Game 44: Crates and Cold Sweat
Masatoshi frowned. He dismissed it. "Shut up. It's just nerves. Don't ruin the moment."
But Ha-neul knew. She could feel it.
Her Ghost Bride.
The spectral presence, tethered to her soul, wasn't just dormant tonight. It was awake, restless, writhing against the foreign intrusion of Masatoshi's skill. His "Mind Influence" wasn't just affecting her friends, it was brushing against the spiritual bond inside her, poking a nest that should've never been disturbed.
For a moment, Ha-neul staggered, clutching her forehead. Her vision flickered between reality and something else, shadows thickening, whispers echoing in an ancient tongue.
The Ghost Bride's will surged like a tidal wave, crashing against Masatoshi's psychic grip.
Her friends Min-ji and Mia twitched. Their eyes flickered, resistance bubbling through the cracks.
