Chapter Eighteen: Your Haunted House Is Truly Deplorable

"Exactly, exactly! The monk and I ran into the same issue—when we first entered the cell, there was no one there, but then suddenly a headless actor appeared right behind us and scared us half to death."

"By the way, how did you manage that headless actor? It was terrifying! Even now, I still feel like I really saw a ghost."

Of course, Shang Yi knew that what they’d encountered were actual ghosts, but under no circumstances could he admit as much.

After a brief moment’s thought, he first put on an expression that said, “As the owner, I always run an honest business. If I’m lying, you can call the police,” and then, with utter confidence, began to explain:

"The haunted house used to struggle with business, so to boost our performance, we partnered with a major tech company and introduced the latest naked-eye 3D MR technology, which is at the forefront of sound, light, and visual effects."

"MR, or Mixed Reality, is a technology that merges the real and virtual worlds. So what you saw—those terrifying things—were a blend of both virtual and real elements."

"As a result, the effects far exceed what you’d expect, making you feel as though you’ve truly encountered ghosts. This is exactly the experience we strive to deliver for our guests."

"If any of you were overly frightened, that just means our haunted house still needs to fine-tune our levels of terror and scare thresholds. We’ll work to improve this going forward."

"Let me apologize to everyone here today. I hope you’ll leave us a good review online so more people can experience this truly immersive, high-tech haunted house."

Shang Yi’s explanation was airtight, leaving the police academy students—who’d been full of questions—momentarily at a loss.

So it was all cutting-edge tech images? Real actors and virtual scenes combined? What the hell!

Has technology really advanced this far?

Are we just a bunch of country bumpkins who’ve never seen the world, and now we’re finally getting an eye-opener?

Looking around at the bystanders and police academy students, all wearing expressions of half-belief, half-doubt, Shang Yi gave them a look that said, “There are many truths in the world you know nothing about—just look at my confident, wise face and realize how little you understand.”

Among the six police academy students, Yuan Rushuang and Duke were the most naturally courageous.

But the one who knew haunted houses best—and was hardest to fool—was Curly, who had visited many such places.

The other five, whether they’d fainted from fright or not, were all either first-timers or had rarely set foot in a haunted house before.

So deceiving them, passing everything off as high-tech wizardry, was at least somewhat plausible.

But Curly had been to seven haunted houses before; he was familiar with the best effects current haunted houses could muster.

To claim that Shang Yi’s haunted house had reached such an unattainable, almost mythical level—could he really believe that?

After hearing Shang Yi’s eloquent explanation, Curly glanced at Duke, recalling how Duke looked before he fainted, and then after. To insist that all this was high-tech was, frankly, hard to swallow.

Curly was actually quite sharp. He knew that having a ghostly face suddenly appear in a prison cell—whether by a hidden actor or some fancy tech—was easily achievable.

But turning the Duke he first saw into the ghastly, red-eyed, fanged Duke he saw last, that fantastical effect simply wasn’t possible for a haunted house actor. Even saying it was high-tech stretched belief into the realm of science fiction.

This was beyond anything he knew of current technology.

It felt as if only stories from science fiction or fantasy could reach such heights.

For this reason, Curly was left half-convinced, half-skeptical by Shang Yi’s explanation.

---

However, he didn’t actually believe he’d encountered a real ghost, which left him deeply conflicted.

For the first time, he was experiencing a total crisis of faith—questioning both his life and the world around him.

Seeing Curly hesitate as if wanting to speak but holding back, Shang Yi, noticing everyone seemed recovered, decided to get to the bottom of the mysterious white shadow. Using the pretense of a physical check-up, he brought Curly and Duke back into the haunted house for a private conversation.

Shang Yi handed Curly a piece of chocolate. “Take it, brother. Calm your nerves.”

Curly ate it in a few bites. “Boss, just say what you need to say.”

Shang Yi passed over several tissues. “Listen, I want to understand what you saw when you went into the medical storeroom on the second floor.”

Curly still seemed slightly annoyed. “You’re the owner—shouldn’t you know what I saw from the control room?”

Shang Yi quickly handed him an energy drink. “I don’t mean anything by it. This is the first time we’ve run this new scene, and I want to verify a few technical details from a guest’s perspective.”

Curly took a sip, still a bit disgruntled. “To be honest, boss, I’ve been to seven haunted houses before—yours is the eighth.”

