path ended at a fallen sign and a weathered wooden fence, both half-buried in mud and overgrown with lichen. Chen Ge knelt to inspect the sign, its faded characters illegible under his flashlight's beam. Lichen only on one side—sun exposure, or has someone moved this recently? The question hung unanswered, the possibility of recent visitors adding another layer of mystery. He checked his phone: nearly 8 p.m., with the mission's location still elusive. At least I've got signal, he thought, a small comfort knowing he could call for help if needed.
The rain-drenched night was oppressively dark, his phone's glow the only light for miles, illuminating the sign and fence—both oddly disturbed, as if someone had been here. Chen Ge used the sign to push through the dense shrubbery, his heart pounding as he advanced another ten meters. The scenery shifted abruptly: broken wooden railings emerged from the forest, encircling a cluster of squat, dilapidated buildings. Mu Yang High School? Compared to Western Jiujiang's Private Academy, this school was a ruin, barely a third its size, its crumbling walls and shadowed windows exuding a malevolence that chilled him. Zhang Ya's crimson allure surged, her presence a warning that the school's secrets—tied to Fan Yu's drawings and the sealed classroom—awaited, promising a night where survival might demand everything he had.
Chen Ge stood before the dilapidated gates of Mu Yang High School, his flashlight cutting through the rain-soaked darkness, but he refused to let the school's smaller size lull him into complacency. While its compact layout meant less ground to cover, it also offered fewer places to hide, a fact that heightened his vigilance as the Mu Yang High School mission loomed—arrive by 11 p.m., survive until dawn. The black phone's weight in his pocket felt heavier, its Deep Well hint—"Everyone has a deep well inside their heart where shameful and unknowable secrets stay buried"—echoing in his mind, tying the school's eerie aura to Fan Yu's haunting drawings of black houses and red figures.
A smaller school might concentrate its horrors, making every shadow a potential threat, and the memory of the taxi driver's strange behavior—tossing out the seat mat, refusing cash—suggested this place held a reputation that unnerved even Jiujiang's most seasoned. Zhang Ya's crimson presence stirred, her "Yours forever" vow a chilling reminder that the night's dangers, from sealed classrooms to spectral students, could test the limits of her sadistic protection. Chen Ge tightened his grip on the flashlight, his heart steady but alert, knowing that survival here would demand every ounce of his cunning and courage.
With a resolute breath, Chen Ge tossed the lichen-covered sign aside and vaulted over the broken wooden railings, his boots sinking into the muddy ground as he entered Mu Yang High School's grounds.
The school's layout unfolded before him, stark and desolate under the relentless rain, its buildings visible in a single glance despite the gloom. Closest to the entrance stood the education block, its blackened facade a testament to a long-ago fire, the walls charred and cracked, teetering on the edge of collapse. To the left, a two-story dormitory squatted, its small size hinting at a dwindling student body, with only a handful of rooms visible through shattered windows.
On the right, the office building stood in better condition, its exterior less ravaged by time and elements, though an eerie stillness clung to it. Beyond the education block lay an uneven field, dotted with two weathered basketball courts and a few ping-pong tables, their surfaces warped by neglect. The school's simplicity struck Chen Ge as oddly lifeless, lacking the vibrancy of even Western Jiujiang's Private Academy, and he wondered if its closure stemmed not from supernatural rumors but from a mundane lack of students. Zhang Ya's mark flared in his eyes, her presence urging him to see beyond the ordinary, to the horrors hidden within this unassuming ruin.
Despite the school's foreboding atmosphere, Chen Ge felt a strange calm settle over him as he crossed the threshold, his expertise in managing fear honed by countless missions kicking in. The black phone's four side missions for Mu Yang High School—The Pen Spirit, The Fifth Cubicle in the Toilet, Deep Well, and The Sealed Classroom—loomed large, each a piece of the puzzle to unlock the full School of the Afterlife scenario. His success at Ping An Apartments, where a near-perfect completion rate earned him Wang Qi's Missing Person Notice and Xiaoxiao's spectral allegiance, underscored the importance of tackling every mission.
Yet the challenge was daunting: each side mission carried the eerie weight of a Nightmare Mission, and completing all four in one night felt like a gauntlet designed to break him. The black phone's hum vibrated faintly, Zhang Ya's crimson allure pulsing, her "Yours forever" vow a chain binding him to the task. Chen Ge's mind raced, strategizing: It's not yet midnight, the witching hour for the other world's residents. I have time to scout these locations. If they're too dangerous, I can still retreat. With that, he tucked Xiaoxiao's doll into his chest, gripped his multi-purpose mallet, and headed toward the education block, its charred silhouette a grim beacon in the rain.
The education block loomed before Chen Ge, its soot-blackened surface a stark reminder of the fire that had scarred it, the damage so severe it seemed the building could crumble at a gust of wind. Could this be tied to the crematorium that once stood here? he wondered, the school's dark history as a burial ground for the dead amplifying his unease. The black phone's mission description for The Sealed Classroom replayed in his mind: "There's a classroom at the end of the corridor that's always sealed. No one ever enters it, but every night, the classroom comes alive with activity."
The woman's story of Fan Yu's father, lured into that room for a haunting photo with faceless students, suggested it was the epicenter of the school's paranormal activity. Zhang Ya's presence surged, her sadistic whispers urging him toward the classroom, where the spectral students might await. Chen Ge moved cautiously, his flashlight sweeping the ground, his steps light to avoid drawing attention from whatever lingered in the shadows. The rain's steady drumbeat mingled with the wind's howl, creating a symphony of dread that heightened his senses, the mallet's weight a reassuring anchor as he approached the building's entrance, ready to face the horrors within.
Chen Ge peered through the education block's windows, his flashlight illuminating abandoned classrooms cluttered with dust-covered desks and faded posters, their normalcy a stark contrast to the mission's ominous stakes. Each door was locked, the rusted handles unyielding, forcing him to rely on his light to probe the interiors.
The front classrooms revealed nothing unusual, their decay mundane, but as he reached the final classroom at the corridor's end, his breath caught. Unlike the others, this room was untouched by the fire, its walls pristine, as if preserved by some unnatural force. In the center, a table held neatly arranged books, papers, and a pen, positioned as if a class had just concluded. The sight sent a chill through Chen Ge, the illusion of recent activity clashing with the school's abandonment. This must be the sealed classroom, he thought, the woman's haunted photo flashing in his mind—her brother surrounded by students who refused to face the camera, standing on tiptoes.