After shifting his stance and craning his neck, Chen Ge finally deciphered the cryptic message scrawled in blood on the bathroom mirror: the Arabic numeral 2, stark and vivid against the reflective surface. The number itself was innocuous, unremarkable in its simplicity, but the fact that it was written in Zhang Peng's fresh, crimson blood lent it an unsettling air of menace, transforming it into something far more sinister than a mere digit.
Chen Ge's mind churned with questions. What does this number signify? He recalled the previous night, when, after the black shadow's abrupt departure, he had discovered the number 3 etched onto a shattered mirror elsewhere in the Haunted House. Now, here was a 2, glaring back at him. Is there a connection between them? Why is the number decreasing? The possibility that it represented some kind of countdown gnawed at him, each tick of the imagined clock tightening the knot in his stomach. But a countdown to what? An event? A deadline? Something far worse?
Leaning heavily against the splintered bathroom door, Chen Ge stared at the drying bloodstain, its edges crusting under the dim light. The mirror monster had taken refuge in Zhang Peng's body, fleeing into the night, so why leave this message behind? Unless… A chilling thought struck him. Unless it's planning to return. Is this a taunt? A promise of revenge? The idea sent a shiver down his spine. He knew so little about the otherworldly forces at play—about the mirror monster and the strange, malevolent realm it inhabited. Without more knowledge, he was grasping at shadows, unable to confirm his suspicions.
What happens when the number hits zero? The question loomed large, oppressive in its ambiguity. A dark premonition stirred within him, conjuring images from countless horror films where dwindling numbers spelled doom for the protagonist. Could it be tied to my life? When the countdown reaches zero, will my time be up? The thought was absurd, melodramatic even, but in the eerie silence of the Haunted House, it felt all too plausible. Chen Ge shook his head, trying to dispel the spiraling paranoia. I'm overthinking this. For now, all I can do is wait. If another number appears tomorrow night—here or anywhere in the Haunted House—I'll know what I'm dealing with. Then I can decide my next move.
With a heavy sigh, Chen Ge straightened, his shoulders sagging under the weight of exhaustion and uncertainty. All he had ever wanted was to keep the Haunted House running, to preserve the legacy his parents had left behind. If possible, he had hoped to breathe new life into it, to make it thrive. But time and again, fate seemed determined to derail his plans with these inexplicable, terrifying incidents.
Returning to the staff breakroom, Chen Ge found the scene outside transformed. Several police cars had arrived, their flashing lights casting erratic patterns across the Haunted House's facade. The city's investigation team had descended, their voices clipped and professional as they peppered Chen Ge with questions about the night's events. Cameras flashed as they documented the crime scene, capturing the bloodstains, the knife marks, and the shattered remnants of the bathroom door. Once their inquiries were satisfied, the team joined the broader manhunt for Zhang Peng, leaving Chen Ge in the care of Inspector Lee.
As the sun rose, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, there was still no word of Zhang Peng's capture. Inspector Lee, ever reassuring, placed a hand on Chen Ge's shoulder. "Given the shape he was in—wounded, disoriented—he won't get far. We'll have him in custody within the next 24 hours, I promise you." His confidence was meant to comfort, but Chen Ge barely registered it. His thoughts were consumed by the mirror monster and the ominous number 2. Zhang Peng was a secondary concern; the real threat was the entity that had escaped within him.
Inspector Lee mistook Chen Ge's brooding silence for trauma, offering words of encouragement and urging him to rest. "You've been through hell tonight, Xiao Chen. Take it easy." With a final nod, he followed his team out, leaving Chen Ge alone in the cavernous Haunted House as daylight crept through the windows.
Standing by an open window, Chen Ge let the cool morning breeze wash over his face, carrying with it the faint scent of dew and distant traffic. I'm the owner of a Haunted House, the so-called master of ghosts and spirits, he thought bitterly. So why do I feel so utterly powerless? The irony stung, a sharp reminder of how out of his depth he was against forces he barely understood.
