The bloodstains in the hallway made Qin Nuo unfortable. To avoid entering that monster, he chose to walk in the opposite dire.

  The entire campus was shrouded in a thick bck fog, severely obstrug visibility to less than two meters.

  Fear stems from the unknown.

  Walking in su enviro was like a blind person groping along a wall, moving in the dark. No one knew what kind of terrifying thing might emerge from the bck fog in front of them the sed.

  This was areme test of one's heart and ce.

  Qin Nuo was no exception, but he had the Blood-Eyed Ghost, which could sehe surge of Ghost Aura from teers away, allowing him to foresee danger, which made him feel much more at ease.

  "Looking for a piece of dy in such a dim enviro feels utterly absurd."

  Walking along the corridor of the plex building, Qin Nuo muttered to himself while gng at the es of the s he passed.

  He couldn't remember which floor he was on or where in the corridor he was. He just searched wherever he went.

  "After the bck fog covered the school, the s and corridors seemed to have ged signifitly. They felt more dipidated, med."

  Qin Nuo observed the moss-cracked railings, with weeds growing through the cracks.

  Ihe , the chairs and desks seemed almost weathered into wood dust.

  He didn't know if it was an illusion, but he always felt that those seats had shifted, as if something had left them.

  From the podium, there was a faint sound of chalk tapping on the bckboard...

  Qin Nuo paused, sidering whether to take a look inside, when suddenly he heard some sounds near his ear.

  "A child's voice?"

  The sound was very close. Qin Nuo followed the sourd soon arrived at the door of a .

  The windows were sealed, and the door was closed.

  Ihere were occasional sounds of terror, followed by some unknown horrific tearing noises.

  Creak!

  The wooden door suddenly opened a crack, and a woman's voice came from inside: "Student, are you looking for dy?"

  "e in, and you get the dy you want."

  Qin Nuo was taken aback.

  An adult's voice, a teacher?

  Wasn't the teacher a cat, responsible for handing out dy?

  "Go in and take a look, don't worry, I'm here," said the Blood-Eyed Ghost.

  Sihe Blood-Eyed Ghost said so, Qin Nuo naturally couldn't back down. He pushed the door open aered.

  The momeepped into the room, his vision cleared, and the appearance of the was revealed before him.

  It was an art studio, with vases ly arranged, and several students sitting at their desks.

  They were focused on their painting, not even gng away when Qin ered, their eyes stantly switg between the vas and the model on the podium.

  But upon closer iion, their eyes were bloodshot, their faces stiff, and beads of sweat as rge as beans were seeping from their foreheads, as if they were under immense pressure and fear.

  On the floor, there were several pools of rotten flesh, emitting a foul stench that was suffog.

  On the podium, the model being painted was a man as dry as a stick, with sunken eye sockets and protruding cheekbones, like a dying addict, ready to colpse at any moment.

  Beside the podium, there was a wicker chair that moved on its own without wind.

  But Qin Nuo clearly felt a presence of Ghost Aura there.

  "An Invisible Ghost," Qin Nuo immediately identified. This type of ghost was mysterious and terrifying, and as long as it didn't reveal itself, it was hard to gauge its strength.

  "Don't worry, the teacher isn't a cat, just responsible fiving out dy."

  "The vas is a sacred object. It present a person's infinite inner world of imagination, and it also show the true beauty of all things in the world."

  "The teacher likes students who paint well, especially those who paint excellently. Good painting is rewarded with dy, bad paintis a little punishment."

  A voice with the tone of a dy came from the podium.

  "Even bad paintis punishment, how is that different from a cat?"

  Qin Nuo looked at the rotten flesh and blood on the ground and shook his head.

  Is this the so-called little punishment?

  Qin Nuo gnced back, and the door was already tightly closed, like a trap waiting for someoo fall into.

  Qin Nuo looked at the students painting, each of them sweating profusely, their expressions teheir hands trembling as they held their sketg pencils.

  They were all trying their hardest to paint that emaciated man.

  Clearly, these students were pyers, unlike Qin Nuo, they probably stumbled in by act.

  And onside this art studio, it seemed they had to plete their painting and gain the approval of the invisible teacher on the podium to leave the .

  At this moment, as the clo the wall ticked away.

  The swaying wicker chair on the podium suddenly stopped.

  "Student number 8, your time is up."

  When the voice came down, it was like a death sentence.

  The pyer sitting i number 8, however, was unusually calm, turning his vas around with a posed expression.

  On the vas, the emaciated man was curled up in a er, vividly and expressively painted, veyiions of loneliness, fear, aion.

  It was even more vivid and expressive than the real person!

  This pyer appeared fident, calmly saying, "Teacher, I hope my dy won't be less."

  The previous pyers had paierribly, even abstractly to the point of absurdity, and colpsed halfway through, trying to forcibly leave the .

  Strangely, the moment they left their seats, their bodies seemed to be cut, with dense blood lines appearing all over their skin.

  As soon as they took a step, their bodies fell apart like pos, scattering on the ground, tless pieces of flesh emitti, blood flowing out, staining the vas red.

  The remaining pyers' pupils tracted sharply.

  This was definitely a ghost above the Horror Level!

  In that instant, they all uood.

  They had fallen into a trap.

  Either paint or die!

  There was no other choice.

  The other two pyers who were killed were because their paintings were unsatisfactory, and they were brutally killed as well.

  For pyers without painting talent, this was no different from waiting for death.

  But now, the pyer who turhe vas happeo be a well-known painter in the real world, someone who could bring a pin vase or an ordinary person to life with his brush, giving them another yer of meaning, making them more profound and unfettable.

  To ensure his work was fwless, he pleted the painting in ten minutes and spent twenty minutes correg imperfes.

  At this moment, as he turhe vas, the pyer also showed a hint of nervousness, but his eyes were bright, fixed on the dies on the podium.

  A chill swept over him, and he khe female teacher had e down.

  Then, a handprint clearly appeared on his vas.

  The fingers were slender, gently sliding as if caressing and appreciating.

  "Very well painted."

  "Loneliness, fear, fi, desotion... you've vividly captured everything that should be seen. You are an excellent student."

  The simple evaluation made the pyer breathe a sigh of relief, but the words made his face stiffen again.

  "However, what you painted is not what I wanted."

  "You 't see his heart at all, only what is visible on the surface. It's too naive."

  The female teacher's voice carried disappoi and a strange sadness.

  The pyer frowned, ret in a deep voice, "Surface? The eyes are the windows to the soul. In his eyes, there's not even a glimmer of light. This is a man who has experienced despair, withdrawn to the extreme."

  "This is his inner world, which I have perfectly presented with a sketg pencil, yet you say it's superficial. What reason do you have to question my work?"

  The pyer's voice was filled with anger, as if his artwork was being trampled by others.

  At this moment, he didn't even care about pying the role of a student, but argued fiercely as a renowned and respected painter.

  The art studio fell silent.

  The other party seemed to be at a loss for words.

  The pyer snorted coldly, feeling he had won the argument.

  But the sed, a woman's reply came from the air: "It's simple, because he is my husband."

  Immediately, a pierg scream echoed i studio!

  JOSOLUNA