Then... Who Is He

"The matches got soaked? Could it be a water ghost?"

"Not necessarily. The records say lighting too many lanterns can anger evil spirits and ruin ignition tools... We need to find the cabinet where the matches are stored."

"How are we supposed to find anything in this pitch-black darkness...?"

"Ow, damn it! Watch where you're going!!"

"Let me handle it. I'll lead the way—just follow me!"

...

The darkness in this illusion was even more oppressive than in the horror games of his past life.

In Phasmophobia Town, each person could only carry four items.

This was the first time the four of them had entered the illusion, and they had no idea what to bring. Mu Yawen had come empty-handed...

So the other three had each brought different items.

Their only source of light was the dim glow of the spirit lantern.

Mu Yawen, the bravest of them, volunteered to carry it at the front.

Zhou Yue followed behind, with Zhou Qiaoling third and Zhong Yi bringing up the rear.

By the time the light reached Zhou Qiaoling, it was already too faint to see clearly, forcing her to clutch Zhou Yue’s sleeve.

The four of them inched forward, searching the room for the cabinet holding dry matches.

After circling the room once, they still hadn’t found it.

"I think there’s a basement... Maybe it’s down there."

Zhong Yi, at the back of the group, suggested.

"Got it!"

Mu Yawen immediately turned around.

"Ugh, my sanity dropped again... It’s already at 65!! I feel so uneasy—is it just my imagination...?"

Zhou Qiaoling’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

"No, probably not... Junior Brother Lu must have set up some high-level formation in the illusion. When sanity drops, we become more sensitive to our surroundings..."

Zhong Yi quickly chimed in.

"Every 10-point drop changes how we perceive things... And according to the records, evil spirits feed on fear. If sanity gets too low, it might attract deadly consequences."

"Ahhh!! Senior Brother Zhong, stop talking! You’re making it even scarier!!!"

Zhou Qiaoling’s unease deepened.

Earlier, when their sanity was still around 90, the ghosts had even dared to take photos with them and helped Zhong Yi change his shoes.

But now, at 65... wouldn’t that mean...?

The more she thought about it, the more panicked she became.

In the surrounding darkness, she couldn’t shake the feeling that ghosts lurked everywhere...

"Don’t panic. Remember, the system said this is amateur difficulty... For the first five minutes, the spirits won’t hunt us."

Zhong Yi spoke faster now.

Just as he finished, a shrill screech echoed from outside.

The group froze, their steps halting in unison.

"What was that?"

"Sounded like a crow..."

"Wait!"

Zhou Yue suddenly smacked his forehead.

"How long have we been in this haunted house...?"

Zhong Yi hesitated. "I think... it’s been five minutes..."

The four held their breaths as Mu Yawen hurriedly quickened his pace.

"Ahem, don’t panic... Sanity starts at 100. We’re still above 60, so it’s not too—"

"Zhong, shut up!! The crow just cawed!!!"

"Pah, that’s definitely just Junior Brother Lu’s way of reminding us the grace period is over... Honestly, if we just find the matches—"

"Wuwu... Senior Brother Zhong, please stop. The more you talk, the scarier it gets..."

"Junior Sister Zhou, don’t worry. I’m right behind you. If anything happens, I’ll—"

"Zhong, are you freaking scared?! You’re talking way more than usual!!"

"N-no! I just—"

"Shut up! Mu found the basement entrance!!"

Zhou Yue’s shout finally silenced Zhong Yi.

Under Mu Yawen’s guidance, they descended the creaky basement stairs.

Creak... creak...

The stairs were old and worn.

Every step produced a deafening, grating noise.

In the cramped space, the echoes felt even more unsettling.

"Wow, Zhong’s actually listening for once. Didn’t think he’d stay quiet..."

Zhou Yue cleared his throat.

"Zhong, maybe you should say something. It feels weird without you..."

Even Zhong Yi’s rambling was better than the mind-numbing creaks.

But there was no response.

"Tch, come on, man. You’re not seriously sulking, are you? We’re bros—don’t give me the cold shoulder!"

Zhou Yue kept talking, unsure whether he genuinely wanted Zhong Yi to speak or just needed the noise to drown out his own fear.

"Zhong... Zhong?!"

After a few calls, Zhou Yue’s unease grew.

He whipped around, straining to see through the darkness.

The dim light only revealed vague outlines—nothing clear.

"Zhong, don’t mess with me... This isn’t funny!"

"Zhong! Say something... Zhong?!"

"Oh no—Zhong’s gone!!"

As Zhou Yue’s panic escalated, Zhou Qiaoling’s grip on his sleeve grew increasingly shaky.

"B-bro..."

Her voice was laced with tears.

"If... if Senior Brother Zhong really disappeared..."

"Then..."

"Who’s..."

"holding my sleeve?"

The moment she said it, even Mu Yawen, at the front, felt a chill crawl down his spine.

Zhou Qiaoling trembled as she slowly turned her head.

Halfway—

Haa...

A cold breath brushed against her ear.

Instantly, her mind was consumed by terror.

"AAAAAHHH!!!"

"GHOST!!! HELP!!!"

......

......

At the same time.

Zhong Yi stood alone in a cramped, pitch-black room.

Four wooden doors lined the walls—north, south, east, and west.

Staring at the countless blood-drenched hands stretching from the ceiling, he let out a bitter laugh.

"So... I’ve run into a ghost wall."

He had already tried the east and west doors.

Each time, he’d step through only to return to the same spot.

And with every failed attempt, the bloody hands above him descended further.

The closer they got, the more violently they writhed.

As if sensing prey, they even whispered maddening murmurs.

"One more mistake... and those hands will reach me."

Watching the black blood drip from the ceiling, Zhong Yi narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to stay calm and analyze the situation.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined—

A Nascent Soul cultivator like him, trapped by something as trivial as a ghost wall.

"No... Junior Brother Lu wouldn’t design an unsolvable puzzle."

Shaking his head, he searched for a way out.

His gaze landed on a bronze mirror resting on a dilapidated table.

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