For this smiling homeroom teacher, the students seemed to be very afraid.

It was an indescribable fear, and I could feel the horror they felt at this homeroom teacher from the bottom of their hearts.

Fear of the homeroom teacher because the homeroom teacher can call any student to the office?

I didn't have time to think about it, so I followed all the students into the classroom.

This time, instead of going straight back to my place, I stood in the doorway and looked around at the seats in the classroom.

Most of the desks were empty, and most of them sat haphazardly, except for obedient students.

I walked straight to the last row and sat in the last row to look at the classroom, and it was even more obvious how many people were missing.

In addition to the classmates who had already sat down, there were also four people who went to take Brother Hao to the infirmary, and there were a total of twenty-one people alive in the class.

Alive? How could I have such thoughts, shouldn't I say that there are still twenty-one students taking classes here?

I always felt as if I had forgotten something, and I didn't know when a particularly weird idea would pop up.

There were 67 empty seats in the classroom, which means that there were at least 67 students in the class.

Is it because the school is too dilapidated and transferred away, or is it the same as Bu Wan, who entered the office once and then died?

I'm not sure, every school has a special record room, even if it is a bad school, there must be statistics, record how many students have been, how many students have passed, and keep the students' school records.

So, there must be an archive room here, and I'm going to check it out.

The other classes were all empty, with no half of them in sight.

According to the bald headmaster, the school was so bad that no one wanted to come to school, so much so that we were the last students.

Come to think of it, if I had known about the rotten appearance of that building, I would definitely not have thought of going to school here.

Of course, the main reason is that there are no parents, if some parents see this school building full of cracks, it is estimated that in order for their children to survive, they will not choose to enter this kind of broken school.

I banged on my head and put the textbook on the table that I had used to punch people in the head.

Looking down at the desktop, I seemed to be listening to the lecture honestly, but in fact, I was sorting out all the weirdness that I had encountered for more than half a day.

Wake up, beauties at the table, warn me never to promise to go to the office, saying that everyone who has been to the office will forget something when they come back.

When the female teacher faced the students who provoked her, not only was she not afraid, but her face was full of excitement.

When facing students, the female teacher will show hungry eyes, like a wild wolf that has not eaten for a long time, and suddenly finds food.

There is also the crumbling school building, and the big and terrifying ancient locust tree behind the teaching building.

Further back is our dormitory, not only for the students, but also for the teachers, all in that bungalow.

Then there is the back of the dormitory, the rich and pungent stench, the rotten smell that can almost smoke life to death, and the familiar smell that permeates the head teacher and the female teacher.

Why am I so familiar with that taste? There is a feeling of déjà vu.

If I'm not mistaken, I've definitely smelled this smell before, and more than once.

I already know what that smell is, but I've been rejecting the voice in my heart.

Also, the black figure nailed to the cabinet in the dormitory, the pencil that filled the wall, who nailed it in?

I once talked to Ma Zhengquan, who had been in school for the longest time, and asked about the situation in the office, and he was so frightened that he didn't even eat and just threw down his chopsticks and left.

There is also Bu Wan, who has been to the office, and I did forget something after coming out, but I don't know if I remembered it in the end.

She only left to thank you, goodbye, and then jumped straight to her death.

There is a huge suspicion here, that is, jumping from the second floor, Bu Wan was actually torn apart.

Moreover, the wounds on her body were not broken out at all, they were all left by a knife.

Her fingernails were covered with scratched sawdust, indicating that she had been tortured before she died.

The weirdest thing is Bu Wan's blood, from the time she jumped off the building to the time I came downstairs, it took less than a minute.

In such a short period of time, Bu Wan's blood actually coagulated.

This school is so weird, and everyone looks weird.

For example, Ma Zheng, who is forty years old and is still in his third year of high school, Ban Hua, who is unsuspecting of strangers, and who over there has always kept his head down and has never seen him talk.

I don't know why, but I have a strange familiarity with a man who keeps his head down.

It felt like we'd known each other for a long time, but I couldn't remember his name.

I feel the same way about Banhua, but I think it's because Banhua is beautiful, and men have a weird sense of déjà vu for every beautiful woman.

All the questions came together, and I found that this small school could be so weird.

Everywhere I looked, I felt that there was something hidden in the school, or that they were hiding something.

What the hell have I forgotten? I always feel that what I forget is something very important.

"What have I forgotten, what have I forgotten?"

I slammed it on my desk, kept asking myself what I had forgotten, and I couldn't help but start slapping myself.

Suddenly, there was a piercing pain in my left eye, and the pain went straight to my brain, almost tearing my body apart.

The pain pulled me out of the chaos, and I suddenly came to my senses, what is the difference between me and Bu Wan who died before?

We don't make any difference, it's all about remembering something, and it's all about the memories of our own past.

But, why is she and I so mad?

I once persuaded Bu Wan that I couldn't think of a way to let it go first, why did I force myself so much.

But why did I fall into this weird compulsion?

Was it because of Buwan, or because of the school?

There was a sense of anxiety surging in my heart, the irritability of losing my memory and the anxiety of retrieving my memory were intertwined, and I pulled my hair hard, as if only these pains could ease my anxious emotions.

Oops, I can't suppress it, I can't suppress it, I muttered in my heart, just the pain of pulling up my hair, I can no longer suppress my anxious mentality, and I have the urge to smash my head on the desk.

Bu Wan also used to do this, using her head as a brick and smashing her head on the table mercilessly.

No, no, I definitely can't do that, and if I do, I'll definitely fall into absolute madness like Bu Wan, and then commit suicide by jumping off the building.

Loosening my tightly clutched hair, I clenched my fists, gritted my teeth hard, straightened my back, and didn't allow my head to hit the table.

I didn't even know how hard I had used, my teeth gurgling and a faint sweet smell in my mouth.