The sealed classroom in Mu Yang High School looked less like a horror set and more like a crime-scene photograph frozen in time. Twenty-four mannequins, each face hand-sculpted under the Dollmaker's Talent, stood or sat in perfect, unnatural stillness. Some leaned over desks with chins propped on palms, others stared straight ahead with glassy eyes reflecting the flickering tube lights, a few had heads tilted at angles no living neck would hold for long. Their uniforms were crisp, the creases sharp, yet every sleeve and collar carried faint, rust-coloured stains that had definitely not been there when Chen Ge dressed them. Even he, the person who had poured hours into moulding their expressions, felt the hairs on his arms rise. The air itself seemed thicker, as though the room had inhaled and forgotten to exhale.
He backed out slowly and pulled the sliding door shut with a soft click that sounded too much like a coffin lid. Releasing this scenario carelessly would be reckless. Twenty-four lingering spirits bound to these bodies, controllable for now, but the black phone's warning rang clear: the moment any one of them stepped beyond the scenario's boundary they would go berserk. A single malfunction, one visitor too curious, one spirit too resentful, and someone could literally die of fright. Chen Ge rubbed the back of his neck, pulse still racing from the weight of their collective gaze. Luxury-grade horror came with luxury-grade responsibility.
Yet the thought that followed was pure, greedy excitement. Normal haunted houses scrimped on actors; ten in a large scenario was already extravagant. Here he had twenty-four professional, tireless performers who never asked for a break, never flubbed a line, and looked more real than most living people. Budget problems? Solved. Staffing shortage? Obliterated. This single classroom alone elevated his attraction into a tier most theme parks could only dream of. A slow grin spread across his face. Mu Yang High School wasn't just another scenario, it was a weapon. Handled correctly, it could catapult the Haunted House from local curiosity to Jiujiang legend overnight.
First, though, he needed new rules. The original clear condition, finding the exit, was impossible; Mu Yang High School had been designed as a loop with only one true entrance. Chen Ge gathered the scattered student nametags from the lectern, each laminated card bearing a name and a faded photograph, and dropped them into an empty paper box. A treasure hunt. Hide all twenty-four nametags throughout the corridors and classrooms. Visitors would have twenty minutes to collect every one. Success earned a full ticket refund plus a cash prize; failure meant they left with nothing but trembling legs and lifetime bragging rights. Competition, reward, urgency, perfect incentives to drag friends inside and keep them coming back until they won.
He spent the next hour prowling the dim hallways on silent feet, slipping nametags into cracked lockers, under desks, inside the hollow leg of a chair, behind a loose ceiling tile, each hiding spot chosen to force visitors deeper into the scenario's embrace. The more he explored, the more he realised the underground corridors had grown. At the far end, where yesterday there had only been a blank concrete wall, a new junction now branched off. Three additional doors stood in a sombre row, their faded plaques reading 302, 303, 304. The one-star "A Room of Three" mission had silently fused with Mu Yang High School, expanding the playable area and narrowing the hallways until they felt oppressively tight, perfect for whispers and sudden reflections.
Chen Ge stood in the new corridor, flashlight beam sliding over peeling paint and old bloodstains that definitely hadn't been there before. A quiet laugh escaped him. Every completed mission was adding new wings, new nightmares, all radiating outward like mould beneath floorboards. At this rate the entire underground parking lot would eventually become one interconnected Maze of Terror, scenarios bleeding into each other until no visitor ever truly knew which horror they had stepped into. His parents' dream, twisted into something grander and darker than they had ever imagined, was taking shape under his hands.
Satisfied, he retraced his steps to the surface. Sunlight poured through the main gate, warm and golden, a stark contrast to the chill below. He brushed dust from his jacket, rolled his shoulders, and opened the Haunted House for business. Xu Wan arrived at nine sharp, greeting him with her usual quiet smile before disappearing into makeup. Visitors were already forming a line, the only attraction in New Century Park still worth queuing for. Chen Ge called Uncle Xu for extra help at the ticket counter; minutes later the man himself shuffled over, cap pulled low, looking slightly embarrassed to be caught volunteering.
"There's really no one else free," Uncle Xu muttered, scratching his stubble. "I'll manage the tickets however's easiest." Chen Ge waved him toward the booth with a grin and slipped back inside. In the breakroom he painted bold red letters across a wooden board with fake blood that still smelled faintly metallic:
MU YANG HIGH SCHOOL – GRAND OPENING TOMORROW
Find all 24 student nametags in 20 minutes and win your ticket money back + cash prize!
Fail… and join the class forever.
