Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 31

Liu Yuling flipped through the meticulously protected sheets of paper, her brows furrowing.

They looked like receipts? No, there was also one densely written page.

The girls decided to start with the page that had the most writing. It appeared to be a printout from a webpage detailing a legend.

“It is said that on the most yin day of May, offering four sacrifices can temporarily escape the wrath of vengeful spirits. However, as part of the ‘repayment,’ one must fulfill ⬛⬛ years later ⬛⬛…”

“Ugh! What’s with this? So many parts are smudged!” Qiu Zi complained.

Remaining composed, Liu Yuling immediately turned her attention to the other pages.

Qiu Zi leaned over, curious.

“Let me see… Hmm… Xu Yi transferred money to Zhao Chunhe… 1,000?!”

Her voice rose uncontrollably. “That’s a lot!”

“Xu Yi is the head of the school’s logistics department, isn’t he? Why would he suddenly transfer so much money to this student?”

She examined the note attached to the receipt.

“The note says it’s for work-study compensation. The date is April 19××, exactly 20 years ago? No wonder it looks so old—it’s a receipt from that long ago…”

Twenty years ago?

A lightbulb went off in Liu Yuling’s mind. She finally realized why Zhao Chunhe’s name sounded so familiar.

“He’s the only male survivor from the May Summoning Game 20 years ago!”

Wen Qian frowned.

“So, one month before the tragedy, Director Xu transferred 1,000 yuan to the sole survivor of the incident. And back then, 1,000 yuan was a significant amount. But… what does it mean?”

No one could answer, but a suffocating tension filled the room.

The second receipt was similar, but it appeared much newer, dated to this April.

This time, the transfer was for 5,000 yuan, also initiated by Xu Yi. The recipient, however, was—

Qiu Zi’s voice suddenly grew hoarse.

“…Li Hua?”

Wen Qian raised her head, as if not comprehending: 

“…What?”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

The silence carried an undercurrent of unease.

Wen Qian suddenly grew agitated. 

“What’s wrong with you all? It doesn’t necessarily have to be that Li Hua! Besides, what does transferring money in April prove? Li Hua has always been doing work-study jobs! And nothing even happened this May…”

Her words became increasingly disjointed, as if she were trying to convince herself.

“Senior, calm down,” Qiu Zi sighed. “I just suddenly remembered something. Didn’t Li Hua suggest recreating the May spirit summoning ritual Game from 20 years ago as a 1:1 reenactment and editing it into a recruitment video? But then the pandemic happened, and the school shut down, so everyone went home, and it never happened…”

“But that doesn’t prove anything!” Wen Qian’s voice rose.

Liu Yuling, lacking any memory of the event they mentioned, could only watch from the side.

However, noticing Wen Qian’s staunch defense of Li Hua, she could sense what was going on and approached Wen Qian, gently patting her shoulder.

“Senior Wen Qian, don’t be like this. Nothing has been concluded yet—and we’ll stay by your side no matter what.”

Wen Qian calmed down a bit, lowering her head.

“Sorry. I’m just… so tense. And I’ve mentored Li Hua for so long—I really don’t want to suspect him.”

A heavy atmosphere lingered in the room.

Liu Yuling habitually scanned her surroundings, hoping to find anything they might have overlooked. That’s when she noticed a small red dot on the bottom shelf of a bookcase.

“What’s this?” She retrieved the object, finding it heavy and square-shaped.

“Hey, why is there a camera here?” Qiu Zi, eager to shift the mood, spoke in a deliberately light tone.

“A camera?” Liu Yuling was about to respond when a long-absent system notification appeared before her eyes.

Player has obtained an item: Camera.

It is said that the camera’s lens can capture things invisible to the human eye.

A new item?

Liu Yuling glanced at the nuclear-powered flashlight in her hand, recalling how valuable these items were. Without a second thought, she gripped the camera tightly.

“Qiu Zi, how do I use this? Teach me,” Liu Yuling asked.

“Ah, sure,” Qiu Zi replied, a little puzzled but not refusing.

At that moment, a phone rang.

Both turned their eyes to Wen Qian, who frowned, pulled out her phone, and suddenly grew excited.

“It’s Li Hua calling! Does that mean we have signal now?!”

Qiu Zi immediately pulled out her own phone but went from thrilled to disappointed in an instant.

“No, it’s still showing no signal.”

Then she realized something, her hand flying to cover her mouth, eyes wide with fear.

Everyone fell silent, staring at the blinking icon on Wen Qian’s phone.

If there was no signal… then what was calling her?!

The atmosphere was so eerily quiet that the ringing phone became unbearably sharp against the silence.

Wen Qian gritted her teeth, her expression flickering under the combined light of her phone and the flashlight.

Taking a deep breath, she seemed to make a decision and, with trembling hands, pressed “answer.”

When the familiar voice came from the other end and nothing terrifying happened, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Ah Qian, is that you? Are you at the lobby of the main building now?”

“Yes, I…” Wen Qian began to answer but paused mid-sentence, deliberately omitting the fact that she was with her two companions.

Her subtle hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by the “audience.”

【Was this NPC planning to expose the players and Qiu Zi?】

【Good thing she didn’t spill it—who knows if the person on the other end is trustworthy? This game is making me so paranoid.】

“This is one of the branching choices,” Ye Yuxi commented while glancing at the chat, smiling as she opened her settings book.

In this game, treating NPCs as mere placeholders could have serious consequences.

For instance, if the players hadn’t raised Wen Qian’s favorability to a certain level earlier, she would have unhesitatingly told Li Hua that there were three people with her.

But credit had to be given—Liu Yuling seemed naturally gifted at navigating these branching plot points. So far, she had managed to make the right choices in every major decision.

Liu Yuling, fully engrossed in the conversation, suddenly heard a soft ding.

This time, the achievement wasn’t announced by a system voice but appeared directly on the light screen.

Congratulations! Achievement Unlocked: Trustworthy Companions. Keep it up—victory is just ahead!

Meanwhile, the call remained on speaker mode in the game.

“…I’m over here at May Bridge.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Why did you go back to that dangerous place?!” Wen Qian’s voice wavered with panic.

Liu Yuling raised her head, her heart instantly filling with caution.

Could Li Hua also be like Ah Fei…?

Before she could complete the thought, Li Hua’s urgent voice brought a new wave of mystery.

“I’ve figured out how to lay the vengeful ghost senior to rest! The answer is here at May Bridge… zzztt…”

The line crackled with static, and Li Hua seemed aware of the limited time. He spoke faster.

“Just trust me! The answer is in file A-307…!”

With a sharp click, the call was abruptly cut off.

“Li Hua?” Wen Qian called out uneasily. “Are you okay?”

There was no response.

After a long silence, faint sounds began trickling through. The noise made the three girls’ hair stand on end—it sounded disturbingly like something crawling across the ground.

A few seconds passed. Just as Wen Qian was about to hang up in her growing unease, the other side finally spoke in a hoarse voice:

“Where are you?”

Wen Qian frowned, an instinct telling her something was wrong.

“Where are you?” the voice repeated, suddenly sharper, almost shrill.

Wen Qian’s hand trembled, nearly dropping her phone.

Realizing that Wen Qian wouldn’t respond, the thing on the other end that had mimicked Li Hua’s voice let out a sinister chuckle.

“…I’m coming to find you.”

Beep… beep… beep…

The call disconnected.