Ruan Qing understood better than anyone just how afraid of ghosts he was. If there were another version of himself who could bear the burden for him, he would undoubtedly take full advantage of that other self without hesitation.
But… he wouldn’t actually say that out loud… would he?
Was it because he had lost his memory? Or because this time, he was the one being used?
He knew his own thought process best. Even if he didn’t say it outright, he figured the other version of himself would certainly guess it, so speaking so bluntly was… normal?
'Ruan Qing' seemed to notice Ruan Qing's shock. He blinked innocently and said, “You know, I’m really scared of ghosts.”
Before Ruan Qing could respond, 'Ruan Qing' continued on his own, his voice tinged with hesitation. “But you’re already a ghost now… You shouldn’t be afraid of ghosts anymore, right?”
Ruan Qing: “…”
Ruan Qing fell into a suspicious silence for a few seconds before finally letting out a quiet “Mm.”
***
Midnight felt especially long. Strange noises echoed from time to time—sometimes near, sometimes far—making it impossible to tell whether they were made by people or ghosts.
By the time Ruan Qing and 'Ruan Qing' had finished exchanging clues and intelligence, it was already past three in the morning.
Even though he had become a ghost, Ruan Qing still had the habit of resting at night. After all, being trapped in this basement, there wasn’t much else he could do besides sleep. So, after speaking, he turned toward his simple bed.
The moment Ruan Qing turned around, 'Ruan Qing'’s gaze deepened, carrying an inexplicable sense of aggression—like a venomous snake fixating on its prey, ready to strike at any moment and consume it whole.
Just looking at him sent an eerie chill down the spine, an almost hair-raising feeling.
But 'Ruan Qing'’s tone was entirely different from his gaze. His voice was tinged with hesitation and careful pleading. “Are you going to rest?”
Ruan Qing didn’t turn back. He simply responded with a faint “Mm.”
Hearing this, 'Ruan Qing' anxiously pressed his lips together, his eyes filled with a pleading look. “Can you stay with me? I’m really scared.”
“When I get scared, my mind goes blank, and I can’t stop myself from going weak all over.”
Ruan Qing’s steps instantly halted. He turned to glance at the pitiful-looking figure and, in the end, walked back to the mirror.
It wasn’t that he pitied 'Ruan Qing'—it was because 'Ruan Qing' was threatening him.
Ruan Qing knew 'Ruan Qing' wouldn’t actually risk his own life, but what he said was true. Whenever he encountered ghosts, his body would go weak. If something happened while he was asleep, he might end up dying permanently in this dungeon.
After all, he was the mastermind behind the explosion that killed those five people. If he ran into those ghosts, he would truly be done for.
‘Ruan Qing’ seemed a bit tired from standing. He leaned against the mirror and slowly sat down on the ground.
Seeing this, Ruan Qing also sat down beside the mirror. The two of them sat back to back, separated only by the mirror, neither speaking a word. For a moment, the atmosphere was unexpectedly harmonious.
Staying in the same room for too long was dangerous. Ghosts hunted based on the breath of the living, and the longer one stayed in a room, the denser that breath became, increasing the risk of attracting malicious spirits.
Moreover, most of the clues in this instance appeared at night. Under no circumstances could they remain idle in a room after dark.
But when Ruan Qing glanced at his other self, who was clearly uneasy, he chose not to say anything and simply kept him company in silence.
They sat there like that for nearly an hour. When Ruan Qing checked the time, he stood up and looked at ‘Ruan Qing.’
“Let’s leave this room.”
‘Ruan Qing’ lifted his head, looking at Ruan Qing with pitiful eyes. His beautiful pupils were filled with pleading.
“I’m a little scared to go out alone. Can you come with me?”
This was Ruan Qing’s usual tactic—pretending to be weak, lowering the other’s guard while achieving his own goals. But he had never expected that one day, he would experience it firsthand.
Ruan Qing felt no sympathy at all, yet he had no choice but to help.
Just as he had said before, this time, he could only willingly let himself be used.
Looking down at his other self from above, Ruan Qing finally sighed silently in his heart.
“Look for a small mirror in the room.”
‘Ruan Qing’ understood what he meant and immediately started searching.
Since the room had full-length mirrors, it was natural that there would be smaller cosmetic mirrors as well. Soon enough, ‘Ruan Qing’ found one in a drawer.
He picked it up and looked into it. The reflection of the young man was visible inside.
The moment ‘Ruan Qing’ saw the familiar figure in the mirror, his heart skipped a beat, and for a brief moment, he even forgot to breathe.
Because the boy’s reflection in the small mirror looked as if it were cradled in his palm, unable to escape, unable to leave—able only to look at him, as if he belonged entirely to him.
At least at this moment, this person was his.
And in the future, he would only belong to him.
This realization sent an uncontrollable wave of joy and excitement surging in ‘Ruan Qing’s’ eyes.
Discovering that even a small mirror could reflect another version of himself was already reason enough to be happy. So ‘Ruan Qing’s’ reaction didn’t seem out of place. No one could tell exactly why he was so delighted.
‘Ruan Qing’ carefully cradled the small mirror in his hands before silently leaving the room.
Leaving the room was an extremely dangerous task because countless vengeful ghosts roamed the neighborhood at night.
‘Ruan Qing’ moved with utmost caution, making no sound at all. However, his luck was dreadful—once again, he encountered the terrifying corpse that held an iron chain.
Without a second thought, ‘Ruan Qing’ turned and ran. But his stamina was too poor; within minutes, he was gasping for breath, his slender body trembling.
