Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 52
Not only were Ji Yu’s streamer teammates struggling to stifle their laughter, but the entire livestream chat had also turned into a sea of hilarity.
[Just a moment ago, I was terrified, but then I saw it was Fish General getting killed again. Suddenly, I’m not scared anymore.]
[I can’t imagine—if I watched Fish General’s streams every day, I’d become such a cheerful and optimistic person!]
[Pffft, hahaha! Can you guys at least pretend to have a conscience? Fish General is literally risking his life to entertain you, and now he’s already lost his second life. Doesn’t anyone feel bad for him? 🤣]
“Hey, can’t you people have a little sympathy?!” Ji Yu grumbled, interacting with the barrage of comments as his frustration grew.
Honestly, he was starting to lose the will to keep playing. There was no sense of enjoyment—zero fun! If he could rate this experience, it’d be a resounding thumbs-down.
But then he checked the time—good heavens, they’d only been streaming for less than half an hour!
Ji Yu felt like crying. For the first time, he truly understood what it meant for seconds to stretch into years. But there was no way out.
The Doudou streaming platform had paid him an astronomical sum to do this promotion. He’d only received 30% of the upfront payment, and if he bailed now, not only would he forfeit the remaining 70%, but he might also have to pay back the money he’d already spent!
In the adult world, money doesn’t come easy.
With a long sigh, Ji Yu resigned himself to the situation, silently vowing to drag out the next round as much as humanly possible.
“This is it—the last round. Just one more. As long as I hit the one-hour mark, I’m logging off for good!”
“Everyone says third time’s the charm. There’s no way I’ll be the unlucky one again, right?”
With that, they began gathering their supplies for the next round.
Ji Yu, rifling through his inventory, suddenly smacked his forehead in frustration when he found the ghost-repelling charm he’d been holding onto.
“Oh, come on! When the ghost came for me earlier, I was so panicked that I completely forgot to use this!”
His heart was heavy with regret. He could’ve survived—if only he’d slapped that charm onto the ghost, he might have made it out alive!
The chat, well aware of the charm but unwilling to spoil the fun earlier, erupted with laughter as they watched Ji Yu realize his mistake.
[Here’s a scary story: Fish General’s memory lasts only seven seconds.]
[Hahaha! How dare you mock Fish General? Do you think he’s an ordinary fish? 😂]
A snicker came from beside him. Ji Yu shot a deadpan glare at Liu Yuling.
She quickly wiped the smile off her face and adopted a straight-laced demeanor, whispering to Ye Yuxi as if nothing had happened.
Watching the playful comments floating around her, Ji Yu could tell she was on the verge of breaking into laughter but was doing her best to keep it together. Left with no outlet for his irritation, he just sulked.
Wang Yuze, who had also forgotten about the charm in his panic, jabbed Ji Yu in the arm and complained,
“You had a ghost-repelling charm? Why didn’t you pull it out earlier? I was scared half to death!”
Ji Yu, already simmering, exploded at once. “You forgot too! And weren’t you the one boasting about how you could chat up ghosts? I should’ve known better than to believe your nonsense!”
Seeing the two “plastic brothers” about to get into a full-blown argument, Ye Yuxi sighed helplessly.
“Alright, alright, stop stealing the show from the lifestyle streamers. Our viewers aren’t here for a fight. It’s time to pick the next task.”
As soon as she said that, everyone turned to look at her.
Ye Yuxi: Huh? Why are you all looking at me?
Then she glanced at the LCD screen behind her and suddenly understood.
They want me to choose the mission?
Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea.
She’d already developed some sympathy for this misfortune-prone team—especially its “soul” player, General Yu. Out of the goodness of her heart, she decided to pick the simplest one-star mission available.
With that in mind, she selected a Western-style mansion.
If her guess was correct, the mansion should contain classic American-style slasher monsters—bloody but tangible, and at least not the intangible, spectral ghosts they’d been dealing with.
For the interstellar people, this kind of thing was probably no scarier than the monsters they used to fight in their old games. They shouldn’t be too frightened, right?
At this moment, Ye Yuxi hadn’t realized yet that the core of a horror game might be ghosts or monsters, but equally critical were the map design and soundtrack.
The fear her games evoked wasn’t solely due to the innovation of introducing ghosts—it also had a lot to do with her “hellish” maps and “hellish” soundtracks.
This Western-style mansion was quite different from the previous two houses.
The earlier houses had a certain minimalist charm—in simple terms, the first floors were almost bare, allowing players to quickly move up to the second floor.
But this mansion’s first floor clearly carried most of the house’s functionality. There was a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, and even a separate bathroom and bedroom.
As a result, their search took a lot more effort.
To Ji Yu, however, this journey seemed to be going much more smoothly.
No ambushes at the door, no sudden attacks upon opening a door.
As they turned on lights along the way, Ji Yu almost felt like they were playing a light-switch simulator.
This sense of ease lasted right up until the moment he opened the door to one particular room on the first floor—
The instant the door opened, he slammed it shut with a loud bang.
“What’s wrong?” Wang Yuze, who had been following Ji Yu closely to prevent any mishaps, immediately looked over.
Ji Yu’s face was pale.
“I… I think I saw a shadow in there when I opened the door. I’m not sure. Let me check again.”
Cautiously, Ji Yu cracked the door open once more.
Wang Yuze, on the other hand, strode boldly inside.
“Hey, can you be a bit more careful?”
Ji Yu was both angry and envious of him. He couldn’t understand how, despite both of them being scared out of their wits earlier, Wang Yuze had managed to recover so quickly and was now fully embracing his role as the “reckless entertainer” of the stream. Meanwhile, Ji Yu himself was still on edge.
The only explanation was that Wang Yuze was probably just a natural-born daredevil.
Ignoring Ji Yu, Wang Yuze quickly entered the room, grabbed the shadowy figure near the door, shook it, and then turned around with a laugh.
“It’s just a giant doll! How could you be scared of this?”
Ji Yu squinted at it. Sure enough, it was just a large doll about a meter tall.
Blushing slightly, he turned on the room’s light and muttered, “It was too dark, okay? I couldn’t tell. Is this a nursery or something?”
Indeed, it appeared to be a baby’s room.
The ceiling was adorned with a starry night design, the walls were decorated with cheerful and childlike patterns, and beside the large doll, there was even a cradle.
Standing closer to the cradle, Wang Yuze casually glanced inside.
His expression instantly froze.
Seeing him fall silent, Ji Yu grew uneasy.
“What’s wrong? Is there something in the cradle?”
As he spoke, Ji Yu walked over.
It was only then that Wang Yuze snapped out of it and waved his hand frantically. “Wait! Don’t come any closer—”
But it was too late. In just a few steps, Ji Yu was already at the cradle. What he saw made his face turn ghostly pale.
Inside the cradle wasn’t a baby, but a doll the size of an infant.
The doll’s skin, made of some unknown material, appeared soft and lifelike, as if it would give way to the slightest touch. It had glossy honey-colored curls and blue eyes that bulged slightly, staring unblinkingly at the two living players.
The sudden sight of it left an indescribable sense of unease.
…Perhaps because the doll looked too much like a real child, yet retained subtle, unsettlingly inhuman features.
Before leaving the room, Ji Yu couldn’t help but glance back at the cradle.
What he didn’t know was that after the two of them had left, the cradle began to rock gently.
A soft giggle echoed from within.