He carried the sign outside and propped it at the front of the queue. The crowd stirred instantly, phones rising to snap pictures, excited murmurs rippling outward like rings in water. "A new scenario!" "Full refund plus prize money?" "An actual school horror story, count me in!" The line grew longer by the minute, the morning sun glinting off eager faces. Chen Ge leaned against the gate, arms folded, watching his empire expand one terrified heartbeat at a time.
The moment Chen Ge propped the blood-red board upright, every phone in the queue rose like a swarm of black birds. Twenty yuan was already cheap; the promise of a new, supposedly lethal scenario turned curiosity into hunger. The first few visitors surged forward, wallets out. "We'll take Mu Yang High School!" "Open it now!"
Chen Ge raised both hands, voice calm but carrying easily over the excited chatter. "Everyone, listen first." He tapped the board with theatrical gravity. "This scenario is different. We spared no expense: professional actors, imported atmospheric equipment, custom props you won't find anywhere else in the country. Last week a rival horror studio sent people in to steal ideas. They sneaked cameras inside. Two of them are still hospitalised." He let the pause stretch just long enough for imaginations to fill the gap. "What they accidentally filmed… well, even the doctors won't watch the full clip."
Uncle Xu, standing beside the ticket booth with a stack of change, nearly dropped the coins. He stared at Chen Ge as though the boy had just boasted about a murder conviction.
The crowd exploded.
"What did they capture?!"
"You expect us to believe someone got hospitalised from a haunted house?"
"Boss, quit stalling, we're going in!"
"If I chicken out today I'm not a real man!"
Chen Ge waited for the noise to crest, then crash. When relative quiet returned, he continued smoothly. "I'm telling you this because Mu Yang High School is not open to everyone. Only visitors who have already cleared Minghun or Murder by Midnight may enter. We separate scenarios by scream level; safety first." Translation: pay for the earlier scenarios before you touch the new one.
The protests came instantly, loud and righteous.
"This is robbery!"
"Twenty yuan per scenario? You're bleeding us dry!"
"Success went to your head!"
"I came for the good reviews, but this is disgusting!"
One man even turned to leave in a dramatic huff. "Fine, I'm out!"
Chen Ge had expected exactly this reaction. He let them vent, then slammed his palm against the board with a crack that silenced the front row. "I'm not here to scam anyone. Twenty yuan is still the lowest price in Jiujiang. To prove it—" He reached into his bag and hauled out a thick stack of red hundred-yuan bills, slamming it atop the ticket booth. "Twenty thousand in cash. Find all twenty-four nametags in twenty minutes and it's yours. One thousand times your ticket price."
The crowd went from angry to stunned.
"Twenty yuan in, twenty thousand out?"
"That's almost one hundred thousand percent profit!"
"What if you only hid twenty-three tags? We'll never win!"
A sensible voice rose from the middle. Chen Ge didn't even bother arguing. He simply smiled and said, "If anyone can walk through the scenario and come out looking normal, I'll personally answer every question."
The nametags were hidden in places no sane person would reach without triggering every spirit in the room.
The temperature of the crowd shot from zero to boiling. Phones flashed, friends shoved each other forward, bets were made on the spot. Chen Ge handed the cash stack to a wide-eyed Uncle Xu. "Guard this with your life."
"Today is the grand-opening exception!" he announced. "No prerequisites, anyone can try! One visitor at a time, one chance per person, nametag locations change daily. Who wants the twenty thousand first?"
Dead silence. Dozens of eager faces suddenly found their shoes fascinating.
Chen Ge's gaze swept the line and landed on a cluster of six young men at the very back, heads together, whispering furiously. After thirty seconds, five of them marched forward as a unit.
"Boss," their leader said with an easy grin, "we're not here for the prize. We just want to experience the new scenario. Can five of us go in together?"
Classic reconnaissance team. Five sacrifice themselves to map the layout and tag locations; the sixth swoops in for the jackpot. Chen Ge's smile widened, warm and professional. "Of course! Five tickets, one hundred yuan. But remember, no photos or videos inside. You might accidentally capture our… shyer residents."
The leader paid without blinking, already turning to wink at his friends. Uncle Xu, however, had gone pale. He sidled up to Chen Ge and hissed, "Those are ordinary college kids! No grudges, no history, don't go too far!"
Chen Ge patted the older man's shoulder. "Uncle, relax. I know exactly what I'm doing."
Uncle Xu's whisper turned frantic. "That's what you said last time! Fei Youliang is still in the psych ward! Every midnight he screams about finding a wife, the nurses have to sedate him! His friend won't even look at mirrors anymore!"
Chen Ge's smile never wavered. He gently steered Uncle Xu aside, voice soft. "Different guests, different treatment. Trust me."
Then he turned back to the five eager young men, bowed slightly, and swept an arm toward the dark entrance.
"Right this way, gentlemen. School's in session."