“I’m telling you, the moment I open this door, a ghost is definitely going to jump out at me. Based on my extensive research of Director Shang’s horror game patterns, this is a given…”

Lu Zibing muttered to himself and his viewers, mentally bracing himself before finally pushing open the door.

A swarm of moths burst out in a chaotic flutter.

“Ahhh—!” He flung his arms up to shield his face. “Is there a ghost?! Is there—? Huh?”

The moths had eerie eye-like patterns on their wings, but aside from that, there was nothing particularly scary.

Lu Zibing frowned in confusion. Just as he stepped inside and was about to breathe a sigh of relief, a voice suddenly rang out behind him.

“Is it you?”

The voice was soft, ethereal, as if whispered directly into his ear.

“WAAAHHHH!!” Lu Zibing shrieked, nearly slamming himself into the doorframe.

Whipping around, he saw a girl in a school uniform standing at the far end of the hallway by the staircase. It was as if she’d followed him up.

Her long black hair hung past her chest, the unkempt ends looking as though they hadn’t been trimmed in years. Under the flickering hallway lights, her face appeared ghostly pale, almost paper-white. From a distance, the only thing distinctly visible were her pitch-black eyes—calm and lifeless, like a bottomless well.

It was the end of the school break, so in theory, students should still be at home scrambling to finish their assignments. Yet, here she was, wearing a blue-and-white uniform, a grimy red backpack slung over her chest.

“It’s just a girl, nothing to be scared of!” Lu Zibing huffed, glaring at the chat before forcing a friendly smile.

“Hey, uh… classmate? What did you mean by that question just now? Why are you at school so early?”

Trying to act unfazed, he took the initiative to strike up a conversation. “Did you get the start date mixed up?”

[Streamer, are you out of your mind?! Even if she got the date wrong, why would she be coming to school this late in the evening? And why was she tailing you up the stairs?!]

[I can’t see her face clearly… The hallway’s too dark… But something about her feels off.]

[She’s standing so far away, yet her voice sounded so close. That’s creepy as hell!]

[Streamer, go closer and check! Sacrifice yourself for the greater good!]

Lu Zibing had zero intention of going anywhere near her. In fact, he was gripping the doorframe for dear life just to keep his legs from giving out.

The girl, however, seemed entirely uninterested in conversation. She simply watched him, tilting her head slightly as if trying to recognize him. After a moment, she slowly took a few steps backward, retreating into the shadows of the stairwell and vanishing from sight.

“Hey! Wait!” Lu Zibing called after her. “Why are you ignoring me? Do I look that scary or something?”

He scowled. “Man, this kid is way too shy.”

[Pretty sure this isn’t a ‘shy’ issue…]

[Streamer, you are either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid.]

[That girl was eerie as hell! Is she even human?]

[You spoke to a ghost. What happens now? Will she come find you tonight? (evil grin)]

“HEY! Stop trying to freak me out!” Lu Zibing snapped.

After nervously waiting a few more minutes to make sure nothing else was about to jump out at him, he finally stepped into the office.

As soon as he switched on the light, his eyes squinted against the brightness. From this vantage point, the most striking feature was the towering silhouette of Building 18, looming in the dusk outside the window.

Given that the game was named after it, every player knew Building 18 had to be a central location.

The principal’s office seemed to have the best view of it.

But for now, Lu Zibing couldn’t see anything particularly unusual about the building. Compared to the rest of the campus, it actually looked newer and taller, standing at a full 18 stories high.

The only odd thing was the entrance. The first-floor doors were sealed shut with heavy locks and caution tape, reinforced further by an iron fence. Countless “NO ENTRY” signs were posted all around.

Shrugging off the unsettling sight, Lu Zibing turned his attention back to the mess of the office.

[The room is filthy, crawling with bugs. You decide to clean up. (Hint: Insect repellent required.)]

“Insect repellent… where’s the insect repellent…” Lu Zibing muttered, rummaging through the cabinets.

Just as he grabbed a bottle and lifted his head, a pale figure flickered in the shadowy depths of the cabinet.

[HOLY CRAP, did anyone else just see that?!]

[I swear I saw a face!]

[It was a long-haired girl… She was staring. Expressionless. Right at us.]

