Chapter 341: Allen's Haunted House Adventure
"I'll take a shower first."
Allen flung off his black robe and headed upstairs, excitedly looking for the bathroom.
As for the exorcism stuff—no rush.
"Master, don't leave me!"
Bruce felt scared all by himself.
If not for meeting Allen, he might've really stuck to believing in science.
He nervously pulled out the pig-slaughtering knife hidden at his waist, glancing around warily as he muttered to himself for courage: "I'm not afraid of you. Show yourselves, and I'll chop you down!"
Meanwhile, the group of spirits just stood there, staring at him like he was an idiot.
None of them had even made a move, and he was already terrified out of his wits.
"With nerves like that, trying to be an exorcist? He must be seriously ill."
"No challenge at all. I'd feel embarrassed to even bother."
"Whoever takes this guy on is just staining their professional record."
"…"
Completely oblivious, Bruce didn't realize he was being silently judged by a crowd of ghosts.
It was clear from their attire that these spirits were from vastly different eras.
There were children, adults, even elderly souls.
All of them had died in the mansion. Their souls trapped here, they became earthbound spirits with no chance of release.
However, due to the unique nature of the mansion, they retained their sanity and worked together to prevent any new tenants from settling in.
Because if anyone stayed too long, they'd inevitably fall victim to the house's curse.
This led to tenants fleeing shortly after moving in, and the property value plummeted again and again—until Barry's family couldn't resist and bought it.
Of course, not all ghosts were on the same page.
For instance, the original homeowner, Bella, often stayed alone in the master bedroom, crying and paying no attention to anyone else.
Other former tenants and owners were just as indifferent—frankly, it was good enough that they didn't go around harming people.
Then there was Barry's family and his daughter's devoted admirer, Tate—this group took it upon themselves to lead the charge in scaring off newcomers.
At this moment, Allen was still upstairs, looking for the bathroom.
He pushed open a door and saw a mature blonde woman crying with her back turned. The back of her head was a bloody mess, as if she'd shot herself and blown off her skull.
Sensing someone behind her, she turned around. Her elegant face was streaked with two lines of tears.
"No one's here."
Bang!
Allen shut the door without a second thought and continued his search.
Soon after, three pale-faced boys dashed by, laughing and playing.
It was clear just how many spirits resided in this mansion.
But Allen, who was anything but normal, was absolutely thrilled—he wasn't even remotely afraid.
"A bathtub—awesome."
Finally finding the bathroom, Allen walked over to the water-filled tub and eagerly pulled off his shirt.
Sitting inside was a female ghost in a nurse uniform, staring blankly at the sudden intruder.
Hiss…
"Nice and cold. Feels great."
Still wearing his patient pants, Allen plopped right into the water.
At that moment, another nurse spirit phased through the wall. Seeing the man bathing with his pants on, she turned to her friend and said, "Linda, this guy's a fraud. He's pretending to be an exorcist. Who's going to scare him?"
"Jennifer, let me do it. After all, I died in this bathtub—I've got some control over the water."
With their plan set, Jennifer folded her arms, waiting to watch the show.
Their deaths had been absurd.
Originally tenants, they were dressed as nurses for a costume party. But before they could even leave the house, they ran into a killer and were brutally murdered at home.
Meanwhile, Allen was busy scrubbing his armpits—since he often stored things there, they had a bit of a sour smell. He took personal hygiene seriously.
"Watch me turn this bathwater into blood. Let's see if that doesn't scare you."
Linda dipped her hands into the water.
Before long, the clear water began to turn red, thickening until it looked like the tub was filled with fresh blood.
This trick had never failed.
Multiple homeowners had been so frightened, they didn't even dare bathe—some wouldn't even touch the faucet for fear it would spew blood.
Hmm…
Suddenly, Allen furrowed his brows and stared at the tub with a stiff expression.
"He noticed. He's thinking, 'Why is the water red?'"
"I bet he's about to leap out and bolt downstairs."
Pfffft…
Glub!
Linda's proud expression froze.
Jennifer's mouth twitched.
Turns out, Allen's frozen look was because he needed to fart.
Pffft pffft pfffft…
Blub blub blub!!!
A string of bubbles burst through the bloody water.
Allen, the culprit, now wore a blissful, satisfied grin and sighed lazily, "So comfortable."
"AHH—!"
Like someone had stomped her tail, Linda leapt out of the tub in a panic, stomping her feet in place and wiping herself off with disgust.
"I'm filthy! I'm dirty now! Ughhh!"
As soon as Linda left the bathtub, the water turned crystal clear again.
Allen, meanwhile, looked at the two ghost nurses with a mischievous, devilish smile.
"Can he see us?"
"No way. We're suppressing our presence—normal people shouldn't be able to see us."
Pffft…
Blub!
The two exchanged helpless glances. They didn't want to scare him anymore—just wanted to get as far away as possible. Even one more second in his presence made their skin crawl.
Linda protested, "We can't just let him go that easily."
"I've got an idea," Jennifer said suddenly. "Let's have the three little brats scare him."
These mischievous ghost kids were the rowdiest in the mansion, often running through the halls playing pranks.
They figured chasing this guy off wouldn't be too difficult.
As the two nurses phased through the wall and left, Allen's amused smirk faded, and he said coldly, "Trying to scare me? How childish."
"I'll show you what real fear looks like."
Down in the first-floor foyer…
Bruce deliberately left the front door wide open—if anything went wrong, he was ready to bolt and never come back.
Creak…
Looking up, he saw the chandelier swaying gently.
"Must be the wind. Don't scare yourself," Bruce reassured himself, tightening his grip on the pig-slaughtering knife blade.
Clang!
Metal utensils in the kitchen suddenly clattered to the floor.
How was he supposed to explain that—blown down by the wind?
Unable to delude himself any further, Bruce swallowed nervously and began inching toward the door.
Halfway there, he figured he could make a run for it—so he sprinted.
BANG!
The front door slammed shut.
Caught completely off guard, Bruce smashed face-first into it. Dazed and dizzy, his eyes rolled back and he collapsed unconscious.
"Got him."
"Appetizer's done."
"If he knows what's good for him, he'll be gone by tomorrow."
"…"
The ghosts looked down at the fainted Bruce with bored expressions.
He really couldn't handle anything. At least Barry's family took days of haunting before they started putting out ads for exorcists.
AHHH—!
A scream echoed from the second floor, making all the spirits look toward the stairs.
"Another coward. Probably wet thems
elves by now."
"My guess? They'll flee tonight."
"That'll save us the trouble."
"…"
But the situation upstairs was entirely different.
Soon came the terrified shrieks of the mischievous ghost kids—
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