For Duanmu Huai, being a model wasn't anything particularly noteworthy.
The only thing worth mentioning was that when he took off his clothes and appeared in front of everyone, the female students' eyes immediately lit up, while the male students felt deeply inferior…
Well, understandable. Completely understandable.
Throughout the entire process, Duanmu Huai didn't really need to do anything.
He just struck a pose and let his mind wander until the time was up.
As for what those students ended up drawing…
Well.
Duanmu Huai felt that question should be directed to them instead.
Overall, the whole process was quite relaxing.
After the class ended, Duanmu Huai's relationship with the students improved quite a bit.
Of course, he also explained his identity to them and handed out a large stack of business cards.
That was actually the real reason Duanmu Huai came to Miskatonic University.
After all, compared to other places, the students and professors at Miskatonic had a much higher probability of courting death.
Which meant it was easier to get commissions.
Professor Osborn was also very satisfied with this class and hoped that Duanmu Huai would come often in the future.
In response, Duanmu Huai said he would consider it.
Once a week would be about right.
After all, he still had his main job to do.
It wasn't like he could come here every day.
Professor Osborn seemed a little disappointed by this answer, but he expressed his understanding.
After spending an afternoon at Miskatonic University, Duanmu Huai returned to his office.
He ate dinner, watched some television for a while, and then went to bed.
After all…
Everything existed in dreams.
And Duanmu Huai's efforts had already begun producing results in certain places.
For Mark Lane, this was a painful night.
Just like now.
Under the torrential rain, he was curled up inside a dilapidated shack, gripping a pistol tightly in his hand.
His precise marksmanship allowed him to shoot out the eyes of any enemy who dared rush into the room, even under such terrible conditions.
But the bone-deep fear still made him tremble uncontrollably.
Mark Lane was a veteran.
He had fought through life and death countless times on the battlefield.
But none of that had defeated him.
Because for Mark Lane, what he truly wanted was simple.
To survive the war.
To go home.
To reunite with his beloved wife.
Soon enough, his wish came true.
After earning distinguished merit on the battlefield, Mark chose to return home.
At the time, he believed his dream had finally come true.
He could go back to his house and live an ordinary, warm life with his wife.
But reality was not like that.
Mark Lane would never forget that afternoon.
He had planned to surprise his wife by secretly returning home.
But the moment he approached the house, he heard his wife screaming.
When he rushed into the bedroom, the scene before him became something he could never forget.
His wife lay on the bed.
Her entire body was violently torn open from the inside.
Then—
A strange, horrifying creature crawled out from within her body.
It looked at him and revealed a twisted, evil smile.
Then it smashed through the window and disappeared.
Afterward, Mark called the police.
But the investigation yielded no results.
The police believed Mark's wife had most likely been murdered.
As for the creature Mark described—something that crawled out of her body—
The police naturally didn't believe him.
They thought it was simply a hallucination caused by post-war trauma in a retired soldier.
But Mark refused to accept that conclusion.
He was certain he hadn't hallucinated.
If the police wouldn't help, then he would investigate himself.
As an excellent veteran, Mark was highly skilled in reconnaissance and tracking.
It didn't take long before he discovered that his wife had been connected to a mysterious underground church.
Although he couldn't fully understand the chaotic things written in her diary, once he ignored the parts filled with fear and panic, Mark managed to piece together the story.
About a year ago, his wife had been targeted by members of this mysterious church.
From that point on, she constantly felt like she was being followed.
Her nerves became extremely strained.
She had called the police several times, but nothing came of it.
At the time, she had believed that once Mark returned, everything would be fine.
But the result…
Mark naturally had no intention of letting those people go.
After discovering the address of the mysterious church, he went there directly with a gun.
For Mark, there was only one thing he needed to do now.
Revenge for his wife.
But what Mark never expected was that this underground church was far more than just an illegal religious group.
They actually summoned horrifying monsters he had never even imagined!
When faced with enemies that couldn't be killed by bullets, Mark decisively chose to retreat.
But through that encounter, he finally understood something.
This mysterious church was far more dangerous than he had imagined.
Yet instead of backing down, Mark became even more convinced that his wife had truly been killed by those damned cultists.
And since that was the case—
He would never let those murderers go.
Nor the twisted abominations they worshipped.
Mark had no intention of letting the mysterious church go.
And they had no intention of letting him go either.
In fact, since then, Mark had already survived several assassination attempts.
Fortunately, in this area, Mark was the professional.
So up until now, the cultists had failed.
But even Mark himself didn't know how long he could continue holding out.