The shadow was gone in an instant, so fast it could’ve been a trick of the light. But now, Lu Zibing felt a chill creeping up his spine. “Wow. Okay. That’s… that’s a new one.”

He realized that, at this early stage in the game, there likely wouldn’t be any full-on horror sequences yet. This was just the warm-up—a way to get players used to the atmosphere. Still, the constant little jump scares kept him on edge.

After thoroughly bug-spraying and tidying up the desk, he checked the books stacked on top.

[You obtained: Principal’s Handbook, Common Psychological Issues in Adolescents, Youth Safety Education…]

Flipping through a few pages, he groaned. “This is just boring old educational material. I came to play a horror game, not study for a teaching license.”

With no major discoveries in the office, he moved on to the adjacent classroom—where he was immediately assigned another cleaning task.

“Is this a horror game or a janitor simulator?!” he grumbled, sore from all the scrubbing. But amidst the cleaning, he found something useful.

[You obtained two class rosters: one new, one old.]

The new one was clearly for the upcoming school year, but what about the old one?

Curious, Lu Zibing flipped through it. The date marked it as being from ten years ago—belonging to Class 3-4.

Some of the names were smudged and faded, but one had been aggressively scratched out with red ink.

From the annotations, he could tell it belonged to a female student. Her name had three characters.

[This has got to be an important clue.]

[It’s categorized under ‘Key Items.’ Definitely linked to the mystery.]

Time ticked on, and a notification popped up.

[It’s getting dark. Walking home at night isn’t safe. You decide to call it a day. Remaining areas can be explored later.]

Lu Zibing carefully made his way out of Building 3, keeping an eye out for the janitor or the long-haired girl, but neither appeared.

Before leaving, he stopped by the security guard’s booth.

“Excuse me, sir, can I ask about Building 18? Why is it sealed off?”

“Huh? No one told you before you took this job?” The old security guard scratched his head. “I heard that ten years ago, a student died in there. Then, during renovations, workers kept having nightmares, and one almost got seriously hurt while using a machine.”

“Rumors started flying, so the school just locked it up and left it alone. Every principal since then has tried to fix it, but every time they breakthrough, weird stuff happens.”

“Ah, but who knows? Best to trust science, eh?”

Lu Zibing latched onto a key detail: ten years ago, a student died.

Again with the ten-year timeline.

“Do you know exactly what happened? Was the student a long-haired girl?”

But the guard clammed up. “You’ll find out soon enough, Principal.”

Lu Zibing checked the time and was floored—it had been four hours!

The real world was already on the verge of sunrise.

The intro was way too calm and peaceful—so much so that Lu Zibing felt a little off. It was like Director Shang had brainwashed him. If he wasn’t scared, it felt like something had been left unfinished.

“One more hour of gameplay, then I’m logging off and going to bed…” Lu Zibing strolled out of the school gates, feeling relaxed. But the moment his eyes landed on the honor wall at the entrance, he suddenly froze.

The wall was covered with photos of students, all dressed in blue-and-white school uniforms.

A thought flashed through his mind, and a chill shot up his spine from his feet to the top of his head. Lu Zibing let out a loud yell: “Holy shit! I got it!!”

[?? Got what? Why’s the streamer suddenly screaming?]

[Something wrong with the honor wall? Looks fine to me?]

[…Ahhh shit, wait, I think I get it too!]

“No—it’s not the honor wall! It’s that girl from earlier!” Lu Zibing stammered. “Her uniform was inside out!!”

—He had thought he saw a girl holding her red backpack in front of her as she backed into the stairwell. But that wasn’t the case at all.

What was really backwards… was her head.

…

[Lu Zibing sure has great luck.]

At the GM console, Shang Jingyan sighed sincerely.

The “Intro” section was mostly a tutorial—there weren’t any mechanics-heavy sequences or monster battles. Even in [Nightmare Mode], it played out the same way.

The only difference was that in this segment, players could choose to explore one of five locations: Buildings 1 through 3, the playground, or the cafeteria.

Only those who chose Building 3 would encounter the student ghost with the reversed head. The other locations had, at most, some basic jumpscares—like opening a door and getting a face full of moths.

But, as the saying goes, no pain, no gain. Choosing Building 3 was also the only way to get an early copy of the old student roster.

X71 was struggling to hold it together: [……]

Are you sure you wanna call that luck?

