Chapter 50: Setting Fifty

Setting Fifty: Supernatural Research Club (Part 3)

“Ah—A-Yuan, talk to me, I’m scared…”

Night Lily clung nervously to Paper Iris’s arm, glancing around furtively. According to their arrangement, the guys were handling the second floor, the girls the first: Tapioca and Milk Tea were exploring the living and dining rooms; Crimson Rose and Hyacinth were checking the kitchen; and they were investigating the bedroom by the stairs.

Paper Iris’s face was no better than Night Lily’s, but her tone remained brusque: “What’s there to be scared of? I’m here… hey, look over there, a vanity!”

She pushed open the half-closed bedroom door, and they immediately spotted the vanity on the other side of the large bed. Most importantly, it had a mirror.

“Lucky~” Paper Iris charged into the bedroom first, rounding the bed toward the vanity.

“A-Yuan, wait for me…”

Night Lily stumbled after her—but paused as she passed the bed. Her gaze was drawn to a photo hanging on the opposite wall. It was a wedding portrait: the bride in white leaned against the groom, a handsome couple. Perhaps due to poor lighting, their faces were shadowed with a deathly pallor.

She timidly looked away, scanned the room—larger and more luxurious than an average bedroom—and whispered to Paper Iris: “This might be the master bedroom.”

“Mm, mm.” Paper Iris replied absently, trying to move the vanity. “Help me push.”

“1, 2, 3—!”

“Ugh!” Paper Iris kicked the immobile vanity in frustration. “If I could use my [♠9 King’s Fist], this little thing would be nothing—I could lift the whole house!”

Right—without Setting Cards, they were just ordinary people with no strength.

“The vanity’s fixed to the wall. We need a large mirror we can place in the center of a room.” Night Lily sat on the vanity’s matching chair to recover MP. “Maybe the others will find something. Let’s look for other items first. This is the master bedroom—there should be plenty of clues.”

Paper Iris pulled open the vanity drawers, overwhelmed by the trinkets—she was terrible with details.

“You search here, I’ll look over there.”

“Okay.”

Night Lily opened each drawer, carefully sorting and cataloging: upper-left—cosmetics, lower-left—jewelry, upper-right—headpieces, middle-right—accessories, lower-right…

Her hand paused. The last drawer was almost empty—just a single box in the large space.

She lifted it out—a jade jewelry box, palm-sized, its carvings seamless. If not for the crack and lock, she’d have thought it a flawless artwork.

She tried to open it with her fingernail—and unsurprisingly failed.

I’ll need a key. What kind, I wonder…

She brought the box closer to examine the keyhole—and caught a faint floral scent.

So familiar—what is it…

“Xiao Ye, Xiao Ye—there’s a walk-in closet here… haha, look what I found—”

The sudden call nearly made her drop the box. Startled, she turned to see Paper Iris dragging a 2-meter-tall full-length mirror from the closet.

“Th-that’s great.” Night Lily stammered.

“I’ll go get the others~” Paper Iris puffed with pride and pattered out.

Night Lily exhaled. She carefully set the jade box on the vanity—and as she stood, a flash of inspiration struck: she remembered the scent!

Her heart pounded with excitement. She sat back down, opened the upper-right drawer, and among the headpieces selected a magnolia-shaped hairpin.

Magnolia, magnolia… that’s it—the scent of magnolias!

Holding her breath, she brought the hairpin close to the jewelry box’s keyhole.

Click.

A magnolia flower blossomed on the jade surface, and the lock opened with a crisp sound. A surge of satisfaction filled her—through the mirror, she caught a glimpse of someone behind her, probably Paper Iris returning with the others.

Excitedly, she looked up: “Come qui—”

Her expression froze. In the mirror, she saw another person standing three meters behind her.

That person… wasn’t Paper Iris, wasn’t Crimson Rose, wasn’t Hyacinth—wasn’t anyone who’d entered the mansion with them.

She spun around, her hand instinctively reaching into her Toy Box for a Setting Card to attack—then stopped. Not because she remembered she was an “ordinary person,” but because behind her… there was no one.

Just the dim bedroom, the walk-in closet door open, the mirror half-dragged out—no one at all.

