Horror Game Designer

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

“Stop! Don’t touch that rice – it’s an offering for the deceased!”

In a state of panic, Gao Ming dashed towards Wan Qiu, intent on stopping him. However, displaying a surprising strength, Xuan Wen grabbed Gao Ming, effectively restraining him from moving further.

Wan Qiu, his lips smeared with a haunting shade of red, shifted uneasily, agony etched across his face. His neck spasmed violently as a horrifying mixture of blood and half-chewed rice spilled from his mouth. “You… you all…” he stammered, his voice barely more than a garbled whisper, his expression a constantly shifting tableau of pain and confusion.

The room was charged with a palpable eeriness. Heavy curtains billowed in the cold, intrusive wind while scraps of ceremonial joss paper drifted to the floor. The walls and ceiling bore the marks of age and neglect, cracked and peeling, giving the impression of insects scuttling in the shadows.

Amidst this chilling ambiance, Wan Qiu spoke again, his voice quivering with emotion, reminiscent of an elderly person overcome with sorrow, “Ahead, a tiger awaits; behind, a ghost lurks. Neither the heavens answer, nor the earth offers its blessings…” His words seemed to carry a deeper, more ominous message as if something within the room was attempting to communicate through him to Gao Ming and Xuan Wen.

“Ghosts prey on humans, humans consume flesh, and flesh in turn devours ghosts,” Wan Qiu rambled incoherently, his mouth a gruesome sight, his lips torn and bloodied. Despite the horrific injury, he continued to speak in nonsensical phrases. This eerie scene escalated as the round table in the room began to shake violently, culminating in bowls of pristine white rice crashing to the floor in disarray.

“In consuming, you might yet live…” These cryptic words were the last Wan Qiu uttered before collapsing. Gao Ming, no longer held back, rushed to his side to assist him.

In the meantime, Xuan Wen, curiosity piqued, ventured into an adjoining room, which had been converted into a makeshift shrine. There, memorial tablets and portraits of eight individuals, presumably deceased, were arranged with solemn respect. In their black-and-white photographs, their eyes appeared unnervingly open, as if fixated on the chaotic scene at the table.

“These must be the victims of that horrific mass family murder,” Xuan Wen observed, noting the still-burning incense sticks. “Has someone been continuously honoring them?”

The sound of the shattering rice bowls echoed ominously, prompting Gao Ming to worry that it might attract unwanted attention. He hoisted Wan Qiu up, intent on making a swift exit.

As they pushed open the door to leave, the metal entrance door unexpectedly swung open, colliding with an approaching figure.

“Don’t be alarmed! It’s not what you think!” exclaimed Wu Bo, oddly overdressed for the warm weather, with worn talismans peeling off his clothes.

“Why are you here?” Gao Ming questioned, taken aback by the sudden appearance.

“There’s no time to explain – we need to get out of here, now!” Wu Bo urged them, hastily leading the way through the dimly lit corridor of the fifth floor, skillfully navigating a gap in the railing to make their escape to Building B.

Catching his breath, Wu Bo collapsed to the floor, “You’re braver than I thought. Are you aware of the number of murders that have taken place in Building A on Sishui Street? That place is haunted!”

Gao Ming, crouching beside Wu Bo, countered, “But you’re always in and out of there. Those memorial portraits – you’re the one who’s been keeping up the rites for them, aren’t you? What’s your connection to the victims of that family massacre?”

“Purchase these protective talismans from me, and I’ll share what I know,” Wu Bo offered after a brief pause, a hint of business-like seriousness in his tone. “It’s like buying a safeguard against disasters. You can trust my services.”

Gao Ming, short on cash but high on curiosity, struck a temporary deal, “I’m a bit strapped for cash at the moment. Let’s consider it a credit transaction. I’ll pay you as soon as I can.” With that, he ‘borrowed’ three uniquely crafted talismans from Wu Bo. Each talisman was intricately folded into a triangle, pierced through with a red thread, and contained fragments of photographs, giving them an eerie, almost mystical appearance.

“You’d better honor your debt,” Wu Bo warned, patting his tattered coat for emphasis as he rose to his feet. “You know, I was a security guard in Building A. I was on duty the night that horrific family slaughter took place.”

Curiosity piqued, Gao Ming inquired, “What did you witness?”

“Even before that tragic night, Building A was shrouded in unsettling tales. Many residents, spooked by the rumors, resorted to sticking talismans around their homes for a sense of protection and peace. For most, it was just a psychological crutch, but for some, it turned into an obsession.”

Gao Ming, connecting the dots, asked, “Was the perpetrator of the family massacre one of these talisman-obsessed individuals?”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

Wu Bo nodded, his lips dry and cracking with tension, “Exactly. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Flesh Immortal?”

Gao Ming’s face betrayed a flicker of recognition, but he quickly shook his head in denial.

“Good. It’s better you don’t know. Don’t trust the rumors. Belief can give life to legends, while skepticism can make them fade away.” In extinguishing his cigarette, Wu Bo continued, “In Building A, there are two kinds of spirits: malevolent and benevolent. The talismans I gave you are designed to discern between them.”

“How do they function?”

