Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 39

Because the veteran designer had a massive fanbase and Ye Yuxi was just a newcomer, compounded by Feixun’s hired trolls muddying the waters, the entire incident quickly turned one-sided.

Almost everyone was criticizing Miss Ye and her game, Campus Nightmares. Defenders were nearly nonexistent online.

Meanwhile, Feixun’s newly released horror game received widespread acclaim.

A few people pointed out in the comments that while the structure of Feixun’s game was over 70% similar to Campus Nightmares, it somehow wasn’t as fun. However, these comments were immediately branded as posts by Ye Yuxi’s or DouDou’s “paid bots” and promptly drowned in insults.

“Worshipping a plagiarized game? Are you that desperate?”

“Go back and beg your DouDou overlord for cash!”

Such remarks effectively silenced anyone attempting to speak up.

The relevant sections of the interstellar web descended into utter chaos.

As for Ye Yuxi, the person at the center of the controversy, she remained silent throughout the ordeal.

This ostrich-like behavior, akin to burying her head in the sand, only solidified her image as a plagiarist in the public eye. Even previously neutral bystanders began to waver.

Feixun, while puzzled by her apparent lack of resistance—after all, they hadn’t even started putting real pressure on her yet—was more than happy with the current outcome.

Liu Yuling, an unabashed fan of her junior schoolmate, couldn’t help but feel worried.

She had tried to speak up for Ye Yuxi, only to be met with relentless attacks. Her gaming streamer account even suffered collateral damage.

Fortunately, Liu Yuling wasn’t too concerned about that. Streaming was just a side hobby for her, not a future career. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have stayed in a niche community for so long, where only true fans mattered, not random passersby.

Let the casual viewers leave; she could always create a new alias and continue streaming.

Her real worry, however, was that she couldn’t get in touch with Ye Yuxi.

Liu Yuling believed in her junior’s talent and trusted her character as a friend.

But still—some things were inevitable. Everyone knew of cases where someone, unable to handle the pressure, might make irreversible decisions. Who could say if this budding genius, struck down just as she was beginning to shine, wouldn’t fall into despair?

As Liu Yuling spiraled into these uncontrollable thoughts, the number she had been relentlessly calling finally returned her call.

“Senior Liu, I’m so sorry! I was recording a program just now and only saw your messages now.”

For a moment, Liu Yuling thought she had misheard.

“What?! Do you even know what’s happening right now? And you’re still in the mood to record programs?!”

Here she was, worrying herself sick, only to find the person most affected didn’t seem to care at all, letting rumors run rampant on purpose?!

On the other end, Ye Yuxi paused, then quickly said, 

“No, no, that’s not it! Actually… well, you’ll find out very soon!”

Before Liu Yuling could press further, she noticed a new post from the designer account she followed.

It was from none other than Miss Ye herself—a single pinned post.

It was a link.

Countless netizens, eager to see what new tricks she might pull, clicked on it without hesitation.

In the next moment, they found themselves watching what appeared to be a pre-recorded official interview program.

“Wait, if I’m not mistaken, isn’t this show pretty reputable?”

“Yeah, I think it is. I recall it often invites big names from academia to share interesting stories about their research journeys, aiming to promote awareness and break stereotypes about the academic world…”

“Holy crap! That old gentleman—I just watched his lecture recently… the recorded version, at least. Isn’t he that legendary expert in historical archaeology?”

“Wait! I don’t know much about the academic world… but who’s the person sitting next to him?”

This program wasn’t particularly formal, leaning toward a relaxed style. After a brief introduction of the guests by the host, the discussion flowed freely.

But when the host casually introduced Ye Yuxi to the audience, everyone was stunned.

“Dear viewers, you might not know this, but Miss Ye here is a rising star in game design as well as an independent researcher of ancient cultures.

“Half a month ago, she submitted a request to donate the ancient cultural materials she used in her game to history and archaeology departments across universities. Initially, her proposal was almost dismissed as a joke. Thankfully, Professor Yuan recognized her talent, ensuring that both her expertise and the invaluable materials gained the academic recognition they deserved.”

What was she even talking about? Why did they recognize every word, yet couldn’t understand them strung together?

A game? Could it be Campus Nightmares?

Come to think of it, when Miss Ye originally promoted the game, she marketed it as allowing players to experience the forbidden campus games of a millennium ago. But when that so-called “original” designer stepped forward and claimed credit, people naturally forgot about it.

Ye Yuxi seemed entirely unaware of the uproar she’d caused. She interacted with Professor Yuan as if she were just an ordinary guest, discussing academic topics with ease.

It was clear that her knowledge of history and archaeology was exceptionally profound. She confidently addressed the intricate questions posed by Professor Yuan, speaking as if she had lived in that ancient earth era herself.

Of course, some of her ideas seemed wildly fantastical to the interstellar audience. For example, her explanation that early-modern humans primarily relied on coal—a low-efficiency and highly polluting energy source—was met with widespread skepticism.

Still, she presented her points so logically and coherently that they surprisingly aligned with some of the latest findings in the archaeological field. Her confident demeanor suggested she wasn’t making baseless claims but had evidence to back them up.

After listening to so much brain-bending academic discussion, the viewers started to half-believe in her solid historical knowledge. Only then did the realization hit them—

So Campus Nightmares was actually that impressive? It truly recreated a millennia-old campus from the early-modern era?

A moment later, Professor Yuan finally asked the question that had been on the viewers’ minds.

“Miss Ye, I’m very curious—how did you come to know so much about early-modern culture?”

Ye Yuxi offered a modest smile.

“Well, I grew up in a fringe star system. When I was about 15, my parents passed away, leaving me a small inheritance. To get a better education, I moved to the central star systems on my own.”

“As for my family, I don’t know much. But when I was young, my parents often told me very old stories, and our home had many ancient books lying around. Unfortunately, most of those books were sold off to pay for their medical treatment before they passed away.”

“Still, I remember the pages I flipped through as a child, utterly fascinated. I feel that while the civilization of that era was far less advanced than ours, lacking the high-tech convenience we enjoy today, it left behind a brilliantly vibrant culture. I wanted to find a way to record what I’d seen back then, so others could witness it and marvel at it too.”

The best lies are always mixed with truths.

Most of what she said was true. The only falsehoods were that her family never owned ancient texts, nor did her parents tell her stories.

As a child in the fringe star systems, like most left-behind kids, she barely even remembered her parents.

The fringe systems were nothing like the central ones—chaotic and, in some places, even outside the reach of the interstellar web. She doubted anyone would bother investigating her hometown.

Though her story included embellishments, her emotions were genuine. She truly wanted to bring the culture of that unreachable era—the one she cherished most—into this modern age.

Specifically, its horror and supernatural culture.

Her sincere words were incredibly moving. Even Professor Yuan seemed slightly touched.

“So, Miss Ye, you chose to incorporate the culture you knew into your game. I must say, your Campus Nightmares is very well-made. Even an old man like me finds it refreshing.”

He even made a light-hearted joke.

“I almost think combining ancient culture with games is an excellent approach. But sadly, there aren’t many people with such deep cultural expertise who also have the time to make games!”

The rest of the segment was filled with mutual praise, but the netizens weren’t listening anymore.

They felt as if their brains had been hit by a hammer. For the first time, they seemed to truly grasp the situation.

So it’s confirmed now! The same Miss Ye, who had an engaging conversation with an academic giant, created a campus horror game introducing the traditions of a millennium ago. Yet she was wrongfully accused of plagiarism and got roasted to interstellar trending!