Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 44
As one of the most sought-after star designers of the moment, coupled with the advantage of his privileged family background, Chu Yuanming’s studio was entirely under his control. He had absolute authority over every matter, big or small, related to him.
At this moment, his assistant had come to the office intending to report on the recent scandal involving the Feixun platform. To their surprise, they walked in on their boss seemingly acting as a professional fan of the rookie designer currently stirring up a storm—Miss Ye.
After observing their boss murmuring over Miss Ye’s profile page for a while, the assistant finally mustered the courage to step forward and quietly report the chaos Feixun had caused and the significant damage to its reputation.
“Boss, what should we do now?”
“What else can we do?” Chu Yuanming nonchalantly clicked the pre-order download button on Doudou’s new game page.
“Leave Starfall 2 on Feixun for now, but the long-term partnership ends here. Go talk to Chu Zong about terminating the contract.”
“Huh?” The assistant was stunned. Feixun was owned by the boss’s uncle—wasn’t this a bit harsh?
It was as if Chu Yuanming heard the assistant’s thoughts. He let out a derisive laugh.
“Such a dumb move… Signing that long-term deal just because we’re family was my biggest mistake. When you see him, tell him his small-mindedness isn’t fit for big business. He might as well just go home and relax.”
“U-understood. I’ll relay your message to Chu Zong.”
The assistant, trembling, felt the cold indifference—even malice in Chu Yuanming’s tone toward his uncle. They couldn’t help but wish they were deaf to avoid being caught up in this family drama.
Just as the office atmosphere grew increasingly tense, a notification alert rang from Chu Yuanming’s terminal.
“Ding-dong~ The designer you follow has a new update!”
The assistant watched in stunned silence as Chu Yuanming instantly opened it without a moment’s hesitation.
“…” A professional fan, indeed.
Meanwhile, in the Nanhai University dormitory not far away, Ye Yuxi struggled out of bed with dark circles under her eyes, determined to witness the release of her new trailer firsthand.
This trailer was a special one. She had invested double the previous budget to purchase a unique module, allowing all viewers to experience the trailer in first-person immersive mode!
However, there was a drawback: during the immersive experience, viewers couldn’t see live comments or feedback.
After some thought, Ye Yuxi decided it didn’t matter. She had already tested the trailer countless times in first-person mode during bug fixes. What she truly wanted now was to watch the live comments.
But others clearly didn’t think the same way.
At the Central Military Academy, Ji Yu shot up from his bed like a startled fish.
“Ye Gou’s new game? Oh ho, Ye Gou has made it big—finally releasing a first-person immersive trailer.”
He smirked, then created a screening room and mischievously pulled his good buddy Lu Xiaofeng into it. As the room host, he immediately launched the trailer, forcing his unsuspecting friend to join the immersive experience.
Lu Xiaofeng, completely unguarded against Ji Yu, was caught off guard and dragged in.
At first, he felt as if he were falling into darkness. Gradually, a faint light appeared—an eerie, dim moonlight.
He found himself standing on a neighborhood street. It was late at night, the moon high in the sky, bright but offering limited illumination. The streetlights in the area seemed broken—some flickered erratically, while others were entirely off.
The neighborhood appeared to consist of standalone houses. He stood on a street flanked by rows of elegant villas. Yet, for some reason, not a single house had its lights on.
In the darkness, it felt as though a silent predator lurked, ready to strike at any moment.
This kind of signature atmosphere instantly dredged up unpleasant memories for Lu Xiaofeng.
“Ji Yu, you little punk… you wouldn’t dare…” A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
He had to admit, his unique bad ending in Campus Nightmare had left a deep psychological scar.
Although many guides had surfaced online afterward, detailing how to clear the game, and he’d even skimmed through them to grasp the strategies, he steadfastly refused to touch the game again. He had no interest in putting himself through such torment a second time.
He was a battle-hardened man, unafraid of blood or the battlefield. But when it came to bizarre, intangible threats—things he couldn’t punch—he was utterly powerless.
In stark contrast stood his roommate, Wang Yuze.
Since discovering this peculiar game, some strange characteristic of Wang Yuze had seemingly been unlocked—what Lu Xiaofeng could only describe as a masochistic streak.
Despite the availability of walkthroughs, Wang Yuze was obsessed with exploring new ways to court death. Every session would end with him exiting the game pale as a sheet, only for him to dive back in with renewed enthusiasm, repeating the cycle.
Ahem. Suffice it to say, if he weren’t concerned about his dignity, Lu Xiaofeng would have shouted right then and there: “Ji Yu, let me out! I’m not playing!”
But this was just a pre-rendered trailer. As a first-person experience, he had no control over the events unfolding.
The first-person perspective moved slowly along the street. It took a while for him to realize that the protagonist wasn’t walking—they were seated in a vehicle, staring out the window.
The car was moving at a snail’s pace.
After two or three seconds, it stopped in front of a house.
Or rather, a haunted house.
There was no other way to describe it. Not only were its lights off, but its unkempt garden seemed long abandoned, overrun with wild plants that grew in chaotic disarray, lending an air of desolation and decay.
As Lu Xiaofeng’s inner voice screamed a hundred protests against getting out of the car, it was as if the protagonist heard him—the character didn’t step out.
The screen went black.
A second later, it lit up again, much brighter this time—the lights inside the vehicle turned on.
The protagonist took a walk around, giving the viewers a better sense of their surroundings.
It turned out they were still inside the vehicle—a spacious RV, complete with a sofa, a mini-fridge, and even a small round table. On the table sat an assortment of miscellaneous but seemingly useful items—
A yellow talisman from Campus Nightmare, a small peachwood sword about an inch long, and other tools like a flashlight, a camera, and a pair of pliers.
Directly across from the table was a massive electronic screen displaying countless posts, each marked with a star rating.
A burst of static, accompanied by electronic feedback, interrupted the moment as the RV’s radio came to life.
As the interference diminished, a clear female voice emerged:
“Attention, One-Star Squad. You may only take on one-star missions.”
“Remember this: your mission is not to fight but to collect evidence of the ghost’s existence. The more thorough the evidence, the higher your completion rate and the greater your reward.”
“Now, good luck.”
The moment the voice faded, three blurry shadows materialized beside the protagonist.