Invasion of reality (3)
Hearing that chilling and bone-deep question, Chen Li was so terrified he opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound—before he could utter anything, a piercing scream echoed in his mind.
System 001: [Aaaaah!!!]
Chen Li forcibly swallowed back the scream that had almost escaped. With a quick turn of his feet, he leapt straight into the nearby flowerbed, silently apologizing to the trampled plants in his heart. Using the waist-high bushes as cover, he dodged the female ghost’s first attack.
The ghost missed again and let out a furious shriek, like a wild beast provoked. She lunged at Chen Li with elongated fingernails aimed straight at his back.
Those claws could tear through a steel plate—if they hit a person, it would mean flesh ripped open and blood everywhere.
Already exhausted, Chen Li felt a pang of despair. Just as he thought he couldn’t dodge in time, something furry and orange darted out from his feet.
“Woof woof woof!!!” A startled corgi barked furiously at the ghost.
Chen Li blinked in surprise: “Pipi!”
He hadn’t expected that the runaway Pipi had been hiding in the garden all along.
Xiao Qian stopped in her tracks: “Oh no, my little dog.”
Grinning wickedly, she reached out to grab it—but just as her hand was about to touch Pipi, she yelped in pain and pulled back as if burned.
It was like she’d touched something terrifying. The skin on her right hand turned unnaturally red, and she let out a wretched scream.
Reacting quickly, Chen Li scooped up Pipi and bolted toward his apartment building. He ran nonstop all the way home, locked the door behind him, and finally set the dog down, panting heavily.
Pipi was clearly shaken too. Trembling, he curled up close to Chen Li, whimpering pitifully.
Catching his breath, Chen Li dragged his weary body to the couch: [001, what the hell is going on?]
He glanced at his phone—the time showed 9 PM, and the TV still displayed static.
System 001, recovering from its shock, responded: [They have merged.]
[What?]
System 001: [The Horror Game and the real world have merged!!]
Chen Li gripped his phone tightly.: [You mean the supernatural elements from the Horror Game are appearing in the real world?]
System 001 thought for a moment: [More accurately, the Horror Game has invaded reality. The whole point of those NPCs collecting “fear points” was to prepare for this. Originally, there was no ghostly energy in your world—but now that a breach has opened, it’s pouring in. If it continues, your world will become a supernatural world too.]
System 001: [Fortunately, the Horror Game has its own rules and limitations. Even in the game, ghosts can only kill under certain conditions—and that still applies in the real world. That dog is the perfect example.]
Chen Li paused and looked down at Pipi, who was circling him closely.
Pipi looked up at him with shiny black eyes: “Woof!”
No wonder the ghost had been burned when she tried to kill Pipi. It must have been one of the rules tied to using Xiao Qian’s body—she couldn’t harm her own dog.
Chen Li’s nose stung with emotion as he hugged Pipi and gave the corgi’s chubby butt a squeeze: “Your owner protected us.”
Pipi didn’t understand, but barked twice more and licked his human’s hand with his tongue.
System 001: [This dog might be the first—and probably the only—creature that instantly recognized its owner was possessed.]
Chen Li gently rubbed the dog’s ears, feeling a bit down.
This detail matched the lie the female ghost had crafted. She had said that Pipi suddenly went wild barking at a certain spot before running away in fear. That “spot” turned out to be her.
Chen Li thought for a moment: [001, about Xiao Qian…]
System 001 already knew what he was going to ask and answered firmly: [She’s dead. You saw her body change just now—no living person could twist like that. Even if we forced the ghost out of her, her soul had already dissipated.]
It was the first time someone he knew had died because of a supernatural incident. Chen Li felt lost, realizing just how terrifying it was for the Horror Game to start encroaching on reality. Anyone could die from a paranormal encounter—his friends, his teachers, even himself. People would be living in constant fear, and nightfall would become synonymous with danger.
He got up and boiled some chicken for Pipi. During the process, he forced himself to calm down, though his hands and feet remained icy cold.
System 001: [You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to look for him. Nighttime is far too dangerous for someone with your constitution.]
Other people might be able to walk safely down brightly lit streets, but if the host dared to go out now, he’d be torn apart by ghosts in minutes.
It was obvious who “him” referred to.
“Yeah.” Chen Li carried the chicken out of the kitchen. That was his plan anyway.
Fu Moyang still hadn’t contacted him. Maybe something had happened. But he couldn’t afford to panic right now.
After watching Pipi finish eating, Chen Li used an old shirt to make a temporary nest for it. Only then did he lie on the bed with his phone, replying to the flood of messages asking if he was safe.
To his surprise, someone had even created a fan thread for him on Weibo.
He browsed through it—and immediately exited with his face burning.
Wh-Why were these netizens so bold…?