After screaming at the school gate, Lu Zibing logged out immediately. Not another word about playing for an extra hour—he’d probably have to marathon ten romance games just to calm down. And he was definitely avoiding any long-haired female protagonists for a while.

Shang Jingyan flicked through the glowing interface. Lu Zibing actually had pretty strong nerves. Among the first batch of players, half of those who initially picked Building 3 chickened out before they even stepped into the hallway, opting for the open space of the playground instead.

Of the remaining players, a quarter either got scared off by the janitor or logged out on the spot when the student ghost appeared.

In the end, only two players managed to obtain the clue item.

One was Lu Zibing. The other was Ao Qingxue.

She had even stronger nerves—she immediately realized the girl’s head was reversed and didn’t try to interact with her at all.

That said, Ao Qingxue was playing in Follow-the-Protagonist mode instead of Roleplay mode, which made it easier to keep a cool head.

[First batch of testing done. Overtime finally over.] Shang Jingyan yawned as she climbed out of the full-dive chamber, stretching her sore back.

There were a few minor bugs and glitches, but nothing game-breaking. Overall, a total success!

–

Shang Jingyan’s game launched on the Evergreen platform, and by midnight, it was already trending.

By the next day, Building 18 had shot up to third place on the site’s gaming hotlist, bringing another tag into the spotlight: #Building18ShowsYouHowTerrifyingSchoolCanBe#.

The Evergreen forum exploded overnight, with the discussion thread stretching dozens of pages.

Title: [A dedicated discussion thread for our rookie Dreamweaver Director Shang—Is Building 18 any good?]

OP: [First off, congrats to Director Shang on her game release~ First step to making tons of money! Everyone’s probably still on “Act One: The Intro,” right? What areas have you all explored so far?]

1L:

[I chose to explore Building One. It’s the library. As I walked between the shelves, I kept feeling like someone was watching me through the gaps. Every time I moved, there was an extra set of footsteps, but when I stopped, everything went silent.]

[I opened a school history book, and a rat jumped out! Scared the hell out of me! Why did you have to make it so realistic, Director Shang?! I logged off immediately.]

Comment 1: [You bailed too soon and missed the good stuff (smirking emoji). I stayed until 4 AM, and the library’s record player suddenly turned on by itself and started blasting The Song of Puppy Love. I nearly pissed myself.]

2L:

[That rat is nothing. I went to the cafeteria. I SWEAR I smelled food when I walked in—my full-dive system even recorded it! But the place was completely empty. Damn it, the dev did this on purpose!]

[Then, as I was leaving, I accidentally kicked over a trash can… and out spilled a whole pile of skinned rat skeletons!!]

[Holy shit, the immersion is insane. If this wasn’t a game, I would’ve thrown up. When I become student council president, my first act will be to investigate this school’s food safety violations!]

…

10L:

[I explored Building Two, the dorms… Nothing too crazy, except I overheard the janitors talking. Apparently, one of the staircases on a certain floor has been making students trip. Three people ended up in the hospital last semester.]

[They said that every night between midnight and 2 AM, the number of steps in that staircase drops by one, down to 18. I got so freaked out that I counted them on my way down… and sure enough, there were only 18 steps. Somebody help me.]

Comment 1: [What if it’s always been 18? Don’t scare yourself for no reason.]

Thread owner reply: [I’ll go count again tomorrow QAQ]

Comment 2: [OH HELL NO—Don’t bother counting. I picked Building Two too. I didn’t hear that conversation, but I have this habit of counting stairs when I go down (so I don’t trip). I swear, every floor in that building has 19 steps! HELP.]

…

55L:

[Looks like most people went to the sports field. Us cowards only dared to pick the open areas. And yeah, after checking the threads, I’d say this is definitely the least haunted location… The only weird thing everyone mentioned is the insane number of moths in the small grove next to the field. The game won’t even let players get close.]

…

Long story short: If not for Building 18, none of us would’ve realized just how terrifying a school campus can be!

Baishui County No. 2 High School is full of creepy secrets, and as players swapped stories, it became clear just how disturbingly detailed Shang Jingyan had made this game.

Everyone’s been to school before, no matter where or when, so the immersion hit way too hard.

On the very first day of his promotion from “Director Shang” to “Designer Shang,” he was promptly awarded the honorary title of “Damn Dev.”