A faint rustle broke his reverie. On the bed, a tattered ragdoll—one of the Haunted House's props—shifted as if caught by the breeze, tumbling to the floor and landing beneath the bedframe. Chen Ge stooped to retrieve it, brushing off the dust. He poked its plush belly, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite himself. "You're the only specter who listens to me," he muttered, half to himself, half to the doll. "But all you know how to do is look cute. In a real fight, I'd probably end up protecting you."
A soft, teasing hum broke the stillness of the night. "Hmph…" The sound was delicate, almost petulant, and it sent a shiver down Chen Ge's spine.
He chuckled, his voice low and playful. "Still sulking, are you? Come on, I didn't mean to leave you on the bedside last night. Did you sneak a peek while I wasn't looking?" His eyes gleamed with mischief as he lifted the small, intricately crafted puppet, its wooden limbs surprisingly warm in his hands. He turned it over, studying its delicate features, a knowing smile tugging at his lips.
Before he could say more, the puppet slipped from his grasp, tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. Chen Ge bent to retrieve it, but froze as a pair of pale, flawless feet appeared before him, delicate as porcelain. His gaze traveled upward, and his breath caught in his throat. Standing there was a vision—a petite, otherworldly girl, her naked form glowing faintly in the dim light, like moonlight given flesh. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, brushing her waist, and her youthful yet exquisitely curved body seemed to defy reality. Her skin was a luminous, almost translucent white, flushed with the faintest pink, like a ripe peach begging to be touched. Every inch of her was perfection—soft, supple, and impossibly smooth, her curves both innocent and intoxicating.
"Bad guy," she whispered, her voice a sultry mix of accusation and allure. Her almond-shaped eyes sparkled with a mix of defiance and curiosity, her lashes fluttering as she bit her lower lip. Despite her words, there was a heat in her gaze that belied her protest.
Chen Ge's heart raced. He knew she wasn't human—her ethereal beauty, the faint shimmer of her skin, the way the air seemed to hum around her all screamed of something beyond mortal. Yet, that only made her more irresistible. Her petite frame, with its gentle curves and pert, rounded hips, stirred something primal in him. Even her tiny navel, a perfect dimple, seemed to beckon him closer. Her slender legs, gracefully arched, ended in delicate feet with toes that curled slightly, as if shy under his stare.
He reached out, his hands trembling with anticipation, and brushed his fingertips along her calf. Her skin was cool to the touch, like silk kissed by moonlight, and he marveled at its softness. Leaning closer, he inhaled deeply, catching a faint, intoxicating fragrance—like jasmine laced with something forbidden. His lips grazed her ankle, then her toes, each one delicate as a petal. He couldn't resist; his tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along her foot, savoring the strange, sweet warmth that seemed to radiate from her.
"Ah…" A soft moan escaped her lips, her cheeks flushing a deeper pink. Her body tensed, toes curling as a shiver ran through her. She tried to pull away, but Chen Ge's grip was gentle yet firm, holding her in place. The air grew heavy with her scent, and he felt a rush of heat as he noticed a subtle glisten between her thighs, a silent confession of her own awakening desire.
"Hmm… please…" Her voice was a breathless whimper, her small, cold hands reaching out to clutch at his shoulders. Her eyes, wide and glistening, were a storm of emotions—shyness, curiosity, and a hunger she couldn't quite name. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her soft, full breasts trembling with each breath.
Chen Ge's gaze lingered on her, his hands sliding upward to cup the delicate weight of her breasts. They were cool, impossibly smooth, and yielded perfectly under his touch. His fingers teased her skin, tracing slow circles, and he felt her pulse quicken beneath his palms. Her nipples, small and pink, hardened under his attention, and he couldn't resist lowering his mouth to one, drawing it between his lips with a gentle, hungry pull.
"Oh…!" Her gasp was music, a sweet, desperate sound that fueled his desire. She squirmed, her hands tangling in his hair, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. "You… you can't… just look, not… ah… touch…"
But her protests were weak, drowned by the heat building between them. Chen Ge's lips trailed lower, kissing a path down her stomach, pausing to savor the dip of her navel before continuing downward. Her scent grew stronger, heady and intoxicating, drawing him to the soft, secret place between her thighs. He parted her legs gently, his breath warm against her skin, and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the delicate folds. His tongue followed, exploring with a reverence that bordered on worship, coaxing soft, trembling moans from her.
