Horror Game Designer

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

In a sudden turn of events, Qi Yan – the Rainy Night Murderer – found himself face-to-face with Gao Ming, whose eyes were red and filled with an intense fury.

“A fellow compatriot…?” Qi Yan barely had time to utter these words in disbelief.

Before Qi Yan could fully grasp the situation, Gao Ming, fueled by anger, relentlessly struck him with a brick. The first, second, and third blows landed with frightening precision.

Qi Yan, his vision partially obscured by the hood of his raincoat, was caught completely off guard. He hadn’t anticipated an ambush, especially not one so violent and sudden. He crashed to the ground in shock and confusion.

As he tried to gather his senses and fight back, Gao Ming forced a handful of pills into Qi Yan’s mouth. The world around Qi Yan started spinning. He couldn’t tell if it was the effect of the pills or a concussion.

“You…” he managed to utter, his mind in a whirl.

“Old habits die hard!” Gao Ming was about to strike again, but he paused, suddenly realizing a critical detail. He wasn’t sure if Qi Yan was guilty of murder at this point in time yet. Accidentally killing Qi Yan now could unravel a complex web of consequences.

Gao Ming quickly dialed the police, and while waiting for them, he took a video of the subdued Qi Yan. He then woke the woman who lived alone in the unit. She was horrified to discover two men outside her window. Too frightened to open the door to Gao Ming, she instead offered a rope through her security net.

With expertise, Gao Ming tied Qi Yan up, amazed at how his knot-tying skills mirrored those he had used before.

Gao Ming reflected on his actions, “Because I left the shadow world early and completed that game which deepened family bonds, I inadvertently saved several potential victims of the Rainy Night Murderer. Every restart brings a new world, where everything changes except me.”

He believed in the power of choice and the importance of living fully: “If the future can be chosen, live boldly; otherwise, it’s a disservice to the ashes of the past.”

Undeterred by the risk of falling from grace, Gao Ming was confident in his ability to catch himself. He discarded the brick, tucked his gloves into his pocket, and headed towards Building No. 2, aiming for Zhao Xi’s home.

Arriving at Zhao Xi’s door, Gao Ming didn’t hesitate to knock loudly.

“Brother Zhao! It’s Gao Ming from Building No. 4! I have something crucial to tell you!”

“Please open up! Brother Zhao! Zhao Xi!”

He pounded on the door, knowing Zhao Xi was struggling with guilt and sorrow, isolating himself from the world.

“Zhao Xi! Please open the door!”

Gao Ming stepped back, readying himself for a forceful entry.

“Your presence matters, and many people rely on you! They’re all waiting!”

He charged forward, ready to kick down the security door; however, it was then that the gate swung open, causing him to nearly collide with the dining table inside.

“Gao Ming?” Zhao Xi said with a wry voice. The man looked terribly gaunt, dressed in thin clothes, with deep dark circles under his eyes and chapped lips. It was evident the man hadn’t been sleeping well.

Gao Ming stood up, brushing off his knees, feeling a mix of relief and concern as droplets of water from his raincoat fell to the floor. He then moved quickly to the balcony, closing the window that had been left open.

Upon realizing that Zhao Xi was still among the living, Gao Ming let out a deep breath of relief, and his gaze wandered around the living room. There, he saw Zhao Xi, a stark contrast to the image of a lifeless body he had in his mind. In Gao Ming’s thoughts, the living Zhao Xi and the imagined corpse began to merge into one haunting image.

Gao Ming knew the crucial role Zhao Xi had played in his past struggles, especially in defeating Bai Xiao who had consumed the meat. He recognized that every success he had achieved was rooted in the support and sacrifices of others like Zhao Xi.

“I should have reached out to you sooner.” With these words, Gao Ming crossed the room in swift strides and embraced Zhao Xi tightly, filled with emotion. “But it’s not too late to start now!”

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

“No, it’s not… What are you trying to do?” Zhao Xi, taken aback and filled with panic, let the paper he was holding fall to the ground.

Releasing Zhao Xi, Gao Ming bent down to pick up the fallen paper. It turned out to be Zhao Xi’s will, a document outlining his intentions to leave his modest possessions to his elderly foster mother.

“Give it to me.” Zhao Xi’s reaction was swift and protective, like a child guarding a secret as he snatched the will back.

“Brother Zhao Xi, I understand it’s difficult to change your mindset right now. You’ve been haunted by certain thoughts, but it’s not your fault. Think of it as a minor illness of the mind.” Gao Ming, trained as a psychological counselor, typically wouldn’t push his patients too hard. “You’ve been preparing for death, burdened by endless nights of torment. I’m not here to persuade you to change your mind but rather to ask you to give some time to me, the people who care about you, and yourself.”

Gao Ming then picked up another piece of paper from the table. “Since you’re contemplating facing death, why don’t we do some meaningful things together before that? Like eating your favorite food, visiting a place you love, or experiencing gratitude and other stuff.”

