Blessing or Curse? [R18]

Chen Ge's eyes bore into the screen with a focus that rivaled a hawk's, unblinking and fierce. The Wheel of Misfortune spun down, its clattering slowing to a crawl, until the needle juddered to a halt on a shadowed slot. A message flared to life, glowing with an ominous sheen:

"Lucky Spin complete! Congratulations, you've snared a Rare Special Item: Cursed Love Letter (Odds: 3/1000!)

Her gaze bared, cheeks pale as ash, she plummeted from the tower's edge—becoming the school's unspoken curse. In crimson slippers and a uniform stained with gore, her name dwindled to a frantic whisper. They erased her from memory… until her love letters began to find their mark anew.

First Spin Bonus: Rare Title Unlocked—The Specters' Favored.

The Specters' Favored: Equip this, and the shades might lend you their aid… if they deign to."

The words swam before Chen Ge's eyes, his mind reeling as if struck by a hex. Cursed Love Letter? Three in a thousand odds? Specters' Favored? Before he'd even wrestled the mirror's fiend into submission, another specter had latched onto him. Lucky or cursed—Merlin's beard, which is it? Regret gnawed at him—he'd jinxed himself before that fateful tap.

"Pull yourself together, Chen Ge!" he hissed inwardly. "This isn't the abyss's bottom yet—a Baleful Specter doesn't mean instant doom. There's time to twist this back." Maybe a temple's incense could purge this blight, he mused, shoving the phone into his pocket. His fingers brushed something crinkly—his breath hitched as he glimpsed a yellowed envelope peeking out, its edges frayed like a relic from a forgotten crypt.

Dread coiled in his gut as he eased it free. A single line adorned it, woven from strands of dark hair: "I like you."

"FUUUUCK!" he snarled, the curse stretching into a guttural roar—FFF-UUUUUH-KUH! "Tell me what you adore, and I'll shed it like a snake's skin this instant!" The script curled with an elegant flourish—charming, if not for its hairy weave.

There he stood in the West House, clutching the letter like a cursed talisman, muttering, "Who'd have thought my first love note would be a grim jest like this…"

"Boss! Why're you muttering like a madman in here?" Xu Wan's voice floated in, bright as a candle in the gloom, as she stepped from the Main House, props tidied.

"Just pondering," he said, voice hollow. "If a man knows his days are numbered, should he ditch worldly trinkets to sow some good in the world?" He lifted his gaze to her, her face painted in death's pallor. "Say, aiding the next generation's bloom?"

His ramble was nonsense, but Xu Wan's brow furrowed, her expression deepening as if weighing a potion's brew.

"Xiao Wan, don't tell me you're nodding to that?" Chen Ge stammered, nerves prickling. "Thanks, but I'm not primed for that leap. Though… we've toiled together ages, a fine pair. If you pressed, I wouldn't exactly refuse…" His pulse quickened, inexplicably jittery. 

"No, Boss, it's not that," she replied, pointing past him. "I'm wondering how you've got two shadows trailing you. New trick?"

"Two shadows?!" Chen Ge whirled, and there they were—two silhouettes, one broad, one slight—creeping toward him like ink spilling across a page, merging into one. "FUUUUCK!" The curse tore free again, long and venomous.

He seized Xu Wan's wrist, yanking her from the haunt's jaws into the blinding sun. Collapsing onto the steps, he offered no explanation, chest heaving as the light bathed him in fleeting reprieve.

"Boss, you've been off lately—financial strain?" Xu Wan settled beside him, concern softening her tone. "It'll sort itself. What's for lunch? I'll fetch it."

Her comfort left him grasping for words. He forced a crooked grin. "Whatever you're having. Just… ditch the makeup first—don't spook the canteen crew."

"Got it." She darted off.

Alone, Chen Ge fished out the letter again. I saw those shadows meld with my own eyes. If this specter's latched onto me, is it coiled in my shadow now? He stared at his dark twin, unblinking. The Specters' Favored might sway spirits to my side—maybe a Baleful Specter isn't pure ruin.

That's what he told himself, a thin veneer over the truth: Baleful Specters were born of anguish, steeped in malice and curses. One slip, and he'd be a corpse in a gutter.

Post-lunch, he lingered at the haunt's gate, hawking flyers. Park-goers milled about, but none dared cross the threshold.

After work, inside the haunt house.

"…If it's about ensuring lineage, I suppose it's not entirely out of the question…" Chen Ge's voice wavered, a flicker of unease sparking in his chest, as if a phantom hand brushed his nerves.

Xu Wan's lips curved into a faint smile, a ghostly beauty blooming across her pallid face—an allure not of the living, but of something otherworldly. "When I had nothing, you took me in, Boss. What's the harm in saying yes?" She glided toward him, perched on the crimson wedding bed in the shadowed chamber, her scarlet bridal gown a shroud of blood-red silk. The long sleeves and flowing skirt veiled all but her jade neck and wrists, yet each step swelled her high, firm bosom against the fabric, her lithe figure swaying like a specter in a forbidden dance. As she drew near, Chen Ge's resolve crumbled beneath that lifeless, lovely face and the devil's whisper clawing from his depths. Without a word, he seized her wrist and tumbled her onto the bed.

