Filbert opened his mouth but was at a loss for words.
I am not as bold as him. If there really are ghosts here, I might have to apply for a transfer.
As Filbert was mulling over his prospects, the faint sound of a woman sobbing sounded from a distance.
He instantly grew nervous.
“Did you hear that, Mr. Campbell? That's the ghost!”
There were no women at the site. Filbert, being the supervisor, was confident about that.
Without a word, Donald pushed open the door and went out, determined to see who it was causing trouble.
Following the noise, he arrived at where the construction materials were piled up.
Any further past that spot was the toilet of the construction site.
Following Donald's wake, Filbert suddenly pointed at the top of a pile of timber. “Look, Mr. Campbell,” he cried in a quavering voice. “Is that her?”
Gazing in the direction of Filbert's finger, there was indeed a woman with long hair and clad in a white robe seated atop the lumber.
Deathly pale, she wore a sinister smile.
Thud! The last thing Filbert remembered was his vision going dark as he swayed before falling to the ground in a dead faint.
Donald, on the other hand, remained upright and unfazed. The ghost seated atop the timber was taken aback at that.
What's up with this fellow? Didn't I exude enough War God energy?
“You got me excited, thinking ghosts exist. Turns out it's just somebody masquerading as one.”
Donald placed a cigarette between his lips and gazed nonchalantly at the “ghost.” “Are you going to get down here, or shall I make you?”
The “ghost” narrowed her eyes. “You're not afraid of me?” she asked Donald in surprise.
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