Chapter 48: Setting Forty-Eight

Setting Forty-Eight: Supernatural Research Club (Part 1)

If there was one person Shan Ziwei least wanted to meet in Role-Play, Host was definitely at the top. Unfortunately, that black-haired youth seemed bound to him by some kind of ill-fated connection—they ran into each other almost every session… Wait, Shan Ziwei thought for a moment, and his mood darkened: it wasn’t “almost”—it was every Adventure Mode session that had this walking disaster!

At that moment, he realized Story Mode wasn’t actually that bad…

While he was internally conflicted, Host looked up. He seemed to consider for a moment, then stepped forward and silently embraced the white-haired youth.

“………………”

No amount of ellipses could capture Shan Ziwei’s feelings at that moment. With a blank expression, he asked: “What are you doing?”

His voice was perfectly calm—but his fluctuating SP (Joy, Anger, Fear) bars betrayed his breaking point.

Host’s reply was equally flat: “Holding you.”

Behind them came a chorus of gasps from the girls. Shan Ziwei’s ears turned purple with embarrassment. The combination of subjective shame and involuntary physical reaction made his very soul tremble. Just as he decided to explode rather than stay silent, Host let go.

The black-haired youth’s voice was flat, his expression cold: “You said so.”

[Flashback]

“Sorry—”

“… (Hug)”

[End Flashback]

Shan Ziwei’s fury shifted to lamenting the richness of the Chinese language—why did he have to start an apology with “sorry”?! And even then, why did he only say the first word?!

Another entry added to his black history. Clutching his depleted SP bars, he backed away and laughed bitterly: “…Thanks a lot.”

Host said nothing, looking away indifferently as if the whole thing hadn’t happened.

A cough came from behind. Seeing the commotion had settled, a clear-voiced girl spoke up.

“Looks like the eight of us are this Chessboard’s participants.”

Shan Ziwei turned. At first glance, all he’d noticed was “lots of girls.” Counting them now: six girls, plus him and Host—exactly eight. Because of his condition, he was hypersensitive to interpersonal distances. From their spacing, the six girls seemed to form two groups: the two on the left stood close together, likely friends in real life; the four on the right, though more spread out, were still in proximity and formed a loose formation—clearly a team.

A ponytailed girl from the four-person group spoke next; her crisp voice matched the first speaker: “As high-level players, we all know what an 8-player start means.”

Shan Ziwei almost raised his hand: No—the guy in front of you is still a newbie! Please take care of him!

But seeing no reaction from the others—or rather, seeing everyone nod in agreement—a horrifying thought formed: Was he the only one here who wasn’t at least Level 5… right?

Poor Level-3 sufferer almost cried. Level 5 was a major threshold—not only did your stats jump, but the game unlocked more features and modes. A Level 5+ player and a below-Level-5 were worlds apart.

That’s why he didn’t want to run into Host. Not only did it resurrect all their tangled history—it meant the Chessboard would be scaled to a difficulty he, as a newbie, couldn’t handle. Look at that starting player count—more players meant a harder Chessboard. Trapped among high-level players, he was doomed…

“I know, I know—this is at least L3 difficulty!” The shorter of the two-girl group responded excitedly.

“L” was player-defined difficulty coefficient. Higher numbers meant harder—no upper limit. With the game devs’ sadistic tendencies, anything was possible.

“I think it might be more than that.” The ponytailed girl shook her head with a sigh. “Look at our settings.”

Shan Ziwei turned to his settings panel—one line had already appeared under System Settings.

[Setting 1: You are an ordinary person. You have no extra possessions and no special skills.]

The moment he read it, he felt like the game devs had hit him with a club. His mind flooded with “WTF” and nothing else.

“This is…?” The two-girl group looked puzzled.

“Is this your first time encountering this?” Another girl from the four-person group adjusted her glasses. “Let me explain.”

“These are two of the three most infamous settings in the game.” The glasses girl raised a finger. “‘No extra possessions’ means you have nothing beyond yourself. As a setting, it means we cannot use any items from our Toy Boxes this Chessboard.”

“Anything?!”

“Yes. Think about it—if you ‘have nothing,’ and then you produce something, isn’t that violating the setting?”

“Oh, I think I get it…” The other member of the two-girl group nodded thoughtfully. “And ‘no special skills’ means no skills at all? No skills… um… can’t use Setting Cards to add skills?”

The glasses girl pushed up her glasses with her raised index finger. “And no equipment. Equipment from Setting Cards ultimately boosts your stats too.”

“I see.” The shorter girl complained: “That really is annoying. With those, what kind of players are we anymore…”

Indeed, stripped of “possessions” and “skills,” they were reduced to ordinary people just like in real life. In other words, all game items and Setting Cards were cheats. Without those crutches, they became “ordinary people” in the game.

