Surviving in a School of Ghost Stories
Chapter 127

To summarize, it was the correct choice to jump from the second-floor railing.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself collapsed between the aisles on the first-floor seating. As I came to and stood up, I noticed that the audience was all staring directly at me.

When our eyes met, they slowly turned their heads away, as though they had never made eye contact with me.

The real issue, however, wasn't the audience. It was the Black Nun. She was glaring at me from the back of the audience.

Although I had escaped the second floor, I hadn't escaped the Black Nun. A chase ensued with her right behind me.

‘What about Noah-senpai and the Crown Prince? Are they alright?’

If it's Noah-senpai, he's unlikely to provoke either evil spirits or spirits, so there was no need to worry.

The Crown Prince was a little concerning, but since the Black Nun was following me, he was probably safe.

‘Yeah, right. Who's worrying about who right now?’

The audience was still seated on the first floor, desperately pretending not to see us, as though nothing was happening.

The problem, though, was with the orchestra where Leonard was.

The orchestra was still playing. Feeling a little less alone, I rushed toward them.

"Leonard!"

He was definitely playing the piano, but when I called out, he didn’t seem to notice me.

The orchestra seating was just below the stage. It was separated from the audience by a partition, so I jumped over the partition.

But despite clearly leaping from the audience section into the orchestra seats, when I regained my bearings, I found myself landing back near the audience.

I jumped over the partition again into the orchestra seats.

But again, I landed near the audience. It was only then that I realized: I was in the same location, but in a completely different space.

My mind raced with the grim realization, but I couldn’t afford to waste any more time here. The Black Nun was getting closer.

‘Right. Leonard might be in danger too. It’s better to ignore him for now.’

Reluctantly, I crouched down and moved through the aisles, trying to avoid the Black Nun’s gaze. I slipped under the chairs and hid beneath one.

The people who had shown me the escape route would likely make room for me, so I hid there.

As expected, when I crawled beneath the chair, they quietly lifted their legs, allowing me to slide through.

I lay still, holding my breath. From afar, I could hear the Black Nun searching for me.

"Human scent... human scent... human scent... human scent..."

Squeak—squeak—

I heard the eerie sound of something twisting. It was an unimaginable sound coming from her body. It almost sounded like joints contorting unnaturally.

A twisted leg appeared between the chairs.

I was hiding in the 10th row on the far-right side of the first floor, but the twisted leg appeared to be closer to the center, around the 3rd row.

The leg that was squeaking and stumbling seemed to head left, only to suddenly change direction and come toward the right, where I was hiding.

I held my breath. The opera continued. The Black Nun, searching for me, seemed almost like part of the performance.

‘Is the medium the orchestra performance? Or the opera?’

But the opera felt too abstract. So did the orchestra. Up until now, the mediums had been objects, spirits, or things with form, hadn’t they?

‘Isn’t there any other way to escape from this Black Nun? She's interrupting my search for the medium.’

I saw the Black Nun's steps slowly drawing closer.

She was standing around the 7th row now, getting closer to the 10th row where I hid. She took a few more steps. Now she was at the 8th row.

Then, the 9th row.

She was right in front of me.

Finally, the Black Nun's legs stopped right before the 10th row.

She stood there for a while, her legs frozen in place. Sweat trickled down my hands. Since I was flat on the floor beneath the chair, the only thing visible were her twisted legs. Slowly, she seemed to scan the audience in the 10th row.

The twisted leg moved a step to the side, now directly in front of the chairs.

The foot slowly turned, facing me head-on. It was as though she was directly facing me.

Please, just move on. Please.

I gritted my teeth and held my breath. My prayers seemed to have been answered, as her foot turned to the side once more.

The Black Nun finally took a step forward, moving to the 11th row. She was getting further away.

Just as I exhaled in relief, something changed.

‘...Why is it so quiet all of a sudden?’

I felt the surrounding silence. The Black Nun had disappeared, and I couldn’t see her twisted leg moving under the chairs anymore.

‘Wait. The seating is slanted. If she’s above me, it makes sense that I can’t see her.’

Reassured by this thought, I let out a sigh of relief. But then, I felt a cold presence at my feet.

I froze in place, sensing a terrible premonition.

Slowly, I lowered my head, and there, lying exactly as I was, was a woman at my feet.

Her mouth was twisted into a wide grin, blood dripping down as she stared at me with eyes that only showed black pupils.

She giggled eerily and grabbed my ankle.

"I found you."

I quickly checked the remaining holy water in the glass bottle, removed the cap, and sprayed it toward her, pressing the cross to her forehead.

Kaaaaa!

No! No!

With a scream and a shriek of pain, she thrashed in agony, giving me just enough time to escape.

I crawled out of the 10th row, and now, without any holy water left, I knew I had to find the medium quickly or I was in serious trouble.

Then, someone grabbed my wrist.

"This way!"

"Huh?"

I looked up to see a familiar face, with brown hair.

He was still wearing the Saint Gloria Private School uniform. The same boy who had saved me when I got caught in the ghost stories at the cafe before. The boy who had said he didn’t know his own name.

He grabbed my hand and led me toward somewhere.

I could see that all the spirits seated in the first-floor audience were now looking back at us.

Fortunately, the Black Nun was still writhing in pain from the holy water and cross and had not yet approached.

The boy pulled me up onto the stage, then walked toward the back.

The theater doors remained shut due to the ghost stories, but there was a gap in the curtains at the back of the stage, a possible escape route.

As I followed the boy, I couldn’t help but glance at the orchestra seats.

Leonard was still immersed in his piano performance, and the familiar-faced conductor (our music teacher) was doing the same.

I wondered {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} if the voices I vaguely heard when I jumped from the second-floor railing earlier had belonged to them.

But right now, solving the ghost story was far more pressing than finding them.

"Surprisingly, you’re still alive."

At that moment, the boy, now walking behind me, spoke.

It was dark behind the stage, but luckily, he was holding a lantern in one hand, providing some light.

"Did you see the music teacher earlier? Be careful."

He continued to lead me further into the backstage area.

I followed him quietly, but then tilted my head in confusion.

"Why the music teacher?"

"One of them is him."

"One of them? Evil spirits?"

"They’re not just evil spirits. The spirits here... they call themselves 'Shadow Apostles.'"

Shadow Apostles?

"What are they?"

"They’re beings that have taken over human bodies. All the spirits here are either killed by evil spirits or had their bodies stolen."

"So the music teacher..."

"The conductor in the orchestra? Yes. He’s not human."

I remembered how the music teacher had constantly encouraged me to take the soprano role.

If I had taken his suggestion back then, I might have gotten into even more trouble by now. The thought sent chills down my spine.