Chapter Twenty-Five: Farewell (Thank you all for your initial support T^T, Part 2 of 2)

“I… I am Zhao Weijie…”

Through the radio, Zhao Weijie’s voice came through, broken and trembling.

Liu Mengchao frowned, leaning back in his chair. At this moment, he could imagine exactly what Zhao Weijie’s state of mind must be like — even with his eyes closed.

It was fear.

Fear of death. This fear does not simply vanish; it lies buried deep within the human mind like a ticking time bomb, waiting for the slightest spark, no matter how absurd the reason, to suddenly explode.

All it takes is a trigger.

One cannot truly see the essence of fear. The real terror is conjured by the brain itself, and every action taken only serves to make this imagined dread increasingly real.

For example, after watching a horror film, the shifting shadows by the bedside slowly seep fear out of themselves without you realizing it.

The only one frightening you is yourself.

“It seems you’re about to break down, Zhao Weijie,” Liu Mengchao said expressionlessly as he stared at the prize pool before him.

Prize pool amount: 748,000.

It was still climbing rapidly.

“L-listen to me,” Zhao Weijie’s voice continued over the radio, strained and desperate. “Class 3-3… every year there’s a curse. This curse causes one person in the class to die, one after another, until graduation, then… it ends…”

His voice faltered, barely holding back tears.

“T-today, I found a tape in the abandoned teaching building…”

Before Zhao Weijie could finish, loud knocks echoed through the radio.

“The dead are among us! That extra person!”

Bang! Bang!

Again, two sharp knocks rang out. Every student in the class stared suspiciously toward the source of the sound — the radio overhead.

“Every year, someone who died the year before appears in this class! Our memories have been altered so we forget they’re already dead!”

Disbelief.

Though Zhao Weijie shouted hoarsely through the radio, doubt slowly crept onto everyone’s faces.

Liu Mengchao couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

This was the subconscious of humanity.

The more you believe in something, the more you find traces to support that belief. These fragments accumulate, reinforcing your conviction.

Just like the students now.

Each person frowned, eyeing their classmates warily.

“I… I found the tape left by a student from three years ago. He stopped the curse that year!”

Is this the so-called plot twist?

Liu Mengchao knitted his brows. Zhao Weijie had not mentioned this to the other reincarnators during their briefing, and he hadn’t noticed it either.

Was this a side story?

Liu Mengchao quickly scanned the faces of the reincarnators. As expected, they were all suppressing their anger to varying degrees — lips pursed, faces forced into expressions of surprise.

“It seems you’ve earned everyone’s wrath, Zhao Weijie.”

He looked back at the prize pool in front of him, which was rising slowly now due to the anger.

Prize pool amount: 749,000!

“Believe me, you have to believe me!” Zhao Weijie’s voice nearly broke into tears, and the knocking outside grew louder.

“Though our memories were altered, subtle clues about the dead remain. Everyone must find them!”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It seemed the teachers outside had begun to pound on the door.

“I’ll play the tape now.”

Play it? So the plot characters themselves would have to find out who the dead person was? That way, mistaken killings wouldn’t cause the main god to erase them, and the mission could be completed easily.

Liu Mengchao smiled faintly. This was indeed a clever idea. But was Zhao Weijie smart or just a fool?

“Click…”

The sound of the tape being inserted into the recorder.

At first, a burst of static, then…

“My name is Matsunaga Katsumi.”

The classroom fell silent. Heads lifted, as if dropping their defenses, listening dumbfoundedly to the voice on the radio.

The tape began with a self-introduction, then recounted two accidents that occurred on the way back from a school retreat fifteen years ago at Yeyami Mountain. After a while, the voice hesitated and began again.

“The key point is what happened afterward. After everyone made memories, upon descending the mountain, that incident occurred. That is, I…”

What next? The voice on the radio tightened like a noose around everyone’s necks, suffocating them into silence.

“…After descending, back at the lodge, I called for help amid the chaos. In fact, there was a small trap.” Matsunaga Katsumi continued.

“I can’t quite remember the cause. Like everyone else, I was shaken… So I can’t recall how it escalated… Anyway, the location was just outside the retreat, in the forest. There, I got into an argument with a male classmate. It escalated into a physical fight.”

“I’d been annoyed with him before. How to put it, he acted indifferent about everything happening in the lodge. I guess I had a short temper then — seeing him would just make me angry. He was the kind of guy who made people mad…”

Liu Mengchao couldn’t help but smirk. He had expected Matsunaga to name the boy, but at every crucial moment, the name was drowned out by static as if erased.

“Anyway, we started fighting. When I realized it, he was already motionless.”

The voice became deeper, trembling.