While the girls explained, Shan Ziwei stole a glance at Host—the black-haired youth seemed uninterested, eyes lowered, lost in thought.

He had the studio’s materials, so he knew all this. Host clearly knew too—he was a title-holding top-tier player after all. This particular sufferer quietly suspected that the Chessboard was so hard—multiplayer start, item and skill bans—was partly his fault.

The shorter girl complained for a while, then remembered something: “Oh, you said there were three infamous settings—what’s the last one?”

“‘No extra possessions’ seals items, ‘no special skills’ seals equipment and skills. What’s left is only ‘relationships.'” The glasses girl’s tone grew heavier. “So the last setting seals all Relationship Setting Cards: ‘No One to Turn To.'”

No One to Turn To—no support, no home, ultimately alone, desolate, and isolated.

Though “No Extra Possessions” and “No Special Skills” were more restrictive, Shan Ziwei would rather face those two than “No One to Turn To.” Even as a fake in-game setting, it was a vicious curse to him.

—Being alone was just too lonely.

“These three settings are troublesome, but they’re also a hint,” the ponytailed girl took over as the two-girl group processed the three cursed settings.

“This Chessboard seals items and Setting Cards, leaving only Relationship Setting Cards. That means relationship role-play is crucial to clearing this board.”

She extended a friendly hand to the two-girl group. A thorny, petal-clothed flower spirit doll sat in her arm, appearing before everyone.

“I’m ‘Crimson Rose.’ Glad to play with you all.”

Shan Ziwei was surprised—usually you only showed your Toy Box to people you knew; some functions required the Toy Box to be visible, like adding friends or sharing info. Crimson Rose was doing the latter: her flower spirit Toy Box raised its tiny hand and traced a semi-transparent panel in the air.

[Crimson Rose
Attribute: Diamond
Level: 8
Tea Party: Mystic Garden]

The girls beside her exchanged glances and summoned their Toy Boxes too.

The glasses girl held a bookish doll wearing glasses like hers.

[Hyacinth
Attribute: Heart
Level: 7
Tea Party: Mystic Garden]

The other two quiet girls:

[Paper Iris
Attribute: Spade
Level: 7
Tea Party: Mystic Garden]

[Night Lily
Attribute: Club
Level: 7
Tea Party: Mystic Garden]

Crimson Rose was Level 8; the others were all Level 7—a classic team with balanced levels. The attributes also revealed their roles: Crimson Rose—Tank, Hyacinth—Healer, Paper Iris—DPS, Night Lily—Control. Classic Role-Play team composition. And the shared “Tea Party” name was the most eye-catching.

The shorter girl’s eyes widened: “Oh, I’ve heard of you! You’re the all-girls tea party!”

“Tea Party” was Role-Play’s version of guilds, clans, or alliances. Well-known tea parties usually had a game studio backing them. The fat guy’s materials had covered this, but since he was low-level—and joining required at least Level 5—he’d skimmed over it.

Paper Iris, who’d been quiet, proudly stroked her iris-shaped Toy Box: “That’s right—you two introduce yourselves too.”

Her tone bordered on commanding, spoiled. Night Lily grew flustered and timidly apologized to the two-girl group: “P-please don’t mind her—that’s just how she talks…”

“I didn’t—” Night Lily tugged at Paper Iris, who seemed annoyed but fell silent.

The two-girl group waved off the concern and summoned their Toy Boxes.

[Milk Tea
Attribute: Heart
Level: 6]

[Tapioca Milk Tea
Attribute: Heart
Level: 6]

“Call me Tapioca, call her Milk Tea.” The shorter girl—Tapioca Milk Tea—hugged Milk Tea’s arm. “We don’t look like it, but we’re twins. We just hit Level 6 yesterday—nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too.” Crimson Rose smiled. “We can cooperate and use Relationship Setting Cards together.”

“Oh—” Tapioca turned to the two guys who’d become practically invisible. When her gaze landed on Host, she blushed slightly. “What about you two? Come over and introduce yourselves.”

Shan Ziwei instinctively looked at Host—the black-haired youth had reverted to his initial sullen silence, ignoring Tapioca’s invitation. As someone who feared women, he didn’t have Host’s audacity to disregard them. But his info was too embarrassing—not because he feared being looked down on, but because it would affect the game. In-game, no one sympathized with the weak—they treated them as dead weight or cannon fodder.

So he gave an awkward smile to the girls: “I’m GFanzi.”

Feeling that was insufficient, he pointed to Host: “He’s Host.”

As he’d hoped, the girls’ attention shifted to Host—but their reactions varied: Tapioca didn’t mind being ignored; instead, she excitedly whispered to Milk Tea. The Mystic Garden four glanced at Host and looked away with subtle discomfort. From the start, he’d sensed the Mystic Garden girls were vaguely ignoring him and Host—their treatment of men and women was night and day. He touched his nose—they seemed somewhat… hostile to men?

