"No. 1 is very special—he's different from everyone else. He was the first student in this school." Zhou Tu's gaze swept over the other club members. "In other words, this school becoming what it is today has a lot to do with him."
"When you mentioned the Painter, I felt scared for no reason. Just those two words alone made my heart race." Zhang Ju's body was almost entirely stained red with blood, and his face looked like a melting candle—utterly terrifying.
"Fear is natural, because you must have seen him before you became a monster. You're one of his works." Zhou Tu casually let slip another secret. "Everything you experienced after entering the door was orchestrated by the Painter, except that a small accident happened along the way."
"How do you know all this? Didn't you just say you didn't know anything about the Painter?"
"Because I'm the same as you—more precisely, apart from the Painter himself, everyone else is his work!" Zhou Tu's voice carried deep dread. "You, me, Lin Sisi, Wang Yicheng, and everyone in this school—we are all the Painter's creations. From the moment we stepped through the door, we've been living inside the Painter's script."
"If what you say is true, then why did something go wrong with Zhang Ju?" Chen Ge didn't entirely believe Zhou Tu. It wasn't that he suspected Zhou Tu of lying—it was simply that there were things Zhou Tu himself didn't know, like the existence of Zhang Ya.
The one who had swallowed the West City Private Academy's door opener was Zhang Ya. So no matter what anyone else said, at least one of those fourteen paintings was absolutely not the Painter's work.
"The Painter was careless. He never expected anyone to make a different choice from his, and even less did he expect anyone to betray him right under his nose." Zhou Tu took a deep breath and twisted his neck with great difficulty, looking toward Zhang Ju. "You must have heard the name Chang Wenyu."
"Of course. She broke the pact, plucked out my left eye, and turned me into her scapegoat." Zhang Ju had a terrible impression of Chang Wenyu.
"She didn't betray you—she betrayed the Painter." Zhou Tu's voice rose, as though he were mustering his last ounce of strength to defend Chang Wenyu. "Chang Wenyu was the second person to enter this school, and the only one who successfully escaped from here!"
"What are you trying to say?"
"She showed us through her own actions that there's something else we can do besides follow the Painter's orders. The one we should obey isn't the Painter—it's the true master of this school." Blue veins bulged across Zhou Tu's neck, and his physical condition was growing worse by the moment.
Chen Ge had always been curious about who the school's master was—after all, the answer might be an existence that surpassed even a Red Dress. "Can you tell me who the true master of this school is?"
Zhou Tu gave Chen Ge a long, deep look and spoke two words: "Us."
"Us?"
"That's right. All the despair forged through bullying became the foundation of the Ghost School. Young, wandering souls entered through the door and fused into a constantly growing monster." Zhou Tu pointed at himself, then at the people around him. "We're all inside this monster's body—we are all part of it. This place holds our memories. It is both our home and our body."
Chen Ge understood what Zhou Tu was trying to say. The master of the Spirit Chanting Ghost School wasn't a single person—it referred to a collective will.
When the door opener died and no new door opener came to bear the negative emotions behind the door, the door kept drifting through similar despair. Eventually, the residual traces of that despair began to gradually take control of the door.
Chen Ge suddenly understood why the Black Phone called this place the Spirit Chanting Ghost School.
The Ghost School was originally just a scenario, but after being steeped in despair and negative emotions, the scenario itself had developed a kind of will. That was how a door unlike any other had appeared—one that could move freely.
All other doors were pushed open by the despairing, fixed in one place within the Blood-red World. Only this door actively appeared beside those who were drowning in despair.
It had become a refuge for those despairing children, a shelter for souls that had nowhere else to go. But at the same time, it had also stripped them of their lives.
"That's not right." Chen Ge suddenly spoke up. "If entering the school meant certain death, then how did Chang Wenyu manage to escape? The children who enter this school must have different choices available to them, and each choice leads to a different outcome!"
"I don't know why you suddenly said that, but you're right." Zhou Tu picked up where Chen Ge left off. "The school has its own will. Everyone who enters has their own choices, and different choices lead to different results. Some people leave the school and set off on their journey again after experiencing pain and despair. Others merge with the despair and become part of the school. Still others give up everything, forget it all, and close their eyes. There are many paths they can choose—at least, that's what I heard from Chang Wenyu."
"By that logic, this school isn't all that bad—at least not for those despairing children."
"The will that makes up the school did nothing wrong. The one at fault is the Painter. He changed the school's rules, cut off the way out, and kept everyone trapped here." Zhou Tu's voice was growing louder, but his body was becoming weaker and weaker.
"Why would the Painter do that?" Zhang Ju asked, confused.
"I don't know what he was thinking. All I know is that someone once resisted the Painter. Chang Wenyu succeeded, while I and the others failed." The skeletal Zhou Tu leaned against Zhang Ju. "Every time the oil painting studio has a problem, the Painter shows up. He'll be here soon. If you don't want to lose your memories again and become mindless, cheerful puppets, you'd better figure out a way to leave—fast."
"Can we still run in time?" Zhang Ju said pessimistically. "The one we're facing is the Painter. I'm afraid the few of us don't even qualify to be his opponents."
"It'll be fine." Zhou Tu forced a smile onto his pale face, and his thin, bony fingers reached toward Chen Ge. "Chang Wenyu has come back. I can feel a familiar scent on him."
"On me?" Chen Ge was taken aback himself. "Are you sure that's Chang Wenyu's scent? Not the scent of some other woman?"
"I'm sure." Zhou Tu didn't catch the other meaning behind Chen Ge's words and nodded with certainty.
"I've never even met Chang Wenyu—how could her scent possibly be on me?" Chen Ge waved his hand dismissively.
"Maybe you're carrying one of her belongings? Maybe you're related by blood? Or perhaps you're lovers?"
"Stop—don't go any further down that road." Chen Ge gritted his teeth. "I feel like I've just been played."
Zhou Tu didn't think the fact that Chen Ge carried Chang Wenyu's scent was a major problem. He continued to press his case. "We've all forgotten certain memories. Maybe the secret is hidden in those lost memories. Don't worry too much—my intuition has always been reliable."