(This chapter stays exactly the same as the original )
The app's icon—a gnarled, shadowy haunted house—could've passed for any trendy management game cluttering the app stores. But where others let you oversee a bustling hotel, a shimmering aquarium, or a cozy pet shop, this one thrust you into the grim task of running a haunted house.
Chen Ge stared at the screen, a single question gnawing at him: Why would my parents' abandoned phone contain this strange app?
Flicking through its interface, he felt a chill creep up his spine. Every detail mirrored his real-life haunted house—daily visitor counts, available scenarios, all eerily accurate. It was as if the digital domain and his crumbling reality were one and the same, two sides of a warped mirror reflecting identical misfortune. Both were teetering on the edge of ruin, plagued by too many uncanny parallels.
"Could this game be modeled after my haunted house?" he murmured. "And if it changes in here… does that mean it'll happen out there too?"
He scrolled further. The current scenario, Night of the Living Dead, bore scathing reviews—harsh words that stung like nettles. Even Minghun, a setup that had once snagged headlines, limped along with a pitiful half-star rating.
"If Minghun only scrapes by with half a star, I dread to think how terrifying those locked scenarios must be." He tapped the options, only for a pop-up to halt him: Complete daily missions to unlock new scenarios.
"Daily missions are the key, then," Chen Ge mused. A seasoned mobile gamer, he quickly pieced it together—completing these tasks would unlock new horrors, draw more visitors, and maybe, just maybe, resurrect his failing haunt. "It's all tied to the mission completion rate."
He clicked Daily Missions, and three choices unfurled:
Easy Mission: A great haunted house hinges on three pillars—Story, Scenario, and Mood. Without a story, it's a soulless shell. Craft background tales for Night of the Living Dead and Minghun. Normal Mission: Repair every mannequin in the haunted house before midnight strikes. Nightmare Mission: Still skeptical of ghosts, are you? Let's play a little game. Open your eyes, and the truth will unveil itself.
Daily missions refresh at midnight. Choose one per day. Rewards scale with difficulty.
(Beware! The harder the task, the greater the peril—choose wisely!)
Chen Ge's breath hitched. "These missions… they're meant to be done in the real world? That's proof this app can twist reality!"
To test his theory, he resolved to pick one. Rewards tied to difficulty, and only one shot per day—logic screamed for the biggest prize, but that ominous warning gave him pause.
"This is tricky. The Nightmare Mission's description is so vague—just a riddle hinting at danger. Maybe I'll start with the Normal Mission. Fixing props is tough, but doable."
Decision made, Chen Ge sprang into action. He snatched his toolbox and a dusty can of fake blood, then plunged into the haunted house's depths. Night had cloaked the place in shadow; to save power, he left the corridor lights off, a flashlight wedged under his arm as he wove through the sprawling maze, tending to each battered mannequin.
To any passerby, the sight would've been pure nightmare fuel—a lone figure tinkering with lifeless figures in the dark, enough to warrant a panicked call to the police.
"Didn't realize so many needed fixing," he grumbled. "Shouldn't have let it slide this long!"
At 11:45 p.m., his phone chimed: Normal Mission complete. Precision breeds terror. Reward: Background Music—Black Friday.
"Black Friday? That banned track from overseas?" Chen Ge's brow furrowed. "They say it drives listeners to despair—suicide, even—and the original score's long lost." A CD icon glinted in his inventory. "What kind of reward is this? Some sick joke?"
He tapped it. A haunting melody slithered into his ears—dark, mournful, a dirge of isolation. The world dissolved, dropping him into an endless corridor of shadow. When the song faded, he was soaked in cold sweat, grateful he hadn't looped it. Alone, he might've never clawed free of its grip.
"Holy— it's real! The original track!" Completing the mission had gifted him something tangible, a spark of hope amid the gloom. He stopped the music, stashing it carefully, then trudged to the break room to collapse.
Sprawled on the bed, exhaustion weighed him down, but sleep eluded him. The day's revelations churned in his mind, too wild to settle.
Time slipped past midnight. Still staring at the ceiling, Chen Ge groaned, "Can't sleep worth a damn!" Bored senseless, he grabbed the black phone. "Midnight's hit—new missions, right?"
The app flared to life, and sure enough, the Daily Missions screen had shifted:
Easy Mission: A scare too soon dulls the thrill. Master the rhythm of fear—install sound detectors or cameras to track visitors' progress. Normal Mission: One hand can't clap alone. A haunted house needs a crew. Recruit fresh talent to bolster your ranks. Nightmare Mission: Still doubting ghosts? Let's play a game. Open your eyes, and see the truth.
Daily missions refresh at midnight. Choose one per day. Rewards scale with difficulty.
(Beware! The harder the task, the greater the peril—choose wisely!)
Chen Ge frowned. His plans hit a snag.
The Easy Mission meant new gear—simple with cash, but his wallet was a barren wasteland. The Normal Mission? His veteran staff had just bailed; training replacements would take days, and the haunted house might shutter before then.
With the first two out of reach, his gaze settled on the last. "Harder missions, bigger rewards… Should I roll the dice on this Nightmare Mission?"