As he spoke, Gao Ming began doodling on the paper, listing various activities one might wish to experience before passing away. However, Zhao Xi seemed disinterested.

“I appreciate your efforts to help, but I don’t have the energy for anything right now. I’m just so tired.” With a limp, Zhao Xi moved towards the door. “You should leave.”

“You’ve dedicated everything to this family without recognition. What you need now is to break free and start living for yourself.” Gao Ming spoke with conviction. “You’ve been a support to this family for thirty years, following ten years of care from your foster mother. You owe nothing more to your family members, only to yourself. Life is precious and singular; you should pursue meaningful experiences.”

“I never had the opportunity for education, and though I’m physically strong, my leg injury limits me. I can’t keep up with what you younger people are doing. I wish I could do something significant, but I don’t feel capable.” Zhao Xi tucked his will into his pocket, a mix of resignation and bitterness in his voice. “You can’t truly understand my struggles because you’re not in my shoes.”

As Gao Ming faced Zhao Xi, he posed a thought-provoking question, “What if I told you that I can see the future, and one day, you’ll emerge as a hero, saving many people, including me? Would you believe that?” As he spoke, Gao Ming touched his chest, where blood veins seemed to be visibly pulsating, connecting his eyes to his heart in an eerie display.

“A hero, me?” Zhao Xi’s face twisted into a smile tinged with disbelief and bitterness. “You must be joking.”

“I’m not joking. The world has shifted; an unexpected event has occurred. Everyone has the potential to become extraordinary.” Gao Ming wouldn’t normally seek to provoke his patients with such words, but that doesn’t mean never.

He revealed a startling fact: within his chest, he beat the heart of an alien creature, transforming his atrium into a cell that existed in a realm separate from the real world and the shadow world. As he spoke, the surreal scene unfolded further. Eight ethereal arms emerged from Gao Ming’s back, crashing to the ground with force as blood spread around him. A face, symbolic of life, death, and desire, stared intently at Zhao Xi. From behind Gao Ming, a massive, blood-flesh ghost manifested, its face etched with haunting, ghostly expressions.

Time seemed to stand still. Zhao Xi, witnessing this ghastly figure so close, fell to the ground, his body collapsing under the weight of shock and fear. His mind was swept clean of all thoughts, leaving a void filled only with terror.

“HOLY SHIT!!!”

Gao Ming, holding the hand of this blood-flesh ghost, felt a sense of confusion and realization. He saw the echoes of many lives within this ghostly figure. He recalled that Situ An had dedicated twenty years to ritual sacrifices, annihilating numerous agents from the Investigation Bureau, all to trigger this legend prematurely, causing it to emerge at an unforeseen time.

Under normal circumstances, Gao Ming would never have acquired the Flesh Immortal. He had witnessed the memories of other deceased individuals entering the Sishui Apartment multiple times, but he had never fully grasped the Heart of Mortality nor understood the outcomes of those alternate futures.

“All the energy from the accumulated flesh has merged at this moment, completely shaping the reality. The Flesh Immortal has been reborn within my heart, turning my atrium into an independent cell, disconnected from both the real and shadow world.”

Gao Ming pondered a troubling question, “But if that’s the case, what happens to those who were sacrificed, trapped within my heart? Are they erased from the timeline forever? Do they only continue to exist within me?”

The ghostly deity before him, embodying immense strength and featuring Yan Hua’s characteristics, presented an enigmatic aspect. The faces representing death, desire, and sin were indistinct, but the face symbolizing life was strikingly similar to Gong Xi.

Gao Ming speculated this might be connected to Gong Xi’s grandmother, the last victim of the blood rituals and the only living participant. Her deep obsessions seemed to have been inherited by the ghostly deity.

“There are numerous spirits and victims within the Sishui Apartment, so it shouldn’t be hard to verify this,” Gao Ming thought. He took out his phone and began making a series of investigative calls.

First, he reached out to the Charity Association to ask about Gong Xi and his grandmother, but they had no information on them. Then, Gao Ming called an underground club in the Eastern District to place a bet on fighter 17, only to be informed that there was no such fighter.

After ending the phone call, Gao Ming turned his attention back to the blood-flesh ghost. The lack of information about Gong Xi and his grandmother seemed to affirm Gao Ming’s suspicions. He was now more convinced than ever about the eerie and profound connection between the ghostly figure and the events he was entangled in.

After a long time, he sat in front of the ghostly deity: “No matter what, we must continue moving forward. From now on, you and I will share life and death.”

As he made this declaration, the face on the ghostly figure that resembled Gong Xi drew nearer to Gao Ming. There was something deeply poignant and significant about its presence. The mouth, stitched shut, seemed as if it was straining to communicate something vital to Gao Ming. It appeared that Gong Xi’s will, safeguarded by the intense obsession of his grandmother, had somehow been preserved within this ghostly form.

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