Chapter 1310: Chapter 1310

"The merchant's daughter and the noble girl are next to act. Since they aren't Enchanters, nor are they sailors accustomed to gruesome sights, their minds are under extreme duress. For this battle, add ten to any value they roll."

Corpse Gentleman announced, speaking before Jenkins or Mr. Hood could chime in. Jenkins couldn't even be bothered anymore to track how many points had been added to the characters he and Mr. Hood were controlling.

He glanced at the figures still locked in a standoff on the game board and stated:

"The noble girl is terrified, so she falls back and hides behind the writer, Williams."

"The merchant's daughter does the same."

Mr. Hood, understanding Jenkins's strategy, quickly chimed in.

"Very well, but there's no need for a roll then. Be aware, because they took this evasive action, your characters cannot perform any other moves—including treating their friends—until they are directly attacked."

Corpse Gentleman nodded, then turned to Hathaway.

Corpse Gentleman replied simply.

"In that case, if I act first, will you deliberately target me?"

Hathaway had spotted a loophole.

"But for your character to act first means they're initiating the attack, not reacting to one. That's in the rulebook; you must have missed it."

He explained, then gestured for Hathaway to take the dice.

Hathaway's eyes remained fixed on the small metal sheet in her hand. After a long moment, she spoke:

"Jenkins Williams prepares for battle. He uses..."

A wave of tension passed over the players at the table. Given the situation, combat ability was paramount.

"He uses his special ability: Prayer."

As Hathaway announced this, the other three players—everyone but Jenkins—looked puzzled. Prayer itself had no offensive power. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on novęlfire.net

But Hathaway, who had read all the ability descriptions, had made her decision. She rolled a 33. Jenkins's Prayer skill was at 72.

Corpse Gentleman picked up the two dice from the table and announced the outcome:

"The evil spirit uses Fear Aura."

The figurines locked in their standoff on the board immediately sprang to life. The sailor dropped to one knee and began to pray. The viscount lifted her skirts and flung a shower of glittering, salt-like particles at the evil spirit standing at the head of the stairs. The two young women stumbled back in a panic, while the writer advanced, cane in one hand, gesturing with the other.

A sickly green light flared around the evil spirit as it, too, moved toward the group. It ignored the praying sailor, sidestepped the viscount's spirit-warding powder, and finally crashed head-on into Jenkins.

A faint golden light flared for an instant, and the evil spirit vanished. The wooden figurines all crowded around Jenkins's character, as if in celebration.

"What... what just happened?"

Mr. Hood asked, astonished.

"I don't know. The ability description only says that... that Williams's prayer has a special power."

Hathaway shook her head, then turned her gaze sharply to Corpse Gentleman.

"Perhaps you can explain."

"I am not familiar with the characters you're controlling. It appears your friend has many secrets."

Jenkins felt a surge of relief at that. He knew it was impossible for every single one of his secrets to be crammed onto that little metal sheet.

"Despite the encounter with the evil spirit, the presence of a supernatural practitioner in the group meant they suffered no major losses. They proceeded up the stairs and, in a second-floor broom closet, found the source of the haunting: the skeletal remains of a woman. So, what do you do now?"

Corpse Gentleman inquired as he moved the figurines to the second floor. The writer and the sailor now stood blocking the entrance to the broom closet, while the three women behind them surveyed the dilapidated hallway with interest.

Mr. White Cat declared.

"The sailor's unique past has given him some skill in examining corpses, but you still need to roll... Ah, a rather good roll. After a careful look, the sailor determines that the woman died thirteen years ago. The remains are too badly damaged to pinpoint a cause of death, but he is certain of one thing: bones that black are anything but natural."

"The writer uses Mysticism."

Hathaway followed up immediately. For reasons unknown to the other players, Jenkins's Mysticism skill was an impressive 92.

"The writer examines the remains from the perspective of mysticism and determines they contain a powerful curse. Now that you've destroyed the evil spirit, that curse is about to escape from the bones. You have a choice: do nothing, and allow the curse to seep back into the hospital and afflict all five adventurers; or use the fire from your lanterns to burn the skeleton, preventing the curse from being unleashed upon you."

"Good thing the writer has such superb mystical skills. If we hadn't identified that, we would've been in real trouble."

Mr. White Cat remarked.

Unsurprisingly, everyone agreed to burn the remains. With flammable materials like old bedsheets readily available in the hospital and the adventurers' lanterns for a flame, there was no need to roll for fire.

On the tabletop scene, a brilliant red light soon bathed the wooden figurines of the five adventurers and the cat. The players around the table could almost hear a mournful wail as the skeleton, which looked as if it were forged from black iron, vanished.

"The adventurers decisively burned the evil spirit's remains, expelling the curse from the hospital. Next, they..."

"Pardon me, what do you mean? Expelled from the hospital?"

Jenkins frowned as he sat at the table, rudely interrupting Corpse Gentleman.

"You made your decision. By burning the remains, you released the curse immediately. Therefore, the curse was expelled. It's that simple."

Corpse Gentleman answered, looking into Jenkins's eyes.

"So what does being 'expelled from the hospital' actually mean?"

Mr. Hood echoed, catching on to the ominous wording.

"The literal meaning. Which is..."

Corpse Gentleman stood, walked around the table to the wall beside the fireplace, and then flung open the curtains, which had previously only been parted by a sliver.

It was barely ten in the morning, yet heavy black clouds had plunged Nolan City into a terrifying, night-like darkness. A furious wind howled through every street. Black lightning tore through the sky, and from the heavens, they could faintly hear the wailing of a woman.

It hadn't been when the game began. Then, the world outside the window had been a peaceful and quiet Friday morning.

The entire city seemed to have fallen into a deep slumber; not a single soul could be seen on the streets below. The city was cursed. Every player at the round table understood this now.