Chapter Nineteen: The Fear Deep Within

The duke tugged at his hair. “It was as if he was speaking of something so innately terrifying to me, it made me tremble all over, my body stiff, unable to move a muscle.” As he spoke, the fear in his eyes became even more pronounced. “It was like those tales of sleep paralysis—you know the ghost is there, but you simply can’t move, waiting to die, slowly and helplessly.”

Shang Yi was instantly reminded of the warden’s horrifying face he had seen during one of his missions. This white apparition seemed to have the power to unearth the deepest fears in a person’s heart and amplify them relentlessly, until your nerves finally shattered.

“What happened next?” With the duke’s description, Shang Yi’s understanding of the terrifying white apparition deepened further.

“After that, the figure in the mirror became clearer and clearer to me.”

“Even though my fear grew, I remembered what that person looked like. He was almost identical to you—almost like the shadow in that video you posted.”

He leaned closer to the duke. “Not a single difference? Look closely at my face, and try to remember.”

The duke stared intently at Shang Yi’s face for a while. “There are still some differences. That face looked even more sinister than yours—more like a truly irredeemable villain.”

“What if I put on a truly villainous expression? See if there’s still a difference.” In pursuit of the truth, Shang Yi was willing to try anything. He paused, then activated his “ghost face” skill, presenting the duke with the most sinister and malevolent expression he could muster.

The duke studied his expression for a moment longer. “It’s close, but not quite the same. How to put it… That other face, besides being terrifying and sinister, gave me another feeling that’s hard to describe. Let me think, hold on.”

He grasped his hair, struggling to recall.

“Don’t rush, take your time.” Shang Yi relaxed his expression, returning to the earnest, enthusiastic demeanor of a haunted house owner.

“Oh! I remember now. It’s not just the look—it’s a feeling from deep within, as if he wasn’t a person at all, but a dreadful monster.”

“A feeling from deep within?”

“Yes, exactly. Just like how he called out to me, not using physical sound, but reaching straight into my mind.”

“The sense that he was a monster didn’t come from what I saw, but from my soul. Even without looking at him, I knew he was a terrifying monster—that’s the feeling, and that’s why I was so, so afraid.”

The mention of a monster suddenly sparked a thought in Shang Yi. He quickly closed his right eye and looked at the duke’s face with his left pupil, verifying whether anything foul remained inside him.

Seeing nothing amiss, Shang Yi breathed a quiet sigh of relief. “And then what happened?”

“After that, things became almost impossible to describe. It felt like I was in a daydream—everything was blurry.”

“I think I saw things I’d never seen, heard sounds I’d never heard.”

“I was terrified of being killed, yet also wanted to kill myself. It was a terribly confusing, conflicted state.”

“In that chaos, I was afraid of being hurt, yet wanted to hurt others. Somehow, I ended up treating my reflection in the mirror as the enemy and gave him a savage kick. I didn’t even feel pain myself.”

Shang Yi meticulously noted every word the duke said. This was invaluable in understanding the white apparition’s powers.

“And after that?”

“After that, I remember nothing. When I woke up, I was already outside the haunted house.”

“I see. Thank you for telling me so much—I’m truly grateful.”

The duke, gazing at Shang Yi with a grateful expression, still looked bewildered. “Was all this something your haunted house was designed to create? Or did I have some mental issue? Or did your haunted house cause my mind to crack?”

Hearing these questions, Shang Yi sensed trouble brewing. The duke was clearly beginning to suspect that what he’d experienced was far from normal. If he couldn’t provide a reasonable explanation, it could jeopardize the future of the haunted house.

“Take a few days to think it over. If you’re still interested, come back to my haunted house and you’ll find the answer yourself.”

Shang Yi didn’t answer directly, instead suggesting the duke take some time. If, after a few days, the duke could reflect on this calmly and was still interested in returning, it would mean his mental state was fine, and the haunted house couldn’t be blamed for any psychological issues.

And if he came back for another run, as long as the experience was good—even if he fainted from fright, as long as it was a normal fright—the new impression would largely overwrite the old one. There’d be no need to dwell on whether the previous strange experience was intentional.

After all, if he came to appreciate the haunted house experience, not only would he not damage its reputation, he’d become a promoter of it.

The duke was clearly caught off guard by this answer.

He hadn’t expected this young haunted house owner to handle things so unconventionally.

