Halloween Horror Nights was the ultimate thrill for those who reveled in the macabre, where ghouls and clowns alike could unleash their inner fears. The air was thick with anticipation as actors prowled the eerie scare zones, brandishing their faux weapons—machetes, shotguns, and blades that glinted ominously in the dim light.

These props were merely a part of the spectacle, a haunting experience that everyone eagerly awaited each year. As she navigated the twisted maze with her friends, their screams echoed, laughter mingling with terror as a clown performer skidded across the ground, his gear clattering, illuminating the darkness with his maniacal laughter.

Yet, for her, the fright was lost; she found the acting to be rather lackluster.

When her friends deserted her in the depths of the haunted house, the chilling sound of a billhook echoed ominously from the shadows.

She turned her head toward the noise, but the swirling smoke obscured her vision, strobe lights flashing erratically.

As she waved her hands to clear the haze, she collided with something solid, spinning around to face—

Satoru, clad in a skeleton mask that conceal showcasing sculpted muscles adorned with splatters of special effects blood. He was fully aware of his allure, especially when he sent women into a frenzy, their nervous giggles and screams.

"One down, two to go. Oh, what's this? Another just for me? How kind, too bad this blood isn't yours, sweet thing."

Dressed in dark pants, he advanced toward her with an air of menace, effortlessly embodying the role of terror as he sought to instill a shiver down her spine.