"The plot is still too thin," Mu Anqi sighed. Once that married-in player goes up the mountain and sees the evil spirit, won't the game end after defeating it? And judging by the looks of it, the other players also plan to go up the mountain together. Even if they don't cooperate to kill the evil spirit, for the players, defeating it wouldn't be very difficult. The game would end too quickly.
If it's a ten-player dungeon and the mountain god gets married the next day, wouldn't the clearance speed be even faster?
"I've improved it," Dramatist whispered in rebuttal. "And tonight, we'll gain a lot of emotion points. Even if the game ends quickly, that just means we can start new ones more often."
"And besides, you'll be there on the wedding day," Dramatist continued in a small voice. "Even if it only lasts three days, that's enough to drive those players crazy."
Mu Anqi: "…" So the evil spirit isn't the final boss anymore—I am!
Mu Anqi thought, and that's even assuming General Ji doesn't make a move. If she really joined this dungeon, then it would truly be a case of "no one survives."
…
The players didn't reset the game again. Except for Wang Erma, who was to marry into the family and thus couldn't go out much, the other players did their best to investigate the mountain god's specific stories and deeds. Whether it was "divine wrath," "divine punishment," or "divine blessing," all of it sounded rather unbelievable to them.
Wasn't that just normal natural disasters? And the so-called divine blessings—weren't those natural phenomena too? After such a long drought, it was only normal for rain to fall, right? As for the more mysterious things, like someone on the verge of death suddenly recovering—well, such medical miracles weren't unheard of either. Of course, they couldn't say such things to the villagers. The players didn't want to be forced to reset the game again. Who knew what might happen after too many resets? They had never believed these games to be kind-hearted—their settings were always full of all sorts of twisted amusement.
But no matter how they searched, verified, or asked around, the players couldn't find anything strange about the village. Still, an inexplicable sense of wrongness and unease lingered in their hearts.
Zheng Dajuan hurried home upon hearing her family calling her for dinner. The setting sun over Mountain God Village was blood-red, and the road home seemed to stretch endlessly. An indescribable sense of eeriness filled her, yet every time she turned around, she found nothing there.
It wasn't until she stopped at her doorstep and raised her hand to knock that, out of the corner of her eye, she seemed to see her shadow tremble once again.
…What was going on? C-could it be that the sun was setting, and the "filthy things" in the village were about to appear? Unease filled Zheng Dajuan's heart as she reached for the dagger hidden at her waist, fixing her gaze on her shadow—only to feel a terrifying illusion, as if the shadow was watching her back.
A cool breeze blew past, and the sky darkened as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button. Zheng Dajuan shivered instinctively, the unease in her heart growing stronger and stronger. She stepped quickly into the yard—and suddenly heard the "rustle, rustle" of paper being blown by the wind.
The slanting light of dusk fell across the courtyard, illuminating the Zheng couple waiting at the doorway for her to come home for dinner. The two middle-aged people had dark skin, and when Zheng Dajuan first saw them, she had felt a kind of warmth, reminding her of her grandparents in the countryside and her childhood days.
But now—now, under the sunset's glow, the light passed straight through them. Their once-dark skin seemed to pale, their figures growing unnaturally thin. Their faces were stiff, yet still changed slowly. Zheng Dajuan watched as the corners of their mouths gradually curved upward, each motion looking as if it had been forced into place frame by frame—like watching a stop-motion animation come to life.
They were paper.
Paper people.
The colors on the Zheng couple's bodies grew vivid and sharply contrasted. Zheng Dajuan heard a voice calling her name from their mouths; unable to help herself, she took a step back—at once, the expressions on the two paper figures changed to "shock and suspicion."
She must not expose herself!
Was it because the sun was setting? Because night was coming? Were all the villagers paper people? Were there even any living humans here at all? Had they already noticed the difference between the players and the others? Was the so-called wedding offering to the mountain god just a facade…?
The ordinary tale of feudal superstition suddenly veered madly into the realm of the supernatural. Zheng Dajuan didn't even have the spare focus to wonder what had gone wrong, or what the game's script actually was—or if there even was a script at all. Was this merely a nighttime illusion, or was the night revealing the villagers' true forms…?
She gritted her teeth, forced down her trembling hands, clenched and unclenched her fists several times, then took a deep breath. Smiling, she walked forward and said, "I'm home!"
Mu Anqi, watching the female player's performance on the screen, was a little surprised. She had thought the player would attack outright and tear the paper people apart—only to end up forced into a reset. Seeing the amount of emotion value this one player had contributed in just a few minutes, she nodded in satisfaction. "You were right," she said. "Even if the in-game story only lasts three days before the players clear it, that's perfectly fine."
It wasn't just Zheng Dajuan—other players who had gone home also felt a strange, unsettling unease. It seemed more like a kind of invisible emotional spread or manipulation, yet the players had no idea how to defend against it.
Zhao Tiezhu returned home. Both he and Sun Goudan had been contaminated. Though only a day had passed, they could clearly feel their physical strength slowly, steadily declining. The decline wasn't obvious at first—it crept in subtly, imperceptibly. They had already discussed it with the other players: unless absolutely necessary or they discovered something of extreme importance, they must not reset the game. The reason they gave was "unknown time and reset cost," but in truth, it was mostly selfish—they needed to get the mountain god's divine water as soon as possible to cleanse their contamination.
