Chapter 2

I was an outdoor ghost-hunting streamer, known in the industry as 'Chloe the Daring.' My haters, though, affectionately called me 'Screaming Chloe.'

As the names suggested, my livestream style was all about authenticity.

Other ghost-hunting streamers went looking for ghosts; with me, the ghosts usually found me.

Other streamers' comment sections were filled with 'Jump Scare Warning,' while mine usually read 'Protect Our Chloe!'

I couldn't help it. I was just naturally sensitive to the supernatural, with a special constitution. Growing up, I'd encountered more bizarre things than I could count.

Add to that my pathetic courage – one fright, and my screams could shatter glass. I was a literal screaming machine on legs.

Over time, thanks to this 'authentic, no-holds-barred' cowardice, I actually carved out a niche in the highly competitive streamer world, gaining a loyal following of my adoring 'troll-fans' who loved watching me get scared senseless.

To give back to my fans and hit next month's KPIs, I decided to go big or go home – livestreaming an exploration of the city's most infamous haunted location, the abandoned Blackwood Asylum.

Rumor had it, many people had died there, and the place was suffused with dark energy. Anyone who went in either lost their minds or became catatonic, and even stray dogs steered clear. It was truly the ultimate local horror legend.

As soon as the news broke, my livestream exploded.

[OMG! Chloe, are you serious?! That place is no joke!]

[My grandma said something evil is sealed in that hospital's basement; it's been cursed since it was built!]

[Can't wait! Already got my recorder ready to make Chloe's screams my new alarm!]

[Protect our Chloe! Let's crowdfund for some adult diapers for the streamer!]

Looking at the screen full of comments, I remained calm on the surface, but internally, I was freaking out.

Of course, I knew the place was creepy!

But I'd already hyped it up; I had to go whether I liked it or not.

For the sake of my life and my KPIs, I gritted my teeth and shelled out a huge sum to hire a retired special forces soldier from a company claiming to be the industry's best security firm.

His profile stated he was six foot three, a master of combat, with an iron will. He'd once fought a bear bare-handed and was nicknamed 'The Enforcer.'

Looking at the photo of the muscular guy with bulging muscles and piercing eyes, I nodded in satisfaction. With 'The Enforcer' by my side, forget ghosts, I wouldn't even be scared if a T-Rex showed up!

On the day of the livestream, I deliberately arrived half an hour early to wait for my 'Enforcer' at the hospital entrance.

When the appointed time arrived, a discreet black SUV pulled up in front of me.

The car door opened, and I rubbed my hands together excitedly, ready to greet the embodiment of my security.

Then, I froze.

The person who stepped out was a man.

He was tall, but 'muscular' was definitely not a word I'd use to describe him.

Dressed all in black, his frame was lean, and his skin was a cold white that looked like it hadn't seen sunlight in years.

He had slightly long black hair that partially obscured one eye, while the other, visible eye was incredibly dark, like a bottomless pool of cold water, carrying an unwavering gloom when he looked at someone.