The System Teaches You How to Be Human

“Huh…?”

The players, including Chen Mengxi, exchanged glances, all wearing peculiar expressions.

Naturally, unlike Si Yisi, who had the audacity to sleep soundly until he woke up naturally, they had all left their rooms early and gathered in the living room to discuss the events of the previous night.

What the players heard last night was more or less the same. A shrill, piercing scream that sounded like a woman’s voice.

Now, looking at Si Yisi with slightly swollen eyes…

That soprano-like scream came from a frail young boy?

He actually managed to escape the ghost’s “gift”? How?

Given the familial relationship between Si Yisi and Chen Mengxi, the burden of questioning naturally fell on Chen Mengxi once again.

Si Yisi noticed how annoyed Chen Mengxi was, but since he was weak and pitiable, he, of course, pretended not to notice anything.

“Chen Chen, what… what did you see?”

As soon as Chen Mengxi asked, Si Yisi’s eyes reddened, and he started crying.

When he cried, his speech became even more stammering than Chen Mengxi’s, barely forming complete sentences. “It… it was a ghost with long hair, and its face… its face was full of hair! She… she was lying on top of me, glaring at me with eyes dripping blood! Hic!”

As he spoke, he even let out a hiccup, making him all the more irritating.

Hair? A face full of hair?

Si Yisi’s utterly terrified and collapsed demeanor, combined with his description, struck a chord with the players.

They could already imagine what this boy named Shen Chen had gone through.

Opening his eyes only to be met with a pair of blood-dripping eyes glaring at him, and a face entirely covered in hair. It was enough to scare anyone out of their wits!

“What was the gift the ghost wanted to give you? How did you manage to escape?” Qi Muyang interjected. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table, producing a dull sound that added an invisible pressure to the room; his way of exerting dominance.

Si Yisi glanced at Qi Muyang “timidly,” his tears flowing even harder.

He teetered on the verge of Qi Muyang’s patience, trembling and stammering as he replied, “She… she said she wanted to give me hair. I… I don’t know anything else!”

“I-I-I was so scared that I just grabbed something and threw it at her, and then she backed off.”

“What did you throw?”

“A-a-a-a razor, I think,” Si Yisi stammered weakly, his crying never ceasing and even growing more intense.

He tremblingly reached into his pocket and pulled out a razor.

Qi Muyang seized the razor immediately. His domineering move earned the other players’ hostile glares, but he dismissed them with a sneer.

“Tsk. Do you think you’d know how to use this? These things should be in the hands of someone who knows their value.”

As Qi Muyang spoke, he slammed a heavy object onto the table beside him. The sound reverberated, and the area around the table fell completely silent.

“You,” Qi Muyang said arrogantly, pointing at someone. “Yes, you. Summarize the clues we’ve gathered so far.”

Jia Yingrong, the bespectacled player, remained silent for a moment before speaking in response to Qi Muyang’s demand. “Based on the clues we’ve uncovered so far, we can determine that there’s something unusual happening in the bathroom of the new tenant’s room on the third floor, which requires our attention. On the second floor, hair was discovered in one of the rooms, and it’s initially suspected to belong to… the female ghost with a face full of hair who tried to deliver a gift to Shen Chen. Her weakness appears to be a razor.”

“There’s no trace of any tenant living in another room on the second floor, which raises suspicions that the ghost may have infiltrated that room… On the first floor, we found many pieces of shredded paper, so we might need to focus on things like paper dolls.”

“Hmm… Shen Chen, think carefully. What time did you encounter the ghost?” Jia Yingrong asked Si Yisi.

“One… 1 or 2 o’clock,” Si Yisi replied cooperatively, studying Jia Yingrong as he answered.

For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Jia Yingrong wasn’t as harmless as he seemed.

Was he a ghost? Or perhaps an even stronger player?

A faint glimmer of light sparked in Si Yisi’s tear-filled eyes.