“I’ve always been brave. No haunted house ever scared me. But here, not only did I get knocked down, I actually fainted.”

“After this, I’ll be embarrassed to call myself a haunted house enthusiast.”

He wiped his mouth with a tissue, settling his nerves.

Seeing Shang Yi’s friendly smile and sincere service, he decided not to make things awkward. “I only fainted because your haunted house doesn’t play by the usual rules.”

“Usually, no matter how scary the actors are, they might make me jump, but that’s all—they can’t really do anything to me.”

“You probably saw in the surveillance—the actor in the cell did pop up from a tricky angle and gave me a scare.”

“But I recovered right away. Later, I saw the headless actor too, but I wasn’t that scared.”

He glanced at Duke, still clearly shaken. “But, your haunted house really crossed the line, using one of our classmates to mess with us.”

“When I reached the medical storeroom, I saw Duke rummaging through boxes on the floor, like he was looking for medicine, and his eyes were all red.”

“I called his name twice, but he ignored me, and I immediately felt something was wrong.”

Shang Yi smiled. “And then?”

Curly unconsciously pressed a hand to his chest, still trying to dispel the fear. “He turned his head, and I saw that Duke’s head had become a red-eyed, fanged demon. That sight will haunt me forever.”

He paused, seemingly reliving the horror.

“Duke’s my best friend at university. I never imagined a haunted house could turn a guest into a scare actor—so I just couldn’t accept it, not for a moment, and then...”

Shang Yi clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, brother! This was our oversight. We’ll be more careful next time. Go outside and rest for a bit—soak up some sun and calm down.”

Once Curly left, Shang Yi knew the main event was about to begin.

He turned to Duke, who hadn’t spoken once and whose eyes were blank, and even began to worry that the student’s mind might have been affected.

---

“Are you alright?” Shang Yi asked cautiously.

“Oh, I’m fine. Just a bit dazed.”

Duke bent over to rub his foot. “Do you have any medicine? I kicked the sink in the restroom and it still hurts.”

Shang Yi quickly called out to Su Xiaoxue. “Go to the park’s infirmary and get something for bruises. This student hurt his foot.”

Watching Su Xiaoxue dash off, Shang Yi turned back to Duke. “Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Shang Yi knew that for a place like a haunted house—meant for personal entertainment—once it was labeled unsafe, it would be hard to keep operating.

If he couldn’t quickly figure out what that terrifying white shadow in the restroom was, even his own safety could be at risk.

The white shadow in the restroom had shown clear malice toward the living—he could sense it.

It was extremely aggressive and harbored some secret, sinister intent.

Duke had been injured while under its control, Curly had fainted in terror, and Shang Yi himself had been attacked directly. All this left him deeply uneasy and with a growing sense of urgency.

Duke was the first victim; Shang Yi desperately hoped he would also be the last.

Duke didn’t answer immediately, reaching instead for an energy drink and downing it in gulps.

Su Xiaoxue was quick; before Duke finished his drink, she returned with bandages and both internal and external medicine.

She had Duke sit down, and, like a nurse, quickly took off his shoes, checked his foot, applied the medicine, and wrapped it up. In no time, she’d finished treating the injury.

After a few minutes’ rest, the pain in his foot lessened, and Duke finally seemed to recover, though his face was still deathly pale.

He ran a hand through his slightly disheveled hair. “It was all so strange—I don’t even know where to begin.”

“That’s alright—just say whatever comes to mind.” Shang Yi noticed that Duke’s expression was gradually returning to normal, proof of his strong will. He’d survived the white shadow’s attack without losing his mind.

Duke asked for a piece of chocolate, took a bite, and while still clearly frightened, began to recall, “At first, it was the six of us in the restroom, turning off the lights to play a ghost-face game.”

“Yes, I saw that on the surveillance feed. Then what happened?”

“When the lights went out, I immediately felt something was wrong. I couldn’t see anyone else in the mirror—I could only see myself.”

“At that moment, you couldn’t see the others?” Shang Yi immediately picked up on the oddity.

“That’s right. Not only couldn’t I see the others, but the person I saw in the mirror didn’t even feel like myself—it was someone else.”

“I felt like that person in the mirror was calling out to me, and it scared me stiff.”

“Did he call your name?”

“No. But I just felt he was calling to me. And not with actual sound, but through my mind.”