Chapter Fifty-Seven: Scared Witless

After the three had entered, Wang Hui strolled leisurely to the exit and began reading a book. As expected, within a minute, cries erupted from inside.

"What the hell is this thing?!"
"Ah!"
"It's a ghost! It's a ghost!"
"Damn it! Let me out! There really are ghosts in here!"
"Oh my god! Help!"
"Ah!"

Soon, the first person burst out, drenched in cold sweat and utterly disheveled. The second followed, eyes wide, looking even more distressed than the first. As soon as they saw each other, they started bickering.

"Where did you run off to just now?"
"I was about to ask you! I saw someone who looked just like you, but when I turned around, it was a ghost—I nearly died of fright!"

While they argued, a phrase from He Yang's video suddenly came to mind. It seemed He Yang had gone through something similar. But why was the video pitch black? The thought made them shudder, and they turned to glance at Wang Hui, who was sitting serenely nearby.

"What exactly is going on in your haunted house?" they demanded.

Wang Hui shook his head. "You’ll need to settle your bill soon—two hundred each."

"Don’t change the subject! Current technology can’t pull off something like this. How did you do it?"

"No comment," Wang Hui replied with a smile.

Seeing that Wang Hui refused to divulge anything, they dropped the subject, knowing that the secrets of the haunted house were his livelihood and unlikely to be shared. They looked back at the haunted house, perplexed. "Where’s Sun Miao? Why isn’t he out yet?"

Wang Hui smiled faintly. "His experience is different from yours—after all, he said he wanted someone to scare me so badly I’d wet my pants."

The remark carried an unsettling weight, making both men shiver involuntarily. Was Sun Miao really inside, scared so much he'd wet himself? If so, how could he ever show his face on the horror forums again?

Inside the haunted house, Sun Miao stared blankly at a mirror. His eyes were bloodshot, his legs trembling uncontrollably, and his rigid face was filled with terror. It was hard to imagine what he had just endured.

Glaring at the mirror, he cursed aloud. "Damn it! If I can't handle this, I can at least run away!"

He turned and headed in another direction, but soon his path was blocked by yet another mirror.

Sun Miao gazed at the mirror in despair, nearly in tears at the sight of his own reflection.

"What kind of place is this? Can modern technology really achieve something like this?"

Just then, the image in the mirror began to distort, forming a tiny vortex. Sun Miao peered closer and noticed a line of small text within the swirl.

"Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Do I believe in ghosts?" Sun Miao repeated the question. In the past, he would have answered with absolute certainty that he didn't. Frequenting the horror forums, he'd seen and learned too much, realizing that behind most tales of terror were either deliberate schemes or wild fabrications with no basis. Deep down, he didn't believe in ghosts.

But in this haunted house, everything was so bizarre and unsettling that his nerves were stretched taut. The strange spatial structure made it even harder to believe science could explain it; now, he was more inclined to think the place was a mysterious, otherworldly realm, and he was being toyed with by some enigmatic presence.

With that thought, everything that had happened—his own experiences and He Yang's—suddenly made sense. Could the master of this space be the so-called ghost?

His pores began to sweat profusely, every hair on his body standing on end.

"I suppose... I suppose I believe," he murmured, shrinking in fear.

The words vanished from the mirror, replaced by a terrifying human face. "In that case, spend three minutes proving your theory," the face said, then disappeared, leaving only the mirror.

Three minutes to prove his theory? Sun Miao repeated the phrase silently, reflecting on its meaning, and suddenly a dreadful possibility struck him. Would a ghost appear within three minutes?

His adrenaline soared to new heights. His heart thudded wildly in his chest as though it were dancing in a nightclub, and he stared nervously around, expecting a ghost to materialize at any moment.

But two minutes passed, and nothing happened. The longer the silence, the deeper his fear grew. His nerves stretched to their limits, and just then, a cold wind brushed past from behind.

"Ah!" he cried out instinctively and spun around, but saw nothing. Just a gust of wind?

Wait—a gust of wind? This was the haunted house, or an eerie space of some kind. How could there be wind here?

The more he thought about it, the more terrified he became, and the more he couldn't help but dwell on it. He began to unravel.

"Whoever you are, I beg you, let me go this once! I’ll do anything, serve you however you want!"

His voice echoed through the space, but no answer came. Glancing back at the mirror, he saw a person in clown makeup grinning at him, the smile exaggerated and sinister.

"Who are you!"

He nearly collapsed, his legs giving way, and only by bracing himself with his hands on the ground did he stay upright.

The clown said nothing, merely pointed behind him.

Sun Miao spun around, but found only darkness. Before he could turn back, he sensed something standing right in front of him. Slowly, he turned his head and saw a young man.

"Who... who are you?" he stammered. From the young man's smile, Sun Miao sensed he wasn’t human.

The young man looked him over, then glanced at Sun Miao's pants. Upon seeing there were no signs of fear-induced accidents, his expression changed instantly.

"I finally took this seriously, yet you made me lose so completely!" he grumbled, twisting his neck. "Damn!"

With another twist, he transformed into the clown and lunged at Sun Miao.

"Ah! Ah!"

His screams were laced with utter despair and terror, sending chills through the two outside, who anxiously turned to Wang Hui.

"Can you guarantee the safety of your haunted house? He might actually die of fright in there!"

"I’m telling you, if anything happens to my brother, you’re finished."

Wang Hui simply shook his head calmly. "I can already smell the scent of someone wetting their pants—he should be coming out soon."

The two were speechless.