The fire that had blazed since glimpsing her mortuary visage roared hotter, forcing a dry swallow. "Xiao Wan, don't jest like that—this lonely hound of a boss might take it to heart."

A soft gasp escaped her, swallowed the next instant as Chen Ge's lips claimed hers with fierce dominion. Driven by a hunger he couldn't name, he drank from her tender, rose-petal mouth. When they parted, breathless, her gown lay stripped beneath her, a crimson altar to their fervor.

No bra restrained her—Chen Ge's blood surged at the sight. A sheer gauze bandeau draped her, her full breasts thrusting against it, peaks straining the fabric. No panties either—her thighs clamped tight, a scant lace scrap clinging to her core, barely veiling her secrets. There she lay, a petite figure, deathly pale and bare, her snowy peaks rising sharp and defiant against the gloom.

His hands kneaded her silken flesh, thumbs teasing her rosy buds through the gauze. Xu Wan's death-painted face shed its pallor, a flush of desire creeping up her cheeks, her eyes shimmering with a sultry haze as they locked on his.

Staring at her—ripe, irresistible—his arousal swelled, a beast straining to ravage this divine prey. Yet he reined it in; this was her first, a gift from the heavens he'd cherish. Shedding his clothes in a flurry, he peeled away her bandeau. Her breasts, even prone, defied gravity with stubborn, perfect hemispheres, their crimson tips quivering with her ragged breaths, begging to be plucked.

The chamber's grim décor—its spectral trappings—and her ashen makeup stripped her of a blushing bride's joy. Spread atop her scarlet gown, she seemed less a lover on her wedding night, more a sacrificial offering poised for consumption. Chen Ge's hands claimed her coveted mounds, their touch a marvel—soft, yielding flesh spilling between his fingers, snapping back with uncanny precision.

"Mmm… ngh… oh, Boss… harder… ah… so naughty…" Her moans spurred him on. He toyed with her, pinching her tender nipples between forefinger and thumb, drawing whimpers as she writhed, her snow-white skin glistening with a sheen of fragrant sweat.

His head dipped, burrowing into her chest, lips and tongue roving wild. Xu Wan melted beneath him, her hand shielding one plump breast pried away. Both lush orbs fell to his mercy, his mouth dancing between peaks, coaxing them to stiff, delicate blooms. Lifting his gaze, he saw her arched chin trembling, her slender neck taut with tender veins beneath a gloss of perspiration—an aphrodisiac vision. Her face, flushed pink beneath the mortuary mask, signaled the moment was ripe.

Parting her legs, he found her lace sodden with arousal. His hand pressed against it, stroking slowly, then thrust deeper as he felt her yielding seam, the lace slipping inside.

"Oh… oh… Chen Ge, ngh…" Xu Wan's core itched with need, a wriggling ache begging for more, yet maidenly shame sealed her pleas. She squirmed, hips swaying, a silent entreaty shimmering in her eyes.

He understood, smirking as he slid her panties down her glassy thighs, hoisting her jade feet to his shoulders. "Ah…!" she cried, his mouth seizing her nectar-sweet slit, tongue delving deep. Her fragrance enveloped him as he plunged into her depths, throat working to savor her flood.

"Ah… ah…" Her thighs clamped his head, hips bucking as moans broke free. "Ngh… X﹏X… no more… I'll break… oh…"

He sucked hard. "AH…!" A torrent burst forth, her climax drenching him as he drank greedily—she'd shattered into bliss.

Spent, Xu Wan lay pliant, a doll in his hands. He rose from her core, her slickness still seeping from rosy folds, sparse golden curls clinging to parted lips. Rubbing his length against her sticky entrance, he kissed her fiercely, molding her lush breasts to distract her as he eased in, inch by inch.

"So… so full… so big…" Her face burned, sensing him breach her sanctum. Amid shyness, her aroused body craved more, hollow without him.

Reason clung to Chen Ge's edges—he entered shallowly, withdrew, then pressed again, a dozen gentle cycles as she whimpered and begged. Finally, she shoved his sealing lips aside, trembling, "Come in… quick… don't tease… I… I need…" Her courage spent, she turned away, unable to meet his gaze.

He knew her limit. With a deep breath, he thrust—piercing her maiden barrier, burying himself fully. "Ngh!" She arched with a wail, emptiness replaced by a fullness that turned her cry to joy by its end.

Her passage—tight, endless—gripped him, its vigorous folds warm and wet, a velvet vise that stole his breath. He kissed her wildly, asking, "Xiao Wan, how's it feel? Pain?"

Her brows knit, body quaking with ecstasy, she shook her head, speechless. Knowing some felt no sting at first bloom, he wasted no time, rocking into her with tender rhythm.

"Mmm… mmm…" Pleasure—physical and soul-deep—swelled, overtaking him. His pace quickened, unchecked. His thick shaft pistoned her narrow haven, ridges scraping every hidden crease, drawing thick honey that stained her scarlet gown.

