Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 30
Qiu Zi let out a short scream, her face still pale with fright. But when she saw the intruder’s true identity, her expression relaxed slightly.
“What the heck, Senior Wen Qian! You scared us!”
“Come on, it’s obvious you’re the only one who got scared,” retorted Wen Qian, who had burst into the room.
Her silver-framed glasses were slightly askew, and the stray strands of hair near her ears were plastered to her face with sweat. It was clear she’d been running hard just moments ago. Her complexion was ghostly pale, but after exchanging some banter with Qiu Zi, a bit of color returned to her cheeks.
Meanwhile, Liu Yuling, whom Wen Qian had overestimated, couldn’t even manage a stiff smile.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t been scared—she’d simply been scared so many times that she had gone past her threshold and was now too numb to react.
After a few words, Wen Qian regained her composure and turned her attention to her groupmates.
“Did you two… run into something?”
Qiu Zi’s expression froze at the question.
Liu Yuling, remembering that she was ultimately just a player in a game, kept reminding herself that the terrifying things she’d seen were all fake and couldn’t actually hurt her. Forcing herself to stay calm, she responded,
“Senior Wen Qian, are you talking about the ghost woman?”
She noticed Wen Qian’s body visibly tremble at the mention.
“Even if it’s late, I still want to apologize. If it weren’t for me organizing this activity, maybe none of us would have encountered something this horrifying.”
Qiu Zi shook her head vigorously.
“Don’t say that. We all agreed to this activity—it’s not your fault alone.”
Liu Yuling cut in, breaking up the pointless exchange.
“There’s no need for apologies right now. What we need to focus on is getting out of here!”
“You’re right.” Wen Qian had calmed down completely now and began recounting her experience.
“…Earlier, I was with Li Hua when that thing suddenly appeared.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “ghost woman” directly. “Li Hua suggested we split up and run in opposite directions. If either of us made it out, we’d meet in front of the comprehensive building. So I came here.”
“At first, I thought we’d be safe if we ran beyond the boundaries of May Bridge. But now you’re saying you ran into something near the office door too…”
Wen Qian closed her eyes, clearly pained, and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, her expression had turned resolute.
“In that case, we can’t just run away from this. We have to figure out what’s really going on from start to finish!”
“You mentioned seeing the ghost of a senior who died in the May spirit summoning ritual Game 20 years ago go into Room 205, the archive room?”
The three girls’ gazes turned toward the second floor.
If the first floor was merely dimly lit, then the second floor was nearly pitch black. Only the small areas illuminated by their flashlights were visible.
Beyond the reach of their lights, the darkness seemed to hold untold horrors, ready to pounce at any moment.
The implication was clear. Whatever that figure—presumably the ghost of the senior—wanted, she was trying to draw them into the archive room.
But was she an ally or an enemy?
Should they go in or not?
The three of them exchanged uneasy glances.
After a long silence, Qiu Zi hesitantly voiced her thoughts.
“Have you noticed how eerily quiet the school is?”
It was true. Even during holidays, the school was never this devoid of life. Not a single person had appeared despite all the noise they’d made earlier. The dormitory building right behind the comprehensive building didn’t have a single light on either.
“I feel like something is very wrong with the school. I-I think we should go to the school gate and check. There are lots of 24-hour stores there—let’s go together!”
Qiu Zi bit her lip. It was obvious she cared more about getting out of this haunted place and seeing other living people than unraveling the mystery.
Both Wen Qian and Liu Yuling shook their heads almost simultaneously.
“It’s precisely because things are so strange that we need to figure this out,” Liu Yuling said. “There might be clues in the archive room.”
Wen Qian added, “Besides, our school has two gates—one near May Bridge and the other on the far side of the campus. Either way, running to a gate seems even more dangerous right now, doesn’t it?”
Qiu Zi fell silent.
In the end, the three of them unanimously decided to head upstairs.
Room 205, which should have been locked, now had its lock mysteriously undone.
Liu Yuling wondered if it was the ghostly senior who had unlocked it but forced herself not to dwell on the thought.
The archive room’s layout was simple: a desk with a chair and a computer on top, surrounded by shelves filled with countless files.
With so many documents, it was nearly impossible to sift through them all for clues. Naturally, they went straight to the computer, hoping to use it for an electronic search.
They had braced themselves for the challenge of cracking a password but were surprised to find the computer already turned on, as if the administrator had just been sitting there moments ago.
Instead of sitting down, Liu Yuling leaned over the desk to search, her eyes unconsciously grazing over the nameplate on the desk.
“Archive Room Administrator: Liu Chun”
She quickly looked away.
Using the archive room’s computer, they soon unearthed confidential files about the May spirit summoning ritual incident from 20 years ago.
“Five students—two male and three female—played a spirit summoning ritual game on May Bridge… By the next morning, the bodies of one male and three females were discovered. The surviving male student was named Zhao Chunhe…”
Liu Yuling felt frustrated. This was clearly critical information for the game, yet she couldn’t connect the dots.
How was this information useful? Could they truly find a way to counter the ghost from it?
She left the computer and wandered around the room, eventually finding a hidden safe in a secluded corner, almost camouflaged against the wall.
“Is the password four digits?” she wondered aloud, glancing at the opposite wall, where four colorful paintings were hung.
The paintings were nothing but vibrant swathes of color—no discernible figures, just varying shades and hues.
“Oh, I think I’ve seen something like this before!” Wen Qian suddenly exclaimed. “If I’m not mistaken, there should be a transparency nearby…”
“A transparency?” Liu Yuling was confused. She was sure she’d never encountered anything like this in a game before.
“It’s a dark card you overlay on the paintings. It’ll reveal some kind of clue… Let’s all look for it!”
Eventually, Liu Yuling found a dark brown, A4-sized transparency between two books on a shelf. It felt slightly rigid, unlike normal paper.
Wen Qian took the transparency and pressed it against one of the paintings.
A number immediately appeared amidst the swathes of color: 9.
Realizing what was happening, Liu Yuling quickly caught on. They repeated the process for the other paintings and extracted a four-digit code. Tentatively, they entered it into the safe.
Beep.
It opened on the first try.
For a moment, the previously silent livestream chat burst into activity again.
[What is this? It looks like some kind of security measure. This is so cool!]
[I’d love to use something like this to pass secret messages.]
[Seriously? Who even writes by hand anymore? Doesn’t everyone just use digital interfaces these days? This is so outdated and pointless.]
Gradually, the tone of the chatroom became unfriendly.
A group of viewers had started sowing discord, creating a toxic atmosphere in the comments. Many found it unbearable and chose to turn off the chat, but doing so diminished the fun.
This shift didn’t go unnoticed. A specialist from DouDou’s team was monitoring the situation but chose not to inform Ye Yuxi just yet. Instead, they began discussing internally how best to address the issue.
Of course, the characters inside the game were oblivious to the chaos outside.
Liu Yuling’s full attention was now on the papers inside the safe.
“This is…”