Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 25

While the situation for the other streamers was rapidly spiraling out of control, Huang Heng finally strolled leisurely into the scene and found the group of NPCs.

Before the NPCs could even finish their scripted interactions, her eyes lit up, and she dashed over to a tree with a bell hanging from it. She excitedly reached out to touch it.

“Senior, no! You can’t just touch those soul bells!” Qiu Zu exclaimed in alarm, stopping her in her tracks.

Reluctantly pulling her hand back, Huang Heng glanced downward and caught sight of some candles on the ground. Her eyes immediately gleamed with an even more intense light, and she half-knelt, staring intently at the candles as if in a trance.

“Could it be…?” 

If her memory served her correctly, her teacher had once acquired something similar at an antique auction—a small cylindrical object encased in amber, the function of which was entirely unknown.

Her teacher had displayed it carefully at home, not daring to handle it unnecessarily, fearing that breaking the amber would destroy the artifact inside.

And now, right in front of her, objects that bore a striking resemblance to that ancient relic—these so-called “candles”—were just lying casually on the ground!

The NPCs were startled by her reaction.

“Uh… Senior, why are you staring at the candles like that?”

“Candles? Are you telling me this is what you call a candle?”

Huang Heng’s enthusiasm unsettled the NPCs.

“Y-Yeah, they’re just candles. You know, for lighting when there’s no electricity? Though we don’t really need them anymore since we have flashlights. I had to search through a ton of online shops to get the ones we needed for this spirit summoning ritual game.”

Ah Fei, one of the NPCs, even pulled out his phone to show the shop he’d bought them from.

The next moment, Huang Heng pounced on him.

“What is this?!” she exclaimed, tracing the outline of Ah Fei’s phone as if it were the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.

Ah Fei was so startled that the curse word on the tip of his tongue was forcibly swallowed by the game’s language filter system.

“Uh… Senior, what are you doing? Don’t just grab my phone! You have one too, don’t you?”

“…My own?” Huang Heng muttered, her gaze shifting toward the screen hovering in front of her.

This auxiliary tool, which had served as their guide since the beginning of the game, could it be…?

She cautiously searched the interface and eventually found a small toggle switch. With a gentle press, the floating screen disappeared.

In its place was a rectangular device, identical to the ones the NPCs were holding. A… “phone,” as they called it.

Testing it out, she found it functional, though less convenient compared to the holographic screen.

If anything, it matched their assumptions about ancient human technology from the near-primeval period.

“Huang Heng, what on earth are you doing? We’re in the middle of rehearsal! Hurry up and join the summoning ritual!” Wen Qian, the team leader, frowned and gestured for her to step into the circle of candles.

To everyone’s surprise, Huang Heng ignored her entirely. 

“You all go ahead. I’m going to study this place for a bit.”

Without waiting for their reactions, she decisively turned around and… left.

The NPCs were left dumbfounded, and the previously quiet livestream chat instantly erupted.

[I’ve never seen such a reckless streamer… What’s she even doing? Is she scared of the main storyline?]

[If she doesn’t want to play, she should just quit! Who’s here to watch her take a nighttime campus tour?]

At this point, the three-part livestream had descended into complete chaos: two streams filled with terrifying chase sequences, and one that had somehow turned into an academic exploration (?).

“Who would’ve thought our chosen player would turn out to be a lover of ancient cultures?” Ye Yuxi, observing Huang Heng’s behavior, was equally surprised.

With memories of both her past life on Earth and her current life in the interstellar age, Ye Yuxi had considered such historical elements when designing the game’s lore.

In the interstellar era, the terrifying urban legends and myths of old had long since faded into obscurity. Everyday life had undergone such radical changes that something as simple as a functioning candle would be nearly impossible to find across the entire galaxy.

Without these cultural underpinnings, Ye Yuxi believed horror stories had lost the essence of their original atmosphere.

This was why she had decided to set the game in Earth’s 21st century—a period referred to in galactic history as the “Ancient Earth Era.” It was a time still rich with the traditions, superstitions, and everyday items that gave weight to such narratives.

Unfortunately, much to her disappointment, most interstellar players didn’t seem to care much about the historical backdrop. At most, there had been some cursory comments mocking the use of candles, flashlights, and bells, but nothing beyond that.

She had even imagined how she might respond to players who uncovered and appreciated the ancient cultural elements. But as things stood, it seemed like those scenarios would never play out.

Pulling herself back to the present, Ye Yuxi refocused on the livestream. Her gaze fixed on Huang Heng, who was nonchalantly walking away from the spirit summoning ritual circle, heading toward the gate of the May Bridge.

“Straying from the main storyline in my game? You won’t be able to wander freely for long,” Ye Yuxi muttered to herself with a faint smile.

To her surprise, Huang Heng was about to trigger a hidden “Easter egg” she’d planted in the game.

As Huang Heng approached the archway, the long-dormant system voice suddenly chimed in:

“Warning! Player is about to leave the main storyline zone!”

Huang Heng paused briefly, then quickened her pace.

She had zero interest in the spirit summoning ritual game. What she wanted was to explore the academic buildings and study the ancient communication device—the “phone.”

Her plan was clear: record everything from this point on, create valuable video documentation, and bring it back to analyze with her mentor.

But then—huh?

Huang Heng blinked, confused.

What was happening? Why couldn’t she move her body anymore?!

She felt her consciousness being forcibly pulled away, rising higher and higher. Her perspective abruptly shifted to a third-person view.

Her in-game avatar was no longer under her control. She had become a mere observer.

Simultaneously, the passage of time within the game accelerated unnaturally. The night dissolved into daylight as the sun pierced through the clouds. It was as though the world itself had fast-forwarded, day breaking in the blink of an eye.

Even within the game, the spectacle was stunning, leaving both Huang Heng and the livestream viewers speechless.

[What’s going on? Is this some kind of time-lapse? It’s incredible!]

[Oh, I’ve read about this! There’s a planet in the Alpha system where you can experience rapid day-night cycles like this.]

Before long, the chat had completely derailed into a debate about interstellar vacation spots, while Huang Heng clenched her wrist tightly, her suspicions growing.

Her vision blurred momentarily. When it cleared, the perspective shifted back to the May Bridge.

The soft morning light now illuminated a grisly scene: three corpses lay sprawled on the ground, their faces twisted in expressions of pure terror.

Their broken, hollowed-out arms overlapped in a macabre circle, though a gap in the formation suggested there was once a fourth person among them.

Beside the bodies stood a lone figure. He was speaking into a phone, his voice frantic yet distorted, filled with static and incomprehensible noise.

The only sound Huang Heng could hear clearly was the cold, mechanical tone of the system voice:

“Congratulations, Player, on unlocking the hidden ending: Ignorant Observer (?). This game session has concluded. Please choose: [Exit] or [Restart].”