"No… it's… too much…" she whimpered, her voice breaking as her body arched toward him. Her hands clutched at his head, torn between resistance and surrender. The sweet, slick warmth that greeted him was like nectar, and he drank deeply, lost in the taste of her. Her cries grew louder, more desperate, until a sudden, shuddering gasp signaled her release, her body trembling as waves of pleasure overtook her.
The haunted house was silent save for their ragged breaths, the air thick with the aftermath of their forbidden dance. Chen Ge pulled back, his eyes dark with desire, and guided her small, trembling hand to his own aching need. Her fingers, delicate and cool, hesitated before closing around him, her touch tentative but curious. The contrast of her pale skin against his heat was electrifying, and her wide eyes met his, a mix of fear and fascination.
"Sit… move for me," he murmured, his voice rough with want, urging her closer. She shook her head, her lips parting in protest, but her body betrayed her, drawn to the heat of him. "It's… so warm," she whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of awe and uncertainty. "So… hard…"
In the dim glow of the haunted house's bedroom, the line between human and otherworldly blurred, and Chen Ge surrendered to the pull of her forbidden beauty, knowing this night would bind them in ways neither could escape.
The girl's flushed cheeks glowed like rose petals in the dim light, her breath hitching as she reached out with a trembling, porcelain-pale hand. Her slender fingers wrapped tentatively around Chen Ge's pulsing length, her touch cool yet electrifying. With a hesitant yet deliberate motion, she guided him toward her, easing herself down onto him. A soft gasp escaped her lips as he filled her, her slick warmth enveloping him in a tight, silken embrace. Strands of glistening honey dripped from where their bodies joined, trailing down Chen Ge's thighs in a slow, decadent cascade.
Chen Ge's head spun, his senses overwhelmed by the sensation of being enveloped in her otherworldly heat. Her core was a paradox—cool yet searing, soft yet unyielding, as if crafted to unravel him completely. He'd never imagined such ecstasy, let alone with a being like her—a fierce, ethereal spirit whose beauty defied the boundaries of life and death. Her petite form moved above him, her hips rising and falling with a rhythm that was both innocent and sinful. The faint, wet sounds of their union filled the air, her delicate folds parting and clinging to him with each thrust, her body yielding to his size in a way that seemed impossible for her delicate frame.
"Ah… hmm…" Her voice was a symphony of soft moans and breathless whimpers, each sound stoking the fire in Chen Ge's veins. "So… so strong… deeper… it's… tingling…" Her words dissolved into gasps, her almond eyes half-lidded with pleasure, her lips parted as if tasting the air itself. Her long, raven hair swayed like a dark curtain, brushing against Chen Ge's chest as her snow-white breasts bounced in time with her movements, their soft curves gleaming in the moonlight.
"Xiaoxiao…" Chen Ge growled, his hands gripping her hips, marveling at the contrast of her pale, flawless skin against his own. Her body was a work of art, every curve and contour a temptation he couldn't resist.
"You're… too perfect…" His voice was rough, thick with desire, as he watched her ride him, her slender waist twisting with a grace that belied her supernatural nature.
"Brother… it's… so hot… so full…" she whimpered, her voice trembling with a mix of shyness and raw need. "Your… your cock… it's… breaking me…" Her words were punctuated by sharp gasps, her body shuddering as she ground against him, chasing the deepest point of pleasure. Her hips moved faster, more urgently, her delicate frame trembling as she surrendered to the rhythm. Each thrust seemed to unravel her further, her moans growing louder, more desperate, as she lost herself in the sensation.
Chen Ge's hands roamed her body, tracing the curve of her spine, the swell of her hips, the soft, rounded flesh of her buttocks. He marveled at how she felt—both fragile and powerful, her ghostly essence somehow amplifying every touch, every sensation. Her inner walls clenched around him, tight and pulsing, drawing him deeper into her forbidden warmth. The sight of her—her flushed, angelic face, her trembling lips, her eyes clouded with lust—was almost too much to bear.