He mulled over Shang Yi’s words, sensing there was a method to the madness—perhaps even some philosophy. It all felt so nebulous, as if he were being led in circles. He dared not underestimate the young owner before him.

“Is your foot still giving you trouble?”

“Thanks to your staff for treating it, I’m much better now. Injuries are routine at the police academy; this is nothing.”

Shang Yi accompanied the duke back to the group of five police academy students.

Yuan Rushuang, still a bit indignant at having lost face in front of her juniors, raised a sharp question.

“Boss, I admit your haunted house is impressive, but how did you make the duke—this guy here—run past us like he didn’t even know us?”

Of course, Shang Yi couldn’t say the duke had been possessed by a terrifying white apparition, which had taken over his body and made him ignore the others.

He just smiled at Yuan Rushuang. “You and the duke should go home and rest. If you’re still interested and come together next time, perhaps you’ll find the answer.”

Yuan Rushuang had expected a direct answer from this young owner, but instead ran into a polite brick wall—one she couldn’t really argue with. After all, the haunted house’s mechanics, set-up, and technology were all business secrets. If he told you, it was a favor; if not, it was his right. There was no reason to press further.

She rolled her eyes at Shang Yi and waved her hand. “Let’s go. We embarrassed the police academy today, but next time we’ll make up for it.”

Before leaving, Tian Yuan asked if he could add Shang Yi on “PalmChat.”

Shang Yi searched on his phone and found that “PalmChat” was indeed a real-name-verified social app. He handed over his phone, letting Tian Yuan scan the code.

Soon, Tian Yuan’s name appeared on his contact list.

As the six dejected police academy students walked off, Shang Yi turned to the surrounding crowd with a bright smile. “Today is the grand opening of our prison scenario—30% off for everyone!”

“Six police academy students have carefully tested it and proven that our new scenario is not only safe and reliable but also incredibly thrilling. Come and experience it for yourself!”

The onlookers, seeing Shang Yi’s enthusiastic hawking, immediately began to joke and tease.

“That kind of thrill? No, thanks. People went in walking and came out lying down. It’s just a haunted house—no need to risk your life.”

“That six-thousand-yuan prize you mentioned? I doubt you’ll live to spend it.”

“Please, stop posting promotional videos late at night. If those police academy students can’t handle it, how are us regular folks supposed to survive?”

“Your haunted house is too high-level for me! I can’t handle it—I’m out!”

Seeing the crowd unmoved, Shang Yi spread his hands and forced a wry smile. “It’s really not as scary as you all think. My haunted house isn’t that terrifying.”

“Boss, be honest! Those police academy students deal with criminals and corpses every day—six went in walking, six came out on stretchers. And you say your haunted house isn’t scary? Are you trying to fool ghosts? I don’t believe a word!”

The crowd all chimed in with sarcastic remarks, and not a single person seemed interested in buying tickets. Shang Yi felt awkward. When the haunted house wasn’t scary enough, no one visited, calling it boring; now that it was too frightening, no one dared enter.

Left with no choice, Shang Yi offered the best deal he could. “It’s our first day, and if the police academy students fainted, that’s our fault—the horror level was set too high.”

“But our haunted house’s scare factor can be adjusted at any time. We’ll make sure everyone’s comfort level is respected.”

“What’s the use of saying that? There’s no real benefit for us.”

“Exactly! Give us something real. Don’t you know what a grand opening special is?”

Sensing a chance, Shang Yi flashed his most sincere smile. “Of course, there are real benefits. In addition to the two-thousand-yuan bonus for those who collect all ten Prison Regulations, any visitors who buy tickets today will enjoy a 20% discount for the next month.”

“Furthermore, if anyone feels unwell after the experience—if you’re frightened to the point of vomiting or fainting—we’ll compensate five hundred yuan per person.”

With Shang Yi’s persistent persuasion and generous offers, many tourists began to waver. After all, coming all this way just to leave would be a waste—and it would make them look cowardly.

He instructed Su Xiaoxue to sell tickets and sign contracts at the entrance, preparing to receive the new guests.

He himself hurried back inside, using the walkie-talkie to remind all staff about the horror level.

Earlier, he’d wanted to give those overconfident police students a real scare, so he’d instructed his team to use every trick in the book, drawing on all the dirty tactics he’d seen in horror games like Resident Evil.

But things were different now. If anyone fainted again, he’d have to pay out of pocket—so he cautioned his staff to take it easy from here on out.