“If you encounter a spirit, use the talisman. A benevolent ghost will let you pass unharmed, but a malevolent one will consume you whole.” Wu Bo’s face was a canvas of earnestness, as though he had witnessed such horrors firsthand. “I’ve told you what I know. Remember to pay me.”

“Earlier, outside, you mentioned we wouldn’t survive the night. Did you see something?”

“Everyone who got out of that black car at night vanished without a trace. That’s why I assumed you’d meet the same fate.” Despite his crazed appearance, Wu Bo’s words carried a sharp, calculating edge.

“The black car belongs to the Investigation Bureau. Have you seen other investigators around the building? They wear a standard uniform.” Gao Ming probed further, eager for more insights. “Don’t worry, the Bureau is rife with internal divisions. I’m not associated with those who came before.”

Wu Bo hesitated, wrestling with whether to reveal more, “There’s something I’m unsure about sharing… After the hauntings began in Building A, those investigators didn’t quell them. Instead, they’ve been bringing various objects into the building. I suspect… it’s not the building that’s haunted, but rather someone has chosen this place to cultivate spirits.”

As they spoke, a sudden vibrating sound emanated from beneath Gao Ming’s sleeve, the noise of his black ring alarm. Startled, Wu Bo clamped his hand over his mouth, hastily extinguishing his cigarette. With a look of apprehension, he quickly retreated, leaving Gao Ming to ponder his enigmatic words.

Gao Ming’s attention shifted to the black ring on his finger, which had just vibrated with a new mission alert from the Hanhai Investigation Bureau. The message was clear and urgent: all investigators with experience in handling Level 3 paranormal events were being urgently summoned to Sishui Street in the Eastern District. The situation at Sishui Apartments had deteriorated to a critical level, necessitating an all-out response, regardless of the cost. “Is tonight the final showdown for everyone involved?”

The fact that Gao Ming, a newcomer to the Bureau, had also received this summons spoke volumes about the severity of the situation. The Bureau was marshaling all available forces in a determined effort to address the anomaly. Yet, the grim reality loomed large: if their efforts failed tonight, following the loss of so many lives already, the haunting tales from Sishui Apartments would likely amplify into uncontrollable terror.

“We need to get out of the apartment for now,” Gao Ming decided.

Outside, the evening was growing tense as police cars patrolled the area, setting up barricades for the impending operation.

Gao Ming joined forces with Zhu Miao Miao and Yan Hua from the restaurant and secured a private room to discuss their next steps. He quickly briefed them on the eerie occurrences inside the apartment complex.

“This paranormal event is definitely at a Level 4, if not higher, and it’s far from ordinary. The building is swarming with an array of spirits in a highly complex environment.” Gao Ming’s voice betrayed his anxiety, “Last time, I survived a Level 3 event because the ghosts were not hostile towards me. This time, our safety is far from guaranteed.”

He looked around the room, weighing his words carefully before continuing, “Think very carefully before you answer my next question.”

“Go ahead,” Xuan Wen urged, her tone suggesting she had already anticipated his question and resolved her decision.

“The likelihood of us not surviving this event is over 90%. If you’re willing to face these odds with me, stay. Anyone who prefers not to take this risk can head back to the Bureau. I won’t hold it against you.” Gao Ming’s expression softened slightly after laying out the stark reality.

To everyone’s surprise, Zhu Miao Miao was the first to respond, “I’ll stay. I’m an investigator with the Bureau. It’s my duty to confront these anomalies.”

As the group processed her decision, Xuan Wen tapped the table for attention, “Count me in too. Someone has to keep an eye on you both.”

With a frown betraying his resolve, Yan Hua cut to the chase, “Enough talk. What’s our move tonight?” His commitment was clear; the thought of leaving had never crossed his mind.

Gao Ming, concerned, pressed them, “Are you sure about this? We’re walking into a Level 4 paranormal event without proper armament, facing an unknown number of powerful entities. It’s almost like marching to our doom.”

“I’m joining too,” interjected Wan Qiu, now regaining his clarity. He grabbed Gao Ming’s wrist with a sense of urgency, “There are eight souls… they are waiting for me…” His words added another layer of solemnity to their mission.

With a unanimous decision from the group, Gao Ming finally solidified their plan, “Alright, as night falls, we’ll bypass the Bureau’s main operation and make our way in from a different side.”

In the hours leading up to their covert mission, they dedicated their time to meticulously studying every known murder case connected to Sishui Street, committing to memory the locations of all the reportedly haunted houses. Their preparation was thorough, leaving nothing to chance as they awaited the cover of darkness.

Meanwhile, the relentless downpour that had drenched the city for days was showing signs of subsiding. The skies, however, remained a brooding canvas of heavy clouds, foretelling more than just a meteorological storm.

A light drizzle gently dotted the fleet of black cars parked along the street. The area around the apartments had been completely sealed off by the authorities; people could enter, but no one was allowed to leave.

The scene was a hive of activity, with investigators dressed in the distinctive black uniforms of the Hanhai Investigation Bureau scurrying around. These were the elite operatives, specially called in for this critical operation.

While most of the city’s inhabitants were breathing a sigh of relief at the prospect of the rain’s end, yearning for clear skies, the group of investigators, hidden from the public eye, were silently converging on their target: Building A of the Sishui Apartments. The ominous building stood as a silent testament to the mysteries and horrors they were about to confront.

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