"Don't… stop…" she pleaded, her voice breaking as her nails dug into his chest, leaving faint, crescent-shaped marks. "It's… so good… I'm… I'm going to…" Her words trailed off into a high, keening cry as her body tensed, her thighs quivering against him. A rush of warmth flooded from her, coating him in her sweet release, and Chen Ge groaned, fighting to hold himself back as her tightness threatened to push him over the edge.
Despite her otherworldly nature, Xiaoxiao's innocence lingered, a ghostly echo of the girl she'd once been. Yet, her centuries of existence had honed her awareness, and the pleasure coursing through her was unlike anything she'd known. Shame and desire warred within her, each sensation amplified by the forbidden nature of their union. Her small hands clutched at him, one sliding up to knead her own breast, her fingers pinching and tugging at the sensitive peak until it flushed a deeper pink. "Bad… bad guy…" she murmured, her voice a sultry pout, though her hips never stopped their relentless motion. "You're… making me… feel so…"
Chen Ge's restraint snapped. With a low growl, he lifted her, her light, ethereal form weightless in his arms. He moved them to the edge of the bed, standing as he spread her slender legs wide, draping them over his shoulders. Her glistening core was exposed to him, vulnerable and inviting, and he thrust into her with a force that made her cry out.
"You're mine tonight, Xiaoxiao," he rasped, his hands gripping the bed for leverage as he drove into her, each movement deliberate and deep. "You'll never forget this."
Her head fell back, her hair spilling across the sheets like ink, her eyes hazy with pleasure. "Yes… harder… please…" she begged, her voice a desperate whisper. Her legs trembled, her toes curling as she arched to meet his thrusts, her body welcoming him with a hunger that matched his own. The slick, rhythmic collision of their bodies echoed in the silent haunted house, a lewd symphony that drowned out the world beyond.
Her delicate frame shuddered with each impact, her inner walls spasming around him, drawing him deeper into her warmth. "I… I can't… it's coming again…" she gasped, her voice breaking as another wave of pleasure crashed over her. Her hands clung to his neck, her lips parting in a silent scream as her body convulsed, her release spilling over him in a rush of heat.
Chen Ge's own climax loomed, his body taut with the effort to prolong their shared ecstasy. "Xiaoxiao… you're… driving me insane…" he panted, his thrusts growing erratic as he chased the edge. Her ethereal beauty, her desperate moans, her impossible tightness—it was all too much. With a final, shuddering thrust, he surrendered, spilling into her with a groan that echoed through the room.
As their breathing slowed, the haunted house seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with the afterglow of their forbidden union. Xiaoxiao's eyes, still glazed with pleasure, met his, a faint smile curling her lips.
"Brother…" she whispered, her voice soft but laced with a promise. "You… you can't escape me now."
Xiaoxiao's entire body quivered, her delicate frame trembling as waves of pleasure cascaded through her. "Ah… harder… break me…" she gasped, her voice a sultry blend of desperation and delight. "Your… your cock… I'll crave it… every night…" Her words, laced with a ghostly innocence yet dripping with desire, sent a jolt through Chen Ge, his gaze locked on the ethereal beauty writhing beneath him. Her snow-white breasts, soft and luminous, danced with each thrust, their cool, silken texture swaying in a hypnotic rhythm that drove him wild.
Chen Ge's breath hitched as he gripped her slender waist, pulling her closer, his lips descending into the valley between her perfect, trembling peaks. He buried his face there, inhaling her faint, honeyed fragrance—a scent that was both sweet and otherworldly, like wildflowers blooming in a moonlit grove. His mouth roamed, kissing and licking the smooth, cool skin, his tongue tracing the curves of her breasts with a hunger that bordered on reverence. The sensation of her softness against his lips, coupled with the tight, pulsing warmth enveloping him below, sent his senses spiraling.
Her giggles, soft and almost foolish, broke through her moans, her almond eyes shimmering with a mix of mischief and surrender. She reached out, her delicate, snow-white hand brushing against his stubbled cheek, guiding his face to her breast. "Here…" she whispered, her voice a seductive purr as she arched her back, offering herself to him. Chen Ge's eyes burned with desire as he took her nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily, feeling her body shudder beneath him. Goosebumps prickled across her luminous skin, and she pressed his head closer, her fingers tangling in his hair as if anchoring herself to this moment.
