Chapter 7: A Harrowing Discovery
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Room 2507 remained virtually unchanged, a time capsule of Zhao’s existence. Every item, from his wardrobe and sofa to the coffee table, stood as a testament to his presence, a silent homage to his life once lived there.
Mr. Zhao, a modest man, had embraced a minimalist lifestyle. His home reflected this austerity, with an interior that felt cold and sparse. The atmosphere was heavy, tinged with an unnamable somberness.
Outside, rain lashed against the window panes, driven by a somber sky. Although it was just after six in the evening, a premature darkness had enveloped the room.
Xuan Wen, foregoing the artificial light, moved directly to the balcony. She stood there, overlooking the courtyard, her gaze fixated on the relentless downpour.
Meanwhile, Gao Ming, after a moment of hesitation, entered room 2507. His attention was immediately captured by a large, black cloth-covered picture frame on the living room wall, conspicuously displayed.
“Do you want to know what’s beneath?” Xuan Wen inquired, her back still turned yet seemingly attuned to Gao Ming’s curiosity. “You can uncover it.”
Heeding her suggestion, Gao Ming delicately removed the cloth. Revealed was a large black and white wedding photograph. In it, both Gao Ming and Xuan Wen beamed with joy. However, only Gao Ming was in color; Xuan Wen, in her striking beauty and lavish wedding dress, remained in grayscale.
“Is this another keepsake?” Gao Ming was puzzled; he had no memory of ever taking such a photograph with Xuan Wen, especially one so eerie.
“Do you recall anything now?” Xuan Wen asked, turning to face him. Her smile was gentle, her demeanor tender, yet her presence radiated an unsettling, cryptic energy, her eyes holding deep, hidden secrets.
“What transpired in the tunnel on the Ghost Festival night?” Gao Ming stood near the door, poised to leave at a moment’s notice.
“You boarded a bus not meant for you, journeying to an unintended destination,” Xuan Wen’s gaze was intense, a mix of eerie familiarity and disturbing fascination. “You’ve forgotten what happened in that tunnel. Your mind is shielding you, believing you incapable of confronting the dreadful truth. It has selectively erased these memories.”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
“Why are you aware of the tunnel events? You’re just a character from my game; you shouldn’t know of my experiences there,” Gao Ming backed towards the door.
“I was the one who brought you back that night,” Xuan Wen stepped closer, “Remember the game ‘To Our Love That Will Eventually Perish,’ and my side story’s design? I always know where you are. Watching over you is what I cherish most. This grim power, combined with an uncontrollable affection, compelled me to find you as soon as I awoke.”
Gao Ming shuddered at her words. He had never engaged with a dating game before and was unprepared for its frightening reality.
“What did you see?”
“The tunnel walls were a grisly sight, adorned with bodies contorted in grotesque expressions of pain. When I found you, you were engaged in a strange dialogue, walking deeper into the tunnel’s depths. It was me who pulled you out,” Xuan Wen recounted, her voice wavering between certainty and doubt. A flicker of fear was apparent in her eyes as she described the harrowing scene.
“Merely seeing bodies embedded in walls wouldn’t be enough to induce amnesia in me. Yet, I do recall faint voices,” Gao Ming tried to dredge up memories but found only voids. “Can you recall what the voice said?”
“The situation is spiraling into chaos. Evil spirits wander unchecked, strange phenomena are rampant, and the most sinister human desires threaten to upheave the city. The violent crimes and urban legends that inspired your games could become reality, born from the decay of forgotten memories. To diminish their vengeance, more people must engage with your games. You have the power to either guide them through or sacrifice them to appease these narratives. Each choice carries its own cost and consequences.”
After a brief pause, Xuan Wen added, “The voice indicated that you were marked for death but were given a reprieve, as if a bargain had been struck.”
“I was destined to die…” Gao Ming mulled over the weighty implication. “Could it be that I faced death in the tunnel? When you found me, had I already been resurrected? Such an idea defies all logic!”
“If you doubt my words or suspect deception, you can seek corroboration from the other bus passengers that night,” Xuan Wen suggested as she settled onto the sofa. “When leading you out, I saw other survivors.”
“Other survivors were there?”
“Yes, but the situation was too frantic for me to get a clear look. Had I seen their faces, I would’ve pursued them for answers,” Xuan Wen’s tone was eerily casual, belying the chilling nature of her words.
Armed with this information and under the cover of night, Gao Ming edged backwards.
“So, you’re satisfied now and wish to leave?” Xuan Wen’s gaze held a playful yet probing quality. “You probably don’t recall the promise you made to me in the tunnel, do you?”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s alright, take your time to ponder it.” Xuan Wen produced a black and white photograph of a deceased individual from her attire. “When I awakened in reality, this photo was beside me. In the past three days, as I’ve interacted with other female characters from the dating game, I’ve noticed changes in the wedding dress in the photo.”
Xuan Wen compared the photo in her hand with the large wedding photo on the wall. Evidently, the dress in her hand-held photo was slowly transforming, gaining color.
“The other female characters from the dating game have manifested under some mysterious force. Technically, they’re deceased. Yet, the issue lies here…” Xuan Wen brandished a photograph of a deceased person, her eyes alight with a frenzied intensity. “This photograph symbolizes the residual memories left by the dead in the real world. If a black and white image transitions to color, does it signify the subject’s resurrection? It appears that by eliminating these haunted counterparts, I can liberate myself from certain limitations.”
“Is this why you can traverse the city freely, blending in as if alive?” Gao Ming was visibly unnerved as he processed Xuan Wen’s nonchalant admission of ‘handling’ the other girlfriends. Eight in just three days—it was madness!
Xuan Wen, once a peripheral and deranged character in the game, neglected and distorted, had become more attuned to the new reality than Gao Ming. Her clarity and decisive actions when the game bled into the real world surpassed his understanding.
Xuan Wen’s sudden presence also sharpened Gao Ming’s perspective. In those horror and mystery games, the threats weren’t limited to monstrous entities or vengeful spirits; there could also be potent, unhinged beings.
“I only aspire to become a person, like you,” Xuan Wen’s speech quickened, her behavior growing increasingly erratic as she disclosed her true motive for seeking out Gao Ming. “My repeated experiments have uncovered a process for a game’s transition into reality. The more horrifying and perilous the game, the more gradual its integration with our city, giving rise to alarming signs and premonitions. To activate the urban legend before its full manifestation, three elements are essential: a murder site with a recent death, a photograph of the departed from that realm, and your involvement.”
In the ominous Room 2507, Gao Ming understood Xuan Wen’s goal. She aimed to “hunt” the monstrous narratives from the game, consuming them before they could fully materialize within the urban myths.
“The murder site represents the game’s backdrop, the photograph serves as an entry pass, and you are the vital link,” Xuan Wen clutched Gao Ming’s clothing. “The voice instructed you to introduce more players to the game, so I qualify as a participant, correct?”
Her eyes reddened, Xuan Wen revealed eight blank obituary portraits from her handbag.
“I have ample ‘tickets’.”
“Stay calm, your theory is speculative at this point,” Gao Ming responded, his fear subsiding upon discerning Xuan Wen’s actual intent. He scrutinized her, noting her flawless visage. “But I’m willing to assist you. We’ll test your hypothesis tonight, right here in Room 2507.”
As a psychological counselor in a high-security prison, Gao Ming was adept at dealing with volatile personalities.
Just as he consented to help, footsteps resounded in the hallway, followed by the doorbell.
After Xuan Wen shrouded the wedding photograph with the black cloth again, Gao Ming opened the door. A disfigured investigator stood in the corridor, panting, “This room is dangerous; you must vacate it immediately!”