Giving Interstellar Players a Horror Ghost Game Shock - Chapter 73
As soon as An Zhi and Lu Xiaofeng selected two-player mode, the login screen in front of them changed.
An Zhi watched curiously as their perspective slowly zoomed in on the Yin-Yang Road, hidden within the campus. The movement started off slow but gradually picked up speed. At the same time, the ordinary-looking road began to transform.
The locust trees lining the path seemed to come to life, their branches swaying even though there was no wind. The rustling sound filled the air, and then, something eerie happened—the single path inexplicably split into two.
The left path was well-lit with street lamps, warm and inviting. They could even hear students chatting and laughing in the distance.
The right path, however, was pitch black, illuminated only by the moon. Strangely, it was completely silent. The cheerful voices from the left seemed to hit an invisible sound barrier, unable to reach the other side.
A deep, mechanical voice echoed in their ears.
“Please proceed through the right path to officially enter Wenhe University.”
An Zhi studied the forked paths with interest. This was an intriguing way to start a game. The more she saw, the more curious she became.
She turned to call Lu Xiaofeng, only to find that he was already trembling.
Lu Xiaofeng looked utterly miserable.
What kind of hellish opening was this?!
Forcing players to walk down the obviously haunted path while placing a bright, safe road right next to it for contrast? Were they trying to make sure that any scaredy-cats quit before the main story even began? Was this a filtering mechanism to weed out anyone who lacked the guts to continue?!
First of all, he wanted to clarify—he wasn’t always this much of a coward! He used to strut through dark alleys without a second thought!
But ever since playing that damned Campus Nightmare, he couldn’t set foot in a dark place without getting paranoid. Even going to the bathroom at night made him feel like a ghost might be waiting for him inside!
Nope. Not happening.
He made up his mind—he was going to escape!
“S.. Senior A-An Zhi, I suddenly… really need to use the bathroom. Maybe I should log off for a bit—”
Under An Zhi’s amused stare, his voice grew weaker and weaker until it completely faded.
An Zhi grabbed him by the arm and dragged him toward the dark path.
“Our neural interfaces are linked to the game. You literally can’t feel stuff like that in here. Who are you trying to fool? Just help me clear the demo, and then you can log off whenever you want!”
Thankfully, Ye Yuxi wasn’t too cruel.
The moment they stepped onto the silent path, everything went black—and then, the scene abruptly changed.
A deathly pale face suddenly appeared less than half a meter away, its neck stretching forward until it was almost touching theirs!
“Hey!”
“AHHH!”
Lu Xiaofeng let out a terrified yelp, shut his eyes, and swung a punch with all his strength—
—only to have his fist caught mid-air by a much stronger hand.
He froze in terror, struggling desperately until he heard An Zhi’s irritated voice:
“Stop flailing around!”
Wait… If this was a real enemy, shouldn’t she be more aggressive? Why did she have the spare energy to stop him?
Realizing something was off, Lu Xiaofeng hesitantly opened one eye—
—only to see a round-faced girl with freckles on her nose staring at him in shock, as if she were the one who got scared instead.
A few seconds passed before she forced a stiff smile and awkwardly laughed into the camera.
“Hahaha… everyone, it looks like our cameraman is a bit on edge today…”
…Cameraman? Him?
Even if Lu Xiaofeng was slow, he finally understood—he had already entered the game as a character.
Feeling a bit awkward, he scratched the back of his head.
“So… she’s on our side? Senior An Zhi, how did you figure it out so fast?”
An Zhi’s expression turned even more exasperated.
“It was in the trailer. This exact scene was shown, and the NPC looks the same. How did you not recognize it?”
She had stopped him just in time before he punched an NPC.
Even though An Zhi had never played games before, she had seen enough to know that in story-driven games, attacking NPCs usually wasn’t a good idea.
No matter what she did, she always aimed for perfection.
Even in a game, if she was going to play, she was going to clear it in one go.
She absolutely would not fail because of a dumb teammate!
Lu Xiaofeng forced a bitter smile.
He didn’t even dare to tell An Zhi the truth—he had never actually watched the trailer. It was only meant for her…
While An Zhi was full of confidence, she was dragging along a half-useless teammate. She carefully gathered all the information she could, listening to the NPCs’ conversations, and finally managed to understand the situation.
Including the two of them, there were a total of six people—four NPCs, two males and two females.
Right now, they were all members of Wenhe University’s Paranormal Research Club.
Although it was just a college club, every member was quick-witted and fearless, always willing to risk their necks for the thrill of ghost hunting. Thanks to their recklessness and round-faced girl Ah Yuan’s leadership, their club’s public account had already amassed over 100,000 followers, making them a well-known paranormal livestreaming team.
“There’s an old saying: If you live by the mountains, rely on the mountains. If you live by the sea, rely on the sea.”
When the camera panned to the two male NPCs, Ah Yuan proudly boasted about her business skills to the two players.
“Looking back now, my decision was absolutely right! In just two years of college, we’ve already outperformed more than 80% of our peers!”
An Zhi, of course, wasn’t actually a club member. Since she wouldn’t get a cut of the profits, she didn’t feel excited at all.
But she did find that old saying quite interesting.
“If you live by the mountains, rely on the mountains. If you live by the sea, rely on the sea… That’s a good one.”
The more she thought about it, the more it made sense—far more than the lofty, empty words teachers often preached.
Lu Xiaofeng, on the other hand, completely ignored the saying.
He was busy studying the camera. Unfortunately, he had drawn the photographer role, so he had to figure out how to use the equipment first.
But after hearing Ah Yuan’s words, his mind started spiraling, and his face grew paler and paler.
“W-wait… did you just say Wenhe University has a lot of paranormal stories? Like… for example?”
Ah Yuan gave him a puzzled look.
Then, noticing the camera in his hands, she suddenly understood and grinned knowingly.
“Ohhh, I see! You’re setting up for the livestream effect, right? Turn on the recording first!”
Lu Xiaofeng fumbled with the controls and finally got it running.
Only then did Ah Yuan clear her throat, flashing a bright, playful smile.
“Wenhe University has tons of ghost stories! Like the senior girl under the willow tree by North Lake, the spirit board in the West-13 girls’ dorm, the floating head playing basketball in the South Courtyard, and the bone soup hotpot on the East Street corner…”
As Ah Yuan rattled off one terrifying story after another, her tone as casual as reading a menu, Lu Xiaofeng’s face turned completely white. He couldn’t even force a laugh anymore.
Wait, hold on—what is wrong with Wenhe University?!
Other places had one haunted landmark, like May Bridge in May University.
But Wenhe? North, South, East, West—they had ghosts everywhere!
Lu Xiaofeng suddenly remembered—Miss Ye’s games were all set in ancient Earth, right?
Did ancient Earth’s universities really have so many ghost stories?!
Every direction had its own ghost stories, yet students still actively went looking for them?!
Compared to this, the interstellar era suddenly seemed ridiculously safe. Sure, people were hot-tempered, but at least most of them valued their lives. There weren’t this many creepy legends, and even if there were, people knew to stay away!
But these students? They were diving straight into danger like it was a theme park!
“…Of course, none of those compare to the most famous, most unique, and most terrifying ghost story in all of Wenhe University—”
At some point, Ah Yuan’s voice had turned eerie and low.
She raised her hand and pointed forward, as if her finger could pierce through the classroom walls—straight to the forbidden path beyond.
“—The Yin-Yang Road!”
“No time to waste! Let’s head out now!”