“Good. So, we now know that the timeframe for ghost visits is between 1 and 2 o’clock. But this raises another question. Shen Chen lives on the third floor, and we suspect the female ghost resides in one of the second-floor rooms. Do you all remember what that voice said? It encouraged ‘visiting others’ rooms.’”

“What do you mean?” Huang Mao glared at Jia Yingrong warily. “Are you saying that it’s possible for four ghosts to visit a player’s room all at once in a single night? What kind of nonsense is that?!”

(T/N: Huang Mao = Yellow hair; I guess the author just named him literally yellow hair ¯_(ツ)_/¯)

“We can’t rule out that possibility,” Jia Yingrong replied calmly, adjusting his glasses. “However, the game likely wouldn’t leave players with no way to survive in such a low-level world.”

Low-level world?

Si Yisi recalled how, in Shen Chen’s memories, most players referred to such worlds as ‘beginner worlds.’

Though there was only a slight difference in wording, it still felt odd.

***

Jia Yingrong appeared to have finished speaking, and the players seated around the table fell into silence once again. A gloomy and oppressive atmosphere settled over them, casting a shadow even over the safety of daylight.

Suddenly, Mo Wuchang raised his hand. The eager glint in his eyes made Si Yisi instinctively feel uneasy.

“I have a question; can we switch rooms?” Mo Wuchang asked.

“Huh?” Qi Muyang crossed his arms. “What are you trying to do?”

“I… I just think that little brother over there is crying so pitifully. I want to move in and keep him company so he won’t be so scared,” Mo Wuchang said, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, as if he truly meant it.

“What?”

Little brother… who?

Si Yisi wiped his tears with a napkin and peeked at Mo Wuchang through the paper’s cover. He saw Mo Wuchang wink at him.

Who are you calling little brother?

Who wants to live with you?

“Newbies are always so troublesome,” Qi Muyang muttered under his breath. “Fine, do whatever you want, as long as the person you’re living with agrees.”

Mo Wuchang looked at Jia Yingrong.

“…Alright.” Jia Yingrong, who shared a room with Mo Wuchang, agreed without much fuss.

“Thank you so much, little brother!” Mo Wuchang leaned over excitedly, grabbing Jia Yingrong’s hand and shaking it vigorously.

“No… thanks.”

Without another word, the thick-skinned Mo Wuchang dragged a chair over and sat down next to Si Yisi. Boldly, he even threw an arm around Si Yisi’s neck.

“Little brother… uh, no, boss, I’m here now. Aren’t you happy?”

Si Yisi: “…”

Who are you calling little brother, huh? Si Yisi silently let out another quiet sob, then placed a hand on Mo Wuchang’s shoulder and pressed down “gently.”

Sweat beaded on Mo Wuchang’s forehead as he looked at Si Yisi in horror, feeling as though a giant mountain had suddenly crushed his shoulder.

Holy crap, I was wrong! Boss! I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you with my words!

Good to know. Si Yisi’s expression practically screamed ‘death glare.jpg.’

After a while, the players grew tired of sitting gloomily around the table and began dispersing in small groups.

Chen Mengxi put on a show of consoling Si Yisi before leaving as well. This left only Si Yisi and Mo Wuchang.

Si Yisi continued crying softly into a napkin, while Mo Wuchang, rubbing his sore shoulder, dutifully handed him tissues like a loyal lackey.

Once the hall was completely empty, Si Yisi stopped crying and walked toward the door.

“Uh… Boss, where are you going?” Mo Wuchang asked hesitantly.

“To wait for the rabbit to walk into the trap.” No… to rob someone. Si Yisi replied casually.

Mo Wuchang’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Are you going to use your tears to move the ghosts emotionally?”

Si Yisi could guess that Mo Wuchang must have witnessed how he dealt with the air-conditioner ghost on the bus.

He shot Mo Wuchang a sidelong glance.

What kind of nonsense is “using tears to move the ghosts emotionally”? Did Mo Wuchang think my tears are holy water?!

Not amused.