Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 65
As soon as those words appeared in the chat, some viewers immediately searched for what seemed to be a randomly generated new account.
About two minutes later, someone returned with a link.
[No need for words, guys—this is the real deal. He makes dodging ghosts look like walking a dog.]
Ye Yuxi’s sharp eyes instantly caught onto the key phrase: dodging ghosts. Without hesitation, she followed the crowd and clicked on the link.
M612879…
She read the username aloud, feeling a strange sense of familiarity—like she had seen it somewhere before.
It wasn’t until she clicked into the user’s profile and saw the extremely half-hearted avatar and banner that a faint memory resurfaced.
This person had left some high-quality comments during a Campus Nightmare stream before. Their insights were sharp, and their profile screamed “alt account,” which had left a slight impression on her.
With her experience, Ye Yuxi could easily guess that this person was probably a fellow game developer. That realization made her a little emotional.
After all, she’d been dragged down by competitors before. But this person wasn’t trying to discredit her—instead, they seemed to follow every single one of her games. Could it be…
Had they been completely captivated by her games but were too embarrassed to use their main account to express their admiration, so they resorted to a side account instead?
A bit flustered but mostly proud, Ye Yuxi couldn’t help but grin. Well, well… looks like I’m the kind of game dev that even my peers can’t help but respect!
With that thought, she cheerfully clicked into the user’s one and only video.
The moment the video started, the screen showed exactly what she expected—a completely generic, uncustomized character model.
In an era where co-op gaming was all the rage, this player was one of the very few who didn’t choose the four-player mode.
He didn’t even bother queuing for matchmaking—he just went straight into solo mode.
[Damn, this guy’s built different! He just walks into that creepy house all alone like it’s nothing?!]
[Right? I can’t even bring myself to explore rooms when there’s less than one person with me…]
The nameless player held a flashlight, methodically sweeping through the house with insane efficiency, keeping no more than three lights on at a time. He managed to fully explore the entire building in record time—without triggering a single ghost event.
Once he had the layout memorized, he calmly sat down in front of a mirror and started the summoning ritual as required by the mission.
Seconds later, the temperature plummeted. A layer of frost formed over the floor.
And then—
A ghost suddenly lunged from the mirror, its sickly gray-blue hand clawing toward him!
But the player, as if expecting it, simply flipped backward in a smooth, effortless motion, dodging the attack with ease.
Then, without missing a beat, he sprinted toward the door—ghost hot on his heels.
Yet no matter how the ghost tried to cut him off, whether by phasing through walls or teleporting ahead, this guy always seemed to know where it would appear. With every sudden shift, he instantly changed directions and dodged perfectly.
The chat exploded with “6666” spam as more viewers poured in to watch the insane display of skill.
And then—just when the ghost teleported right in front of the staircase to block his escape, he did something wild.
Without breaking stride, he vaulted over the stair railing with one smooth motion, barely brushing past the ghost’s shadow as he landed on the first floor.
The most absurd part?
As he was flipping over the railing, he casually raised the camera in his other hand, twisted mid-air, and—
Click!
A crisp camera shutter sound.
A perfect shot of the ghost.
Then, without even a glance back, he hit the ground running, disappearing into the hallway.
[Holy—!! I have no words. I’m just gonna scream WTF across the world!]
[Bro, is this guy a parkour pro?! I wanna learn this too!]
[Nah, forget parkour—this level of movement? This guy has to be military-trained. If he weren’t an active-duty soldier, I’d start asking for his unit number!]
[I’m crying. I’m a military school student too, so why do I always end up getting chased like a dog?]
[Same here. If you give the ghost a leash, it could walk me around all day…]
[Meanwhile, if you give this M guy a leash, he’d be the one walking the ghost all day! LOL, we’ll never understand the joy of being a pro. This has to be the most insane ghost-dodging in the entire game, right?]
Ye Yuxi had been laughing nonstop up until that last comment. Suddenly, she straightened up in her chair.
“Tsk, you guys just haven’t seen enough. Back in my day, I used to dodge ghosts like I was walking a dog too! This guy? He’s still got a long way to go before he can claim the top spot!”
“Also, where’s that guy who hyped this up as ‘close-range ghost dodging’? This doesn’t look that close to me.”
But before she could finish her complaint, the last two minutes of the video delivered exactly that—a masterclass in up-close ghost dodging.
Just as the player managed to shake off the previous ghost and was about to take a breather, another one suddenly burst out from a vase in the living room. Its trigger? Simply standing in the room for too long.
The moment the ghost shattered the vase and lunged at him, the player instinctively dashed to the other side of the coffee table, narrowly avoiding the first strike.
And just like that, an intense game of cat and mouse around the coffee table began.
Ye Yuxi stared, dumbfounded, as the player and the ghost chased each other in circles—round and round the table they went.
Every time the ghost tried to pull a surprise attack by suddenly switching directions, the player somehow preemptively turned the other way, as if he could see it coming.
At this point, it was unclear who was actually chasing who.
[Clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise, counterclockwise…]
[Wait, someone’s actually counting??]
[They’re having so much fun! Now I kinda want to join in too.]
[Don’t even think about it. If you joined, it wouldn’t be a two-person game anymore—it’d just be the ghost murdering you on sight.]
[I just wanna know… how is he predicting every single move the ghost makes? And most importantly—how is he not dizzy after all those spins? I’m getting motion sickness just watching!]
Ye Yuxi’s lips twitched. She really wanted to laugh.
If only interstellar history hadn’t been erased, the chat would probably be flooded with comments about “Qin Shi Huang running circles around pillars1.”
Sorry, ancestors, but I need to laugh at this first.
Pfft.
But despite the humor, Ye Yuxi quickly realized—this guy wasn’t just running in circles for fun.
Even though it looked like he could keep this up all day, he clearly had no intention of wasting time.
With every lap around the coffee table, his steps subtly widened, shifting outward bit by bit. The ghost, stuck following a fixed AI pattern, didn’t seem to notice.
By the time the player’s path had expanded all the way to the back of the couch, he suddenly used it as cover, then bolted out of the house in one swift move.
The video ended with a shot of his in-game status screen back inside the RV car’s command center.
「Stamina: 45
Sanity: 45」
The video was over, which meant no more live chat. Viewers, still hyped, immediately flooded the comment section instead.
[?? He ran that much, and his stamina only dropped by 5??]
[Wait, his sanity only went down by 5?! Is he even human? Does he not feel fear?!]
Among the waves of awestruck comments, the legendary M player himself suddenly appeared and replied.
M612879: Dodging ghosts isn’t that hard. Honestly, this game isn’t even scary to me.
Oh?
Ye Yuxi narrowed her eyes, a sharp glint flashing in them.
Now that’s some big talk.