[Why does this game get scarier the more we talk about it? Shang, have some humanity!]

[After reading all this, I gotta say—@Lu Zibing is hands down the unluckiest player. XD But hey, both he and @Azure Snow ran into ghosts. One freaked out, and the other stayed cool as ice.]

[Here’s a video link comparing their reactions—this is what we call the difference between a scaredy-cat and a badass. (smirking emoji)]

[Went to sleep and woke up to find I can’t choose anymore. The game skipped straight to the first day of school. What happens to the players who didn’t get clue items?]

[Doesn’t seem to affect the main storyline. I’m definitely replaying this and exploring every option.]

[This was just the prologue and it was already this scary—what’s coming next? I can’t wait to see who’s brave enough to clear the whole game first!]

The discussions quickly spread beyond Chang Qingqing’s platform, catching the attention of players from the central star system. Some were even offering to buy accounts just to get in on the experience.

—The Exile System’s star network operates independently and isn’t linked to the main universe’s internet. Games, in particular, usually require proxy accounts to access, which is a huge hassle.

Lu Zibing had used a proxy account yesterday.

Normally, it’s the Exile System’s players who go looking to buy main-system accounts. If it happens the other way around, it’s a rare bragging right for any Exile System Dreamweaver.

For a newcomer like Shang Jingyan to pull this off? Unheard of.

…

V061.

“Professor, didn’t sleep well last night?”

The moment Xiao Zhang walked into the study hall that morning, she saw Chai Yuanlin sitting there with dark circles under his eyes, resting with her eyes closed. Concerned, she quickly asked,

“…Ahem.” Chai Yuanlin cleared her throat, looking a little guilty. “Got caught up reading research papers. Lost track of time. I’m fine. My mental energy’s still in good shape today.”

Xiao Zhang carefully probed her energy fluctuations. They seemed stable. Relieved, she let it go.

Last night, Chai Yuanlin wasn’t reading papers—she was up all night playing Building 18.

She had chosen the cafeteria route, but unlike other players, she moved faster and managed to explore the sports field as well.

She was past fifty and still had zero self-discipline, so there was no way she’d admit this to her students.

Back in the day, Chai Yuanlin got her start as a Dreamweaver specializing in games. Gaming had always been her favorite. Previous titles like Eldritch God and Rouge Comb had been impressive, even terrifying, but Building 18? This was the first game that had her completely hooked.

She had to admit—at eighteen, she wouldn’t have been able to reach Shang Jingyan’s level. Let alone create something that could heal people.

That “I’m fine” she told Xiao Zhang earlier wasn’t a lie. After a full night in the game, even her Void Syndrome symptoms seemed to be improving.

A Dreamweaver Association president suffering from severe Void Syndrome—wasn’t that ironic?

Ridiculously ironic.

But that was life in the Exile Star System, a place the universe had thrown away.

“By the way, Professor,” Xiao Zhang suddenly said, “you told me before that you wouldn’t be able to take Shang on as a student, but that I could give it a shot. Well, I just asked her.”

Chai Yuanlin raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“I refuse to believe anyone wouldn’t be tempted! …Oh, wait, she replied.”

Xiao Zhang awkwardly turned the screen toward Chai Yuanlin.

Shang Jingyan, their hopeful future junior apprentice:

[Thank you for the kind offer, but I prefer learning on my own.]

Chai Yuanlin chuckled. “Knew it.”

Xiao Zhang let out a long sigh. No chance of being fellow disciples, then.

–

V059

“Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, hundred thousand…”

Wearing a green dinosaur onesie, Shang Jingyan sprawled across her couch, holding up her quantum tablet as she counted her savings.

In that moment, all the exhaustion from pulling an all-nighter as a GM disappeared. Life was good. Overtime? Totally worth it.

Ever since she transmigrated, she had been running nonstop. But now that both the short drama and the game were finally on track, it felt like she could breathe again.

X71, floating beside her, shot out a tiny firework. [Congrats, Yan Yan!]

This was all money left over after project expenses—her own little treasure trove. She could spend it however she wanted.

Shang Jingyan rolled over, propping her chin on her hand. The hood of her dinosaur onesie flopped over her head.

What should she buy?

A house? A car? Nah. Her ultimate goal was an entire planet—why waste money on anything smaller?

