Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 102
Azi was far from the only one who chose to attack the NPCs.
Compared to ordinary players, these military academy students naturally had stronger aggression and fiery temperaments. When subjected to extreme fear, over 60% of them had a high likelihood of entering a violent, berserker-like state.
Whether from the Central Military Academy or the First Military Academy, they had all clearly underestimated just how terrifying a horror game could be.
Perhaps they understood, on some level, that Miss Ye had created a brand-new species—ghosts—that were fundamentally different from traditional enemies like zombies. But they still treated them as enemies to be fought.
And since the walkthroughs of Ye Yuxi’s previous two games were all over the internet, they had naturally consulted some before playing. They believed they were psychologically prepared, ready for jump scares and eerie atmospheres. However, they never truly experienced the raw, primal fear that came with a first blind playthrough.
Which is why, not until the moment they raised their fists or weapons in an attempt to resist, did they feel a jolt of gut-wrenching terror.
Because they suddenly realized that ghosts were not enemies you could fight.
To put it more precisely:
In Ye Yuxi’s horror games, there is no such thing as a combat system.
All players can do when facing these uncanny, unexplainable entities is flee with everything they’ve got, or riddle out the escape routes carefully designed by the game creator.
What made the ghosts terrifying wasn’t just their invincibility—
It was their very presence, soaked in the essence of death. Even before they attacked, players would already feel a chilling cold pierce their bones. And their methods of attack? Completely unpredictable and deeply unsettling.
Fear of death is hardwired into human nature.
And part of that fear stems from the unknown, even now, in the modern era, we still don’t truly understand what happens after death.
Ghosts, from their origin, to their presence, to their manner of attack, perfectly embody that fear of the unknown.
Ye Yuxi, with each game, gradually escalated the difficulty. Blending the mechanics of ghost attacks with the symbolic weight of death into the story itself, making players uncover these truths for themselves bit by bit.
In doing so, she planted in every player’s heart a seed called supernatural fear.
An Zhi was no exception.
Inside the livestream room with An Zhi and her two teammates.
Watching the NPCs argue, An Zhi was unusually silent.
Zhang Wen had always seemed like the quiet, reserved type. Even during livestreams, she came off a bit shy. But right now, her voice was louder than ever, arguing fervently.
“No matter what, things are just too weird now! Brother Feng’s always been the one protecting us. We’ve made it this far because of him! If we want to survive this, we have to follow what he says!”
Ah Yuan was panting, her face flushed as if she’d just run a marathon, so red it looked like she might bleed.
“Don’t joke around! You’re saying there’s a ghost? Then where is it? Point it out to me!”
She didn’t even realize her voice was trembling. She refused to accept that ghosts could exist, because if they did, her entire worldview would crumble.
The girl with the twin braids occasionally chimed in as well.
“Exactly. Isn’t it too dangerous to split up now? And we can’t even be sure the call really came from Brother Feng, can we?”
At that, An Zhi slightly raised her head.
She moved closer to Sheng Qingye and whispered, “Xiao Ji told me before—the guy in the baseball cap is a ghost. He said we must not trust him, but Brother Feng is reliable…”
Sheng Qingye frowned faintly.
“It’s true, the baseball cap guy is a ghost. But whether or not he’s trustworthy… still uncertain. As for Brother Feng…”
“We’ve never had direct contact with him. All our intel about him has come secondhand. What Xiao Ji went through all that effort to share with us, we absolutely need to take seriously. But don’t forget, when he called us, he didn’t say the passphrase.”
“Maybe it was because things were too urgent. Maybe he didn’t have time. But even so, without the passphrase, we can’t fully verify that it was really Xiao Ji.”
An Zhi nodded.
To be honest, she was starting to feel a headache coming on. She could handle battlefield strategy and tactical planning just fine but trying to figure out who was lying? That wasn’t her strength.
Everyone was arguing. Loud. Heated.
It was making her head throb but just barely within what she could tolerate.
Just as she and Sheng Qingye were struggling to decide which side to believe.
The three NPCs who had been arguing suddenly fell silent at the exact same time.
At that same moment, every livestream screen froze in place.
A female voice rang out:
“Time’s up! Match over. Proceeding to tally the remaining players on each side!”
Viewers who had been engrossed in the livestreams were stunned.
Wait—what?! It’s been an hour already?!