Words like “贴贴” was considered one of the milder things they were saying. They were calling him “wifey” with such enthusiasm that it made the comments on his livestream look tame in comparison.
Chen Li was even a little relieved that Fu Moyang hadn’t seen any of it. With his personality, he’d get jealous in an instant…
System 001, taking initiative, helped him set up an officially verified Weibo account. The username was simply his real name, and the bio said: “Champion of the Golden Butterfly Youth Division.”
The profile picture, however, was of a giant wolf wrapping its tail possessively around a tiny lamb, which was barely the size of its paw.
The moment he saw it, Chen Li’s face turned bright red.
Others might think it was some kind of cool special effect, but he recognized it immediately—that was from two instances ago. Him and Fu Moyang. He hadn’t expected the system to capture that exact moment.
System 001 shamelessly admitted to his sneakiness: [I’ve been recording videos of every instance too.]
Face flushing, Chen Li pulled the blanket over his head and decided to ignore the system for now.
As soon as the account was verified, System 001 used his powers to give it a quick boost. Fans flooded in instantly.
Everyone was stuck at home and bored, so their responses were especially enthusiastic.
Looking at the rapidly growing follower count, Chen Li felt a warmth in his heart. He posted a short Weibo update: “Stay safe.”
The image he included was a quick sketch he’d drawn earlier.
The comment section lit up immediately.
[Aaaaah, the drawing is so cute!]
[You’re finally here!]
[Take care and stay safe!]
The comments started off fairly normal, but soon enough, it turned into a full-blown emotional outpouring from fans. One desperate comment, practically written in blood begging his “wife” to livestream again, was upvoted to the top.
Blushing and flustered, Chen Li quickly closed Weibo. Only after logging out did he notice that Gu Fu had replied to him almost instantly.
Even though Gu Fu had tried to kill him in the previous instance, he didn’t actually know Chen Li’s identity and hadn’t really hurt him. Aside from some lingering awkwardness, Chen Li genuinely hoped nothing bad would happen to his childhood friend. Seeing Gu Fu’s message first made him breathe a sigh of relief—then his heart began to race.
Gu Fu: [I’m just glad you’re okay. Don’t go out at night for the next few days.]
Gu Fu: [I’ll be discharged the day after tomorrow. If you have time, can we talk? There’s a lot I want to say to you.]
Chen Li hesitated for a moment before replying with a simple [Okay.]
As the second-ranked player on the leaderboard, Gu Fu might know things that even the system couldn’t detect.
With unease lingering in his chest, Chen Li slowly closed his eyes, trying to relax his tense body.
. . . . .
When the clock struck midnight, the bathroom mirror fogged up. Droplets of water trickled down its edges, gradually merging to form a humanoid shape out of mist.
Step by wet step, it walked out of the bathroom. It reached toward the person tossing and turning in bed, gently resting a hand on his ankle.
“Big brother, come play with me.”
With a metallic clang, Chen Li opened his eyes and found himself in an unfamiliar environment.
To his shock, he realized he was no longer in his own room, but in a completely unfamiliar one. Judging by the overwhelmingly pink decor, it clearly belonged to an innocent, pampered little girl. The entire room was drenched in shades of pink—pink walls, pink bedsheets, and dolls scattered across both the bed and the floor.
Am I dreaming?
Chen Li tried to pinch himself, but realized he had no physical form. His translucent body couldn’t touch anything, and no matter how he called out to the system, there was no response.
Did I become a wandering spirit in my own dream?
Just as he was struggling to make sense of it all, he suddenly heard arguing outside the room. He couldn’t pass through the white door, so he pressed his ear lightly against it, trying to listen.
At first, the voices were muffled and distant, like they were behind a thick wall. But then, they rapidly grew clearer, drawing closer.
It was a child arguing with two adults.
“You’re the older sister—why can’t you give in to your little sister?!”
“She’s not in good health, you need to be more understanding.”
“She’s still so young. As her big sister, you need to act more mature.”
“Get away from me!” the girl screamed, clutching her head.
Her outburst abruptly silenced the adults outside. A moment later, the door burst open and then slammed shut again with a loud bang.
A young girl, around eight or nine years old, with her hair tied in pigtails, stormed into the room, clutching something tightly in her arms. Without hesitation, she threw herself onto the bed.
Even though Chen Li knew dreams were often illogical, he was still stunned when he saw what the girl was holding.
It was a sleeping infant.
But from the argument just now, hadn’t it sounded like this older sister hated her little sister?
The girl didn’t seem to notice the spirit presence in the room. She gently shifted the baby into a more comfortable position so it was sitting upright in her lap. The movement woke the baby, who immediately started crying—mouth wide open, wailing loudly, tiny fists waving in distress.
“Waaah—waaah—”
Amid the baby’s noisy cries, the little girl smiled innocently, as if she heard nothing at all.
“Let’s play house, little sister.”