I Am The Strongest Ghost Hunter

Chapter 20

Moments after entering the real world, Raito sucked in a deep, ragged breath.

His wounds were gone—completely healed. No blood. No pain. Just smooth skin where scissors had torn through flesh and bone.

Sakura launched herself at him without warning—arms wrapping tight around his waist, face buried in his chest.

“Oh thank god you’re fine now,” she whispered, voice trembling with relief.

Raito froze.

Then—suddenly—his hands shoved her back. Hard. Like they had a mind of their own.

He blinked, horrified. “So sorry—I didn’t mean to do that.”

Sakura stumbled, but her smile never wavered. “It’s okay,” she said sweetly, eyes shining. “I’m so happy you’re alive and fine.”

Akito—already wandering the room—called out from across the space.

“Hey guys.”

Raito and Sakura turned.

Akito stood in front of a row of easels, holding up a faded canvas. More canvases leaned against the walls—dozens of them. All missing heads, limbs, eyes, noses. Just blank voids where features should be. Brushes lay scattered on the floor, bristles worn down to nubs.

“Do you think…” Akito started.

Raito finished for him, voice low. “A ghost obsessed with art. That explains everything we’ve seen so far—from the giant hand and eyes, to the pretty scary lady.”

He glanced toward the next door. “And now… who knows what’s waiting behind that one.”

Akito nodded slowly, still staring at the ruined paintings. “I don’t know. Maybe stronger monsters. Think about it—the threats are getting more powerful and smarter with each floor.”

“Uh…” Sakura’s tiny voice piped up from behind them. “What if… what if the next floor is different from everything we’ve seen so far? What if it’s… easier?”

They both looked at her.

She fidgeted with her fingers, eyes on the floor. “When we first entered the first floor… there were only limbs. Then the second floor had almost-complete drawings. So I’m thinking… maybe the third floor will be something different. Something better than the second. Something nice… and complete.”

Akito nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“That’s right, Sakura. You might actually be onto something.”

Raito stared at the next door for a long second, then let out a tired breath.

“Well… we won’t know until we enter the third floor.”

They walked toward the line—calm, but tense. Sakura stayed glued to Raito’s back, walking so close her shadow overlapped his. But for some reason, Raito kept shifting slightly away—small steps, barely noticeable, like his body was pulling on its own strings.

They crossed the line

Opened the third-floor door.

And stepped into… normal.

Too normal, bright, clean hospital corridor. Fluorescent lights humming overhead. Nurses in crisp uniforms hurrying past with clipboards. Patients in gowns shuffling between rooms. The faint smell of antiseptic and coffee. Voices murmuring behind curtains. A PA system crackling softly with names and codes.

Raito blinked hard, trying to process it.

Then pain exploded in his chest.

He clutched it tight—blood suddenly pouring between his fingers. The wounds from floor two were back—worse. Bigger. Deeper. The scissors’ path through his hand, through his heart—fresh and gaping.

He collapsed to his knees, gasping, blood pooling fast on the linoleum.

Sakura rushed forward—hands out to help.

But Raito’s body jerked away involuntarily, like something inside him refused her touch.

Akito misread it completely.

“Sakura—pressure! Put pressure on it!” he yelled, panic cracking his voice.

Sakura froze—hands hovering, eyes wide with tears.

Akito dropped beside Raito, pressing hard on the chest wound.

“Don’t worry, man—it’ll be okay. Just breathe steady. Just breathe. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Sakura stayed rooted, tears spilling silently.

‘I… I think he hates me now,’ she murmured to herself, voice so small it barely carried. ‘Everyone does. No one really cares about me. They all hate me…’

A hand reached forward—steady, male, doctor’s coat sleeve.

“Looks like you need a hand, buddy.”

Akito whipped his head around.

A man in a white coat—stethoscope around his neck, calm smile—knelt beside them.

Akito’s voice broke. “A… are we in the real world?”

The doctor chuckled softly.

“Of course you are. And don’t worry—we’re going to save your friend.”

He raised his voice.

“Over here!”

Two nurses rushed forward with a stretcher—wheels squeaking on the floor.

They lifted Raito gently, laid him down. And wheeled him away.

The doctor led Akito and Sakura down a sterile hallway to a small waiting room—white walls, uncomfortable chairs, a coffee machine humming in the corner.

“Stay here,” he said, voice calm and professional. “Feel comfortable while we treat your friend. If you need anything, just ask. I’m Doctor Harry Kane.”

“Okay,” Akito managed. “Thank you, sir.”

Doctor Kane gave a small nod and walked away, footsteps fading down the corridor.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Akito turned to Sakura, frustration boiling over.

“What is your problem?” he snapped, voice low but sharp. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sakura?”

Sakura didn’t answer. She turned to the wall, palms pressed over her face, shoulders shaking as tears slipped between her fingers.

Akito stepped closer, voice rising despite himself.

“You know he could’ve died back there, right? You know if that doctor hadn’t shown up, we’d be missing a friend right now?”

Still no words. Just quiet sobs.

Akito exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what you’re going through or who hurt you, but you have to stop whining and start acting. Only people who act make changes, Sakura. And you’re no exception.”

“I… I tried,” she finally whispered, voice cracking like thin ice. “I tried to help… but he wouldn’t let me. It’s like… he’s avoiding me.”

Akito frowned. “What do you mean he wouldn’t let you help him?”

“I don’t know…” She wiped her eyes with trembling fingers. “Anytime I tried to touch him… I couldn’t. It’s like… his body is avoiding me somehow.”

Akito stared at her, confusion mixing with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you’re not just making this up? I mean, I’ve known you for a while now, and one thing I do know is you don’t like touching people.”

Sakura flinched—turned away fast, anger flashing across her face for the first time.

Akito’s eyes widened. “Oh come on, Sakura, that’s not what I meant—”

She didn’t reply.

Instead, she walked straight to the door.

Grabbed the handle.l and Pulled, Nothing.

Pulled harder, Still nothing.

Third pull—desperate now, Locked.

She turned slowly.

Akito saw her face and froze.

She wasn’t angry anymore.

She was terrified.

“D… D… D… D…” That was all she could get out.

Then she collapsed—dropped to the floor, hugging her knees, rocking back and forth like a child locked in a dark room.

Since her words were only broken D’s, Akito took a fast step toward the door and yanked the handle.

Locked. Solid. No give.

That’s when it clicked—she was terrified of tight spaces. And now they were both trapped.

“Don’t worry,” Akito said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll get us out of here.”

He banged on the door.

“Doctor Harry Kane! Hey! We’re locked in!”

No answer.

He pounded harder.

“Doctor Kane! Anyone!”

Silence. Thick, mocking silence.

Akito spun around, eyes scanning the room—white walls, cheap chairs, the humming coffee machine. He looked for anything—a fire extinguisher, a chair to smash the handle, anything.

Then he saw it.

A small security camera mounted high in the corner—red light blinking steadily, watching them.

Below it, a wall clock.

Still stuck on 2:00 a.m.—the exact time they’d first stepped into this “hospital.”

Akito’s stomach dropped.

This wasn’t the real world.

This wasn’t normal.

This was a ghost’s obsession.

And they were inside it.