"Talent skills? Nightmare-level rewards aren’t like the others—they change you."

Chen Ge scribbled that thought in his phone notes, a spark igniting in his chest. He’d glimpsed it now: a hidden world lurking in the shadows, dangerous and hungry. Right now, he couldn’t even protect himself, let alone find his parents. But the black phone… it was a lifeline.

"First things first: stabilize the business," he muttered, locking his phone. The night had been a rollercoaster—one wrong move, and he might’ve ended up as another creepypasta statistic. "I can’t do this alone. Time to rally the internet."

He logged into China’s top paranormal forums and uploaded the raw footage: Who’s in the Mirror?

Minutes later, the views exploded. People were starved for something real—not just K-drama fluff or viral dances. Comments flooded in, a storm of shock, skepticism, and morbid curiosity:

"First post: 25:14 is a heart-stopper!"

"This guy’s either insane or a genius. Who films themselves doing thatat 2 AM?!"

"Why’d the mirror crack? Was that… somethingbanging from the other side?!"

"Thermodynamics, folks. Hot air, cold glass. Duh."

"Pfft. Mirrors are evil in feng shui. This isn’t ‘Who’s in the Mirror?’—it’s ‘What’s in the Mirror?!’"

"Holy crap, I’m sweating bullets. Respect, OP."

"This is FAKE. I swear, if it’s not, I’ll eat 360 spins of dog poop. #NoJoke"

"Wait… the uploader’s profile pic is Xijiao Haunted House’s logo. This is a promotional stunt, right?!"

Chen Ge ignored the DMs—skeptics, trolls, believers. Let them argue. The views? 500k and climbing.

He sliced the video into a 14-second clip and dumped it on Douyin, the short-video app drowning in dance trends and food porn. Overnight, his clip became a viral grenade.

People who’d scrolled past 100 "cute cat" videos froze. Thiswas different. At 25:14, the screen shook—mirror cracking, a distorted figure lungingat the glass, like it wanted to claw its way into the viewer’s world.

Comments section? Chaos.

"I SCREAMED. My roommate thought I was being murdered."

"Turned off the lights and checked my mirrors for an hour. Never again."

"OP’s a legend. 10/10 would get traumatized again."

Chen Ge grinned. Perfect.He updated his profile bio: "Xijiao Haunted House – ‘Not Scary At All’ (Spoiler: We Lie)."

Sunlight seeped through the curtains when Chen Ge woke, crumpled on the bathroom floor. His neck ached, but his phone buzzed with notifications: 500+ Followers. Trending in Horror.

He stretched, tucking the old doll (his first creation, salvaged from the mirror) into his pocket. Time to face the day.

8:45 AM. The New Century Amusement Park gates opened in 15 minutes.

A familiar voice pinged his ears.

"Boss!"

Xu Wan bounded toward him, her nurse’s uniform askew, cheeks flushed from running. Her eyes sparkled—thatlook she got when she had gossip.

"You’re just in time," Chen Ge said, trying to sound casual. "I added a new track to the playlist. Wanna—"

"Boss, you won’t BELIEVE what’s happening!" She grabbed his arm, shaking. "People are queuingoutside the park. They’re saying… they’re here for ourhaunted house!"

Chen Ge blinked. "Visitors? That’s… normal?"

Xu Wan gaped. "Normal? Since when do we get lines? Last week, Mrs. Li’s cat got stuck in the coffin prop, and thatwas front-page news!"

He glanced at his phone. His Douyin followers had hit 1.2k. The comments? A warzone. Someone had leaked his address. "10/10 would cry myself to sleep again,"one review read. "Bring earplugs. And a priest."

"Uh… maybe tone down the ‘not scary’ line," he coughed, steering her inside. "We’ve got 15 minutes till opening. Staff meeting: you and me. Today’s gonna be… intense."

Xu Wan saluted, grinning. "Boss, you’re a legend. Let’s make this haunted house terrifying."

Chen Ge smiled, but his fingers brushed the doll in his pocket. The mirror had given him a gift—a talent for the macabre. Now, he just had to make sure the world didn’t tear his ghost house apart before it became a legend.