The three Nightmare Missions, Chen Ge realized, were akin to the introductory quests in a complex and perilous game, designed to ease new players into its mechanics while carrying just enough risk to test their resolve. Each mission had been a carefully orchestrated step, guiding him through the shadowy rules of the black phone's world, familiarizing him with its supernatural stakes. The first mission had opened a door to an otherworldly realm, the second had kindled hope that his missing parents were still alive, and the third had pointed him toward a cryptic destination. Yet, as he clutched the bloodied paper crane in his hand, its ominous message still fresh in his mind, Chen Ge felt a surge of unease. These missions, though dangerous, had been relatively controlled, like a tutorial shielding him from the full scope of the phone's challenges. If these were merely the starting point, what unimaginable horrors awaited in the randomized missions to come?
Carefully folding the blood-stained note with the words "The Third Room of the Third Sick Hall," Chen Ge tucked it away, his mind wrestling with the gravity of his situation. The missions thus far had been a proving ground, a test to determine if he was worthy of being a true "player" in the black phone's enigmatic game. His emotions churned—fear, determination, and a lingering sense of awe at the forces at play. The Nightmare Missions had thrust him into encounters with the supernatural, from spectral presences to inexplicable phenomena, each one a brush with death that had honed his instincts. The thought of what lay beyond the third mission filled him with dread; if the kiddie pool had been this treacherous, the deeper waters of the later missions promised threats that could unravel even his steely resolve.
Reflecting on his past experiences, Chen Ge acknowledged that the two Trial Missions he had completed—Ping An Apartments and Mu Yang High School—had been challenging but not insurmountable. At Ping An Apartments, the true danger had stemmed from human malice, the scheming of living people rather than spectral threats. Mu Yang High School, while eerie and steeped in ghostly presences, had been populated by spirits that meant no harm, their lingering sadness more tragic than malevolent. In a sense, these missions had been manageable, their risks calculated to test his courage without overwhelming him. But the black phone's three-star scenarios, like the looming Third Sick Hall, promised a different caliber of danger—malicious specters, perhaps, or forces far less forgiving than those he had encountered. With the note likely left by his parents, Chen Ge felt an unshakable resolve to pursue the lead, no matter the peril it entailed.
Opening the black phone, Chen Ge's eyes fell on the confirmation that flickered across its screen: the Nightmare Mission was complete the moment he had glimpsed the face of Director Luo's daughter, the guardian spirit of the park. The message read, "Specters' Favored, congratulations for completing the Nightmare Mission, obtained reward—Elementary Skill, Dollmaker's Talent." The description was chilling: "Utilizing real humans as your model, carve, cut, join, and shine each bone, paint the skin, sew up the wounds, and pair it with a flawless face. Provide it to a homeless spirit, and you will have created your first living doll." The phone also offered the option to draw a randomized Trial Mission, with a stern warning that future Nightmare Missions would be unpredictable, demanding utmost caution. The weight of this new skill and the looming randomness of future challenges settled heavily on Chen Ge, a reminder of the dark path he had chosen to tread.
As the Dollmaker's Talent seeped into his mind, new memories and techniques unfurled like a macabre blueprint, detailing the intricate process of crafting living dolls. Unlike the Mortician's Make-up skill, which had enhanced his ability to mask the dead, this new ability felt both practical and profoundly unsettling, perfectly suited to the Haunted House's eerie aesthetic. Dolls and mannequins were the lifeblood of any haunted attraction, and this skill promised to elevate his creations to a terrifying new level. Chen Ge's thoughts turned to the twenty-four lingering spirits of Mu Yang High School, each in need of a vessel. By crafting dolls for them, he could test this skill and potentially complete the scenario's Hidden Mission. The idea of forcing spirits into his creations without their consent barely registered; his focus was on the practical benefits, blind to the ethical shadows cast by such an act.