“While we were grappling, I must have used all my strength to push him. I can’t remember what exactly happened. He didn’t move anymore.

“He fell beside a big tree in the forest. Calling to him didn’t work. Up close, a branch had deeply pierced the back of his head, and he was bleeding.”

“I think I pushed him against the tree with such force that a branch accidentally stabbed his head. There’s no other explanation.”

“He… died.”

“No pulse. Pressing my ear to his chest, it was unmistakable. I… I killed him.”

Bang! Bang bang! The tape played on, but the pounding on the door behind Zhao Weijie grew louder, each knock driving like a wedge deep into everyone’s minds.

The recording continued.

“I was terrified and ran straight back to the lodge, fleeing. I told no one I had killed him. If the body was found, it might be treated as an accident, so I told myself.

“After that day, the rain never stopped. We stayed at the retreat. Some were taken away by family; the police came and asked questions. Even so, I never mentioned him, couldn’t mention him.

“I barely slept all night. Who would discover his body and cause such chaos? I kept thinking about it...

“But by morning, none of that happened.

“One student was missing, which everyone should have noticed, but teachers and classmates seemed oblivious or indifferent.

“I forced myself to check, despite the fear, and went to the forest where the body should have been... and then…”

The tape paused, followed by heavy breathing and static. Outside, the knocking continued like a heartbeat — bang bang, bang bang.

“Then… the body was gone. Vanished without a trace. Maybe washed away by the rain, but even the bloodstains disappeared.”

“I was terrified, confused. I asked everyone: Where is he? Did he go home?

“But everyone looked at me strangely — teachers and classmates alike. Who was he? I’d never heard of him.”

“In disbelief, I checked the list of students at the retreat — nineteen, not twenty. That means, to everyone, the person who called him didn’t exist at all from the start. How could this be?

“I almost gave up, but then I realized… the person I killed must be the ‘extra one’ mixed in this year’s class.”

At that point, the broadcast abruptly stopped. Only Zhao Weijie’s heavy breathing and the increasingly frantic pounding on the door remained.

Then came the sound of the tape rewinding rapidly.

“…so,”

The tape suddenly uttered these two words, leaving the class bewildered.

After a brief pause, the broadcast resumed.

“To preserve my memories before they fade, I recorded them to warn any future students facing the same ordeal. To tell you how to stop the curse, here is my advice…”

“Hey? You understand, you really do.”

Matsunaga’s voice strengthened at the end.

“Let the ‘dead’ return to ‘death.’ Only then will the order be restored. Understand? Let the ‘dead’ return to ‘death.’ Like I did, killing the ‘extra one’ is the only way to end this curse that has begun…”

Click.

The tape ended.

Silence fell over the classroom as if a mute button had been pressed on a movie. The students exchanged glances but no one spoke.

“Only Zhao Weijie’s voice remained on the radio, still crying out…”

“Must…”

Bang!

Another loud bang.

The teachers outside had not given up, still pounding on the door with all their might.

But this time, the voice from the radio was different.

With a loud crash, the broadcast room door was kicked open.

“Thud.”

A muffled sound followed closely.

“Ah!”

Suddenly, a woman’s terrified scream came through the radio.

Everyone in Class 3-3 was pale and silent, staring fearfully at the overhead radio, desperate to know what was happening inside the broadcast room — except for Liu Mengchao.

His system panel in front of him already revealed everything.

Reincarnator Zhao Weijie was dead.

The voice on the radio grew frantic, or rather, even more panicked.

“Quick… call an ambulance!”

“Stop the bleeding, stop the bleeding!”

“Breathing! He’s stopped breathing!”

Zhao Weijie… was dead?

Bang!

Before anyone could react, another noise came from the classroom.

Instinctively, everyone looked up at the radio, but there was only the sound of frantic shouting. Nothing else.

“It’s Takabayashi!”

Next to Liu Mengchao, Shishi Kawahara suddenly shouted.

Pale-faced, Takabayashi Yuuo collapsed to the floor, clutching his heart like a boiled lobster, trembling uncontrollably.

“Call an ambulance! Takabayashi has a heart attack!”

Someone shouted. Panic spread among everyone.

Boom!

The clear sky suddenly broke, and rain began to fall.

A heavy downpour, as if mourning, as if sending off the dead.

Heh heh heh heh, heh heh heh heh, allow me to celebrate briefly. I didn’t expect such support… I thought I’d get barely over a hundred subscribers, but now it’s tripled that. Withdraw, huā~~~

Thanks so much to all the strong supporters who’ve subscribed so far~~

And to note, today is April Fool’s Day… Even the school leaders celebrate April Fool’s Day…

I didn’t skip a single class… damn, they didn’t even take attendance.”