The Haunted Game Designer

"First, Dad and Mom came home every night, filling the house with parents. Then someone inexplicably started calling me 'husband.' I just passed through a tunnel on the Ghost Festival, so how does it feel like I've suddenly gathered the whole family?"

Watching Xuan Wen's figure fade into the distance, Gao Ming's face was pale. He could now confirm that Xuan Wen, like the parents who had brought him cake, was something "unknown" in disguise.

"Xuan Wen not only knows what happened in the tunnel, but she also guessed I would come to Night Lamp to delete the game."

Once Xuan Wen's figure disappeared down the corridor, Gao Ming's expression returned to normal, and the fat cat came back to life, curling up behind him.

"The heavy rain has blocked the roads. If I want answers now, it seems I can only ask Xuan Wen." Gao Ming calmed down again. "But the difference between Xuan Wen and my parents is significant. She seems completely unrestricted, able to move freely through the city during the day..."

"Fortune! How did you end up here?" Wei Dayou picked up the fat cat with one hand, cuddling it while joking with Gao Ming. "Gao Ming, why don't you just stay? Look, Fortune can't bear to part with you."

"It's not that it can't bear to leave me—it's just more concerned about staying alive." It was Gao Ming's first time seeing a cat play dead—remaining perfectly still no matter what happened outside. "Dayou, I know you're a good person, so I'll remind you one last time—don't go out after dark, and stay away from that new colleague. There's something very wrong with her."

"I've seen the news too. I know things aren't peaceful in Han Hai lately. Don't worry, take care of yourself. If you need anything, just call me. We've been partners for so many years, after all." Ignoring the little creature's fierce struggle, Wei Dayou carried Fortune back to the office.

The fat cat clawed at the glass door with both paws, wailing at Gao Ming outside, looking utterly miserable.

"Follow me, and you'll see what true hell looks like." Gao Ming smiled bitterly. "This cat has a bit of a brain—but not much."

Leaving the Night Lamp studio, Gao Ming didn't go home. Instead, he went to the bus station, staring at the city map marked with various routes.

Han Hai was a very special city, consisting of nineteen districts. The most prosperous East District housed wealthy people from all over the world—modern, dreamy, offering luxuries beyond the imagination of ordinary people. Meanwhile, the old district where Gao Ming lived felt like another world entirely—dense, oppressive apartment buildings packed tightly together, making it hard to breathe just walking through them.

Han Hai rose from the chaos of war a century ago, serving as a refuge for politicians, merchants, and refugees—embracing all kinds of people. With its unique advantages, it became one of the world's three major free ports. However, under the impact of the intelligent and biological revolutions, this once glorious city had now reached a crossroads.

But none of that mattered to Gao Ming. His eyes scanned the dense bus stops, his mind flashing through one horrific crime after another—grisly murders and bizarre urban legends.

"The Butcher Case, the Cat Doll Dismemberment Case, the Sex Maniac Case, the Corpse Dissolution Case, the Red Pavilion Cannibalism Case, the Dog Pit Case, the Sunken Corpse Case..." His eyelid twitched. The crimes in his mind seemed to cover the entire city. Even scarier, beyond the crimes, he'd seen countless eerie stories and horror movies.

"Borrowed Lifespan, Flesh Immortal, Hanging Man, Night of Returning Souls, Skin Exchange Parlor, Headless Doctor, Man-Eating Elevator... too many to count—too many!"

From hospitals, schools, and malls to stairwells, elevators, under beds, and drawers—every corner of the city had a corresponding nightmare in Gao Ming's mind.

"According to Xuan Wen, all the nightmares in my mind have become reality. It's not just about the game—any mystery or supernatural story could manifest in this city."

As much as he hated to admit it, Gao Ming felt that he alone had triggered the apocalypse.

"That unknown world's entities seem to be able to evolve countless horrors from my memories, merging with this city."

The sky was overcast, the clouds pressing lower and lower. The city seemed like a prisoner with its neck gripped tightly, about to die in agony under the weight of its sins.