The Night of the Living Dead scenario in his Haunted House suffered from a shortage of mannequins, a problem compounded by the lack of facilities to produce them in bulk. Chen Ge's mind shifted to logistics, calculating the steps needed to bring his vision to life. The next morning, he resolved, he would scour the area for a workshop capable of crafting mannequins at a reasonable cost. The expense was a concern—his budget was already stretched thin—but the potential to enhance the Haunted House and fulfill the black phone's missions outweighed the financial strain. As he scrolled through the phone, Chen Ge hesitated over the option to draw the Trial Mission for the Third Sick Hall. The three-star scenario loomed large, its dangers uncharted, and he wasn't yet ready to face its challenges. The weight of that decision lingered, a quiet reminder of the trials still to come.
Turning to his phone, Chen Ge ended the video recording he had set up earlier, carefully editing out the chilling moment when the slippers had moved on their own and stopped beside his bed. The resulting clip, a mere eleven seconds long, captured the eerie movement of the slippers in stark clarity. He titled it "Whenever I Fell Asleep, the Slippers Walk to the Bed on Their Own" and uploaded it to the app, his fingers trembling slightly as he did so. The video's impact was immediate—within minutes, it garnered over a hundred views and fifty shares, the comments section erupting with speculation and fear. "Small and weak! Your video is similar to your…" one user began, only to pivot to, "Wait, can someone tell me why the slippers can move on their own?" Others questioned whether he had edited himself out or spotted figures hiding under the bed, their reactions amplifying the video's unsettling effect.
The flood of comments, ranging from disbelief to outright terror, brought a fleeting sense of validation to Chen Ge, even as his follower count ticked upward. "Am I mistaken? Or is there someone hiding under the bed?" one user wrote, while another exclaimed, "I see it, too! But there appears to be two of them! F*ck, what in heaven's name is this‽" After skimming the responses for a few minutes, Chen Ge logged out, exhaustion pulling at him. He returned to bed, the weight of the night's events lingering like a shadow. The next morning, he rose early, methodically sweeping away the scattered white rice and cleaning the Haunted House, preparing it for the park's opening. As he worked, a nagging thought surfaced: the lack of employees was a growing problem. If only the Pen Spirit could be persuaded to sell tickets, he mused, a wry smile crossing his face at the absurdity of the idea.
Chen Ge's mind buzzed with strategic planning as he considered the operational dynamics of his Haunted House's scenarios, each one a carefully crafted experience designed to elicit screams and shivers. The Minghun scenario, with its intimate and chilling narrative, was best suited for small groups, capped at three visitors to maintain its oppressive atmosphere. Murder by Midnight, however, thrived on chaos—the more visitors crowded into its twisting corridors, the more their fear fed into the scenario's frenetic energy, amplifying the terror. Mu Yang High School, with its sprawling underground layout mimicking the old parking lot, could accommodate larger groups, up to eight, without losing its eerie impact, provided Chen Ge controlled the pacing with precision. By orchestrating the scares carefully, he could ensure that even a larger group would leave trembling, their nerves frayed by the spectral encounters lurking in the shadows.
His thoughts turned to the Hidden Mission tied to Mu Yang High School, a challenge that promised to unlock new possibilities for the Haunted House. Once completed, he envisioned a streamlined operation: Xu Wan, his trusted employee, could manage the Murder by Midnight scenario, her calm demeanor perfect for guiding visitors through its psychological twists. Meanwhile, Chen Ge would immerse himself in Mu Yang High School, leveraging his newfound Dollmaker's Talent to breathe life into the scenario's lingering spirits. This division of labor would allow two scenarios to run simultaneously, maximizing the Haunted House's capacity and drawing in more thrill-seekers. The prospect of doubling the scares—and the revenue—ignited a spark of ambition in Chen Ge, tempered only by the looming challenges of the black phone's missions and the supernatural forces they unleashed.
Determined to bring his vision to life, Chen Ge turned to the practical matter of acquiring mannequins for the Night of the Living Dead scenario and the spirits of Mu Yang High School. He went online, searching for a workshop near western Jiujiang that could produce the detailed figures he needed. To his surprise, he found one just a short distance from New Century Park, a facility that had once supplied the park itself during its heyday. The workshop's fortunes, it seemed, had declined alongside the park's, its owner on the verge of closing shop as demand dwindled. The discovery felt serendipitous, a small stroke of luck in the midst of the Haunted House's supernatural trials. Chen Ge made a mental note to visit the workshop later, hoping to negotiate a deal that wouldn't strain his already tight budget, while envisioning rows of meticulously crafted dolls enhancing the terror of his attractions.
