Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 3
After returning to her dorm, Ye Yuxi immediately sent a message through her smart terminal to a senior from the Star Network Information Department she was acquainted with, asking for help tracking down the two accounts spreading wild rumors about her on the forums. Then, she began researching how to use holographic devices to build a game.
She was, of course, brimming with confidence in her creativity. After all, in this world devoid of supernatural elements, introducing a brand-new horror game felt like a dimensional breakthrough!
But the problem was, she only had one week left. Although she had previously made a half-finished product as a midterm project, it was just an ordinary escape game with slightly innovative scene designs—nowhere near the level Ye Yuxi aimed for.
She wanted to seize this opportunity to showcase even a glimpse of Earth’s supernatural settings. However, this meant she couldn’t use any of her pre-built scenes and had to start from scratch, which naturally left her pressed for time.
Think you’re brave? Not scared of a slasher chase scene? Fine, I’ll give you a little ghostly shock next week!
Ye Yuxi connected the sensors, sat in her chair, and pressed the activation button.
For a moment, the scene before her eyes dissolved into colorful fragments, only to reassemble into a complete picture.
In just a blink, Ye Yuxi found herself transported from her small dorm room to an expansive white space.
This was her exclusive virtual creative workspace. Here, she could use her mental power to freely construct scenes—a working method unique to designers in the interstellar era.
She started by closing her eyes, tentatively imagining the shape of a table from memory.
When she opened her eyes again, an identical table appeared in front of her.
However, before she could celebrate, a closer inspection revealed that the table was only constructed as a single flat surface. Walking around to the back, she saw… nothing.
Ye Yuxi: “…”
Fine. She admitted it. This wasn’t as easy as it seemed. A week was cutting it too close!
What should she do now? Could she deliver a result she’d be satisfied with on time?
Biting her lower lip, Ye Yuxi frowned in thought for a moment before suddenly pulling up the control panel and switching the virtual space to her previously completed half-finished project.
Like a drop of ink falling onto white paper, the empty white space quickly transformed. The once-blank sky darkened into a pitch-black void, and the void beneath her feet turned into solid ground…
In no time, the empty space became an arched bridge suspended over a scenic lake!
Ye Yuxi gazed at the lifelike scene around her, reaching out to touch the virtual shrubs nearby. Feeling their realistic texture filled her heart with awe.
So this is a holographic game? It’s absolutely stunning!
In her previous life, she’d played so-called VR games, but they couldn’t compare to this in terms of immersion!
Being able to create a horror puzzle game in such a setting was a lifelong dream come true!
A fiery excitement flickered in her heart, but she quickly calmed herself.
Before regaining her memories, she had planned to design a scene where players would be chased by a murderer on a rainy night, forced onto the bridge. But now, with some adjustments to the original concept, she might be able to create the first-ever supernatural game in the entire interstellar domain!
She pondered for a moment, tweaking the original architecture to make it more eerie and terrifying. Then, she began inserting NPCs.
For such a game, the most critical NPC was, of course, the ghost herself. Ye Yuxi directly modified the rainy-night murderer she had previously designed, transforming him into a ghostly figure. She then purchased an NPC template and inserted it.
—She had wanted to design the character from scratch, but creating several distinct NPCs within a week was simply impossible. Using templates was her only option.
Fortunately, the templates had one advantage: she could manually add settings for the NPCs through the console, making it quick and convenient.
In her previous life, Ye Yuxi had played countless story-driven horror games, leaving her overflowing with inspiration. She quickly and skillfully completed the game’s design documents.
Next came the task of refining the scenes and arranging the storyline…
One week later.
In the computer lab of Nanhai University’s South Campus, Liu Haitao and Li He were already waiting early.
Thanks to their relentless promotion, a crowd of students who had spare time to watch the drama had packed the room, leaving almost no space to move. They were all here to witness the outcome of the bet between Ye Yuxi and the two of them.
The larger the crowd, the greater the pressure on both sides, though it added an unspoken weight to Ye Yuxi in particular.
Li He, feeling nervous, whispered to Liu Haitao in private,
“Brother Tao, do you think we might’ve gone too far with this? What if…”
“What if, my foot?” Liu Haitao sneered. “You think that coward could design a horror game capable of scaring us?”
“What we should worry about is if she loses and refuses to drop out. With this many people watching, everyone will know her so-called ‘genius’ reputation is nothing but hot air. Let’s see how she can stay in Nanhai after this!”
Li He thought about it and agreed, staying silent.
With five minutes left until the agreed time, Ye Yuxi finally arrived, carrying her smart terminal.
Liu Haitao narrowed his triangular eyes, looking sly.
“Ye Yuxi, the Genius, afraid of losing? Trying to buy more time?”
“No, just making some final adjustments to the data,” Ye Yuxi replied, her face sporting prominent dark circles—evidence of sleepless nights over the past few days.
She connected her smart terminal to a device, imported the game data, and called out to them,
“This is a single-player game. Which of you is going first?”
While a single-player game could allow two machines to run independent, non-interfering scenarios simultaneously, enabling multiple players to load into the same instance required purchasing isolation plugins and capacity expanders.
For student-designed games like hers, that wasn’t necessary. After all, these projects weren’t commercial and were typically only meant for professors to evaluate.
So Ye Yuxi’s game would run one player at a time.
“I’ll go first,” Liu Haitao said, stepping forward. “Let’s hope your game isn’t too boring.” He even faked a yawn.
Ye Yuxi smirked.
“My game will definitely surpass your expectations. Enjoy.”
Liu Haitao hooked up the sensors and reclined in the chair.
The chair was specially designed to prevent stiffness during long gaming sessions. The headrest was connected to the critical consciousness transmitter. Above the armrest floated a transparent screen that displayed the player’s first-person view alongside an overhead perspective.
The gathered onlookers watched as the screen momentarily went black before blood-red liquid seemed to flow across it, forming a line of text:
Campus Nightmare: Prologue Demo
“Prologue demo? Does that mean the game isn’t fully made yet? The map must be tiny—it’ll probably end super quickly,” one male spectator commented, disappointed.
Ye Yuxi ignored the doubtful remarks and stared intently at the screen.
Let the show begin!