I Am The Strongest Ghost Hunter

Chapter 2

The bell screamed through the classroom—sharp, final, freedom.

Raito let out a slow breath, shoulders dropping.

‘Finally. My chance.’

‘I gotta get the hell outta here. Can’t keep staring at that thing in the corner.’

He snatched his bag and bolted up too fast, nearly clipping the teacher on his way to the door.

Hallway. Lockers slamming. Kids laughing. Normal chaos.

He weaved through it, head down, thoughts bitter.

‘Two years in this dump,’ he thought, ‘and I still don’t have one damn friend.’

A dry chuckle slipped out.

‘Not that I blame them. Who’d wanna hang with the quiet weirdo who jumps at shadows?’

He gripped his bag strap tighter, knuckles white.

‘Honestly? It’s better this way. quieter I stay, safer I am.’

His mind wandered, like it always did.

‘Wonder if Megumi’s okay… wherever she ended up.’

‘I’d give anything for one more minute with her.’

The memory hit hard—tightened his chest like a fist.

‘Nobody believed me. “Bear attack,” they said. Yeah, right.’

‘What the hell was that thing, anyway?’

Lost in it, he didn’t see the body in front of him until—bam.

Shoulder-to-chest collision. Solid.

Reality snapped back.

“I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, eyes on the floor, already sidestepping.

One step.

Two.

Then ice shot down his spine.

A cold hand clamped his shoulder from behind.

Breath caught. Froze.

“Come on now,” a low, amused voice drawled. “What’s the rush?”

Raito went stiff as a board.

‘It’s him.’

That voice alone made his hands shake.

He turned slow, like moving too fast would make it worse.

Ralph.

The school’s walking nightmare. Tall, built, always flanked by his two silent goons who were already smirking like they’d won something.

“Sorry,” Raito muttered, voice barely there. “I don’t want trouble.”

Ralph tilted his head, sizing Raito up like a predator playing with lunch.

“Well,” he said, voice way too deep for a high schooler, “you should’ve watched where you were going.”

He stepped closer, calm as poison.

“And now? It’s pay time.”

Whispers rippled. Phones came out. Kids formed a loose circle, hungry for drama, eyes gleaming like this was the best show of the day.

Ralph swung—fast, mean.

Raito ducked on pure instinct, stumbling backward, then bolted.

Feet pounding, breath ragged, he shoved through the crowd.

Ralph chased, laughing low, parting the sea of students like he owned the hallway.

Dead end.

Wall. Locked door. Nowhere left.

Raito skidded to a stop, chest heaving.

Ralph sauntered up, grin wide and sharp.

“Well, well. Looks like you’re out of road, little rabbit.”

“I—I’m sorry, okay?” Raito’s voice cracked, hands trembling in front of him. “It was an accident. Seriously.”

Ralph chuckled, dark and quiet.

“Who cares?” He shrugged. “You bumped me. Rules are rules. Now you pay.”

He pulled back for another swing—slow this time, deliberate, letting the fear build.

Raito threw his arms up, curling in, bracing for the hit.

Hallway went dead silent. Everyone holding their breath.

And then…

Boop.

Just a light tap on the top of his head.

Raito froze solid.

One eye cracked open.

Ralph stood there, smirking like it was all a joke.

“Geez, man,” he said, tone suddenly light, almost friendly. “You’re the most terrified person I’ve ever seen.”

He burst out laughing. “Dude, your face—seriously, wow.”

Raito stared, brain short-circuiting.

‘Huh? Did I… break him? This isn’t how Ralph works.’

Ralph reached out and ruffled Raito’s hair—rough, but weirdly playful, like an older brother messing with the runt.

“I’m not as heartless as you think,” he said, still grinning to himself. “Gotta teach lessons, you know? Otherwise people never learn.”

Ralph shoved his hands into his pockets, shot one last lazy smirk over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you around.”

Then he sauntered off, goons trailing like obedient shadows.

The hallway stayed dead quiet. The crowd just stood there, mouths half-open, brains trying to catch up. Same as Raito.

And then it hit him.

His bag. Gone.

Panic slammed into his chest like a fist.

‘No. No, no, no—’

That bag wasn’t just stuff. It was everything he had left.

He spun, sprinting back the way he came, scanning the floor.

Nothing.

‘Please tell me this isn’t happening,’ he thought, breath ragged. ‘Tell me that wasn’t the plan all along.’

Eyes darting wild.

There.

Down the hall—one of Ralph’s goons, dangling the bag from his fingers like it was trash.

Raito bolted. Legs burning, heart smashing against his ribs.

No matter how fast he pumped his arms, the distance didn’t shrink. Like running in a nightmare.

Until they stopped.

The goons slipped into an empty classroom, casual as hell.

Raito skidded in after them, lungs on fire, finally catching up.

Ralph turned slow.

This grin was different. Sharper. Hungrier.

“Well,” he said, voice low and dripping amusement. “I did say I’d see you around.”

Soft chuckle. “Didn’t think it’d be this soon.”

Raito didn’t waste breath on words.

He marched straight for the goon holding his bag.

One step across the threshold—

Everything flipped.

Air went ice-cold in a heartbeat. Lights dimmed like someone cranked the brightness down. Shadows stretched, twisted, crawled up the walls like living things.

The goons froze.

One of them bolted for the door—full sprint, shoulder first.

BAM.

He slammed into nothing. Rebounded hard, hit the floor.

Tried again.

Again.

And again.

The goon slammed into the invisible wall like a bug on glass, shoulder first, then face, then fists. Over and over.

Through the doorway, life went on—kids strolling past, laughing, chatting, headphones in, zero clue that hell was unfolding five feet away.

They couldn’t see in.

Couldn’t hear the screams starting to build.

Ralph stood calm in the center, smile stretching wider, eyes gleaming like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“What are you waiting for?” he said, voice smooth and eager. “It’s time to be free.”

Raito’s blood turned to ice.

Then he felt it—that sick, familiar chill crawling up his spine.

The same thing from the classroom.

It started materializing right there in the middle of the room.

Long, twisted fingers clawed out of thin air first, then the rest of the nightmare silhouette bled into view. Crooked limbs. Dripping blood. Blue aura pulsing thick and toxic, choking the oxygen out of the space.

Now everyone saw it.

The two goons lost it.

Screams ripped out of them—high, raw, animal. They clawed at the walls, at the barrier, at each other, nails scraping paint, faces twisted in pure desperation.

Raito hit the floor fast, curling into a ball, knees to chest, eyes squeezed shut.

‘If I ignore it…

If I stay perfectly still…

It won’t see me.’

A wet, tearing sound sliced the air.

One goon’s scream cut off mid-shriek.

Raito peeked—just a crack—and wished he hadn’t.

The thing had slashed clean through the guy’s gut. Insides spilled out in a steaming mess. The goon collapsed, dragging himself across the tiles with his hands, leaving a red trail, legs gone, still trying to crawl.

The second goon dropped to his knees, sobbing nonsense, begging for his life.

One lazy swing.

His head came off clean.

Rolled across the floor and stopped right by Raito’s feet, eyes wide open, staring.

Slowly…

the thing turned.

White, empty eyes locked straight on Raito.

No hesitation.

Claw raised high.

Came screaming down—

CLING!

Metal crashed against claw. Sparks exploded in the dark like fireworks.

Something—or someone—just stepped between Raito and death.