Pokémon have arrived, and they're really not called magical beasts.

"These two idiots!"

Fear often turns to anger, and Brother Sun was no exception. He couldn't believe his crew had recklessly rushed into the villa and abandoned him. If they'd truly encountered Ghost-type Pokémon, they were as good as dead. Worse, both men were his relatives. If anything happened to them, he'd never hear the end of it from his family.

"F*cking hell!"

Brother Sun cursed under his breath, out of the camera's view. He stared at the eerie villa, hesitated, then gritted his teeth and decided to go in after them.

"Brothers, my two guys went ahead to scout. I'll cover their backs!"

Though terrified, Brother Sun put on a brave face for the stream.

[666, Brother Sun's the man!]

[No one does it like Brother Sun!]

[Who cares about that Su Feng? Brother Sun's the real king of content!]

The supportive comments boosted his courage. "Damn right! Who do you think I am?"

With the cameraman gone, Brother Sun now held the phone himself. Pushing open the creaking, half-rotten front door, he winced at the unsettling screech of rusted hinges.

He glanced at the chat—still active. A small relief.

Suddenly, something glinted on the floor ahead.

"What's that…?"

He picked it up: the cameraman's phone. Old Zhang's phone. It was always recording during streams. Why would he drop it here?

Dread coiled in Brother Sun's gut. The lobby looked unchanged, but something felt… off.

"Dammit! Told them to wait here!" he barked, masking fear with anger. "Don't worry, bros! When I find them, I'll give them a taste of their own medicine!"

[Brother Sun 666!]

[That's our Sun!]

[Legend!]

"Old Zhang! Skinny! Where the hell are you?!"

"Squeak—"

A door creaked open somewhere. The sound was unmistakably inhuman.

Swallowing hard, Brother Sun approached the source. "Stop messing around! Get out here now!"

He flung open the door to a charred room reeking of mold and burnt wood. A scorched rocking chair swayed emptily, its hinges groaning.

"AAAAHHH—!"

Brother Sun slammed the door shut and bolted back to the lobby, only to find the entrance sealed like iron. He kicked and punched—useless.

"Call the police! Someone, call the police!" he screamed into the phone.

[Brother Sun 666!]

[That's our Sun!]

[Legend!]

"STOP JOKING! HELP ME!"

Panic choked him. Shadows seemed to writhe closer.

"Brother Sun! Brother Sun!"

A familiar voice echoed. For a split second, hope flared—until he turned.

Down the pitch-black hallway staggered Skinny—headless, his twisted left arm flailing wildly.

The phone clattered to the floor. Brother Sun's eyes rolled back as he collapsed.

Good news: He wouldn't suffer anymore.

Bad news: Who knew what the ghosts would do next?

[Streamer, why isn't he reacting to our comments?]

[They look terrified, but we can't see anything!]

[Holy sh*t! Brother Sun fainted. The other two are gone too.]

Su Feng massaged his temples. "Call the police. Try to locate them."

He'd watched the entire stream. After sending his crew into the villa, Brother Sun entered alone, oblivious to the chat's warnings. A purple blur flashed across the screen before he dropped the phone in terror.

Though unconscious, the camera showed Brother Sun unharmed—for now.

[What happened? I don't get it!]

[No clue. Must've seen something horrifying.]

[Did anyone else see that purple thing at the end?]

[Was that a ghost?]

"No. Not a ghost," Su Feng said grimly. "They encountered a Ghost-type Pokémon—a Haunter."