Luxury brands? Never cared for them in her past life, still don’t in this one.

Home decor? Her rental was already looking cozy, didn’t need anything major.

[What about a trip? How about taking a vacation?] X71 suggested eagerly. [Even the Exile System has some great destinations! I can plan a route for you.]

It rarely saw its host this happy—of course, it wanted to make her even happier.

Shang Jingyan hummed thoughtfully. [Not a bad idea. I haven’t left this planet since I got here.]

X71 immediately generated several travel itineraries. She’d check them out later tonight.

Right now, she had somewhere to be.

She was going to visit Sister Cui.

–

“What? You’re cooking for me? You? You’ve been living there for so long, and I’ve never seen you so much as turn on a stove.”

On the other end of the call, Sister Cui sounded downright horrified. “If you poison me, you’ll lose your investor. I’m warning you, Xiao Yan.”

Shang Jingyan’s tone was steady. “Sister Cui, you have to trust me. I’m not the same person I used to be. My cooking skills have leveled up.”

Sister Cui snorted. “Yeah, right. You’re the first Dreamweaver I ever invested in—if you do poison me, I’ll eat it anyway.”

Shang Jingyan: “…”

After a beat, Sister Cui suddenly grew suspicious. “Wait a minute. You’re not trying to squeeze more money out of me again, are you?”

Shang Jingyan cleared her throat, her voice ringing with sincerity. “Of course not. Rouge Comb just premiered, and the response has been great. I just wanted to say thank you.”

That was 100% true. As for the fact that in her past life, she had also used this excuse to maintain good relations with investors… Well. No need to bring that up.

Given Shang Jingyan’s mental age, she and forty-year-old Sister Cui were practically peers. The two of them chatted freely the entire ride, until she arrived at the seafood market.

–

Shang Jingyan had always been a person of extremes. She loved horror, loved pushing boundaries. But in her downtime? She liked the simple things—cooking, baking, the kind of warmth that came with a well-lived life.

Of all the dishes she knew how to make, fish was her favorite.

It came from an orphanage memory in her past life.

After she became a famous director, she had traveled all over the world searching for the best fish dishes. Even some actors’ managers had tried currying favor with her through fish.

V059 was famous for its seafood, and the moment she stepped into the market, she thought: Wow. I am such a country bumpkin.

On either side of her, massive water tanks stretched out endlessly, packed with strange interstellar marine creatures she couldn’t even name. The entire place shimmered with color, like an open-air aquarium.

X71 noticed the shift in her thoughts. […Wait. Yan Yan. What are you thinking?]

Shang Jingyan: [Something not meant for outsiders to know.]

X71: […]

Oh no. She was 100% thinking up a horror story about fish.

Shang Jingyan walked up to a stall. “What’s this? How much?”

Shang Jingyan’s gaze was drawn to a particular fish—sleek and silver, its body dotted with glowing spots.

It looked just like the star-eyed fish she’d seen at that barbecue place before. She still remembered how good it tasted.

“Oh, that one?”

The shop owner glanced up and took in her all-black outfit. This young woman looked like she was about to hop on a hover bike and vanish into the night—not someone out shopping for groceries.

A little scheme formed in his mind. “That’s star-eyed fish, fifty star coins per jin…”

“That’s not right.”

A calm male voice interrupted from the side.

Shang Jingyan turned to look. The speaker was someone she actually recognized—the teahouse owner she’d met before, the one she’d even taken a picture with.

This time, he wasn’t wearing an apron. His wavy brown hair hung loose, and he was dressed in a long coat with a milk-tea-colored scarf wrapped around his neck. In one hand, he carried several shopping bags, looking very much like a man running errands for the day.

The shop owner’s face stiffened. “I just misspoke! So what if it’s star-banded fish? It tastes even better anyway—”

“But star-banded fish has a problem.” The young man cut him off again. “Look—”

Shang Jingyan straightened up, watching with interest as he set his groceries aside, picked up a fish in one hand, and gently pressed along its dorsal fin with the other.

Splash! The fish, startled by the touch, instantly began releasing water from its skin. Within seconds, it had shrunk to nearly half its original size.

Shang Jingyan raised her brows. “Wow, impressive. So that fifty star coins per jin price… that includes all the extra water too, huh?”

The shop owner: “……”