"What?!"

The moment Wanli Fengdao's mind registered the shock, his body instinctively obeyed, legs moving to sprint forward.

From the low-lying rice paddies behind him came a non-human, piercing scream of "Wuwuwuwaaaaah!" mingled with the "shush shush" sound of something parting the rice stalks, rapidly approaching.

Wanli Fengdao didn't dare look back. He ran as hard as he could.

Now that his supernatural abilities had receded like the tide, the fear of being helpless before a supernatural entity, the fear of imminent death, resurfaced.

Run! Run!

The agonizing screams behind him grew closer.

Wanli Fengdao ran headlong for a while, not daring to look back even for a second, afraid of triggering some "instant death" mechanism where merely looking would kill him.

His breathing became rapid. The cold wind whipped against his bare upper body, sending chills down his spine.

The small mountain village seemed to have just had rain. The fields were muddy, and with each step, he felt as if his shoes would be sucked off by the mud.

He couldn't keep running through the fields. It was too exhausting.

Wanli Fengdao's face tightened. He stepped on the ridges between the fields and the concrete blocks along the ditch, leaping nimbly onto the road.

The narrow concrete road was only wide enough for two cars to pass side by side. There were no guardrails on either side, and on the left, dim streetlights, swarming with mosquitoes, stood at intervals.

It was just an ordinary country road, but at least running on it was easier.

Splat!

Behind him on the road, he heard the sound of a wet mop hitting the ground. That thing was still chasing him.

If the situation weren't so dire, Wanli Fengdao would have turned around and cursed, "I swear! Are you stupid? Why are you chasing me?"

Of course, that was just a thought.

He sprinted along. The road formed a loop, forking at a small bridge in the distance. The left side led to the village, while the right side hugged the mountains, winding and snaking into the darkness.

The left road to the village was obscured by a long row of trees. Through the shadows of the trees, he could faintly see lights.

Although he couldn't see what was chasing him,

Wanli Fengdao understood the survival tactic in paranormal events: always run towards people.

Huff, huff.

Fukugami Hirabaru's body was still just a child's. Running in the cold night was draining his stamina too quickly.

Fortunately, Wanli Fengdao knew some breathing techniques, and he managed to reach the small bridge before collapsing from exhaustion.

The streetlight on the bridge seemed to be broken. The middle of the bridge was pitch black, so dark he couldn't see his hand in front of his face.

Standing in the darkness, Wanli Fengdao heard a hubbub of voices and a strange, muted drumbeat coming from the road to the left of the bridge.

Then, he saw the source of the music.

It was a huge procession. At the front were four men wearing white Shinto priest robes, masked and holding *gohei* (a ritual purification wand made of paper streamers).

The four priests walked side by side, chanting prayers. Their white robes billowed, sprouting tentacles that dragged on the ground like demons.

Behind them was a chorus.

The chorus members were dressed in kimonos, holding pine torches, singing bizarre and incomprehensible ancient songs.

Their faces were not human faces, but stiff, rigid masks like those used by *Noh* (traditional Japanese drama) actors.

Mud eyes with golden pupils,

Snakes with gaping mouths,

Hannya (a demon in Japanese folklore) with twisted faces and horns,

Innocent-looking child deities,

The emaciated, resentful Shunkan,

The red-faced, leering ape.

Each member's body changed like their *Noh* mask,

Becoming shorter,

Or taller, covered in hair, resembling demons.

The chorus moved slowly. Guarded in the middle was a square wooden altar.

Copper bells, daggers, swords, and other ornaments hung from the four corners of the altar, clanging in the wind.

Under the red canopy on top of the altar, sat... a little girl in a formal kneeling position.

The little girl wore traditional "Shiromuku" attire. The *kake*, *koshita*, belt, socks, *kaiken* (small dagger), frills, and *wataboshi* (cotton hood) were all pure white. Her right hand held a folding fan, gently resting on her open left hand.

Her posture was dignified and elegant, serene and holy.

The only flaw was that under her cotton hood, there was no head...

Wanli Fengdao stood frozen. The chorus carrying pine torches seemed completely oblivious to his presence, continuing along the road,

exuding an aura of solemn sanctity, yet also eerie and unsettling.

Behind him, the crying and screaming abruptly stopped.

Wanli Fengdao instinctively looked back and saw the source of the sound: a soft, slender humanoid figure made of what looked like rice cake, with black lines forming eyes and a mouth on its vertical face.

The thing stopped chasing Wanli Fengdao, standing in place, sobbing softly, its entire body writhing and trembling.

Then, it slowly tilted its head back until it reached an angle of distortion that its flexible neck could no longer bear.

Snap.

The rice cake man's head broke off.

"What the hell..."

Wanli Fengdao gasped. Ahead was a procession of a hundred demons, a chorus worshiping a headless girl.

Behind him was a rice cake man who had inexplicably broken his own head off.

He had absolutely no idea what was going on...

Fortunately, he didn't need to.

"Fukugami! Fukugami! Damn it, he's passed out! Increase the dosage, quick!"

An unfamiliar Japanese male voice rang in his ears.

The soul-wrenching tug came again.

Wanli Fengdao watched helplessly as he flew out of Fukugami Hirabaru's body. The next moment, he was back in the black space, sitting on the wooden chair.

Wanli Fengdao looked down at his hands, then at the dumbfounded Xing Hechou and the calm Li Ang, and stammered, "I... I'm back again?"

"Yeah."

Li Ang nodded, staring intently at the black screen in front of him, and shouted, "Miss Liu, can you hear me?"

The screen slowly lit up, like opening eyes. Liu Wudai's extremely weak voice echoed in the space, "Yes."

At that moment, Liu Wudai was sitting cross-legged in a closed room. A standing candle in the center of the room cast a dim light.

In the light, she could see three figures, two women and a man, dressed in casual clothes, sitting cross-legged like herself, seemingly talking.

Looking closely, she could see that their faces had no eyes or noses. The area above their mouths was blurred and indistinct.

"...So, I announce, the Scare Fest is now open."

Facing Liu Wudai, a girl with pigtails clasped her hands together and said, "I hope everyone in the Weird Tales Club will speak up and tell the scariest ghost stories possible, so we don't have any regrets this summer!"

"It's you who'll be regretting this, club leader."

The boy sitting to Liu Wudai's left said weakly, "A Scare Fest should be in a spooky shrine, a graveyard, or some ruins.

A boy and a girl, holding flashlights, groping forward in a creepy abandoned hospital,

The boy pretends to be brave, comforting the girl,

The girl grabs the boy's arm because of the sound of dripping water,

Sparks of youthful love flying everywhere,

That's the essence of a summer cool-down festival!

Huddling in a dormitory room telling ghost stories is so boring!"

"Shut up!"

The petite, pigtail-wearing girl, known as the club leader, scolded with a loud voice that didn't match her size. "Don't you know there are lots of bugs in the grass in summer?

You'll get lots of rashes if you go wandering around!

Okay, seeing as you're all so reluctant, I'll go first."

The girl cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and said in a sinister tone, "The name of my ghost story is 'Da, Da'."