Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 100

In the game’s livestream room—

More and more viewers were flooding into An Zhi’s team’s stream. A few were drawn to Ji Yu’s side for its increasingly perilous developments, but the majority still chose to watch An Zhi and Sheng Qingye.

It was clear that these two had stepped firmly onto the game’s main storyline.

Most viewers were already aware of the latest updates about Brother Feng—that this NPC was supposed to be the “path to survival” mentioned in the game, the powerful figure responsible for rescuing both players and other NPCs.

Judging by how things were unfolding, once he returned to Wenhe University, the game would probably be nearing its end.

With that mindset—“everything will be resolved once he comes back”—the viewers couldn’t help but cling to a sliver of hope. They silently wished for the players to hang on just a little longer… until their savior descended like a heavenly warrior, saving everyone from fire and death.

So when they saw those words written by the Pen Fairy—“Don’t trust Brother Feng”—scrolling across the white paper, they couldn’t accept it.

【Is this for real? Is the Pen Fairy lying? Brother Feng’s obviously that kind of heroic NPC! Why would it try to sow discord?】

 【Exactly! The rules for the Pen Fairy game didn’t say the spirit couldn’t lie—so this has to be a trick. Don’t fall for it, An jie!】

 【But… if you look at the game’s descriptions, it did say anyone or any ghost could lie. So what makes us so sure Brother Feng is trustworthy?】

【Come on, it’s obvious. The NPCs have been doing reckless stuff this whole time and nothing’s happened— Brother Feng must be secretly protecting them!】

Even the viewers, who weren’t actually in the game, struggled to accept this twist—let alone the players who were experiencing the terror firsthand.

Room 414, girls’ dormitory.

Everyone stared in shock at the pen that had suddenly snapped in half.

This was Ah Yuan’s prized fountain pen! What kind of force could break it like that?

And the ink in it had always been black. Why, then, was the last line written in bright red?

There were too many questions flooding the minds of the two poor NPCs. Their entire worldview was collapsing, and they were so stunned they could barely think.

A moment later, a piercing phone ringtone rang out—right as the flashlight in the room flickered.

“Ah!” Zhang Wen clutched her head and let out a short scream, as if she couldn’t take it anymore. Then she quickly covered her mouth and trembled, afraid of attracting whatever might be lurking in the dark.

Ah Yuan, clearly no longer calm, spoke in a shaky voice, 

“Who messed with my pen? Seriously, if you were planning to do something, couldn’t you have told me first?”

An Zhi took a deep breath. She knew it was useless to let the NPCs keep fooling themselves any longer—it was better they understood just how dangerous things really were. So she said firmly, 

“No one had time to ‘mess with’ anything. You all know it. We’ve just encountered… them.”

Zhang Wen leapt to her feet in shock, grabbed the flashlight from the table, and started sweeping the beam around the room nervously, as if searching for something sinister lurking in the shadows.

As the light passed over the space, An Zhi noticed with surprise that the man in the baseball cap had vanished once the phone rang. The room had returned to normal. Even the double-braided girl now looked pale and frightened again, as if she were just another scared, ordinary person.

But An Zhi wasn’t fooled.

No matter what she looked like on the surface, that girl—the one with the double braids—was definitely the ghost hiding among the five of them!

The more An Zhi thought about it, the clearer it became. She could remember the names of the other two NPC girls—but no matter how hard she tried, she could never recall the name of the double braided girl.

Of course, that didn’t necessarily prove Ah Yuan or Zhang Wen were definitely human either…

Just thinking about these NPCs—whether they were people or ghosts—gave An Zhi a massive headache.

If she knew a bit more about ancient Earth culture, she might fully understand the meaning of the phrase “paranoia”—which perfectly described her current mental state.

No one in the room spoke.

But Ah Yuan’s phone kept ringing, its shrill tone making everyone even more tense and irritated.

“Maybe… you should answer it?” Zhang Wen whispered.

“Uh… o-okay.” Ah Yuan swallowed hard. She clearly didn’t want to pick up. After all, with the way things were going, who knew what might be on the other end of the line?

She glanced at the screen, then gave the others a complicated expression.

“…It’s Brother Feng.”

Then, taking a deep breath—and wearing an expression like she was marching to her doom—she pressed the answer button.

“H-Hello, Brother Feng…” Her voice clearly wavered, influenced by the Pen Fairy’s warning.

But the voice on the other end didn’t seem to notice. Brother Feng sounded rushed, out of breath, like he was running as he spoke.

“I just cast a divination. You’re in danger—there are at least two ghosts beside you!”

“Don’t trust the people around you… zzzzk… they’re lying… hide separately… hold on a little longer, I’ll be there soon… zzzzk—”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The call was cut off.

Ah Yuan immediately tried to call back—only to stare at her screen in horror.

“…No signal.”

An Zhi lowered her gaze, eyes falling on the words still bright red on the white paper:

“Don’t trust Brother Feng.”

So… who were they supposed to trust now?