"??"

  Everyone stared at James, stunned for a moment. Still trying to say you're not scared?

  "John, come to my bed, it's warm!"

  "Bro, come here. You can do anything you want tonight!"

  Suddenly, a few guys latched onto John's leg, another grabbed his arm, and someone even threw an arm around his neck... The whole dorm was on edge, panic written all over their faces.

  "Get off me, all of you," John said, effortlessly peeling them away with both hands before climbing back into his own bunk.

  In the past, this might have been a struggle, but with his improved physical condition, it was easy.

  "John, you're so strong! Don't go..."

  "Anyone who tries to get in my bed is getting kicked out!" John looked at the group. "The dorm's this small. If there really is a ghost, who's getting away?"

  Hearing this, everyone relaxed a little.

  "Tom, any update from the OP?" John asked again.

  "Let me check..." Tom pulled out his phone, then shrugged a moment later. "The thread's gone. Taken down. 404."

  "..."

  John wasn't surprised. The post had gone viral, after all.

  "Then go to sleep." He stretched, lay down, and was out.

  William poked his head out again, whispering, "Bro, don't forget about my thing."

  "Relax. Sleep."

  Soon, quiet returned to the dorm.

  But except for John, no one could settle down. Closing their eyes only brought back the image of those embroidered shoes...

  And so, the night passed in a state of nervous apprehension.

  The next morning, John woke up right on time, feeling exceptionally energetic and in peak physical condition.

  "Feels good."

  From his top bunk, he could easily survey the room.

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  The rest of the dorm showed no signs of getting up, and every single one of them had their blankets pulled completely over their heads.

  To an outsider, it might look more like a morgue...

  "..."

  John shook his head. Clearly, they all subscribed to the universal truth: 'Ghosts don't attack people under the covers.'

  He glanced down at William in the lower bunk and touched his own chest.

  Although he'd slept soundly, it hadn't been deep. He would have noticed any sudden warmth on his chest immediately.

  It seemed William hadn't been haunted last night.

  Soon, the lights flickered on. Despite their reluctance, everyone groggily got up. Their bleary eyes and sluggish movements said it all—it hadn't been a good night's sleep.

  "John, how's my situation? I dreamed about it again last night," William asked urgently as soon as he was awake.

  "Everything's fine." John patted his shoulder. "Try to relax."

  But William's expression remained serious. He lowered his voice. "Last night in the dream... the coffin lid opened. Just a crack."

  "Hmm? There's a change?" John's attention sharpened. "What was inside?"

  "Couldn't see." William shook his head. "Just a small gap."

  "I see..." John wasn't sure what it meant either. "If you're still worried, maybe you and your parents could go to a temple to get a protective charm or something."

  "Weren't you selling those before?"

  "Those were wholesale. Mostly for peace of mind..."

  "Alright..." William reluctantly nodded, resolving to adjust his mindset. At least for now, the thing didn't seem to pose a real threat.

  After a quick wash-up, everyone hurried out of the dorm, diving back into their studies.

  Last night's scare, while unsettling, was just a minor distraction. Their main focus remained the impending college entrance exams.

  A week flew by.

  The incident of the embroidered shoes gradually faded from memory. As creepy as it seemed, it was just an online story, far removed from their daily lives.

  John hadn't been concerned from the start and was now fully immersed in his studies. He knew the world was changing subtly, but he still needed to focus on his education and get into university first.

  On the way home from school...

  "John, any plans for the weekend?" William asked. His spirits seemed much better, a significant improvement from the previous week. Clearly, John's presence offered a sense of security.

  "You're not setting up your stall anymore. We could finally have a proper gaming session. Ready to dive in this weekend?"

  Senior year was busy, but they still had one day off each week for a break.

  "Gaming can wait. Got something else to do." John shook his head. "William, your family's in business. Any channels to get rooster blood?"

  Black dog blood might be effective, but getting it wasn't easy. Old Luke only had that small jar last time, supposedly from a dog that died back in his hometown.

  If folklore said black dog blood worked, maybe rooster blood would too.

  "Rooster blood? Can't you get that at any wet market?"

  "I need it from a large, red rooster. Preferably free-range, aggressive ones. You know, the fighting kind?"

  "..."

  William paused, then nodded cautiously. "That stuff works on ghosts?!"

  "Somewhat."

  "I'll ask my parents when I get home!"

  Preoccupied with this new task, William lost interest in gaming and soon parted ways with John.

  "Hope William finds something," John muttered to himself. If rooster blood could also counter supernatural entities, it was worth stocking up.

  Market-bought stuff seemed unreliable.

  And buying it online? He didn't even consider it, especially after the "buy one get three free" peach wood sword incident...

  Soon, John arrived at his apartment complex, carrying a large bag of delicious-smelling braised food.

  The school cafeteria was filling, but the taste left much to be desired, and the nutrition wasn't great either...

  Finally having a weekend, he was treating himself.

  "Uncle, off work?"

  "Auntie, just back from shopping?"

  "Xiaodong, just got home?"

  John exchanged greetings with the neighbors, who all responded warmly—a scene of peaceful, ordinary life.

  Even with supernatural events emerging, they hadn't yet disrupted the daily rhythm for most people. For now, they seemed like low-probability occurrences.

  Though John might have been a bit unlucky in that regard...

  That night, John was enjoying his braised feast while watching an old show on TV.

  Tomorrow was the weekend. As a student, there was no chance he'd go to bed early. He'd stay up as late as possible...

  "Midnight already?" John noticed the time display on the TV.

  He looked down at his bare chest. As usual, there was no sign of the ghostly face.

  "It's been a whole week. You're really not giving out any more medicine?" John frowned, talking to himself.

  "You're a doctor. Aren't you worried about getting a complaint for being so irresponsible..."

  Last time, just one "pill" had drastically boosted his physical abilities. He wasn't a superhero, but he was definitely stronger than the average person now.

  A few more doses, and he might actually get there...

  He loved the idea of getting stronger without any effort.

  But unfortunately, the ghostly face didn't hand out medicine without reason.

  He'd already formed a theory.

  To get more medicine, he probably had to feed ghosts to the face first.

  Trading ghosts for medicine—that seemed to be the deal between him and the entity on his chest.