"Dad!" Zhao Tiezhu called out when he saw his father waiting for him at the doorway, using the form of address specified in his background setting. "What's for dinner today?"
"All your favorites!" Father Zhao's heavily accented words carried warmth, and his wrinkled, weathered face lit up with a radiant smile. Zhao Tiezhu followed him inside, smiling as well—but that strange sense of wrongness and unease in his heart only grew heavier and heavier, though he couldn't say why.
It wasn't until he stepped through the door that he noticed the large tree in the courtyard, its shadow cast wide and long by the setting sun. For an instant, his mind went blank. Stiffly, he turned to glance at his own shadow—then looked toward the space behind his father—there was no shadow.
His mother had already finished cooking and was standing at the doorway, peering out. When she saw the two of them, she smiled happily. "You're back! Go wash your hands and eat!"
Zhao Tiezhu's smile froze as he answered her. There was no shadow behind his mother either.
Ghosts? Were the villagers all dead already? Had the mountain god harvested their souls—or trapped them forever within Mountain God Village, forcing them to repeat the same cycle, over and over, erasing their memories each time? Was this the true nature of the village? The mountain god wasn't benevolent at all! —He had to tell the other players about this tomorrow.
As Zhao Tiezhu thought this, fear crept up inside him uncontrollably. Could a meal made by ghosts even be eaten by humans? What about this "Zhao Tiezhu" identity of his—was it human or ghost? But he still had a shadow! The villagers… had they not noticed anything strange about him? Or perhaps they had—and that was why Wang Erma was the one being given to the mountain god?
In that instant, countless thoughts flashed through his mind. His body stiff yet obedient, he scooped rice into his bowl and sat properly at the corner of the table. The rice grains were distinct, steaming hot—and they had shadows. He looked at the dishes on the table, hesitant and uncertain. But he really hadn't eaten much that afternoon and was already starving.
At noon… there hadn't been anything strange. Was it because at dusk "the hundred ghosts walk at night"? But this wasn't some chil—uh. Zhao Tiezhu clenched his teeth and forced himself to stop thinking. He picked up some food and put it into his mouth. There was nothing wrong when he chewed—it tasted normal. He began eating heartily; the flavor was the same as at noon, without any difference. He kept watching his body and his shadow the whole time, but nothing changed.
"Seems like it's just a visual anomaly," Zhao Tiezhu thought to himself. "Still, I can't let my guard down. It's only dusk—night hasn't fallen yet. Maybe something else will happen later… Luckily, I have my own room. I'll just lock the door when I sleep."
He glanced again at the Zhao couple and couldn't help sighing. These NPCs really didn't seem like they were pretending to be ghosts at all. This game was always pulling weird tricks—this type of scenario was the first he'd ever experienced, and it was giving him a headache.
When Sun Goudan got home, he didn't notice anything unusual. Although he'd been feeling quite uncomfortable, he chalked it up to "not acclimating to the environment." He'd always been prone to that when he was alive—every time he traveled somewhere new, it took him several days to adjust. He was long used to it.
He had a normal dinner and even helped wash the dishes afterward, noticing nothing strange about his family. It wasn't until the sky grew darker that, after heating water for a bath and pouring out the used water in the courtyard, he caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye—there was light coming from his parents' room, and it looked like some dark shadow was moving inside.
A sudden shock ran through him. He quickly stepped back and peered through the window for a while. The curtains were drawn; he could only see the silhouettes—he didn't know whether it was his father or mother. The person's shadow moved strangely, as if something like an octopus was clinging to their head. Sun Goudan thought he saw tentacles writhing atop the shadow's head.
…W-what was that?
Sun Goudan activated his ability, smashed the window, and charged inside. The "person" had their back to him, and the first thing he saw was a pair of long, narrow wings stretching from their back! The creature's entire body was green, covered in layers of scales, with slime dripping onto the floor. And the head—what he'd mistaken for an octopus gripping it—was unnaturally smooth, except for the writhing, octopus-like tendrils sprouting from it…
Without warning, without any chance to prepare, an indescribable, uncontrollable terror seized Sun Goudan. He bent over with a retching sound, vomiting up a mouthful of green mucus. His whole body ached and burned, convulsing uncontrollably. Beads of cold sweat broke out densely across his forehead, and madness and fear flooded his mind. Just as Sun Goudan was on the verge of collapse, Father Sun came over, caught hold of him, and shook him awake. "What's wrong? Where do you feel sick?"
Sun Goudan spat out another mouthful—this time it was just ordinary stomach acid. When he looked at the floor, the green mucus was gone. The "mother" who had been standing there just moments before was now watching him with an uneasy, nervous expression… He tried to say something, but pain stabbed through his brain, his thoughts scattering. He could no longer control his own body well. Supported by Father Sun, he was guided back to bed, the image he'd just seen still flashing again and again before his eyes. Yet… no matter how he tried, he couldn't see it clearly anymore.
Author's Note:
Cthulhu-related content was referenced from Baidu Encyclopedia's entry "Cthulhu (Mythical Being)":
"It depicts a monster vaguely human in outline, but with an octopus-like head covered in numerous tentacles, a body that seems gelatinous and scaled, huge clawed feet, and a pair of long, narrow wings behind it… It has a bloated, obese body… dripping with slime, a massive green form staggering forth from a dark opening, entering human sight… like a walking mountain striding between heaven and earth."
—H. P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu