Every time he exited the game, Han Fei would feel a deep sense of gratitude for being alive.
He didn't rest for long, turned on the bedside lamp, and twisted his head to look at the wall plastered with photos of murder cases.
"Why did the seven victims of the Human-body Puzzle appear in that manner? Were all seven of them trapped in that room?"
Generally speaking, any house where unnatural deaths have occurred can be called a Haunted House, and it seemed that the room Han Fei lived in housed seven victims, making it a Haunted House of Haunted Houses.
"Now that Wei Youfu and Amay have somewhat regained consciousness, my next step is to help the other victims regain their sanity."
Han Fei knew that the biggest wish of those deceased was to catch the Murderer, but the problem was, he was just a C-list comedy actor who, despite having the will, lacked the means. Even if he actually encountered the Murderer, it was uncertain who would capture whom.
"Take it slow, it's better to be safe since you only have one life." Han Fei took out his phone and began to record, "The old building I lived in during the game is extremely dangerous. The known information is that there are four rooms on each floor, and I live on the fourth floor. Judging by the reaction of the neighbor on the sixth floor, the residents of this building seem to know that I live in a Haunted House, and they don't dare to come in casually."
"From this perspective, the Monster in my room should be considered quite dangerous, at least many of the residents are afraid of it."
"On the flip side, the most dangerous place could be the safest. As long as I don't do anything foolish, the Haunted House might actually protect me from being killed by other neighbors."
"Another point to consider is the child on the third floor. Given how scary the Haunted House is, and there's no Talisman Paper on the door, that room on the third floor is definitely a big problem. The child sealed within that room might be as dangerous as the beast created by merging the seven victims."
Thinking of this gave Han Fei a headache, "Who tore off the Talisman Paper from the door on the third floor? I exited the game on the third floor this time and, based on previous Experience, I will appear on the third floor again the next time I log into the game. If that child is guarding the corpse, won't I be in trouble?"
The situation was too critical at that time, and Han Fei had reacted very quickly. Had he been slower, that child might have climbed right onto him.
"The key issue is that his movement speed is so fast, I can't even run away." Han Fei was now worried about being dragged by that child into the room on the third floor, "If I get the chance in the future, maybe I can lure him into the Haunted House on the fourth floor."
At four o'clock in the morning, Han Fei was at his computer, holding his phone, comparing the murder photos on the wall, carefully tracing the clues and relationships between characters.
...
The sunlight hit his face, and Han Fei did not know when he had fallen asleep. He groggily woke up, glanced at the clock on the wall, and immediately jumped out of bed.
"I slept straight through until nine o'clock, Director Jiang must be anxiously waiting."
After a quick wash, Han Fei hurriedly left home and rushed to North Street of Old City District.
He hurried along but was still a bit late, the film crew had already started working.
"I'm sorry, I'm late."
Han Fei quickly apologized; the crew members seemed indifferent, "The first scene is between the villain and the first victim, and the actor playing the villain hasn't arrived yet, so no rush."
The staff member who had been frightened by Han Fei's Acting skills before approached him in a friendly manner and passed him a cup of coffee, "Just wait, it's not the first or last time that the main villain is late."
"Excuse me, who is playing the villain in our drama?" asked Han Fei.
He played the second victim, and the other party was the Murderer, so understanding a bit about his counterpart would facilitate his own performance.
"You might have heard of him, his name is Zhan Lele. He has been on many variety shows before but hasn't really had any solid works. He could barely be considered a fifth-tier artist. This time, his company wants to prove Zhan Lele's Acting through our drama," the staff member chatted with Han Fei.
"Hasn't he acted before?" Han Fei put down his coffee, "The villain plays a crucial role in a drama."
"In my view, Zhan Lele inherently generates buzz. It's a good publicity point that this is his first time playing a villain role. Besides, he also graduated from a film academy, so he has some foundations," the staff member was saying when suddenly there was commotion outside the building, followed by footsteps.
"He rushed here overnight from shooting a variety show last night, his body is kind of exhausted." A young man in his early twenties entered the set, accompanied by his male agent, carrying a strong scent of perfume and an underlying alcohol odor.
"Go make up," Director Jiang said without looking up, seemingly too lazy to say more.
Once all the staff were in place, the made-up Zhan Lele arrived fashionably late.
"Your lines are few, and your first scene is in the corridor, where you play a murderer secretly fixating on Amay. Then you follow her into the corridor, and I need you to create the feeling of being like a shadow."
"Understood, I get it," Zhan Lele nodded confidently.
The actress playing Amay was young and inexperienced, and Zhan Lele's following didn't convey a sense of oppression. It seemed as if, instead of a perverted murderer following her, it was a drunken fool.
Even Han Fei could hardly watch this kind of acting, let alone the demanding Director Jiang.
Just the first corridor scene alone was shot repeatedly over a dozen times. Zhan Lele, moving up and down the stairs, was exhausted and eventually sat on the stairs, motionless.
"Director, I have my own style; I want to shape this character my way."
"The character you're shaping is just a small-time hoodlum?" Director Jiang was somewhat dissatisfied. "You do have some acting skills, but since you want to take on the role of a villain, then immerse yourself in your character. You are a murderer who killed seven people, with a piece of Hell hidden in your heart!"
"But this is just a scene going upstairs, and the Hell inside me has always been suppressed. I am waiting for the last moment to explode!" Zhan Lele was quite straightforward.
"Why don't you burst out right now and show me?"
After Director Jiang spoke, everyone looked at Zhan Lele. The young actor gathered his energy for a long time, then suddenly waved his prop knife wildly and started screaming hysterically.
"Stop! Stop! Stop!"
Director Jiang covered his face. "Ask anyone on set, did your portrayal of a psychotic murderer scare them? Did it give them a sense of oppression?"
As he spoke, Director Jiang grabbed a crew member and asked right in front of Zhan Lele, "Were you scared by his performance just now?"
"Not scared."
"And you?"
"I kind of wanted to laugh."
Asking a few people around, the first two were completely unmoved. The last one was amused.
"Every glance is acting. The actors who auditioned yesterday and played victims scared the crew members, yet you make a murderer look like a drunken hoodlum. Did you even read the script?"
Zhan Lele seemed indeed to have not read the script very thoroughly, but he still stubbornly retorted, "I really don't believe that someone playing a victim could scare the staff."
The two argued and somehow ended up involving Han Fei. Director Jiang directly asked Han Fei to come over. "Did you read our script?"
"I did."
"You play the murderer."
"Me?" Han Fei had also been contemplating the murderer's mindset, but he was not refining his acting. Instead, he truly wanted to solve the case, "It might not be suitable, I'm a comedian."
"Don't be modest now, come on, show him an example," Director Jiang seemed quite confident in Han Fei.
Han Fei wasn't eager to stand out, but now he had no choice.
Bowing his head, he envisioned the first face of his neighbor on the sixth floor in his mind. Holding a sharp knife, he peeked his head out of the stairwell, standing in the dark, watching living beings approaching him.
His face carried a craving for blood and flesh, harboring a hardly concealable desire for destruction. He was obviously struggling to suppress his inner urges; he was eager to plunge the sharp knife in his hand into the other person's body.
The suppressed breathing, the chilling gaze—the person he had been following finally entered the dark corridor. Now, no one was there to stop him.
Slowly lifting his head, Han Fei stared at Zhan Lele's neck, his dry lips gradually forming a smile.