《My Psychotic Ghost Girlfriend an Isekai Experiment Gone Wrong》Chapter 142.

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Chapter 142.

The scenery behind the second door I checked was identical to the first.

Several doors later, I confirmed they were all the same. However, when I reached the twelfth door, I noticed something different reflected on the other side of the door. A black mass had appeared directly beside me. I glanced to my side and immediately understood how useful the doors were. I stepped inside one and closed it on the way in. When I looked behind me there was a long hall with the same doors as before. In front of me, further down the hallway, I saw the gooey black liquid monster originally by my side a moment ago.

I couldn’t help but think to myself that this was nothing but a giant pain in the ass. Face that godforsaken freak of nature head-on? How the hell do I do that? It was already closing the distance between us, not giving me any chance to catch my breath. I jogged down the hall as I held my phone up with the camera app open to show what was behind me. Whenever it got too close, I opened a door, stepped in, then shut it behind me to instantly increase the distance between us.

It was a futile struggle though, I already understood there was no way out of this looping world through random guesses. I was certain there had to be a method, but I just wasn’t able to put all the pieces of the puzzle together.

Wait. To start with, why was I running from this thing? Why did I automatically assume it was something that would kill me? If I have to face it head-on and it’s the only way out, would I really die if I come into contact with it?

If it’s bound to happen, then the only thing I can really do is see what happens, right?

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Either way, I’d lived more than long enough, if I died wasn’t it fine?

I didn’t have much to live for lately with the direction my everyday life had headed toward recently.

It was nothing but oddity after oddity. I only wanted normalcy and my status quo back, but strange things continually followed me wherever I went these days. If death could set me free from this shit show, why not? It was probably the result of my slight intoxication from the wine that made me so flippant over death here. God, to begin with, I’m probably just drunk now that I think about it.

I stopped in place and observed the image on my phone with my back to it as the black liquid mass approached closer on the camera. When in range, it opened up wide and surrounded me from all sides. When I was fully submerged in the black gunk, it felt like I’d been drowned in disgusting grime and filth.

With a lack of air, I drew closer to suffocation when it poured in through every one of my orifices. The black goop sought out any entry point that could bring me a painful death. Though strangely enough, albeit difficult, I could still breathe.

The biggest problem I had was how utterly repulsive it felt when it entered my body. Both in body and mind, I completely rejected everything about the strange black substance with every fiber of my being.

I wasn’t dying from it, but the sensation it brought on made me wish I really were dead. I was disgusted with not only whatever it was, but myself as well. Pure revulsion, those were the best words to describe how I felt toward whatever this sensation was.

That was when they appeared within the endless compounds of the black mass. Me. As far as the eye could see, in the limitless expanse of the darkness, there were countless spitting images of myself.

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“Who are you?” I was suddenly asked.

Who am I? Who the hell are all of you?

“““I am you.””” They all answered in unison.

I am me, stop disguising yourself as me you damn imposters.

“You are us.”

Are you saying I’m supposed to be all of you?

“““No.”””

Hah? Then what am I supposed to be?

“““You are fake, we are real.”””

What the hell do you mean you are the real ones?

“““We are not like you, but you are like us.”””

Sorry, you’re making absolutely zero sense to me. I clearly had far too much to drink.

“““You are an exception,””” they randomly spouted out.

An exception? What do you mean by that?

“““A glitch.”””

A glitch?

“““Yes. Something that should not have happened if not for a miraculous set of coincidences and countless failures.”””

What? Are you some kind of prophet telling fake fortunes? I’ll have you know, I don’t take kindly to phonies.

“You are comprised of us.”

What the bloody hell, at the beginning you said I’m not all of you. What are you suddenly backtracking and saying I’m comprised of you for?

“You are not all of us, you are only comprised of all of us, you are you. An individual, but at the same time a fake.”

I’m starting to get a headache. This is all just nonsense to me. We definitely can’t communicate or comprehend each other. I guess this is what happens when someone gets wasted.

“““You don’t need to comprehend it now, you already know the answer deep inside you and you will accept it whether you like it or not when you need to face reality.”””

After they said their part, the world suddenly dispersed into particles of rainbow-colored light. The black liquid was gone, the hallways were gone, only an endless expanse of white filled with colored particles remained.

“Fer s ch a p~n n th ss ss! Ts nt fr a ll th u cn b wt hm bt I ct!”

When I slightly cracked open my eyes, the world was spinning all about. I was groggy and very likely still hungover. I had a striking migraine, but still heard a slur of words from a voice I couldn’t quite make out whom it belonged to. Through the small gap between my squinted eyes, I saw a figure at the edge of the bed who appeared to be staring back at me intently. I couldn’t make out who it was, the only discernible feature was their reddish looking hair.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t fully wake up, the pain from the migraine was too great and I immediately fell back to sleep.

Who... was that?

That was the last thought I had before I fell back to sleep.

“Mr. Genovese. Wake up.”

“Mr. Genovese. Rise and shine.”

“Mr. Genovese! Wake your ass up!”

“...”

“Tch. If you don’t wake up now, I’ll leak your address to your exes.”

“I’m up! So please don’t.”

“If you’re up, then say that. Unless of course, you enjoy hearing the sound of my voice first thing in the morning. In that case, please feel free to go back to sleep while I whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you feel like waking up.”

“I’ve learned my lesson, so I’ll wake up.”

“You’re really not cute.”

“I’ve already had that done to me by my third ex, I’d ask that you please not bring up past traumatic memories.”

“Hahahaha! Is that true?”

“Yeah, it was really scary and often gave me nightmares.”

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