The Deceptive Final Rule
In the end, the so-called Manual Ghost Story was nothing more than her one-sided claim that she'd left the academy once and returned. There was no evidence whatsoever to prove it. And that was only natural. Because from the very beginning, it had never left the academy—nor entered from outside.
[Name: Ghost]
[Classification: Ghost Story]
[Gift: ──]
[Features: Mimics a student remaining in the academy to seize the sanity of night duty staff and bewitch them. But its true nature is a being born from a ghost story, filled with hatred and malice toward humans. Bound by the rules of the ghost story, however, it cannot harm those who ignore it. Thus, the most effective countermeasure is to disregard the ghost's actions completely.]
It gave me the answer fast.
Moonlight couldn't even seep into the pitch-black darkness that blanketed the academy's corridors. A suffocating silence hung thick in the air. The midnight hush of the academy, devoid of any signs of life, pressed down with painful weight. Just moments ago, I'd been desperate for the music room's performance to end as quickly as possible. Now, this silence sent chills crawling down my spine.
The tense standoff didn't last long.
"I knew something felt off. Looking back, it was weird from the start—trying to talk me out of night patrol. Saying she came to help with ghost story resolution but telling me not to patrol? That never made sense."
"That's why I can't stand sharp teachers. Cackle, cackle, cackle!"
Elaine—no, the ghost mimicking Elaine—twisted into a hideous grin that the real Elaine would never show me, then charged with frivolous, piercing laughter.
"Damn it! So it comes to this!"
"Cackle, cackle! Teacher, don't run! Ohohoho!"
Thankfully, I'd put enough distance between us before exposing the ghost's true nature. I slipped away before it could grab me. I wasn't foolish enough to try trading blows with a ghost story that had a physical form. Ghost stories that charge at humans do so because they're confident they can kill an ordinary person without issue.
I dodged the cackling ghost and fled in the opposite direction. Unfortunately, it had positioned itself right on the path we'd already cleared, forcing me toward the unpatrolled corridor ahead.
But the ghost, now abandoning all pretense of being human, was terrifyingly fast. Even mustering every ounce of strength in my legs, the distance barely widened—in fact, it was closing in.
"I told you not to run! You damn brat! If I catch you, I'll chew your head to bits!"
"Like you'd actually stand there if someone told you not to run!"
At this rate, it'd catch me. No matter how optimistically I spun it, the only future I saw was getting snared before reaching the stairs at the corridor's end.
Maybe I should've played dumb and not noticed? At least then, it would've kept up the Elaine act and played along…!
Regret hit late, but it was too late now. What to do? Hide in an empty classroom? But this direction still had unpatrolled areas. Ducking into a room only to trigger a lethal anomaly would be like fleeing a wolf straight into a tiger's den. No time for leisurely talisman rituals in this mess.
Ah. Right. Talismans.
The manual said anomalies encountered during night patrol could be blocked with talismans. And this ghost barreling toward me definitely qualified as one.
Realizing that, I whipped out my duty logbook, flipped to the last page, and pulled a talisman.
Damn. When did they dwindle this low?
But this wasn't the time to hoard them.
Thwack!
The brief pause to grab it slowed me just a fraction. The ghost seized the opening and latched on.
"Got you in the end, huh? Why make it complicated if you're just gonna give up? Cackle, cackle!"
Its nails dug through my clothes without mercy. Its vise-like grip crushed my shoulder, refusing to let go.
But now I had my counter.
I spun around and slapped the talisman onto the ghost's forehead.
"I didn't get caught—I let you catch me!"
Stick!
"...Gurk! Grahk!! Gurk!!"
The ghost went rigid like stone, choking out gasps. Seizing the moment, I pried its hand off, clutched my shoulder, and collapsed.
"...Good thing the talisman worked. Nearly ended up stuck waiting for the 'real' Elaine to loop us back."
The Elaine-ghost couldn't twitch a finger, only rolling its eyes at me.
I hauled it into a nearby empty classroom and locked the door. Using up precious remaining talismans to keep it pinned hurt, but starting night patrol with this thing meant it was a necessary expense.
Still, ending it here was a relief. If I hadn't noticed, it'd have been a disaster.
After a short breather, I gripped my throbbing shoulder and stood.
"It won't peel off the talisman itself... but wasting time won't bring good luck either."
I retraced my steps down the corridor I'd fled from, footsteps echoing lonely once more. Patrol halted at the music room, so I'd resume from there, slow and steady.
The chill air in the empty hall seeped into my bones. Staring at the spot where my pursuer had vanished left an eerie stillness thicker than before.
"Down to me alone again."
Or rather, I'd always been alone. Just my illusion.
A wry smile tugged at my lips unbidden. With lantern in hand, I stepped back into the lightless dark.
The second-floor patrol proceeded without major hitches. Its anomalies were sneakier than the first floor's, but not undetectable—and with the music room's melody and ghost student events cleared, the worst was behind me.
Back to the corridor's end, up to the third floor. Finally, the halfway mark. Rules said no fifth-floor patrol, so four floors total. Two down—halfway, simply put.
Was it my imagination? The third floor's air felt stickier, more ominous than the first two combined.
No. Not imagination. Anomalies grew more threatening and malicious higher up, as expected.
Before starting, I reviewed the night patrol rules again. Unlike the handprint classroom on one or music room on two, floors three and up had no special warnings.
But I didn't relax. No warnings from three onward probably didn't mean they lacked notable threats. Quite the opposite. Classrooms like those were so riddled with routine death traps that itemizing them was pointless.
And my hunch proved right the instant I crossed the threshold.
A room disguised as an entrance that snapped shut to devour intruders. Another floored with piranha-filled tanks instead of tiles. Third-floor rooms seemed designed to kill in the most inventive ways possible.
Like the murder hotel I'd faced before—just different trap flavors, same lethality. Especially from three up, blood pools dotted not just rooms but corridors, demanding constant vigilance.
No helpful companion like on one or two, either. An ordinary person would've died four or five times over.
But I survived—and sealed the anomalies trying to kill me with talismans.
The reason? Laughably simple. My Gift.
Observation was tailor-made for spotting anomalies in this observation-reliant ghost story. The name said it all.
In hindsight, using my Gift from the start was obvious. But at patrol's outset, my mind had been foggy—like mist in my head. Bewitched for real, apparently.
Once I leaned into the Gift, soloing three wasn't hard. Patrol cleared. Only fourth left.
But even with one floor remaining, no joy—just despair.
Fear of fourth-floor threats? No. With my Gift active, anomalies were no threat.
My despair stemmed from one late realization.
The talismans were gone.
Before even starting four.
Had I wasted them somewhere? No. I'd used them sparingly, per the manual—only on clear anomalies.
Yet they were depleted. What that meant...
Yes. From the start, the talisman count fell far short of the anomalies.
"Ha... realizing this now."
I shouldn't have scolded the Elaine-ghost for sloppy mistakes. It didn't add up. The manual as survival guide? Follow it to complete patrol safely? Idiot. Me.
Ghost stories exist to kill and harm. Why would one provide a safe escape?
The night patrol rules only go up to number 11.
If the final rule you're reading is numbered 12, it means a false rule has been mixed in somewhere.
The content of the false rule changes constantly, so no one knows which number it is.
If you've read night patrol rules with a false one mixed in, good luck.
Now I got it. Which rule was false.
Given the ghost story's structure, only one candidate.
Rule 12.
Strictly follow the rules above to safely patrol up to the fourth floor, and you will complete night patrol without issue.
Remember: Adhere well to the night patrol rules, and you can return home safely.
The rule promising safe completion of patrol? That was the ghost story's lie.