"Brother… you're… too much…" she whimpered, her body half-limp from the intensity, yet her hips continued their relentless dance, meeting his thrusts with a fervor that belied her delicate appearance. Her inner walls, impossibly tight, gripped him with a silken strength, each movement drawing him deeper into her forbidden warmth. The slick, rhythmic sounds of their union filled the room, mingling with her breathless moans and the faint creak of the bed. Chen Ge glanced down at where their bodies joined, his cheeks flushing at the sight—her delicate folds stretched around him, glistening with their shared arousal, a frothy sheen coating his length.
Reluctantly pulling his lips from her breast, he shifted their positions, climbing onto the bed and lifting one of her slender, porcelain legs to rest on his shoulder. The other leg he pressed gently beneath him, spreading her wide, exposing the glistening, peach-like treasure between her thighs. Her core was a vision—flushed, wet, and utterly inviting, its delicate beauty marred only by the delicious chaos of their passion. He thrust into her with renewed vigor, each stroke sinking deep, the tip of his length brushing the tender heart of her flower. Her breasts bounced wildly, their glossy sheen catching the dim light, and Chen Ge's restraint frayed further with every shuddering arc.
"Ah… you're… breaking me…" Xiaoxiao gasped, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and overwhelm. Her lips parted, her eyes rolling back slightly as her body arched to meet him. "It's… too deep… I can't…" Her words dissolved into a high, keening cry as another wave of pleasure crashed over her, her inner walls spasming, flooding him with her sweet, ghostly essence. The sensation was overwhelming, her cool, silken tightness pressing against him from all sides, and Chen Ge groaned, his own climax looming as her release coated him in a rush of warmth.
Her ethereal nature only heightened the intensity. Despite her ghostly existence, Xiaoxiao's body responded with a raw, human-like hunger, her centuries of solitude amplifying every sensation. The shame of her surrender mingled with the ecstasy, pushing her into a state of blissful abandon. Her hands clutched at him, one kneading her own breast, the other gripping his arm as her body trembled, caught in the throes of yet another climax. "Bad… bad brother…" she moaned, her voice a sultry pout, her hips bucking against him as if begging for more.
Chen Ge's control was slipping, his body taut with the effort to prolong their shared ecstasy. The sight of her—her angelic face flushed with desire, her trembling lips, her body writhing beneath him—was too much. With a guttural growl, he thrust harder, his hands gripping her sweat-slicked hips as he drove into her with abandon. "Xiaoxiao… you're… too tight…" he rasped, his voice breaking as the pressure built, her pulsing warmth pushing him to the edge. The cool rush of her release against his heated length was the final spark, and with a shuddering groan, he let go, spilling into her with a force that left him dizzy.
"Ah… inside… it's… so hot…" Xiaoxiao whimpered, her body trembling as his warmth flooded her, sending her spiraling into another climax. Her nails dug into his arms, her toes curling as her delicate frame convulsed, her moans echoing through the silent haunted house. She collapsed against him, her chest heaving despite her lack of need for breath, her breasts trembling with each shuddering gasp. Her lips, red and parted, exhaled soft, orchid-scented breaths, her eyes glazed with a mix of satisfaction and lingering desire. Her raven hair clung to her sweat-dampened skin, framing her flushed, ethereal face in a halo of disheveled beauty.
As the haze of their passion settled, Xiaoxiao's gaze met his, a faint, mischievous smile curling her lips. "Brother…" she whispered, her voice soft but laced with a possessive edge. "You've marked me… now I'll haunt you forever."
…
The rewards from the Nightmare Missions Chen Ge had completed were both support skills, invaluable for enhancing the operations and atmosphere of the Haunted House but offering little in the way of personal protection or direct aid. They were tools for his business, not weapons against the supernatural threats that now plagued his life.
Despite the uncertainty surrounding the cryptic numbers left by the mirror monster, Chen Ge was resolute—he refused to be a pawn in some otherworldly game, manipulated by forces he couldn't yet comprehend.
