"Who? Who is it? Who is laughing?"
Wang Yang was on edge, feeling the air around him grow cold and thick, and a chilling sensation swept over his entire body.
"Warning! Warning! Warning! Supernatural intrusion! Please defend immediately."
"Something's wrong, boss, a ghost has entered the interrogation room."
The man had just hung up the phone when he heard what his subordinate said, so he quickly ran back.
"Where are the team members who stayed behind? Are they all just sitting around doing nothing?"
The man roared angrily.
Inside the room, Wang Yang was shivering from the cold.
The dish that suddenly appeared on the table was like an evil creature crawling out of endless darkness.
The dish emitted a cold, eerie light, the light seemingly tangible, swirling around it in wisps, adding to the already chilly atmosphere.
The disc is covered with strange patterns, like ancient incantations or a map of some mysterious ritual. The patterns seem to flow subtly, as if telling an untold horror story.
In the center of the dish was a pool of dark red liquid, resembling blood but not quite, emitting a pungent, fishy smell.
The liquid swayed slightly, reflecting a distorted image, like a peephole into another world.
On the edge of the plate, there were some fine black residues, like ashes from a fire or long-rotted bone fragments.
The appearance of the dish caused the temperature in the room to drop sharply, and Wang Yang could clearly see his breath condensing into frost in front of him.
His trembling eyes were fixed on the plate, his body stiff with fear, the plate like a vortex.
The surrounding fear and chill gradually converged, becoming the core of this supernatural invasion. Every second of being stared at was like staring into the eyes of death, making Wang Yang's soul tremble.
Wang Yang felt as if his hand was being pulled by an invisible force, and involuntarily placed it on the plate that exuded an aura of death.
The moment his fingertips touched the plate, a bone-chilling coldness spread through his body like an electric current. He tried to pull his hand back, but found that his arm was frozen and wouldn't budge.
"Ouija board... Ouija board spirit... weren't you... killed?"
Wang Yang's voice trembled so badly that each word seemed to be squeezed out with difficulty from between his teeth.
The image of those three country women killing the Ouija board spirit flashed through his mind, but now, it all seemed like a cruel joke.
"The one that was killed was a substitute spirit, I am the real one!"
The Ouija board's icy voice seemed to come from the deepest hell, echoing eerily in the room. Each syllable was like a sharp steel knife, piercing Wang Yang's eardrums.
Wang Yang was dumbfounded. After a moment of stunned silence, he burst out cursing, "Fuck your mother! How the hell could you possibly have a stand-in?"
His eyes were wide open and bloodshot, a mixture of anger and fear burning within him.
He never imagined that he would be outmaneuvered by such absurd tactics.
"This is outrageous! Are all ghosts these days so opportunistic?"
His roar reverberated in the cold air, yet it could not dispel the ever-present terror.
"Heh... Go ahead and curse! Curse as much as you want! The more you enjoy cursing, the more miserable your death will be."
The Ouija board's eerie voice grew increasingly shrill, like the screeching sound of fingernails scratching a blackboard, churning wildly deep within Wang Yang's soul.
With that sound, the dark red liquid on the plate began to churn violently, as if it were alive, bubbling up blood-red bubbles. After the bubbles burst, they released an even stronger fishy smell, a smell that seemed to be a proclamation of death.
The surrounding air became thicker, as if countless invisible hands were pulling at Wang Yang, making it increasingly difficult for him to breathe.
Black liquid began to seep from the walls, slowly flowing and pooling on the ground, forming puddles that emitted a foul stench.
In those puddles, distorted human faces faintly emerged, their mouths agape, emitting silent screams, as if telling Wang Yang about the torment they suffered at the hands of the Ouija board.
The lights began to flicker, and in the intermittent light and shadow, Wang Yang saw some blurry figures appearing around him.
Those figures resembled souls imprisoned in darkness, struggling and writhing in agony. Their bodies were incomplete; some were headless, others had limbs twisted at strange angles. They slowly approached Wang Yang, and with each step closer, the surrounding temperature dropped several degrees.
"Open the door! What the hell are you all standing there for?"
The man rushed back at that moment. When he saw the scene inside, his pupils shrank sharply. "Five-star vengeful ghost."
Wang Yang's body was completely consumed by fear; his legs were weak and he could barely stand.
His clothes were soaked with sweat, which quickly froze in the cold environment.
His eyes darted frantically around the room, trying to find a glimmer of hope, but all he saw was endless terror and despair.
The Ouija board's merciless laughter echoed in his ears, as if it were a death prelude for him, and he was walking step by step toward that inescapable abyss.
"Boss, it's no use. They won't come through the door, and... we might not be able to handle them."
The man's mind raced with thoughts, and cold sweat poured down his back.
"This is a real Ouija board, so... those college students who were killed weren't killed by the Ouija board, they could only be vengeful ghosts from the school..."
He muttered to himself, his voice trembling uncontrollably in the cold atmosphere.
Kyoto University, an institution built on a cemetery, has always relied on the aura of its top scholars throughout history to suppress the evil spirits underground.
But now, everything is in chaos. The Ouija board rampage on campus is just the beginning, and now it seems that other, even more terrifying ghosts are lurking.
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