"We're almost at the end — no wonder Boss Chen calls this place the Third Ward. Spending too much time here, even if you don't go crazy, you'd get sick just from the claustrophobia."
"I seriously wonder how the staff here hold up? Working every day in such a realistic, oppressive environment, staring at those hysterical blood-written words on the walls — wouldn't they develop psychological problems?"
"You mentioning that reminded me — we've been in here for about ten minutes and I haven't seen a single haunted house actor."
"Keep it down, we're almost at the corner. Watch out for something jumping out."
It took the group of visitors six or seven minutes to reach the end of the corridor. They pressed their bodies against the wall and peered around the corner, and every one of them froze.
"Why is it still a corridor?"
Nearly the same layout — mottled walls, cracked floors, blood-written words everywhere, and fake bodies wrapped in bedding scattered on the ground.
The only difference was that the wall color had deepened, and if you peered into the cracks, you could see something that looked like threads of blood.
"Scene looping?" Standing at the corner, Han Qiuming frowned and used a term that outsiders wouldn't quite understand.
"So it's just the same set?" Luo Luo and Little Du heard the term for the first time.
"It looks like the same scene, but something changes with every repetition. It's just that you haven't noticed. When you let your guard down the most, all the horror hits at once." Han Qiuming spoke with absolute certainty. "I once saw a haunted house abroad called Return of the Nightmare. The whole scene was made up of nine rooms, and the fear deepened layer by layer. The important thing was that those nine rooms could move freely — you'd never know what might appear in the next room after you opened the door."
"The one you're talking about was rooms — easy to manipulate. But this is an entire corridor set up to look nearly identical." Guo Miao ran his hand along the wall and said quietly, "Everything here is too real. It's like they transplanted an actual mental hospital into the haunted house. I don't know why I have this strange feeling."
"You're too sensitive, Old Guo." Han Qiuming chuckled. "Ever since you came back from that hospital where Xu Zhenzhen killed herself, you've become a completely different person — timid and cautious. As haunted house operators, fear and thrill are our selling points. If you're scared yourself, how are you supposed to harness that fear to scare others?"
"Qiuming, there are some things I didn't believe at first either, but the more I've come into contact with, the more I believe. It gives a person some peace of mind."
"I think you're regressing." Han Qiuming and Guo Miao stood face to face. "Really — on opening day, someone came and crashed the event, and you actually let that slide? You know how long we spent preparing for the opening. All of it ruined by that guy named Chen. And under those circumstances, you still think he's a decent person? You're still thinking about making peace with him? Aren't you afraid he'll eat you alive, bones and all?"
"Qiuming, that wasn't the boss's fault." Song An's voice was low and sullen. "If anything, it's on you. The haunted house ads were already designed, but you had to gild the lily and add 'the most terrifying haunted house in all of Jiujiang,' rubbing it in their faces…"
"So you're saying I was wrong?" Han Qiuming's face went cold. "The Tendo Hospital was a new type of escape-room haunted house I designed by combining years of experience — with both light and dark plot threads interwoven. I'll admit his haunted house has its merits, but compared to my design, it's far too crude."
"I'm not going to argue with you about this. You weren't there that day — you don't know what the situation was."
"If I had been there, that whole mess would never have happened. As haunted house actors, getting scared by visitors and chased out of your own haunted house — you're all on the verge of becoming laughingstocks in the industry." Han Qiuming's one sentence managed to offend every employee present, though he couldn't have cared less. "Looks like after we get back, I'll need to step up your training."
"Qiuming, we can talk about this when we get back. There are other visitors here." Guo Miao didn't pick a fight over Han Qiuming's sharp tongue.
"That's right. After we get back, I plan to have a word with the boss. I don't think you're suited to oversee the big picture anymore. You shouldn't be in charge."
"Han Qiuming! The boss has always treated you well. We put up with you on a daily basis — that's one thing, but don't push your luck!" Song An's temper flared, and he snapped at Han Qiuming.
"I'm pushing my luck? Every decision I've made was for the good of this haunted house. The Tendo Hospital was designed four times — three of which I led. You all know how the results turned out." Han Qiuming chuckled, his expression unchanged.
"You pulled real criminal cases into the haunted house and used a dead person's name as a gimmick. You nearly got us sued — and that's your design?"
"Sorry, I only look at results. By the numbers, after introducing Xu Zhenzhen — the dead girl — ticket sales multiplied fivefold." Han Qiuming held up five fingers; he had every right to be proud. "I'm the one who revived this place. And let me remind you of one thing: I was hired by your boss as the haunted house designer. You lot are just actors playing ghosts."
"You used real cases as source material and exploited a dead person's name for attention. When you were designing all this, did you even consider how the deceased's family might feel?"
"Now you're lecturing me? Why didn't any of you stop me back then?"
"Both of you, enough!" Guo Miao pulled Han Qiuming and Song An apart. "Save the grudges for after we leave. Boss Chen cleared our haunted house solo. If a whole group of us can't clear his, that's the real embarrassment."
Han Qiuming and Song An were both simmering with anger, which actually diluted the fear they'd been feeling.
"I can't be bothered getting angry over people like this." Song An wasn't scared anymore either. He strode forward alone.
"Old Song, don't walk off by yourself!" Guo Miao worried something might happen to Song An and hurried after him, putting some distance between themselves and the others behind.
"The world is full of all kinds of people." Han Qiuming strolled along at the back. When he'd first entered the Third Ward, the scenery inside had shocked him too, but he'd gradually grown accustomed to it.
He glanced behind him. "You three, stick close to me. Ten minutes left — I'll get us through. Honestly, this haunted house is passable by domestic standards, but compared to the unrestricted haunted houses abroad, it's not even in the same league."
"Mr. Han, I understand everything you're saying, but there's one thing I want to confirm with you again." Little Du brought up the rear, his face chalk-white. He hadn't even noticed the argument between Han Qiuming and Song An — he'd been focused on something else entirely.
"What is it?"
"Didn't you say those puppets wouldn't come within five meters of us?"
Little Du pointed behind them. The puppets — grotesque in shape and crafted with terrifying realism — had all entered the Third Ward!
The female puppet wearing a school badge led the pack, standing in the middle of the corridor with her head hanging low. She was now only three or four meters from Little Du.