Allen's survival was, of course, not due to mere luck.
The Soul-Curse talisman was a one-time use artifact, its effects lasting only a mere few seconds. However, in its brevity lay both a flaw and an advantage—everything in existence seeks balance. While the talisman's incredibly short duration was a significant limitation, it did provide a power that surpassed most curses, achieving in an instant what others might take ten seconds to accomplish. Alas, this effect was fleeting, unable to endure for long.
But… that fleeting moment was enough for Allen to escape.
Yet, as for Cheryl…
The remaining three, upon reaching the entrance to the basement, were met with nothing but Cheryl's lifeless, cold body.
That brief instant, ultimately, could not restore her life.
At this very moment, Allen was once again able to wield his high heels. However, Cheryl was gone!
Half of his body had already crossed the threshold of the basement's door, while the other half remained inside. His hand still stretched forward, his eyes wide open, as if refusing to believe that this was where his life had come to an end.
Hank, witnessing this scene, felt his heart wrench painfully. In the end, filming a truly horrific movie was nothing short of cruel. A living person, just like that, was dead. Unless there was a reshoot, Cheryl would never live again. Although it was a horror film, one rarely saw characters die and then return as spirits—once they were gone, they were truly gone. As for Allen, having just endured life-or-death peril alongside Hank, they shared a bond of shared adversity. Seeing Allen in this state, Hank's heart sank with sorrow.
"How... how could this happen?" Hank nearly lost his footing, only managing to steady himself by gripping the wall.
At that moment, Zhao Xiaoya suddenly darted forward, crouched beside Cheryl, and murmured, "How could he die here? How could this happen?"
Cheryl's clothes were now partially opened, revealing the inner pocket of his jacket. Zhao Xiaoya, catching a glimpse of something inside, swiftly reached in and pulled it out.
It was... the painting!
Without hesitation, she tucked the painting into her own garments.
"Miss Zhao..." Hank stepped forward, but then he realized what had transpired. She had undoubtedly used fifty death-reversal tokens to claim ownership of the painting. There was no point in discussing it now. Cheryl was dead, and the cursed object naturally had to be reclaimed. For the sake of The Ghost Festival 3, no cursed object could be left behind.
Zhao Xiaoya stood, a strange calm overtaking her. "This is my painting. I don't know why it was on him... but never mind, that's not important."
Of course, it was yours. Hank thought to himself. After all, you'd used the death-reversal tokens to secure its ownership. It seemed, though, that this was for the best. At least the new actress, Zhao Xiaoya, had gotten lucky, obtaining a cursed object from a deceased person. With this, she now had a chance to earn more death-reversal tokens through her role in this horror film.
"I'm losing my mind..." Hank clasped his head in his hands, sinking into the couch as he looked at Allen and Zhao Xiaoya, who sat on opposite ends. Now, only the three of them remained.
How many more would die before the final scene?
Hank had, of course, considered that he might be among those who perished. But even if he were to die, he could not accept the thought of dying in such a low-stakes horror film. Even in death, he wanted it to mean something! And yet… he had indeed died once, and in such a miserable fashion.
"What... what are we supposed to do now?"
Yes... what now?
Compared to Hank, who had more experience, Allen, a mere rookie in his second horror film, was a bundle of nerves. He was an ordinary man, and it was impossible for him not to feel fear. Yet, fear did nothing to solve the problem. Now, he had to make the best use of the 365 death-reversal tokens in his possession. He needed to use them wisely...
However, the question remained: why, despite using both the painting and the high heels, did he and Cheryl still come so close to dying in the basement? The talismans' effects should not have weakened in such a manner. Something had definitely gone wrong.
Allen took a moment to gather his thoughts.
At that time... when Ivan died, the high heels were in his pocket. This suggested that, perhaps, when he died, he never even had the chance to draw out the heels. Then, after Hank removed the severed finger, the door that had been opened immediately slammed shut. The talismans were effective—up until that point.
But... even with the severed finger taken out, and even though Hank still had a trump card, the bell, which he failed to use, he still died. Cheryl had met the same fate, following Hank's footsteps to her demise.
And the common link between their deaths? It was the basement. Near...
That forbidden room!
Moreover, the entity within that room seemed on the verge of breaking free…
Gradually, Allen arrived at a chilling conclusion. If that door truly were breached, then all their cursed objects would become utterly useless.
They would be reduced to helpless mortals!
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, draining every ounce of strength from his body. The sheer terror of the conclusion was overwhelming.
For if that were the case, it meant that in the coming fourth act, they would face an inevitable death—unless they could somehow survive until the final moment of the movie.
A heavy silence fell over the living room.
"Let's rest for now," Hank said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "If we keep going like this, we won't last."
Who could sleep that night? The living room light remained on, but considering the ever-present possibility of a power outage, it hardly made a difference. They had to take turns standing watch. As the lead, Hank volunteered for the first watch.
But no one could sleep. Not even the slightest hint of drowsiness. How could anyone rest when their lives hung by a thread, like a flickering candle in the wind? Thoughts of Liu Ying, Wu Jun, and Cheryl's—Lu Zhenan's—deaths made sleep impossible.
At last, the moment arrived—the eve of the third act's conclusion.
The midnight bell was about to toll.
"Ah!" Zhao Xiaoya suddenly screamed, then uttered her line: "Th-there..."
"What is it?" Allen, barely conscious with his eyes closed, hadn't been able to sleep. At the sound of her voice, he snapped his eyes open and asked.
"There's someone..." She pointed towards a hallway in front of the living room. "I saw a shadow pass by just now!"
In that instant, the living room lights flickered and plunged into darkness! Even their phones went completely black, despite plugging them into chargers.
The villa... had lost power entirely!
And in that moment... the third act came to a close!
The script for the fourth act (the final act) surged into the actors' minds like an overwhelming tide!
To Allen's astonishment, the fourth act was incredibly brief! Only two hours.
In two hours, the film would conclude! Of course, this marked the moment when every character portrayed by the actors would meet their demise, as outlined in the script.
At first glance, this might seem like good news, for it meant only two more hours. However, Hank understood all too well that this was precisely the most perilous moment. For this meant that the next two hours would be fraught with danger at every turn.
The three of them could very well meet their end right here.
The script for the final act provided the lines in real time. There was no way to foresee what would transpire next, nor any certainty about the film's conclusion. Yet, one thing was beyond doubt: all the characters would certainly die. The ghost cinema's scripts had never, ever included a scenario where an actor's character survived the final act—never. If such a thing were possible, an actor could simply follow the script and survive without ever having to use a death-reversal token.
But Hank did not panic. Drawing upon the lines that had appeared in his mind, he spoke: "I remember there were candles in the kitchen. Go get them."
In the pitch-black darkness, although he couldn't see the other two, he knew they must have nodded in agreement.
The three of them groped along the wall, moving cautiously forward. Although Allen possessed the high heels, in this utter darkness, he had no way of determining whether a ghost had appeared before him. Therefore, getting the candles was a top priority. Yet, in such oppressive darkness, it was nearly impossible to approach the kitchen.
The final moments of the third act had never included a complete power outage! Had it been part of the script, Allen would have prepared candles in advance. This oversight gnawed at him—he chastised himself for not being thorough. He swore that, if there were a next time…
In the pitch-black villa, deep within the oppressive basement, the sealed room was slowly emanating an indescribable, bone-chilling terror…