As 9 a.m. approached, New Century Park opened its gates, the morning sun casting long shadows across the grounds. The park's overall attendance had been waning, a slow bleed of visitors that reflected its fading allure. Yet, the Haunted House stood as an exception, its line of eager thrill-seekers growing longer each day. Chen Ge couldn't help but recall the early days when he stood outside, clutching a stack of flyers, watching enviously as families and couples bypassed his attraction for the Merry-go-Round or other rides. Back then, even the carousel's line had outshone his own, but now the tables had turned. The Haunted House had become a magnet for the curious and the brave, its reputation bolstered by Chen Ge's viral videos and the whispers of its otherworldly encounters. The shift filled him with a quiet pride, though the weight of maintaining that momentum pressed heavily on his shoulders.
Standing at the entrance, Chen Ge addressed the growing crowd with practiced authority, his voice carrying over the excited chatter. "Please stay patiently in line. Every scenario costs 20. For those of you who want to experience a different scenario after the first one, please return to the back of the line." He directed Xu Wan to head inside and prepare the Haunted House, her quick efficiency a vital asset in keeping operations smooth. As he began selling tickets, the black phone in his pocket vibrated unexpectedly, a subtle buzz that sent a jolt of anticipation through him. The day had barely begun, and already the phone was signaling something new. Stepping aside for a moment, he pulled it out, his eyes narrowing as he read the message that flickered across the screen, its words both a promise and a warning.
The message read: "The Midnight Ticket Counter's effect has been triggered. A special visitor has appeared! Please make use of this opportunity; the results will be different based on your choices!" Chen Ge's pulse quickened, the cryptic nature of the black phone's alerts never failing to unsettle him. Another trigger? The words echoed in his mind as he scanned the line of visitors, searching for a clue to the identity of this "special visitor." His gaze swept over the crowd—families, teenagers, and thrill-seekers—each face blending into the next until his eyes landed on the figure at the end of the line. The man waved at him, a familiar gesture that sparked instant recognition. Chen Ge's breath caught as he realized who it was, the unexpected presence adding a new layer of intrigue to an already fraught morning.
"Doctor Gao?" Chen Ge muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief as he sent two visitors into the Minghun scenario, ensuring the line kept moving. He approached the man, studying him closely. Doctor Gao, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, stood out sharply against the casual attire of the park's typical visitors, his polished appearance more suited to a boardroom than a theme park. "Why are you here?" Chen Ge asked, his tone cautious but curious, the black phone's message lingering in his mind. Doctor Gao's familiar face, tied to memories of their past interactions, brought a flood of questions, each one tinged with the possibility that this visit was no coincidence.
"To find you, of course," Doctor Gao replied with a calm smile, his demeanor unruffled despite the unusual setting. "I knew you were no longer a student, but I had no idea you were running a Haunted House." His words carried a hint of amusement, but there was a purpose behind his gaze that Chen Ge couldn't ignore. Pocketing the black phone, Chen Ge kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced. "It's a family business," he said, brushing off the comment with practiced ease. "So, how can I help you?" The question hung in the air, weighted with the knowledge that Doctor Gao's presence, flagged by the black phone, was no ordinary visit.
Doctor Gao's expression grew serious, his voice lowering as he leaned closer. "It's like this: I've come across a unique patient whose situation reminds me of the boy you once told me about. I was hoping to ask you some questions." The words sent a ripple of unease through Chen Ge, his thoughts flashing back to past conversations and the strange cases they had discussed. The black phone's warning about the "special visitor" echoed in his mind, suggesting that Doctor Gao's arrival was tied to something far greater than a simple consultation. The Haunted House, already a nexus of supernatural forces, seemed to hum with new possibilities, and Chen Ge braced himself for whatever answers—or dangers—this encounter might bring.