Retrieving the black phone from his pocket, Chen Ge navigated its eerie interface, his fingers hesitating over the options. After a thorough search, he realized his only true ace in the hole was the formidable Red Specter, Zhang Ya. Her presence had proven pivotal once before, at the wooden hut behind Ping An Apartments, where her subtle intervention had revealed Wang Qi's presence, effectively saving Chen Ge's life. Yet, her reliability was questionable. During the Nightmare Mission, when the mirror monster had nearly drowned him in a bathtub, Zhang Ya had remained conspicuously absent, leaving him to fend for himself. Her capricious nature made it clear she held little regard for his survival unless it suited her whims.
If I complete her Bloody Heart Mission, I can compel her to act—within the bounds of her will, of course, Chen Ge mused. She might be my best chance to confront the looming threat of the mirror monster. He tapped on Zhang Ya's name, and the phone's screen shifted to a blood-red interface that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Even Chen Ge, whose courage had been forged through years of facing the macabre, felt a tremor of unease. But Zhang Ya's affection is… complicated. She's drawn to a dead Chen Ge. If her affection level spikes too quickly, what's to stop her from dragging me into the afterlife to join her?
The thought of a specter's obsessive admiration was not something most could stomach, and Chen Ge was no exception. Closing the app, he exhaled sharply, the air in the Haunted House suddenly feeling lighter, fresher, as if he'd narrowly escaped a suffocating trap. The Bloody Heart Mission is a last resort, he decided. If another number appears tonight, confirming this countdown, I'll have no choice but to pursue it. For now, I'll hold off.
With a plan coalescing in his mind, Chen Ge's exhaustion finally overtook him. He collapsed onto the bed in the staff breakroom, slipping into a fitful sleep, his dreams haunted by mirrors and blood-scrawled numbers.
At 8 a.m., Xu Wan arrived to manage the Haunted House, her steady presence a small comfort. Chen Ge entrusted the day's operations to her and set out to purchase surveillance cameras, funded by Uncle Xu's reluctant contribution. The urgency was driven by necessity—the Haunted House was riddled with blind spots, making it a playground for threats both human and supernatural. Moreover, one of the black phone's Daily Missions explicitly required the installation of surveillance and security devices, a task Chen Ge couldn't afford to ignore.
By afternoon, a team of workers arrived to install the cameras. Under Chen Ge's watchful eye, they set up the devices in nearly every corner of the Haunted House, their hands trembling as they worked in the oppressive atmosphere. The result was a comprehensive surveillance network with minimal gaps, a digital web designed to catch any intruder—living or otherwise. Though Chen Ge had hoped to invest in listening devices as well, his budget was stretched thin. He settled for a single, budget-friendly model, which he had installed in the Minghun scenario, hoping it would suffice for now.
By 7 p.m., after rigorous testing, the black phone chimed with a notification: "Congratulations on completing the Easy Mission! Reward earned—Background Music, Wedding Dress! Note: Wedding Dress is the perfect accompaniment to the Minghun scenario! The Minghun scenario's Scream Factor has been upgraded to 1 Star!"
Chen Ge's eyebrows lifted in surprise. The Minghun scenario's original Scream Factor had been a mere 0.5 Stars, but this new music had doubled its impact. This Wedding Dress track must be something else, he thought, intrigued. Curious to test it, he played the audio through the phone's speakers. Unlike the insidious, creeping dread of Black Friday, which dragged listeners into a slow descent toward darkness, Wedding Dress was an unsettling fusion of wedding and funeral music. Its discordant notes wove together in a haunting melody that sent goosebumps racing across Chen Ge's skin from the very first chord.
It's perfect for Minghun, he conceded, but this could wreak havoc on someone's psyche if played too often. I'll save it for when visitors challenge the scenario. He transferred Wedding Dress to his personal phone for safekeeping, then headed to the third floor to tackle the mess left behind by the night's chaos.
With no funds to hire cleaners, Chen Ge took on the task himself.
Tucking a few of the Haunted House's prop dolls into his pockets for company, he meticulously swept up the shattered mirror fragments scattered across the third floor. The work was tedious, each glinting shard a reminder of the mirror monster's lingering threat. By the time he finished, the clock was nearing midnight. Gripping his phone tightly, Chen Ge patrolled between the bathroom and the staff breakroom, his senses on high alert for any sign of a new number—or worse, the monster itself.