Chapter 342: Allen
Upstairs, on the second floor.
The three bratty ghost children pushed open the bathroom door—and instantly froze in place.
What they saw was Allen flipped over on all fours, his limbs contorted and twisted unnaturally. His entire face was upside down, staring back at them with a rigid, grotesque grin and eyes rolled completely white.
"Geh geh geh…"
At that moment, strange sounds gurgled from Allen's mouth as he tilted his head and looked straight at the ghost children.
"G-G-GHOST!!"
The three brats, who'd only ever scared others and had never encountered true horror before—especially since they died too young to have ever watched a horror movie—were now experiencing a full-on dimensional-level terror.
Allen's warped and surreal form was like a nightmare from another plane of existence.
The ghost kids shrieked in terror and bolted in all directions, but Allen chased after them relentlessly, letting out a spine-chilling "geh geh geh" the whole way.
"Hehehe… ssllrp… Come play with me… ssllrp… hehehe…"
Speaking while crawling on all fours with his head hanging low made it easy for drool to drip out of his mouth.
So Allen kept slurping it back in—but in the ears of the ghost children, it sounded like some monster eagerly drooling before devouring them.
A door opened. Linda poked her head out, confused by the fleeing children—only to turn and see Allen, still in that contorted pose, staring up at her.
Bang!
The door slammed shut.
Back pressed to the door, Linda gasped for breath as if she'd just seen something terrifying.
"What is it? What could possibly scare a ghost like you?"
Jennifer, unconvinced, opened the door—only to come face-to-face with Allen, limbs twisted backward, white eyes staring directly at her.
Bang!
She slammed the door shut too.
Chest heaving, Jennifer muttered with lingering fear, "What the hell is that thing… Could it be… a demon?"
It was just like the stories—twisted body, no visible pupils. Classic signs of demonic possession.
"I-I don't know… I just want to get out of this cursed house," Linda whimpered tearfully.
Too bad for them—they were earthbound spirits, trapped on the haunted property, unable to step even a toe beyond the yard.
The moment they tried, they'd reappear inside the house.
They'd all tried countless times to escape, only to fail. That's why so many of them had ended up gathering here over time.
"Uncle Ban! There's a monster upstairs!"
The three ghost children dashed downstairs, hiding behind the middle-aged man Ban.
His wife Vivian asked in confusion, "What kind of monster?"
They'd lived here for so long and had never seen anything other than ghosts. Without a doubt, this was a fake exorcist.
Their daughter, Violet, chimed in, "Should we show ourselves and deal with him? He doesn't seem easy to handle."
After all, Allen had resolved the circuit breaker issue the moment he stepped in. Clearly, he wasn't just some ordinary guy.
"Looks like I'll have to bring out the leather suit. Can't scare him otherwise," Ban muttered.
With that, Uncle Ban zipped up his jacket, revealing a form-fitting black leather bodysuit underneath.
Vivian gave Tate a strange look.
Back when their family moved in, Tate had shown up in a black leather suit and had… an unspeakable encounter with Vivian.
At the time, she thought it was her husband Ban. Later, she realized it had been someone else.
The problem? Tate was in love with their daughter, Violet.
A veritable soap opera.
"Bruce, what happened to you?"
Allen, now back to normal, descended the stairs and spotted Bruce lying at the entrance. He deliberately acted like he couldn't see any of the ghosts around him.
The game was just getting started.
Exposing them this early would ruin the fun.
"Why can't he see us?"
"I've already released my spiritual aura. There's no reason he shouldn't!"
"Could he be naturally immune to the supernatural?"
"…?"
The three ghost kids kept insisting he could see them, but none of the adults paid attention to children's ramblings.
Meanwhile, outside the house, the wind picked up.
There had already been wind and thunder earlier—it looked like a downpour was on the way.
"Everyone, shut the windows tight! Don't give him a chance to escape during the chaos!" Uncle Ban barked out commands, getting the ghosts to secure every door and window.
He worried that Allen was only pretending not to see them in hopes of slipping away from the haunted house unnoticed.
If they couldn't scare him into pissing himself, it would be a disgrace to ghostkind.
Snap—
The house went dark.
While the ghosts were busy checking the doors and windows, Allen had pulled the circuit breaker—having secretly pocketed the ceramic handle from the brass fuse earlier.
"What just happened?!"
In the pitch-black house, the ghosts couldn't see a thing either.
Truth be told, their abilities weren't as exaggerated as in horror movies. Aside from walking through walls and turning invisible, they were basically just like normal people.
"Uncle Ban! He's transforming!"
The three ghost kids clung to Uncle Ban's leg, trembling in terror.
Boom!
A bolt of lightning tore across the night sky.
For a brief moment, the house was lit up.
"He's on the dining table!"
Violet caught a fleeting glimpse of a twisted figure crouched atop the table—like a humanoid spider watching them through the intermittent flashes of lightning.
"Geh geh geh…"
That eerie sound echoed again throughout the house.
Now, none of the ghosts were sure who was scaring whom.
Frankly, Allen looked even more terrifying than them.
"G-g-g…"
Allen perfectly matched the mood, mimicking the voice-over from a horror movie trailer, mixing in unsettling bubble-gurgling sounds.
"Someone turn the power back on!"
"I can't see him anywhere!"
"Everyone stick together—don't separate!"
"…"
The tables had turned.
Allen could see perfectly in the dark, while the ghosts huddled together in fear.
Quicksilver's counterpart, Tate, fumbled in the dark and found a wooden mop. He figured its non-conductive handle might help flip the circuit breaker back on.
And just like that—under cover of darkness—Allen made his move.
His target: the one and only Violet.
Ahh!
A sharp, startled scream rang out—half frightened, half bashful.
In her panic, Violet suddenly felt something slip between her legs.
No doubt about it.
It was the move Allen had long dreamed of but never had a chance to use.
A technique reserved only for girls.
…
For the first time, he encountered a girl who reacted just right.
Click—
The lights came back on.
Only then did the ghosts finally see what had happened.
Violet was straddling the fake exorcist, face buried in her hands.
"Let her go!"
Tate was livid at the sight.
The girl he'd been too respectful to touch—now defiled by another man.
"You bastard… Come catch me if you can, simp," Allen taunted gleefully, racing up the stairs.
Was this horror or humiliation?
Violet, still the "victim," kept her face covered in shame, her entire body flushed with embarrassment—and exhilaration.
Tate grabbed the mop and gave chase, vowing to rescue his goddess.
Allen was loving it, crawling on all fours like a blur, even while carrying someone.
"Don't worry, sweetie—Daddy's coming!" Uncle Ban finally snapped out of it and rushed upstairs to save his daughter.
"Everyone, we need to work together! We can't let this guy do as he pleases!" Vivian shouted, rallying the other ghosts.
But the rest just exchanged nervous glances and stayed put, clearly unwilling to provoke Allen.
A normal person wouldn't stay calm after seeing a ghost.
A normal person wouldn't go around in a hospital gown.
A normal person wouldn't get excited by supernatural activity.
Clearly, Allen wasn't normal.
And these ghosts had no idea how to deal with someone abnormal.
Meanwhile, poor Bruce—who'd passed out on the floor—had been the only one to react like a normal person. One scare and he was down for the count.
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