American comics: This guy is crazy.

Chapter 344 Bruce's reputation is ruined

The second floor.

Allen pressed his ear against the door of the guest room, eavesdropping on the sounds coming from inside.

The spirits looked helplessly at the lurking mentally ill man.

Overnight, the darkest hour arrived, and Gui Sheng was severely impacted.

The permanent resident of this haunted house, a bound spirit feared by all, was humiliated last night, making it arguably the most disastrous night of his life as a ghost.

Allen's face lit up with a smile, and he didn't forget to describe himself, saying, "I feel like the cuckolded protagonist in an educational movie who comes home from get off work to find his wife cheating on him."

"..."

This description is quite cunning.

They are clearly persecutors, yet they are portrayed as victims.

At this moment, Allen took a step back, seemingly preparing to kick the door open and enter.

Of course, the undead were eagerly anticipating Bruce and Moira's interlude.

After all, Moira's reputation wasn't great; she often seduced the new male homeowner, so no one really wanted to get to know the old lady Gu hope, whose life wasn't easy.

Although she died at the young age of thirty, she is now a seventy-year-old woman who still enjoys gossiping about other people's families.

Bang!

He kicked the door open.

The first thing that came into view was Bruce and Moira entangled in bed. Upon hearing the sound of the door being broken down, they immediately pulled the blanket over their exposed bodies.

"Are you crazy?"

Bruce roared angrily, "I've put up with you for too long, don't push me to the edge."

When a good thing is ruined, anyone would be furious.

In particular, when one is brimming with confidence and self-assurance, a sudden fright can easily lead to lifelong impotence.

Allen said earnestly, "Lust, I don't want you to make mistakes."

"I told you the hell, don't call me Bruce, I'm Bruce Wayne!" Bruce corrected angrily.

"Okay, let's get started."

Allen dismissively replied, "I'm here to show you the truth."

Moira clung tightly to the blanket, pressed close to Bruce's back.

But in the eyes of Allen and the other spirits, an old woman leaning on a young man in his early twenties was nothing short of moral depravity and a distortion of humanity.

Fortunately, Bruce couldn't see the undead crowding into the guest room to watch the show.

But what happened next may be a painful memory he will never forget.

"What's the truth?"

Bruce retorted angrily, "You're a lunatic, a complete madman, I don't believe a word you say."

hold head high…

Allen responded casually, having never intended to waste any more words.

With a mere lift of his hand, a beam of white light shot out from between his fingers and landed on him.

Priest skill: Cleansing Light.

It can dispel any negative effects and grant immunity to any negative effects for five minutes.

Bruceston felt warm all over. He glanced at himself and saw that nothing had changed. He reached out and gently stroked Moira's hand, comforting her, "Don't be afraid, I'm here to protect you."

Something's not right!

Moira's hands, which should have been smooth, suddenly became wrinkled and rough.

I subconsciously turned my head to observe and was suddenly struck by a face with gray hair, loose skin, and an aged appearance. Due to the loss of collagen, the eye sockets had sunken, and the eyes were covered with a grayish-white layer, as if they had cataracts.

Who are you?

Bruce's expression froze, his mind seemingly going blank.

"Bruce, I'm Moira. You said you'd protect me for life." Moira maintained a pitiful and dependent demeanor.

"..."

After a few seconds of his brain working overtime, Bruce finally regained his senses.

"Go to hell."

He kicked his twilight lover over.

Bruce felt a wave of nausea wash over him, and the memory of their desperate kisses flooded back, sending a wave of nausea overwhelming his brain.

vomit…

I felt nauseous and dry heaved.

Unfortunately, I didn't eat anything this morning, my stomach was completely empty, and I could only vomit up a little bit of stomach acid.

At the same time, Bruce saw the bedroom filled with ghosts, all staring at him with strange looks.

Public death.

To kill someone is to destroy their spirit.

At that moment, Bruce felt completely naked and exposed to everyone.

The bad news is, he was completely naked.

Good news, the person who saw him naked wasn't human.

"Hey, loser, think positively. You didn't lose anything anyway."

Allen comforted him, "Think of it on a bright side. Others get happiness by doubling the quantity, but you at least get three times the happiness because your age has tripled."

what…

With a loud "Wah!", Bruce could no longer control his emotions and burst into tears, burying his face in his hands.

The seventy-year-old woman was older than her own grandmother.

"He's acting like a child, everyone please stop crowding around."

To save Bruce's face, Allen chased away the crowd of spirits who had come to join the fun, and didn't forget to tell Moira, "Treat him like your grandson and comfort him."

Wow……

Bruce cried even louder, pulling the blanket off to cover his entire body, trying to escape the reality that had hurt him.

We went back to the first floor.

Allen summons the spirits of the dead.

Paranormal events must be resolved eventually, but they didn't do anything too extreme, and putting them to death would be a bit too much.

Therefore, Allen intends to eradicate the problem of haunted houses.

"Who can tell us about haunted houses?"

Faced with Allen's question, the spirits exchanged glances and then nominated the reluctant Uncle Ban to explain.

In fact, none of them could give a clear explanation.

The only clue is that if you die in a haunted house, you will be trapped there forever and never be able to be reborn.

"There's something wrong with the attic."

Violet stated frankly, "We can't enter the attic. It seems there's a mysterious force preventing outsiders from entering, but living people can enter without any obstacles. You'll have to explore the specifics yourself."

"Okay, I'll go into the attic to find out."

Allen got up and headed straight for the attic, while the undead followed nervously.

To be honest, they wanted to be free, not trapped in the haunted house day after day forever.

Clearly, the attic on the third floor is usually deserted, and the escalator is covered in a layer of dust.

Standing in front of the attic door, Allen glanced back at the undead crowding the stairs, who were staring intently at him.

"Everyone, come closer. I feel more at ease with you all here at the door."

The undead resolutely shook their heads in refusal; they had already died once and were unwilling to risk their lives again.

Therefore, even if you know there are tigers in the mountains, don't go into those mountains you already know about.

"I'm the male protagonist of this book. I'm not even afraid of stupid authors, so why would I be afraid of NPCs in the book?"

With a decisive turn of the doorknob, Allen strolled into the attic.

Bang!

Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

The spirits were startled, as if struck by a heavy hammer.

"Were you scared?"

The door opened again, and Allen poked his head out with a cheeky grin, saying, "I just wanted to lighten the mood."

"..."

Sure enough, my worries were unnecessary; I should have been worried about the horrors in the attic.

The door closed again, and the spirits waited patiently for the outcome.

pat!

Allen reached for the light switch next to the door frame.

The energy-saving lamps emitted a dim light, making the isolation feel particularly oppressive.

Everywhere you look, there are old furniture and household items piled up inside, seemingly used as a storage room.

"Ohayo..."

Allen muttered to himself, "I'm a soft and sweet boy, but I wonder if any scary monsters will bully me?"

Naturally, no one responded.

Stroking his chin, Allen pondered, "It seems my aura is too strong, intimidating the demons and monsters."

"The first step in Ai's exorcism is to open the curtains."

After saying that, he walked to the window and lifted the curtains, allowing plenty of light to stream in.

At the same time, the interior layout is more clearly visible.

In short, it's nothing more than a piano covered in dust, with no need for tables and chairs.

The only thing that fits the characteristics of a horror movie is the picture frame covered with a white cloth.

Feeling restless and wanting to avoid trouble, Allen didn't hesitate to rip off the white sheet.

(End of this chapter)