Standing at the bus stop, watching the rain pour down the streets, Gao Ming's face was grim. "If I were the kind of guy with nothing but smut on his mind, none of this crap would be happening."

Xuan Wen was clearly abnormal, yet she seemed capable of offering clues—something Gao Ming desperately needed now.

At 5:30 p.m., Xuan Wen emerged from the office building, holding a red umbrella. It was as if she'd foreseen that Gao Ming hadn't left. Smiling, she walked up to the bus stop.

"Have you been waiting for me all this time?"

"I just haven't decided which bus to take home."

"Shall we go together then?" Xuan Wen held the umbrella between them and tilted her head to look at Gao Ming. Her gaze revealed affection, but it was somewhat distorted—like a collector admiring a priceless piece of art or a person with peculiar habits finding strange satisfaction.

When the bus arrived, Gao Ming waited for Xuan Wen to get on and take a seat before standing alone at the back of the bus.

An hour later, they arrived back in the old district.

Looking at the cluster of buildings before him, Gao Ming felt an even stronger urge to distance himself from the woman beside him.

Lijing Apartments consisted of four buildings arranged in a grid. Xuan Wen lived in the building directly opposite Gao Ming's. If one were to speculate boldly, it wouldn't be surprising if Xuan Wen had already been secretly watching him for the past few days.

"Don't misunderstand—those recent murders near Lijing Apartments have nothing to do with me," Xuan Wen's voice was slightly muffled by the heavy rain. "Honestly, I've been living in constant fear these past few days."

"So, to stop being afraid, you got rid of the threats?" Gao Ming hadn't been thinking about the murders at all, but Xuan Wen's remark suddenly brought Lin's warning back to his mind.

During the three days he had been trapped in his apartment, many "things" had already "spread."

Passing through the apartment courtyard, Gao Ming and Xuan Wen entered Building Two.

As they reached the third floor, they saw an old woman burning paper in the corridor. The brazier was filled with the ashes of burned spirit money, and she kept muttering to herself while bowing repeatedly toward a framed memorial photo beside the brazier.

The elderly woman had a full head of silver hair, but the man in the memorial photo appeared to be only in his forties. It was odd—an older person mourning and bowing to a younger one.

"Her adopted son committed suicide three days ago," Xuan Wen stopped and explained. "According to the neighbors, he was a kind and honest man, hardworking and selfless. Despite having no blood relation to the old woman, he treated her family as his own and took care of them."

"What we see is often just the surface. Quiet people may have more on their minds than we realize," Gao Ming said. He had seen the old woman's adopted son in the courtyard before. His name was Zhao, and he was always friendly, often seen with his phone in hand while cleaning the apartment's public restrooms.

Brother Zhao always had a smile on his face, but to Gao Ming, it had always seemed forced.

As someone who worked in psychological counseling, Gao Ming had occasionally chatted with Brother Zhao downstairs. But since last month, he hadn't seen him in the courtyard again.

After bowing toward the memorial photo, Gao Ming followed Xuan Wen up to the fifth floor.

Clotheslines were haphazardly strung across the hallway, dangerously close to exposed electrical wires. Various garments hung on them, appearing dull and lifeless, their grayish-white hues blending into the gloomy surroundings. Even without wind, they swayed slightly.

The corridor was lined with old, rust-covered iron doors. The yellowish-brown door frames clashed eerily with the bright red couplets pasted on them, making even the traditional "fortune" characters in the center seem unsettling.

"We're here."

Xuan Wen took out a key and unlocked the door to apartment 2507. But Gao Ming hesitated, reluctant to step inside.

2507 had belonged to the old woman's adopted son. Three days ago, Brother Zhao had jumped from this apartment's balcony.

"You rented the deceased's place? His first seven days aren't even over yet."

Gao Ming suddenly recalled a scene from a game he had once designed—where an ordinary protagonist played a séance game with his deceased wife in a haunted house, secretly watching his own death replayed on video.

(End of Chapter)

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