I saw wrong—yes, just a trick of the light…

Her mind chanted frantically to calm her racing heart. She turned back to the mirror, ready to stand—and froze at the two figures reflected in it.

One was her. The other was…

Her pupils contracted to pinpoints: the mirror’s dim light distorted images, but it couldn’t distort them like this!

That “person” slumped with hunched shoulders, standing limply. Its whole silhouette looked headless at first glance, but closer inspection revealed its head pressed against its shoulder. For a head to touch a shoulder without a gap, the shoulder had to be raised; for it to rest on a drooping shoulder, the neck had to be bent at an unnatural 135-degree angle.

Terror crept up her spine. Trembling, she watched the mirror: that slumped, head-tilted figure stood behind her—closer than before.

Her mind went blank. Instinctively, she turned to look—

But there was nothing.

The bedroom was still empty, save for her. The couple in the portrait smiled gloomily, like a funeral photo.

She swallowed hard; the sound echoed through the empty room, chilling her to the bone. There was something else in the room. She couldn’t see it—but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there.

The only way to see “that thing” was…

With all her strength, she turned back, her gaze trembling toward the mirror. Her reflection looked like it was crying and laughing—twisted, just like the thing behind her.

Ugly—terrifying—don’t look—I don’t want to look—I don’t want to see, I don’t want to see…!!

Her hands and feet went cold. She couldn’t even stand. Stiffly, she averted her eyes, staring at the empty room—but her mind was full of the mirror’s image: that crooked-necked figure standing a meter away, close enough to see its clotted, bloody hair, close enough to smell its rusty iron stench, close enough to reach out and grab her neck—

She shook violently, her head jerking left and right, trying to find the ghost she was too afraid to look at but had to track.

Not there! Not there! Nowhere! Where—where is it—where?!

Her eyes were stretched to the breaking point, bloodshot—yet they reflected nothing.

Can’t find it! Can’t find it anywhere! It’s going to kill me—it’s coming to kill me! Leave—I have to leave!

She lifted her weak legs and stumbled toward the door—but after one step, a cold breath brushed the back of her neck, raising every hair on end. As if that “thing” were pressed against her back, its head hanging over her shoulder, right by her neck—breathing in and out—

Her taut nerves snapped like a violin string played to its limit. Mesmerized, her neck—and her numb head—turned, inch by inch, ever so slowly…

The moment she saw the mirror’s reflection, she let out a deathly scream.

“AAAAHHHH—!!!”

The girls went downstairs, leaving Shan Ziwei to face Host’s wooden expression in silent despair.

So he really did have to partner with Host after all… QQ

As dangerous as exploring the second floor—where ghosts had already appeared—might be, he’d rather face that than be paired with his black history. It was SP loss waiting to happen.

Worse, this Chessboard emphasized teamwork and relationship role-play. Though he wanted to play dead, he had to force himself to speak to Host.

“Didn’t get a chance earlier,” he said with a dry smile. “Small world, huh…”

—I really wish I’d never see you again.

Host looked up slightly, his dark eyes seeming to see through Shan Ziwei’s true thoughts. So he did something.

The black-haired youth opened his hand, and an old-fashioned mini desktop computer appeared in his palm—complete with monitor, keyboard, mouse, and CPU. The screen flickered for a moment, then displayed a symbol: [0v0]

…What the hell?!

Shan Ziwei stared dumbfounded as the mini computer waved its mouse like a hand and summoned a transparent panel.

[Host (Title: The World)
Attribute: Heart
Level: 10]

The flood of information hit him. His first concern wasn’t Host’s stats—it was the computer’s identity: was this thing—

“My Toy Box.” Host said flatly. “Its ability is to designate one player to play together with.”

He looked at the completely stunned white-haired youth and delivered a cruel truth.

“I designated you.”

Shan Ziwei’s vision went dark. No wonder he kept running into Host. This Toy Box ability was useless among friends—you could already choose to play together if you’d added each other. But it was perfect for stalking strangers—especially enemies—and he’d been the unlucky target.

