Chen Zhan began to let himself go, brushing on the blackboard, swaying freely, quite in the style of a master of abstract painting.

I just heard a strange clicking sound around me.

Looking down, the metal podium was stepped out of two pits by the zombie teacher, obviously exerting a lot of strength.

The black dead air on the zombie's body burst out and rushed straight to the roof of the shed.

Godless eyes stared at the things Chen Zhan's paintings, and his mouth kept letting out a low roar.

Chen Zhan's lines are completely different from the creative styles of her previous classmates, which touches the bottom line of this zombie teacher and makes her very angry.

Chen Zhan was a little stunned.

Who knew that this ghost thing drawn was linked to the rage value of this zombie.

He quickly picked up the chalkboard eraser and erased the improvisation.

Try to recall the mess that the fat man just drawn, and try to draw the same picture as the fat man to solve the problem in front of you.

But how can I remember what I have only seen briefly, and I can't write with chalk against the blackboard.

The zombie teacher's anger couldn't be suppressed, and two withered hands grabbed Chen Zhan.

Fortunately, her feet were in the hole of the broken podium, her joints were stiff, and she couldn't pull them out for a while, and she didn't catch Chen Zhan with her hand straight.

But the zombies didn't stop.

The black corpse qi that burst out of her body turned into a black whip, like a whip for punishing bad students, and whipped towards Chen Zhan's head.

On the side, the soul attached to Xiaoyu was protected in front of Chen Zhan in time.

She also had a similar black aura attached to her, and in the face of the whip that came over, she stretched out her arms to block.

The black whip bounced off her arm, leaving no mark.

The flicked whip suddenly collapsed, unable to coalesce and form again.

Her face was as usual, as if she had no sense

Chen Zhan was heartbroken.

However, he found that although the spirit attached to Xiaoyu could not have an impact on the real world, it was very effective in slashing ghosts with kitchen knives before and now blocking whips with hands, which ordinary people could not see and touch.

Without thinking about it anymore, Chen Zhan tried to recall the fat man's painting, and the fat man's posture just now appeared in his mind, but it was not clear enough.

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration and a pattern appeared in my mind.

Close your eyelids and feel carefully, a golden line emerges in the dark sea of consciousness.

Then he stretched out his hand and drew according to the lines in his consciousness, and in the sketching, the movements of his hands were unusually smooth.

The black aura around him has plummeted, and the zombie teacher's anger is rapidly disappearing, and the moment he finishes painting, the surroundings return to calm.

Chen Zhan sighed.

It seems that what he painted is up to par.

Probably it was the ghost eye that played a role, took note of the picture drawn by the fat man, and helped himself.

Throwing down the chalk, I looked at my own mess up close, the shape is boxy, the middle part is a little blank, and the style is not quite like that painted by a fat man.

The pattern is familiar, it seems that I have seen it somewhere, and I can't remember it for a while.

The zombie teacher on the side pulled out his stuck foot, nodded, and reached out to touch Chen Zhan's forehead.

She had to make physical contact with each of her classmates after drawing.

But the hand stopped more than ten centimeters in front of his forehead, and stroked the air, as if Chen Zhan's face was there.

Chen Zhan just didn't want to be touched by this zombie teacher.

After all, zombies are corpses, ugly and dirty, and they stink of corpses, and they are estimated to not be washed clean for a few days after being touched.

The zombie teacher didn't notice anything unusual, withdrew his hand, and continued to point to the other students to come forward and draw as usual.

Return to your seat and sit down.

What had just happened reminded him of something.

He's tried his best to disguise, but he's still different from the rest of the people here.

It's as if now there is a secret that everyone knows, and only he is kept in the dark.

There must be something unusual that prevented him from knowing the truth.

The most intuitive difference is that he is still awake and everyone else is asleep.

There were zombies in front of him, and there were weird people all around, so he decided to give it a try.

Pull down your nightcap, cover your eyes, and fold your arms around your desk.

At night, it's supposed to be bedtime.

However, once the nerves are excited or nervous, it is difficult to sleep.

But Chen Zhan is different, he has lost his fear, and he has always remained calm.

He lay on his desk, relaxed, and sleepiness welled up.

After a while, he sat up, his back straight.

It's just that his eyelids are closed, and the spirit attached to the little fish is still by his side, looking curiously.

Chen Zhan opened his eyes.

He was still sitting in the classroom, the scene in front of him had not changed, but the color tone was black and white, and there were some dim embellishments in some places, like an old silent film from the last century, and like in a dim dream.

Teacher Huang on the podium had a stiff smile, his face was old but no longer a zombie, and his gray hair was tied with a headband, hanging down the back of his head.

Under the podium, the students sat neatly, and unlike just now, everyone had their eyes open, and their eyes were blank, as if they only had the teacher and the blackboard in their eyes.

In addition, Wen Ting and Qin Zhe's seats were still empty, and the other vacant seat was Zhang Shan's.

Zhang Shan lay motionless on the ground after being beaten.

What's on the chalkboard is no longer a mess.

Everything is different from what it was just now, but not much different.

The class has become a little more alive than before, and with it a little more weird and unreal.

Chen Zhan found that his ghost eye was no longer effective here, and he could no longer see the black qi and white fog and those hidden things.

At this time, the squad leader Hu Han was drawing on the blackboard.

Half of the vivid sketch is presented on the blackboard, and the scene in the painting is the current classroom, the blackboard lectern is readily available, and a boy is standing on the podium, facing the audience, his mouth wide open.

The outline of the facial features is completely realistic style, and it can be distinguished that it is Hu Han himself.

It can be seen that he paints very carefully, stroke by stroke, vividly.

Looking at the paintings on the blackboard, Chen Zhan couldn't figure it out.

The first reaction was the truth of Hu Han's paintings.

The previous Hu Han was the kind of character who only knew how to be motivated, and was saddled before and after the teacher was a teacher.

Because he is the class president, some classmates talk about him a lot behind his back, and the basic childhood messes have been cleaned up.

Chen Zhan had naturally heard of some of them, but he hadn't heard of him studying art, and he was so proficient.

Could it be that you just learned from a ghost?

Many questions were piled up in Chen Zhan's heart, and he was eager to ask.

Beside him, the fat man in black and white squirmed slightly, his eyes staring directly at the blackboard, stunned for a while, but seemed to be in a conscious state.

Chen Zhan leaned into the fat man's ear and asked tentatively:

"Fatty, what's wrong with you."

The fat man replied with a wooden expression and a mechanical voice, without a trace of emotion.

"I want to go to the toilet."

This answer was a bit unexpected, but it reminded Chen Zhan of when he was dreaming, and occasionally dreamed of looking for a toilet, which was a projection of reality in a dream.