Chapter 478 - 475: Fear Cycle

Chapter 478: Chapter 475: Fear Cycle

In the face of his deskmate’s nonsense, Mo Ling said nothing. He just lowered his head and stared at the boy’s stomach.

"What are you looking at?" his deskmate asked, confused.

Mo Ling raised a hand and pointed at his deskmate’s stomach.

"It’s sprouting. The watermelon seed is sprouting in your stomach."

Hearing this, his deskmate sighed.

"Mo Ling, I know you’re upset, but this is just how society is. It’s hard to accept, but sometimes it’s the gray rules that keep human society running. You have to get used to it—HIC!"

Halfway through his sentence, the boy suddenly started hiccupping. He hastily picked up his water cup and started gulping it down. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

"Watering it will only make them grow faster. Stop drinking," Mo Ling said earnestly.

But his deskmate paid him no mind, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

GLUG, GLUG, GLUG. He finished his own cup, then stared straight at Mo Ling’s. "Let me have a sip, Mo Ling. I’m so thirsty."

Before Mo Ling could agree, his deskmate reached out and snatched the cup away.

"The roots have dug into your stomach lining. That’s why you feel thirsty. Don’t drink anymore. The watermelon vines have already grown up to your throat."

The moment the words left his mouth, his deskmate coughed violently, and a single leaf shot out of his mouth.

Upon seeing the leaf, the deskmate’s eyes flew wide open.

’Impossible. How can a watermelon seed sprout in your stomach? Isn’t that just something you tell kids to scare them?’

"You watered it too much, of course it sprouted. I saw the whole thing," Mo Ling said, leaning closer to his deskmate and pointing at his stomach.

"How did you see it?"

"I just can. And now it’s grown into your mouth."

As soon as Mo Ling finished speaking, his deskmate began to dry heave. A watermelon vine twisted its way out of his mouth and continued to grow, nonstop.

The deskmate panicked. He grabbed the vine, trying to pull the seedling out of his mouth.

"Don’t pull it, you’ll pull your internal organs out with it..."

However, his deskmate didn’t heed Mo Ling’s warning. Instead, he tugged frantically at the watermelon vine protruding from his mouth.

The more he pulled, the longer it got... and longer...

BLECH!

The watermelon’s roots, tangled around a pinkish, fleshy sac, squeezed out of the deskmate’s mouth.

"That’s your stomach. Stop pulling."

Mo Ling continued to warn him, but his deskmate couldn’t hear a thing, his pulling only growing faster.

Soon, a long, ribbon-like tube of wrinkled, bloody flesh was being dragged out along with the vine.

"Quick, stuff it back in! It’ll be fine if you stuff it back in."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh!" This time, his deskmate finally listened to Mo Ling. He began stuffing the vine he had pulled from his mouth back in, forcefully swallowing down the bloody viscera as well.

But the verdant watermelon vine had already spread throughout his body.

His eyes were already filled with green filaments, and leaves had begun to sprout from his ears.

The deskmate’s breathing grew more and more ragged. The watermelon vine had completely occupied his lungs and crawled all over his trachea, now poking out of his nostrils.

"Mo Ling, save me!"

"Okay."

Mo Ling glanced at him and made a grasping motion in the empty air. The watermelon vine’s growth came to a halt.

"Here it is." Mo Ling opened his hand. A single watermelon seed, still coated in a viscous fluid, lay in his palm.

"H-How did you do that?" The deskmate stared in shock at the seed in Mo Ling’s hand.

"I just... took it out," Mo Ling said nonchalantly, mimicking a plucking motion.

Just as his deskmate was about to ask another question, he began to cough violently. After a moment, he spat out the completely withered watermelon vine and, drained of all strength, leaned back against the wall.

"You can drink water now. The watermelon vine sucked your body dry."

His deskmate no longer dared to doubt Mo Ling. He picked up the cup beside him and began to gulp down water. GLUG, GLUG, GLUG.

Only after finishing Mo Ling’s cup as well did he gasp for breath, finally recovering.

His eyes were wide, and he was still shaken from the ordeal.

"Mo Ling, why didn’t I die, even after my insides were pulled out?"

"Because your purpose is to create fear for me, so you’re not allowed to die that easily. If you died too quickly, the effect would be poor," Mo Ling explained calmly.

"What does that mean?" the deskmate asked, dazed.

Mo Ling shook his head but didn’t answer.

"Was the watermelon good?"

"It was good," his deskmate replied, swallowing hard.

"It wasn’t actually you who tattled, was it? The teacher just had you bring the watermelon back to share with the class. You were just trying to get on my nerves."

"How did you know?" his deskmate asked, stunned.

"You told me later," Mo Ling said with a smile, patting the deskmate’s head. "You’re so cute at this age, you look like a little groundhog. It’s just that your personality is so punchable."

The deskmate, having his head patted, was at a loss for what to do.

He raised his hand, intending to push Mo Ling’s demonic claw away, but he grabbed at empty air.

When he came to his senses again, the Mo Ling in front of him had vanished without a trace.

...

’Are there any more fears?’

Mo Ling had already realized that he was likely under attack by an Activated Fear.

’When did I get hit?’

Mo Ling couldn’t quite remember. It seemed that the moment he saw that rotting head, he had already fallen into the fear.

’Can it actually attack me inside the Block? Or is it only attacking the part of my vision that extends to the outside world?’

Mo Ling felt the latter was more likely.

The attack aimed at him seemed somewhat childish and incomplete.

The fears he experienced were all trivial "childhood traumas." Under Mo Ling’s unconscious teleportation, these fears were easily broken.

By the third fear scene, his memory had been completely awakened, and the image of a "sprouting watermelon seed" failed to stir any emotion in his heart.

’The fear is weakening.’

Mo Ling discovered that his teleportation seemed to be making the Activated Fear’s influence progressively worse. Not only had the effect on his memory disappeared, but even the images of the fear had started to become somewhat blurry.

’This should be the fourth scene now. Is it still not giving up?’

At this moment, Mo Ling was lying in bed.

He planned to get out of bed to go to the toilet, but there seemed to be something under the bed.

The moment he left the bed, that thing would grab his ankle.

The feeling of fear was palpable, yet Mo Ling, whose memory had fully returned, had no reaction to it at all.

It was a very strange sensation—to be clearly afraid, yet also abnormally calm.

Feeling this fear that came from nowhere, Mo Ling actually let out a laugh.

He gripped the edge of the bed and stuck his head directly underneath it.

In the pitch-black space under the bed, messy long hair seemed to be growing. In the dim bedroom, shadows swayed, and it sounded as if something was scratching the floorboards with its fingernails, making a SCRITCHING, RUSTLING noise.

Just then, an upside-down head peered down.

Mo Ling smirked and met the gaze of the thing under the bed.