Li Mo didn't respond to Kira. Without a word, he turned and walked towards the black coffin behind him.
The second death had stripped Li Mo of almost all "human" emotions. He couldn't joke anymore, nor could he show the rich expressions that once adorned his face.
No matter how hard he tried to control his facial muscles, he couldn't manage it. He could barely perceive any emotional changes within himself now.
Fear, joy, sorrow, relief... all of it had vanished from his emotional sense.
What remained was an endless, primal instinct guiding him, telling him what he should do.
A strange, anomalous nature was encroaching on him, trying to transform him into one of its own.
His chest felt hollow, as if something essential was missing. Yet, neither his organs, memory, nor consciousness showed any signs of being tampered with—except for that elusive, intangible material 'soul'.
Li Mo placed a hand over his heart. His heartbeat was slow, his body temperature unnaturally cold.
Oddly enough, in this state, free from emotional interference, his thoughts became sharper and faster.
Li Mo approached the funeral portrait without hesitation. He bit his finger, allowing fresh blood to drip onto the blank surface of the tablet.
Gradually, the blank memorial tablet began to form an image. A human head.
The head's face was grotesque, constantly contorting and warping. As the blood was absorbed into the tablet, the image eventually stabilized, taking on Li Mo's image.
It was a black-and-white portrait—far from normal. The face was pale as death, the eyes faded and lifeless.
"What is he doing?"
Kira watched, bewildered. Still, she knew Li Mo wasn't the type to do anything meaningless.
Perhaps he'd found a way to break through this predicament. But...
Why did he seem like a completely different person?
Since earlier, Kira had felt something off about him.
It was the height of summer, yet standing near Li Mo felt like standing by a riverbank, chilled by ghostly winds.
Li Mo closed his eyes, entering a meditative state. As the portrait absorbed his blood, he began organizing the clues he'd gathered so far.
"The notebook offers a path of survival. But this path must hide traps that my current state cannot overcome," he muttered to himself.
"The ghost in the broadcasting room could be dealt with, but only because I threatened the notebook for information. The notebook doesn't want to give me free advantages.
"As for the desperate situation in the auditorium, my past self, having died only once, couldn't survive it. That's why it so readily offered information, leading me to bring everyone to the auditorium.
"There should be more than one escape route in this school. The auditorium can protect those inside, but only if the funeral ritual proceeds as it should. Without the proper ritual steps, this place isn't much safer than the outside."
He paused, reflecting deeply.
"It's waiting for me to die. That means, unless absolutely necessary, I must not open the notebook again. I can't risk dying another time. The 'anomaly' abilities are already affecting my consciousness. One more death, and I might not return to who I am now."
Li Mo stared at his blood-drained palm, murmuring in a calm, emotionless voice, "I can still think clearly. I'm not tired."
"I am still Li Mo."
With this confirmation, he turned his attention to the task at hand.
The head ghost would arrive in three minutes. There was no longer a need to use a coin to delay it; the portrait now bore an image.
Day One of the funeral ritual: The Encoffining.
Earlier, the coffin lid couldn't be lifted because there had been no body inside. Without a body, how could the coffin be sealed?
Similarly, the funeral portrait couldn't manifest a body in the coffin without an image to act as a medium.
The portrait served as the bridge. With the image in place, the corpse in the coffin, once existing only in the void, could now manifest in reality.
And only with the body present could the coffin lid be lifted to continue the encoffining ritual.
"You…"
Kira rushed to Li Mo, her pupils shrinking in disbelief.
The blank portrait now bore an image—his image.
"You're hiding something!"
Unable to suppress her alarm, Kira shouted. The other team members quickly raised their weapons, pointing them at Li Mo.
Shaori Heyou stepped forward, ready to speak, but Li Mo interrupted her.
"The incense suppresses the ghostly killing intent," Li Mo said coldly, as if the raised weapons didn't exist. "The burning incense in the auditorium masks us from the ghosts' perception."
One of the team members questioned him: "But isn't the incense burning now? And yet, the severed heads are swarming at the door. Doesn't that prove the incense can't suppress them?"
Li Mo's reply was calm and measured.
"Because everything hinges on one condition: the funeral ritual must proceed as intended."
"This is a Shenzhou-style funeral. The arrangement here clearly indicates the first day's ritual: The Encoffining."
The open coffin. The funeral portrait lacking an image.
With these elements combined, the reasoning was simple.
Li Mo approached the coffin, gripping the lid with one hand. What appeared impossibly heavy was lifted with ease, as though as light as a feather.
He placed the lid over the coffin, leaving a small gap at the top.
Immediately, the burning incense calmed, no longer flaring violently.
The trembling ground grew still. The countless heads outside the auditorium collapsed lifelessly to the ground, no longer moving.
But Li Mo knew this was merely temporary. The heads were not truly dead.
The incense still burned. The auditorium merely hid them from the ghosts' senses. Once the first stick of incense burned out, the heads would rise again, repeating the tragedy of the previous timeline.
"Stopped…? It stopped?"
Kira rushed to the auditorium doors, staring in disbelief at the sea of heads.
Moments ago, they had been relentless. Now, they lay still.
"They're only dormant," Li Mo explained. "The ghosts haven't left."
"I'd advise against going outside. The auditorium is safe, but the world beyond is not. You've seen it yourself—after seven o'clock at night, it's almost impossible for any living person to remain in the academy."
"So, if we encounter survivors, our first reaction should be to kill them."
Kira's eyes widened. "Isn't that too extreme? What if they're genuine survivors?"
"Maybe," Li Mo replied. "But I won't gamble everyone's lives on 'What if' or 'luck.' If you can't do it, I will."
"I don't mind being judged after this is over. But for now, don't stand in my way, no matter what I do."
His words were cold, devoid of emotion, yet utterly firm.
Li Mo picked up the incense and placed the short, burning stick at the auditorium's entrance, extending the group's safe space. Despite its appearance, the incense burned indefinitely, tied to the encoffining ritual.
Kira lowered her sword.
She understood. Li Mo wasn't wrong. In such dire circumstances, most "survivors" were likely no longer human.
Still, she had her principles. If the situation arose, she'd make her own decisions.
"I understand." Kira stepped to Li Mo's side, like a subordinate.
She realized his perspective. As their leader, every choice he made had to prioritize the team over personal desires.
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