As he ran, his legs gave out, and he nearly collapsed onto the ground. Supporting himself against the wall in a disheveled state, his voice quivered, “I… I can’t run anymore.”
“I’ll take over.”
Ruan Qing instantly possessed ‘Ruan Qing’s’ body. However, because of their brief delay, the horrifying corpse had drawn even closer.
The scene before his eyes was far more terrifying than what he had seen in the mirror. The moment Ruan Qing laid eyes on the corpse, his hair stood on end, and every cell in his body screamed at him to flee.
He could no longer care about the discomfort that surged through him upon possessing the body. Using all his strength, he desperately sprinted toward the other end of the corridor.
Although he had become a ghost, his only ability was possessing his own body—he had no other skills and no means of attack.
The ghost wasn’t fast, but neither was Ruan Qing. Worse still, his body was too frail, and after a long struggle, he had yet to shake off the corpse.
The intense exertion left Ruan Qing breathless. Probably due to oxygen deprivation, his head felt heavy, and his vision blurred.
This body still suffered from Moyamoya disease; prolonged vigorous exercise was no different from seeking death.
But at that moment, Ruan Qing didn’t dare stop—not even when his vision blurred so much that he could barely see the ground beneath his feet.
Just as his sight became unclear, ‘Ruan Qing’s’ voice rang in his mind. “Left, go left.”
Ruan Qing did not hesitate. Instantly, he ran in the direction ‘Ruan Qing’ had indicated.
Under ‘Ruan Qing’s’ guidance, Ruan Qing successfully lost the corpse ghost and hid in a safe room.
Once safe, Ruan Qing immediately returned the body to ‘Ruan Qing.’ The two of them once again sat back-to-back in front of the mirror. Perhaps because they had just cooperated in escaping, the sense of distance between them inexplicably lessened.
Trust and closeness between humans always grew when they faced danger together.
‘Ruan Qing’ lowered his gaze slightly, concealing the emotions in his eyes. Leaning against the mirror, he spoke softly, his voice tinged with confusion, “What kind of person was I before?”
Ruan Qing froze at his words. He turned slightly, glancing at the lost-looking person beside him.
No matter how intelligent someone was, losing all their memories would still leave them feeling anxious and afraid—let alone in a ghost-infested instance.
Even when Ruan Qing first lost his memory, he also felt uneasy and instinctively searched for traces of himself. So, he wasn’t surprised that ‘Ruan Qing’ would ask this question.
However, while Ruan Qing wasn’t surprised, he found himself struggling to answer.
What kind of person was he?
"Probably... a rather arrogant person." Ruan Qing's voice was filled with hesitation and uncertainty because he had never thought about this question before.
"Arrogant?" ‘Ruan Qing’ tilted his head slightly toward Ruan Qing, seeming somewhat puzzled.
Ruan Qing hummed in response but didn’t explain why he thought of himself as an arrogant person.
Seeing that Ruan Qing had no intention of answering further, ‘Ruan Qing’ immediately changed the question. "Then, what do I like?"
"White things, green things." This time, Ruan Qing answered quickly and with great certainty. He even added what he disliked. "I hate red things."
After saying that, Ruan Qing thought for a moment and added, "I don’t like black things either."
‘Ruan Qing’: "…Oh."
After two seconds of silence, ‘Ruan Qing’ glanced at the person behind him, then carefully asked, "Did I ever have someone I liked?"
Someone he liked?
Ruan Qing leaned back against the glass mirror, his gaze falling on the green wallpapered ceiling, his expression tinged with an indescribable complexity. "I guess I did."
"Though I don’t remember anymore."
His initial memories were fake. He didn’t remember that person, didn’t remember anything related to them, nor did he remember who they were to him.
He didn’t even know if that person truly existed.
He only had a vague feeling that such a person existed—someone waiting for him to meet them.
Even after losing his memory, he still had this feeling. That person was probably very important to him.
Unfortunately, he had forgotten everything, even his own identity.
Ruan Qing didn’t notice that the moment he said "I guess I did," ‘Ruan Qing’s’ eyes darkened completely, exuding an inexplicable sense of danger that made an eerie fear rise from deep within.
Even the surrounding temperature suddenly dropped by several degrees, plunging the room into silence. A chilling, eerie atmosphere spread throughout the entire neighborhood.
If the audience in the livestream hadn’t noticed anything unusual before, at this moment, they could feel it clearly.
Even through the screen, they felt that overwhelming fear—so intense that it made them tremble involuntarily, so deep that it penetrated their very souls, so absolute that it erased even the slightest thought of resistance.
The audience was all too familiar with this fear. Every time the streamer was alone in the basement, that terrifying presence would appear.
And now, that very existence was residing inside the streamer’s body!
The person in the mirror—he was the real streamer.
Yet, ironically, Ruan Qing was standing with his back to 'Ruan Qing', separated by the mirror, completely unaware of anything unusual. He even believed that the person in the reflection was just a weaker version of himself—someone in desperate need of help.
The audience in the livestream broke into a cold sweat, immediately flooding the chat with warnings.
[Shit! I knew it! Someone who can send players to their deaths without batting an eye could never suddenly act all weak and scared! Wifey, don’t believe him! That’s not you! He’s deceiving you!]
[No wonder I kept feeling like something was off… Turns out, the streamer isn’t even the streamer anymore! This is bad, really bad! What’s going to happen to my wifey now? Does he even have a chance to clear the game?]
[Clear the game? The dungeon’s final boss is literally inside his body, and he still thinks it’s a helpless, fragile version of himself. Do you really think he stands a chance?]