He nearly spat blood. It was like running into your horrible ex everywhere you went—and when you thought it was just bad luck, your ex told you they’d been waiting for you on purpose. That was terrifying. As long as Host wanted to, they’d meet every session, entangled forever, until the end of time.

“Wh-why?!” He screamed internally: Hero! Title-holder! What grudge do you have against me?! Why target a newbie like this?!

A gleam flickered in Host’s eyes, his gaze sharp and intent.

“You’re strong.”

The low voice tapped the darkness. For a moment, Shan Ziwei lost all comprehension, staring at him in disbelief.

Me… strong?

“You have awareness.” Host seemed unaware of the impact of his words, continuing at his own steady pace. “You can keep up with me.”

“…”

Being so “valued” by Host left him with a mix of emotions—bitter, sweet, sour, salty, and spicy all at once. Honestly, he was a little moved. In the 21st century, he’d been a decently known gaming expert—but in the world of full-immersion VR, his gaming pride had been shattered by unfamiliar rules and shameless game designs. He hadn’t expected the first person to acknowledge him to be Host—and of all people, Host, who he had “history” with…

“Thank you.” He didn’t know what else to say. Despite Host’s condescending attitude—”I play with you because I think you’re worthy”—he had the right to be arrogant. Not just the maxed level and title-holder status, but from their encounters, Host was the only player who could make Shan Ziwei feel genuine fear and helplessness.

That man didn’t seem to be playing the game—he was dissecting it into steps and executing them mechanically.

In short, like a… walkthrough.

That kind of person was terrifying as an enemy, but as an ally, they were the most reassuring backup.

His palms were sweaty. He looked at Host’s handsome face, his voice clipped with tension: “So… partners?”

Host didn’t answer. His silence was so flat it was as if Shan Ziwei had stated something obvious—like “the sun rises in the east.” Their partnership was as natural and certain as the sunrise.

Shan Ziwei always seemed to catch the meaning in Host’s silences. He knew it was agreement—so now he had another problem.

[A Adoration (Active)], [A Adoration (Passive)], [A Possessiveness (Passive)], [A Betrayal (Active)]—thinking about the Relationship Setting Cards in his pocket made him want to suffocate. Not a single one of them was something he wanted to use!

The game had already narrowed it down for him—this was a horror-themed Chessboard, targeting Diamond SP (Fear). That ruled out the two “Adoration” cards. That left “Possessiveness” and “Betrayal”…

Lose your dignity or lose your humanity—that was the choice.

After agonizing for a long time, he tremblingly pulled out [A Possessiveness (Passive)] and showed it to Host.

[A Possessiveness
Type: Passive Relationship
Effect: When someone close to you is harmed by him, restore 10% Diamond SP.
Description: I am yours. Only yours.]

Host nodded in acknowledgment. His wordless cooperation relieved Shan Ziwei—Host, with his maxed level, was surely used to these shameless mechanics and wouldn’t be as embarrassed as him. He waited politely for Host to reciprocate, but when nothing happened, he couldn’t help asking: “Don’t you need a relationship… I mean, is there anything you need me to cooperate with?”

—Wait, talking about Relationship Setting Cards was embarrassing enough—if Host didn’t need his cooperation, that was even better!

He realized his mistake the moment the words left his mouth, regretting it instantly. But Host seemed to consider it. The black-haired youth lowered his lashes, thought for a moment, then tapped his mini computer.

The CPU’s indicator light flickered, and the disc drive ejected a Setting Card.

[A Adoration
Type: Active Relationship
Effect: When you show affection to him/her and he/she shows affection to you afterward, restore 10% Heart SP.
Description: Daddy, Mommy—kiss me, hold me~]

Shan Ziwei: …Wait, WHAT?!

Heart SP (Joy)? In a horror Chessboard, they were restoring Joy, not Fear?!

A thousand black guys with question marks filled his mental screen—like watching a horror movie alone, your companion unmoved, even amused.

“You… sure you’ve got the right one?”

Host answered with action. A flash of blue light—[A Adoration (Active)] was used.

Now Shan Ziwei was trapped. Thinking about that effect, his face was paler than any ghost in this mansion.

—Fear not a godlike opponent—fear a teammate who doesn’t play by the rules!