"Mm-ah, mm-ah…" Her cries mingled with flashes—strange memories intruding, shaken off with frantic tosses of her head. Sweat-soaked tresses plastered her snowy skin, a disheveled beauty radiating allure. Her feet hooked his waist, urging him deeper.

Entranced, Chen Ge found her ravishing—a siren stoking his primal urge. Ignoring her tender initiation, he pounded faster, hips slamming her pert rear with lewd slaps. Overwhelmed, Xu Wan surrendered wholly, his rod a conductor wielding her every emotion. She lifted her hips, easing his path deeper, strength waning.

He splayed her icy legs wide, hoisting them to his shoulders, thrusting with full might. His purpled length ravaged her jade-like core, flipping tender flesh outward, a symphony of wet squelches as nectar splashed free—an obscene tableau.

Xu Wan couldn't endure such ferocity—her wails fused into a keening song, head thrashing, body leaping like a fish on a line, breasts rippling in hypnotic waves. Chen Ge, blood boiling, targeted her core's heart, pulling back to the tip and plunging deep, each strike battering her flower, drawing sobs: "Ngh… no more… stop… please…"

Her pleas and the rod's assault on her center broke him. His spine tingled—he couldn't hold. With a final flurry—forty, fifty thrusts—he drove her to shrieking ruin, then erupted, flooding her depths. She peaked again, scalded by his heat, her body arching in a spasming release.

Her nectar, thick and warm, numbed him. Faintly, she murmured, "Mmm… don't mess the bed…"

He grinned wickedly. "More worried about the haunt's gear than your boss, eh?" Lifting her, he strode toward the changing room.

She whined, "It's everywhere—I'll be the one cleaning, you brute." His shaft lingered within her, stirring anew with each step, prodding her tender walls. "How's it hard again?" she gasped.

Chen Ge had no answer. After that torrid release, the strange hunger had ebbed—yet his body felt altered. Holding her, braced by her hips and his unyielding rod, he moved effortlessly, vigor undimmed.

She squirmed, her sensitive core assailed anew, desperate to escape this brazen act in the haunt's corridors—too raw for a maiden so recently pure. He quashed her resistance, pinning her wrists behind her, cradling her rear, licking her earlobe with a husky growl: "Where'll you flee now, Xiao Wan?"

Heat surged within her, his grinding thighs melting her resolve. Sweat-slick legs glistened with trickling honey, her protests fading to sultry moans, mind blanking under his spell.

Her drenched core welcomed him as he carried her, still joined, toward his apartment adjoining the haunt. Each step jolted her, his rod striking deep, her trembling frame helpless against the ecstasy. He kneaded her breast, pinned her wrists, and thrust relentlessly—a pose of effortless conquest.

She felt him quicken, pounding her like a mortar, coaxing wet splats that shamed her ears—why so much? This familiar path stretched eternal, her tender flower ravaged anew. His shaft stretched her lips to a translucent O, spilling nectar down her thighs.

"Ah… ah… ngh… no more… Xiaowan can't… so good… breaking again…" Her pleas dissolved into rapture. Outlasting her once, Chen Ge claimed her thrice more atop his bed, halting only as night fell—her consciousness lost to slumber after his final release.

He'd spilled thrice within her; her peaks were countless. She lay limp, quivers rippling from knees to chest, echoes of bliss lingering. Such relentless tides overwhelmed her—voice gone, mind blank, she sank into exhausted sleep.

Chen Ge paused, bathing and bedding her gently. Cradling her bare form, he toyed with her plush breast, musing, "I saw those shadows merge. Am I cursed now—does it lurk in my shade? This strangeness with Xiao Wan… is it tied to that specter?"

 Boredom gnawed until he flicked open his video app—new private messages blinked. Sifting through trolls and ads, he replied to the rest, pausing at one from He San.

The earnest lad had slipped him a note: his school's forum was ablaze. Gao Ru Xue, their course's belle, humbled by Chen Ge's haunt had sparked a vendetta—students vowing to raze it. A thread rallied a war party, swelling with eager recruits.

"Youth's fire," Chen Ge murmured, lips twitching upward. In his mind's eye, trembling teens huddled within his lair, ripe for terror.

"Once I conquer this Trial Mission, I'll unleash them on the 1-star scenario—test its bite." The thought sobered him. This mission was a singular shot—fail, and its secrets stayed locked forever. He scoured the phone, memorizing every scrap.

Know thy foe, win half the war. He dove online, hunting details on Ping An Apartments, Western Jiujiang Countryside. Initial searches yielded naught—page after page of dross—until a secondhand housing site coughed up a gem: a complaint, buried deep. The seller had veiled the truth—this flat was a haunt in truth. Beneath fresh paint lurked bloodstains; each night, rot's stench clawed the air. Posted nine months ago, unanswered, it sank beneath newer threads.

Overnight in a cursed flat, hunting a killer… tougher than I reckoned. Chen Ge, a toy designer by trade, was no sleuth or brawler. The haunt's not the hurdle—what if the murderer's my neighbor, lunging in the dark?