Given that it was an all-girls tea party, it wasn’t hard to imagine their leader had had some conflict with men, prompting the creation of Mystic Garden. Their mainstream ideology likely leaned toward being wary of the opposite sex.

“Alright, we’ve wasted enough time.” Crimson Rose raised her voice, drawing attention back. “Time to start the Chessboard.”

“Check your pockets.” Hyacinth waved a piece of paper. “There’s something there.”

Shan Ziwei reached into his pants pocket—they all wore matching uniforms: guys in shirts and trousers, girls in shirts and skirts, with a ghost logo on their chests.

His hands touched two different papers—one soft, folded A4 paper on the left; one stiff cardstock on the right. He pulled out the card first—a Relationship Setting Card. As Crimson Rose had said, relationship role-play was key this round.

[A Betrayal
Type: Active Relationship
Effect: When you betray him, restore 10% Diamond SP.
Description: Sorry—I can’t go on with you anymore.]

Just looking at it made his heart race. Guilty, he stuffed it back in his pocket—a card that could cause a bloodbath. If anyone saw it, even if he meant no harm, everyone would be on guard.

He quickly pulled out the other paper and unfolded it. It seemed to be a promotional flyer, in flashy colors designed to excite readers.

[☆★☆ Haunted House Operation ☆★☆

Are you bored with ordinary life? Can’t find excitement?

Yeah~ Don’t worry, don’t fret—we’ve prepared a supernatural feast just for you!

(Image: black-and-white photo of a house)

Some say, near the empty house, they’ve heard a woman crying inside.

Some say, the windows of that empty house often have shadows passing by.

One summer 23 years ago, a mailman accidentally opened the door—and found the horrifying corpses of a family of three.

That’s right—the famous haunted site: Manda Mansion!

(Slogan: Manda Mansion! A locally famous haunted house! Worth exploring!)

Others say it’s all nonsense—just rumors.

Truth? Fiction? A paranormal event? Or just a hoax?

That’s where we, the Supernatural Research Club members, come in.

Activities:

1. Gather at Manda Mansion on Friday, May 13, 2016, at 5:13 PM;
2. Explore the mansion and uncover paranormal events;
3. Play spiritual games: Mirror Ghost, Hide and Seek, Wall Touching, Ouija Board (choose your favorites).

Dear supernatural researchers—what are you waiting for? Let screams and thrills fly high! Start the operation!

Our motto: No risk, no fun!

Signed: Supernatural Research Club (ghost logo)]

Shan Ziwei: “…”

The flyer was written in a playful tone, but it only darkened the mood over all the players.

This club truly embodied its motto—not only did they visit a haunted house, but they planned to play spiritual games inside it.

The worst part: all the players were members of this reckless club. Their uniforms bore the same logo as on the flyer.

Then the system piled on.

[Setting 2: You are an active member of the Supernatural Research Club, who believes in “No risk, no fun” (0/8). (10:00:00)]

At that moment, Shan Ziwei fully understood the might of an 8-player start with seven high-level players (including a title holder).

What the hell was “No risk, no fun”?! He was certain that if they actually went “risking,” the game would generously fulfill their “no fun” by killing them! But if they didn’t risk eight times, after ten hours, the game would happily kill them for violating the setting—since “no risk, no fun,” if you don’t risk, you die (heart)~

—This difficulty was pure sadism!

Even Crimson Rose couldn’t hide her shock, frowning as she reread the flyer.

“Ugh, I hate this kind of thing.” Tapioca huddled with Milk Tea, eyeing the house across from them with dread. “Are we going into this haunted house now?”

Shan Ziwei turned to look—their left was the house from the flyer’s photo. Whether due to the weather or its decrepit state, it looked dull and gray, withered vines clinging to rotting walls, radiating pure dread.

“Mm… let’s go in.” Crimson Rose glanced at the sky. “Before it gets dark, let’s finish up quickly.”

Paper Iris pulled aside the yellow “Do Not Enter” tape, and the group filed into Manda Mansion’s small front yard. Shan Ziwei and Host brought up the rear. The moment his foot touched the blackened dead grass, his heart lurched—as if an ice hammer had struck it, flooding his body with bone-deep cold that froze even his capillaries.

He didn’t even know how he managed to look up—staring blankly at the mansion’s second floor.

A row of windows, hidden behind grimy curtains of unidentifiable color. Through the moth-eaten holes, he could glimpse the bottomless darkness within.

His gaze fixed on one hole, where a sharp, pale chin was visible. Against the shadow, it was unnaturally white—rigid as freshly fired porcelain, bathed in an eerie, bluish glow.

He could almost hear his nerves screaming: What—is that thing—?

It—or “he”—seemed to notice him looking. The barely visible lips split into a grin—like the blood-painted smile on a paper effigy for the dead—a deep, bloody crimson.