Horror

Bootleg Black Wukong was all the rage among my classmates.

One of its scenic areas was called the Land of Mahayana.

Everyone who played it became obsessed and went there to check in.

But not a single one of them came back.

I received that pirated disc too.

What they didn’t know was that I was the only Earth Master successor.

My husband jumped from a building and died in a pool of blood.

The police quickly cordoned off the scene.

A few days later, the autopsy report came back: the cause of death was a massive intracranial hemorrhage, and his body bore numerous signs of a struggle.

The police told me he had committed suicide and that there was no killer. I didn’t believe them.

I was livestreaming fortune-telling when I connected with a male streamer.

When I asked if he had ever killed anyone, his expression shifted instantly. “Yeah,” he replied. “And you’re next.”

Ten minutes later, there was a knock at my door.

The bullet chat was exploding with people screaming for me to run. “He’s that famous serial killer streamer!”

I let out a soft chuckle. What they didn’t know was that I am the sole Earth Master successor.

At exactly midnight, there was a sudden knock on the dormitory door.

I thought it was just the dorm warden doing rounds, but then a cold, mechanical voice rang out in my ear- [Ding-The Zombie invasion has begun. Your first WeChat meme sticker is now your life-saving artifact.]

My three roommates were: an Avatar, Briar, and an Armor Hero.

Trembling, I tapped on my phone… My first meme sticker was my ex-boyfriend’s grinning face.

After my twin sister was bullied at school until she jumped to her death, I took her place and infiltrated the campus.

During break, I received a blood-soaked note of intimidation:

[The prey has returned. The game continues.]

The signature was a Joker with a disturbingly twisted smile.

Everyone was waiting to watch me suffer.

But what they didn’t know was that the roles of prey and hunter had already been quietly reversed.

Because I was the sole heir to the Gu King of Nanjiang.

I was a Little Blind One, and I met an Old Swindler.

To keep ourselves fed, the two of us pretended to be Daoist priests, making a living by conning our way into wealthy households.

That day, the General’s Mansion put up a notice seeking someone with profound magical power to enter the estate and catch a ghost.

The two of us gritted our teeth and immediately decided to go big or go home!

Who would have thought that, inside the General’s Mansion, more people died with each passing day?

Oh my god. There really was a ghost.

The Old Swindler trembled as he shielded me behind him.

The malicious ghost’s shriek pierced our eardrums.

Silently, I formed a hand seal. “Gather the baleful qi of heaven and earth, thunder descend!!”

Old Swindler: “??? Wait, you actually know how?!”

A friend of mine was developing a residential complex for a real estate company in Xi’an when they discovered an ancient tomb. To avoid delaying construction, they chose to cover it up and report nothing. But none of them expected that someone would write a line on the wall of the work shed in red pen. Rules of the corpse-nurturing ground: 1. Do not feed the corpses raw meat. 2. If you see a child under the age of ten, close your eyes immediately. 3. Eat the rats.

“Earth Master”

The village had suffered drought year after year, yet the villagers still received us warmly and treated us to baths.

After we finished bathing, the next day, spring water began bubbling up from the dried-up well at the village entrance.

The villagers were ecstatic.

“You have been chosen by the Spring Spirit. Stay here forever.”

What they didn’t know was that I was the only Earth Master successor.

A buddy of mine who drove long-haul trucks took a job delivering a Buddha Head.

The Buddha Head had clearly arrived safely, yet he came down with a fever that wouldn’t break and was plagued by nightmares.

By the time I heard the news and rushed to the hospital, he was already delirious from the fever.

His scalding-hot hand clamped tightly around mine.

“Brother Long, I… my Buddha Head was stolen. The Buddha Head is gone!”

“Dashun, the Buddha Head was delivered. It wasn’t lost.”

His wife and mother stood around him crying, but no matter what anyone said, he insisted that his Buddha Head had been lost.

A perfectly healthy man was down to his last breath.

I turned to Dashun’s boss and said, “Where is the Buddha Body? I’ll deliver it.”

A serial killer targeting young women had appeared in our small town.

He even had a following of brainless sycophants who helped spread his message: “Women are better off staying in their place.”

As I was about to head out, my neighbor cautioned me, “Are you wearing a skirt? It’s not safe lately.”

I smiled. “You’re right. He isn’t safe.”

It is a little-known fact that criminals are even more vulnerable than women or children.

After all, whether they end up dead or maimed, they can never step into the light.

Why couldn’t he just stay in his place?

He just had to go and catch the eye of a lunatic like me.