Nightmare-Level Mission

"I believe you are still curious about whether ghosts truly exist in this world. Come play a little game; the truth lies in the moment you open your eyes."

The description for the Nightmare-level mission was incredibly vague. It didn't specify what needed to be done, only leaving one with an eerie, unsettling feeling.

"Judging by the mission introduction, it seems to be a game, but can merely playing a game really be classified as Nightmare-level?" To complete a Normal-level mission, he had gone without rest for several hours straight, only just managing to repair all the dolls within the time limit.

Scrolling through his phone, Chen Ge felt his curiosity piqued: "Should I... give it a try?"

Once this thought appeared, it spread through his mind uncontrollably, like creeping vines.

"Nightmare-level missions offer the highest rewards. Besides, I have no confidence in completing the Simple or Normal missions that refreshed today, so I might as well take a gamble."

If he couldn't survive the off-season, the House of Horrors would have to be sold off and shut down. Chen Ge was well aware of his current predicament, and having finally caught a glimmer of hope for change, he was naturally unwilling to let any opportunity slip by.

"That's decided. I have to experience a Nightmare-level mission sooner or later anyway."

Sitting up from his bed, Chen Ge tapped on the final mission.

"Confirm acceptance of the Nightmare-level daily mission? Once accepted, it may trigger unknown circumstances."

"Confirm."

The phone screen flashed, and the true mission details emerged.

"To see the other world, one requires exceptional courage, extraordinary luck, and a little bit of help."

"Anything can happen in the dark. Perhaps a strange face will appear in the mirror, a pair of scarlet eyes might be peering from a corner, or blood might seep from the walls and door cracks. All you must do is remain unmoved and stand quietly in front of the mirror."

"The mission will automatically succeed after half an hour, provided that no matter what happens during this time, you do not open your eyes."

After reading the mission description, Chen Ge felt a chill: "Could there really be another world that ordinary people cannot see?"

It was still early before 2:04 AM, so he didn't rush to set off, instead searching online for information related to this game.

Before long, Chen Ge actually found some accounts. Some claimed to be plagued by misfortune after playing, others were vague and mentioned a disfigured face, and some even went missing from their own homes, suspected of being dragged into the world inside the mirror.

"They describe it so vividly and realistically, just like ghost stories." The more Chen Ge read, the more curious he became. He ran a haunted house himself, constantly pondering how to scare people and how to provide tourists with a more thrilling experience within safe limits. After reading the various descriptions of this game, he felt as if a new door was opening.

"Playing a horror game alone in a haunted house in the middle of the night—just thinking about it is exciting!"

He checked his phone's battery, feeling that this historic moment was worth recording.

"I'll record the whole thing later. If it's truly that terrifying, perhaps my House of Horrors can add a new attraction." He rummaged through cabinets for a candle and a lighter, and when it hit 2:00 AM, he took his prepared items to the first-floor restroom of the haunted house.

Chen Ge had carefully considered why he chose the first-floor restroom for this game: if something truly terrifying occurred during the process, he could jump out the window and escape.

The haunted house was deathly silent in the dead of night. A young man who would risk his life to save on electricity held a flashlight and a candle, locking himself into the narrow, cramped restroom without much hesitation.

"A confined, pitch-black environment is most effective at triggering inner fear. The restroom is also the place with the heaviest yin energy in the entire building. Mirrors, stall doors, and sinks—these props seem ordinary, but they are actually the things in daily life most capable of inducing psychological suggestion. The person who designed this game is clever; they know how to grasp the weaknesses deep within a person's heart, using a simple environment to create the deepest terror." Chen Ge had a profound understanding of horror that set him apart from others, analyzing and learning as he went.

"True fear doesn't actually require many expensive props. You only need to amplify the unease deep within the tourist's heart, and they will be defeated by themselves." Chen Ge took a deep breath, turned on his phone's camera, and spoke to the screen: "I don't know what consequences this game will bring. If I meet with an accident, I hope whoever finds this phone will take note: please preserve this video. It will be a key—a key to unlocking the lock of lies."

After speaking, Chen Ge fixed the phone next to the sink, the angle perfectly capturing both himself and the mirror opposite him.

"It's 2:01 AM. Three minutes left."

Waiting for death is more terrifying than death itself. In the silent restroom, every rustle was amplified, and as the time drew closer, Chen Ge's heartbeat grew faster.

He watched the time on his phone screen. When the minute hand pointed to the four, he turned off the flashlight, lit the candle, and placed it between the mirror and himself.

The flickering flame became the only light source in the darkness, standing between the mirror and reality like a soul-guiding lamp, as if trying to lure something out from within the glass.

Chen Ge looked at his reflection in the mirror and vaguely felt something was off: "Has the game started?"

He slowly lowered his head, closed his eyes, and whispered his own name.

"Chen Ge, Chen Ge, Chen Ge..."

Constantly chanting one's own name causes a sense of unfamiliarity to slowly emerge, much like repeatedly writing a Chinese character until, in the end, you no longer recognize it.

To avoid this, Chen Ge counted to three silently after each time he said his name; he was also using this to keep track of time.

After all, the prerequisite for the mission's success was that no matter what happened within the half-hour, he could not open his eyes to look.

"Past 2:00 AM, alone in a haunted house, lighting a candle, eyes closed, standing in front of a mirror playing a game. If I weren't experiencing this myself, I would never believe anyone would do such a thing." Chen Ge chanted his name silently, struggling to keep his mind from wandering.

"This game is full of psychological suggestion. The hardest part isn't dealing with so-called ghosts or legends, but restraining oneself. As long as I don't open my eyes, there shouldn't be any danger."

Easier said than done. After the first ten minutes passed, the unexpected occurred.