What he feared wasn't the people.
It was the monsters.
He didn't know what those disgusting creatures actually were.
But it was obvious they weren't something he could handle with bullets or explosives.
Even worse, ever since that day, Mark had been plagued by nightmares.
He could feel his mind gradually deteriorating.
Every time he closed his eyes, he sensed a terrifying presence.
As if some indescribable monster lurked in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to kill him.
"Haa…"
Leaning against the wall, Mark tightened his grip on the pistol and slowly exhaled.
He was currently staying at a roadside motel in the wilderness.
At least he was certain the cultists hadn't followed him here.
But that didn't make him relax his guard.
After all, those cultists could use all kinds of strange spells.
He had seen it with his own eyes.
He had experienced it personally.
In short, when dealing with such things, it was best to remain cautious.
Thinking of this, Mark casually picked up a newspaper from the table and flipped it open to pass the time.
Of course, his attention wasn't really on the newspaper.
While flipping through the pages, he carefully listened for sounds in the corridor and outside the window.
But just then, when he casually turned to the second page—
He noticed a strange symbol.
It was a symbol of a warhammer crossed with a skull.
Below it was a line of bold text.
"Occult Detective Agency—Solving Your Troubles!"
What kind of nonsense was this?
Looking at the advertisement, Mark frowned.
In fact, after discovering that those cultists truly possessed something like magic, Mark had tried many different channels to counter their power.
But those churches were all frauds.
They were completely powerless against the cultists' magic.
And the gods they worshipped couldn't do a damn thing.
So when Mark saw this advertisement, his first instinct was to dismiss it as some charlatan's promotion.
He tossed the newspaper aside.
Then he gradually drifted into sleep.
For Mark, dreaming had become a torment.
Every night, when he closed his eyes and fell asleep, he returned to that day.
He returned home to surprise his wife.
But the moment he opened the door, he heard her screaming upstairs.
Mark dropped his luggage and rushed to the second floor.
Then he saw how his wife struggled in agony as she died.
And that monster crawled out of her body again.
It smiled at him with that evil, twisted grin.
Then disappeared.
And he would stare at his wife's distorted, tragic face—
Before waking from the nightmare.
What drove Mark to despair the most was that he couldn't change anything.
In the dream, he was like a third party trapped inside his own body.
Unable to struggle.
Unable to refuse.
His body acted like a robot following a predetermined script.
Repeating the same actions again and again.
Tonight was no different.
"NOOOOOOO—!!!!"
Watching his wife die painfully once again, Mark screamed.
He watched as the monster crawled out of her body again, grinning at him with smug, twisted malice.
It seemed to mock his helplessness.
To toy with his fear.
At that moment, the fury deep inside Mark's heart finally erupted.
At the same time—
He suddenly felt a burning pain on the back of his hand.
In the next instant, the body he had lost control of suddenly returned to his command!
"I'LL KILL YOU!!!"
Mark roared and lunged forward.
He grabbed the monster tightly and seized its neck.
The creature clearly hadn't expected Mark to fight back.
Its eyes widened as it frantically slashed with its claws, trying to escape.
But no matter how it struggled, Mark refused to let go.
In this dream, he had repeated this moment hundreds, thousands of times.
This time—
He could finally take revenge!
"GAAA—!!!"
With a final choking cry, the monster's neck was snapped by Mark's hands.
Its body went limp.
Then Mark watched as the small creature's corpse in his hand began to disintegrate.
Like something being burned, it turned into drifting ashes and vanished into the air.
At the same time, the room around him began to dissolve.
At that moment, Mark finally broke down.
Holding his wife's body on the bed, he burst into tears.
"——!!!"
When Mark opened his eyes again, it was morning.
His eyes were swollen and red, tears streaming down his face.
But what he felt now was an overwhelming sense of relief.
He raised his hand to wipe away the tears.
But suddenly—
Mark noticed something on the back of his hand.
He froze.
On the back of his hand was a symbol.
A warhammer crossed with a skull.
Like a tattoo.
This was…
Mark stared at the symbol.
He remembered clearly.
Last night his hand had burned with pain.
And it was right after that moment that he broke free from the invisible restraints and escaped the nightmare.
And this symbol…
Right!
Suddenly remembering something, Mark hurriedly grabbed the newspaper and compared it.
Yes.
It was exactly the same symbol as the one in the advertisement.
What was going on?
Staring at the symbol in the newspaper, Mark thought for a moment.
Then he stood up.
No matter what—
It seemed he had to take a trip to Arkham.
(End of Chapter)