Chapter 77: Haunted

People—gone.

The room containing the prison cell wasn’t locked, yet there was no sign of Cethia inside.

Not even the prison cell door was open, and it didn’t look like anyone had come out from within.

Not only that…

The lights in the room, the hallway lights—no matter how hard she searched for switches, none could be turned on.

The cell, which only had a single ventilation window, was pitch black to the point of chilling one’s bones.

“W-what is going on…?”

Though it was nighttime, a power outage made no sense.

Furthermore, all the fallen figures seen during the external scan had completely disappeared after entering the building.

Because Nyx had gone silent, the squid broom lost its flying ability, and its environment-scanning functions also failed.

Right now, Clara was utterly blind to her surroundings.

The only source of light she had was the flashlight function on her phone.

Her hands and feet were cold, a chill ran down her spine, and her pounding heartbeat thundered in her ears.

“Miss Cethia, where are you…?”

As if that wasn’t enough, the phone had no signal and very little battery left—it couldn’t be used as a flashlight for long.

So Clara retreated back to the office, leaned against the window, and tried to calm herself with the moonlight filtering in while seeing if she could send out an SOS…

Yet for some reason, the street outside was deserted—no one on foot, no passing vehicles.

Only the cold winter wind blew through the broken window she had forced open.

The eerie chill made her feel even more uneasy.

“Could this building be haunted?”

It certainly didn’t look like a legitimate company…

Just then, a burly figure burst into the office.

“Wah?! Who’s there!”

Startled, Clara grabbed the broom and swung it wildly.

But the man hurriedly closed in, trying to cover Clara’s mouth.

He was slapped across the face by the swinging squid broom repeatedly.

“Quiet, quiet!”

The man—a black man dressed in a suit—was visibly tense.

He raised his hand to block Clara’s broom while lowering his voice as much as possible.

“Don’t make a sound. It—it’s coming!”

Clara was confused; the man seemed to be hiding from something.

“It?”

“Shh!”

Clara was about to ask more, but he just motioned for silence.

At the same time, his trembling hand pulled a pistol from his suit, flicked off the safety, and nervously aimed it at the office door.

He stood with his back to Clara, staring intently at the door he had closed.

Clara could hear his heavy heartbeat…

And her own heartbeat.

What exactly was happening? Was there a monster in this building?

They had come to rescue Cethia, yet Clara couldn’t understand the situation at all.

But she was infected by the man’s tension, too scared even to breathe deeply.

“I’ve found you.”

A cold voice came from behind.

Clara stiffened and turned her head.

Outside the window hung a long, slender figure, grinning wildly.

It was vaguely a woman in white with disheveled hair…

No—was it a ghost?

The sudden jump scare left Clara so terrified she couldn’t even scream.

Her muscles spasmed; her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

“Aaaahhh!”

The black man screamed and fired several shots at the ghost.

They were so close he didn’t even need to aim properly.

The bullets shattered the glass window, passed into the ghost’s body…

Yet left no mark whatsoever.

Her heart sank.

Then…

The ghost dove forward, slashing with razor-sharp claws, gouging the man in the suit through and through.

“Waaaaaaah!!”

Clara screamed, her scalp tingling in terror.

She jolted up and rushed out of the office, broom raised, plunging into the endless darkness.

“Doj Do……”

The ghost’s slender figure dissolved like mist in the office.

“I… have come for you.”

W-what exactly was that thing?!

Fueled by adrenaline, Clara forced herself to overcome fear and run out.

But she still couldn’t explain the presence of the ghost…

No, in this world, “ghosts” did exist.

After all, magic was accepted as a matter of course; naturally, other supernatural phenomena existed too.

Even a group of heroes specialized in ghost hunting.

Was this the vengeful ghost of the woman who had died here?

But why had such a ferocious ghost crossed paths with her?

“P, p…”

Clara had no time for Cethia anymore.

She decided to leave this haunted building.

The elevator was obviously unusable during the blackout, and she was on the thirteenth floor.

Clara carefully pushed open the heavy fire exit door.

The old hinges screeched harshly—too loud in this quiet space.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem to attract the ghost.

The stairwell was pitch black without any windows.

Using the last bit of her phone’s battery to light the way, she descended the stairs, pacing downwards through the darkness…

Her footsteps echoed hollowly through the empty building.

But the stairs seemed endless.

After running down several flights, Clara shone her phone’s light downward…

Still no bottom in sight.

Looking at the current floor display…

Still thirteen.

It was a ghostly maze.

She couldn’t get out.

Facing such a terrifying supernatural phenomenon, Clara’s mind teetered on the edge of collapse.

Perhaps she should have listened to Fran’s advice?

She reluctantly left the stairwell to find another exit.

As soon as she stepped out, she saw a blood trail stretching far along the floor.

Clearly, the ghost was hunting people inside the building.

She had unwittingly stumbled into the ghost’s hunting ground…

President Cethia—why had she been abducted to a place like this?

Clara moved away from the bloodstain and slipped into a stall in the women’s restroom.

All she could do now was pray.

The dark, cramped space gave little comfort.

Her throat trembled as she hugged her thin arms, curling into a ball inside the stall.

Her body shook involuntarily.

She forced herself to stay calm, terrified any tiny noise might attract the ghost…

Until she heard a knock on the neighboring stall.

Knock knock—

“Ahh!!!”

Then came a woman’s scream…

Was there someone else hiding here besides herself?

But it didn’t last long.

Blood from the murdered woman began to seep under the partition into Clara’s stall.

Clara could only clamp her mouth shut, close her eyes, and try not to imagine what horrors were happening next door…

Then—

Knock knock—

Her own stall door was knocked.

Knock knock—

As if someone inside was still there, knocking more than once.

Terrified of being seen through the gap beneath the door, Clara crouched on the toilet clutching her broom.

She held her breath, but her heart kept pounding uncontrollably, no matter how hard she pressed on her chest.

“I’ve found you.”

…

A hollow sound came from beneath.

Then, a pale, bloodied hand shot out from under the toilet water and grabbed Clara’s ankle.

“Eek—!”