It looked as though it had stepped straight out of the dreams everyone once had in their most
innocent, childish years.
In those dreams—
you'd hold hands with the girl you liked as her skirt fluttered in the wind.
You'd dive into a sea made of syrup.
You'd be swallowed by a tide of White Rabbit candies you'd eaten that morning.
And your toys would come alive to play with you.
Looking back now, maybe those were the strangest dreams of all—
and somehow, one of them had clawed its way into reality.
Beneath the cold moonlight of a sleeping campus, a Fall Guy knelt beneath a cherry tree.
The moon's glow coated his pink, round body with an eerie sheen—
as though the edges of a sweet dream had shattered into razor fragments, slicing through
reality to create a nightmare too vivid to ignore.
He was digging—an unholy gravedigger, wreathed in black resentment.
Around him, the vengeful energy sealed here for twelve long years pulsed and writhed.
Then he turned his head.
And in that instant, you knew—he had found you.
Those blank, soulless eyes locked onto yours, and from that moment forward, you were the
dreamer who couldn't wake.
Even if you were the school's beloved idol—
Even if you were the shrine maiden who fought spirits—
you could not escape that gaze.
And in those eyes lay nothing human.
Only cold, assessing judgment.
Judging what?
Whether you were worth letting live?
Kume Chinatsu had seen it too. The monster beneath the tree.
Shock upon shock piled inside her chest until she could hardly breathe.
Her hands clutched Kamikura Ringo's arm so tightly her knuckles went white, each gasp of air
a gamble that the creature might notice.
Ringo herself stood frozen.
She'd heard the stories about the Sugar Bean Man, had even watched the infamous videos
online.
But seeing it in person was—wrong.
Deeply wrong.
Like something holy and profane occupying the same space.
The air trembled.
Whoosh—
At the end of the corridor, a white shirt hung suspended midair—like an invisible man's laundry,
swaying gently in the moonlight.
It drifted past the window, the dirty stains on its fabric glinting a faint, wet crimson.
Not stains.
Blood.
The same blood that had soaked into the walls twelve years ago.
The same malevolent energy that had possessed the lab coat just minutes before.
And now it was coming down the stairs.
"Run," Kamikura Ringo hissed, low and sharp.
She understood instantly.
The real threat here wasn't the floating garment.
It was the thing in the courtyard.
She grabbed Chinatsu's wrist and bolted.
The blood-soaked shirt followed, sleeves stretching forward like ghostly arms, reaching for
them as they sprinted through the hall.
Ringo risked one glance downward through the corridor windows—
and froze.
The pink Fall Guy was standing now, head tilted up toward her.
One hand held a bone.
The other slowly, almost playfully—
raised.
And he waved.
"Wh—what!?" she gasped.
That sound—the faint, bubbly chirp that escaped him—
wasn't a growl.
It was a greeting.
He was saying hello.
A shiver stabbed up her spine. Every hair on her neck stood on end.
She didn't wait to see more. She just ran.
Down below, Doutang slowly lowered his hand.
The cartoonish form began to dissolve, glowing pink haze evaporating into the moonlight.
When it cleared, only the man remained.
He glanced at what he was holding—a leg bone.
Twelve years buried. Its color had deepened, but it was still strong—almost pulsing with energy.
A man's bone, likely. But whose? He didn't know.
If someone had been killed and buried in pieces across this campus, that might explain the
powerful spirit haunting this place.
From the shadows of the tree, Lu Zizhen stood up, camera still rolling. She'd been crouched
right in front of him the entire time, filming the "grave-digging" scene.
The girls upstairs hadn't seen her at all.
"Well, well," she said with a grin. "Looks like someone started the fight before we even hit
'record.'"
Her tone was half excitement, half irritation.
"Stealing my content, are they?"
Doutang slipped the bone into a sealed bag and zipped it into his backpack.
"Move. There's more than one spirit in this school."
He wasn't wrong.
This place was saturated with resentment.
Too much for a functioning campus.
Why would any normal school still operate on land soaked in curses?
Then again, this world hadn't made sense in a long time.
Even after a year here—even after fighting spirit after spirit—Doutang still didn't know what this
world was.
A supernatural plane?
A distorted reflection of the real one?
Or something far worse?
No time to think.
They ran for the building, taking the stairs two at a time.
Zizhen flicked her GoPro on mid-run, spinning it toward herself, mask on, grin sharp and bright.
"Hey everyone! Welcome back to Fall Guy's Paranormal Beatdown Channel!" she whispered
excitedly. "Tonight's episode takes us to a still-active school! By day—a cheerful campus. By
night—a haunted carnival of the dead!"
She swung the camera toward Doutang's bag, pulling out the sealed pouch.
"Check this out! A real bone—still loaded with spiritual energy! We're collecting fragments like
these to piece together the original spirit's form. Once we do, we'll send it to rest the
old-fashioned way—by knocking it out!"
She gasped dramatically. "And get this—it was buried inside a wall! Who does that? Talk about
amateur hour! If it were me, I'd grind the bones into—"
"Enough."
Doutang's low voice cut her off. He adjusted his pink mask, eyes narrowing as he scanned the
corridor ahead.
Two sets of frantic footsteps echoed closer—the sound of running and panic.
Zizhen's grin widened. "Time to transform?"
He didn't answer—just planted his feet.
"Ohhh right!" she laughed quietly. "You promised the fans a Kamen Rider transformation! Which
one's it gonna be? You said Kuuga was your favorite, right?"
Doutang, all tension and steel a second ago, almost smiled.
He shifted his stance, raising one hand as if holding an invisible card.
Zizhen lit up. "Ah, Decade then! Good choice! The magenta suits you—"
"It's magenta, not pink," he corrected dryly.
At that exact moment, the two girls burst from the stairwell—
and behind them, the blood-soaked shirt floated in pursuit, its sleeves stretching, forming arms,
taking shape.
And there—blocking their path—
stood the man in the pink mask.
He raised his hand.
A flick of the wrist.
A motion like sliding a card into an invisible belt.
"—Henshin!"
Light exploded.
Cherry-pink radiance flooded the corridor. The air rippled. His voice warped, twisting into that
familiar, cheerful, squeaky cry of the Fall Guy as the glow engulfed him.
When it cleared, a massive, round figure stood where the man had been.
The Fall Guy reborn.
He clenched his fists.
The soft, bean-like hands collided with a sound like thunder.
That punch could shatter stone—let alone a spirit.
Kume Chinatsu and Kamikura Ringo froze in place.
The bloodstained shirt halted mid-air.
All three stood staring at the creature of dream and nightmare—the monster that had just
shouted a hero's cry, then transformed before their eyes.
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge