The Bride of The Mysterious Ghost King - Chapter 4

Helpless, I mustered the little strength I had left and ran toward the two police officers who were frozen still.

“Hey, hey, wake up!” I cried out in fear, patting the face of the skinny, dark-skinned policeman. He didn’t react, still wearing an expression of deep preoccupation.

I then pushed the sturdy policeman, “Hurry up and move! Save me!” No matter how much I pushed him, he was like a roly-poly toy, moving, but only swaying in place.

I was utterly hopeless! Slowly, I turned my head and found the female corpse in the No. 2 freezer staring intently at me, as if she could tear my soul to shreds the next second.

What was even more suffocating was: this thing actually started to move? She stared intently at me and slowly crawled toward me. Every time her twisted body, which looked almost broken in half, moved, it made the sound of breaking bones.

I had almost forgotten to run away, my mind a blank, my eyes somewhat hollow, watching the female corpse impatiently trying to climb out of the freezer.

“How about it? Isn’t being my wife better than wiping down living corpses?” The male ghost floated this question as I was on the brink of collapse.

His words snapped me back to reality, giving me a huge jolt. I immediately started crying and begging, “Please don’t! Please let me go, I’ll listen to you. Make her go back into the cabinet, quickly!”

Hearing my reply, the guy seemed very satisfied. With a spin of his finger, both the male corpse on the autopsy table and the female corpse that was trying to crawl out of the freezer instantly disappeared.

I finally couldn’t hold on anymore and slid down the wall to the floor.

Ghosts are inherently irrational beings.

I truly hadn’t expected him to resort to such a vicious move to force me into compliance…

After the terrifying scene just now, I only want to live now. Who would willingly want to die? I don’t have a high academic degree, but my dad instilled in me since childhood the belief that “better to live poorly than to die well.” No matter what, I must survive.

Plus, I can’t beat him. If he really killed me or even sexually assaulted me, wouldn’t that be suffering? To save my life, playing along for now should be okay, right?

Steelizing my heart, after a struggle, I compromised, “Whatever you say, goes.”

“What did I say?” He deliberately asked to make things difficult for me, a playful expression on his face.

Asking the obvious. My face flushed instantly. I’m still a virgin. Although he’s a ghost, he’s a male, and I felt like he was teasing me. At this moment, my fear and embarrassment were running neck and neck.

“Being your wife, of course…” I mumbled reluctantly.

He smiled, “Willingly?”

“Yes, I am willing, very willing.” Otherwise, what could I do? Be bitten to death by a corpse or be forced by him? Do I have a choice? He asks as if it’s a real question.

How unlucky. I should have known better than to drink. Got caught red-handed by the police and dragged here to wipe corpses. Before I even finished wiping corpses, I ran into a ghost who forcibly proposed marriage and threatened me. Why am I so unlucky?

Suddenly, I thought of something and looked at him eagerly, “But you have to take me away from here. I don’t want to wipe corpses.”

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

The aloof jerk!

Suddenly, I was caught off guard and pressed to the ground by him. It was really awkward.

Originally, I wanted to ask him how he died and what his name was, but I was afraid of angering him. So I asked him, “When are you taking me out?”

He stood up from the floor and, without a word, began to unbutton his shirt.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” I quickly scrambled up from the ground, turning my face to the side, too embarrassed to look at him.