ALWARFC Chapter 61

Ever since its debut, «Another Side of Family Life» has been mockingly dubbed the “Unmasking Machine”. Any guest who joins the show inevitably ends up revealing their truest self on camera. Some gain a massive following, some face public disgrace, but most manage to survive at least one episode.

Su Anyao, however, shattered her public persona within just two days on the show, setting a new record low.

Currently filming in City A, Su Anyao has seen her “ethereal goddess” persona instantly transform into that of a comedy star, thanks to this notorious program. The internet is flooded with viral images of her and Gu Shuangshuang in a mock wedding ceremony, with everyone referencing the classic historical phrase, “Liu Bei, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei swore brotherhood in the Peach Garden”. Truly, a spectacular embarrassment.

Yet, after analyzing the data with her company, Su Anyao realized it wasn’t all bad. While a small portion of her fans felt disillusioned, the majority of netizens found her newfound relatability endearing and were completely on board. Instead of a downward spiral, her popularity actually took a slight boost.

Early in the morning, she rushed to set, scrolling Weibo on her phone as she pondered whether her shattered persona was a blessing or a curse. Still, if Gu Shuangshuang didn’t suffer the same fate alongside her, the social humiliation just wouldn’t feel complete.

With that thought, she checked the back-end of a certain app, only to find that Gu Shuangshuang had unexpectedly not posted any updates.

Su Anyao: Where’s your update? Ghosting again?

Gu Shuangshuang: Send me 3000 and I’ll show you real skill.

Su Anyao: You’re already dead, what do you need money for? Not like I could wire it to you even if I wanted to.

Despite saying that, when Gu Shuangshuang sent her an official payment QR code from some app along with instructions, Su Anyao, confused about what software this was, still gave it a shot. To her shock, the payment actually went through.

She was stunned: So on Qingming Festival, instead of burning paper offerings, I should have just sent you a WeChat transfer?! But didn’t you say the underworld has nothing? What are you even spending this on?

Gu Shuangshuang: Pay to win.

Gu Shuangshuang: A prize pool even greedier than “Above the Court”.

Su Anyao: ?

Any further questioning was futile. Gu Shuangshuang was determined to say nothing more.

Baffled, Su Anyao had no choice but to change the topic: Didn’t you say the High Priest lives next door to you? Have you seen your idol yet? I haven’t heard you mention them lately.

Gu Shuangshuang: …

Gu Shuangshuang: I have.

Su Anyao felt even more puzzled. Just then, the nanny van pulled up to the film set, so she simply replied, “Hurry up and update,” before putting away her phone. She missed Gu Shuangshuang’s belated response: Do I have a death wish? Like I’d dare write about it.

She stepped out of the vehicle and came face-to-face with the director.

“Director Li, morning.”

Li Lang waved her over. “Anyao, perfect timing. We’re skipping your scenes for the next couple of days. Let’s be real, you can’t pull off horror anyway. My friend’s horror attraction just opened, so I’m taking a few of you there to get in the right mindset…”

Meanwhile, in the eastern study, the crisp summer morning breeze drifted through. Su Ran was dutifully finishing his chores while the freshly awakened Su Weisheng resembled a dragon inspecting his hoard.

Su Ran dusted off the thin layer of dirt on the bookshelf, occasionally glancing back at his great-grandfather, who lounged idly by the window, long porcelain-white fingers absentmindedly playing with a pair of Eastern pearls. Even dressed in the plainest home attire, his innate elegance remained undiminished. Su Ran’s gaze instinctively held a trace of admiration.

A noble son in an era of peace, a warrior who can wield his sword to shape the world in times of chaos—who wouldn’t admire such a perfect, almost mythical figure?

Su Weisheng gazed at the Eastern pearls, his thoughts drifting elsewhere. He turned to Su Ran. “Did you bring the carving tools?”

“I did. They’re in the backyard,” Su Ran gestured toward the courtyard’s third section.

Su Weisheng gave a simple nod, returning the pearls to their silk-lined box before pulling out a newly purchased jade from the lower shelf.

Seeing this, Su Ran eagerly volunteered to carry it to the backyard for him. Not stopping there, he meticulously cleaned the workshop, earning a few curious glances from Great-Grandfather.

What a diligent little servant. Compared to the mouthy troublemaker he used to be—the top star who spent his days dodging debts and chasing film roles—he was nearly unrecognizable. Great-Grandfather gave a slight nod and casually praised him, “You’re showing progress, Zhaocai.”

The top star in question had no idea he was slowly being tamed. Hearing Great-Grandfather’s compliment, he swayed his head proudly. “Of course! Who could be more considerate than me?”

“Hmm…” Su Weisheng hesitated. Zhaocai was certainly thoughtful now, but he wasn’t the most considerate person he knew. Still, no need to dampen the child’s enthusiasm.

Great-Grandfather was beginning to master the art of proper education.

Su Ran, basking in the glow of praise, kept busy. Meanwhile, Su Weisheng studied the smooth, translucent jade, formulating a rough design in his mind. He powered up the carving machine, expertly slicing the jade into palm-sized pieces, then picked up a sculpting blade. His fingers moved swiftly, imbued with a touch of spiritual energy, and soon, the outline of a chibi figurine emerged.

Tick, tick, tick… The clock on the wall marked the passage of time.

Su Weisheng’s hands moved faster, refining the small sculpture. With the details sharpened, the tiny figure had slightly wavy hair, legs casually crossed as he lounged in a chair, one hand resting under his chin. His sly, fox-like eyes curved into a mischievous smile, full of playful cunning.

A soft chuckle sounded from behind. “So that’s what my expression looks like when I sit behind the monitors, observing? No wonder I always look so punchable.”

Su Weisheng turned around, only to meet a pair of sly, smiling fox-like eyes.

There stood You Sui, leaning lazily against the wall, head tilted as he gazed at him. The upward curve of his eyes shimmered with amusement, his gaze drifting from Su Weisheng to the chibi figurine in his hands. The corners of his lips quirked up uncontrollably.

Side by side, the figurine looked almost identical to its real-life counterpart.

You Sui murmured, “I thought your mind was entirely occupied with that wild great-grandson of yours. Didn’t think you’d remember there’s someone else waiting for a little comfort.” His words carried the weight of reproach, but his voice—soft, languid, and utterly indulgent—held no bite at all.

Su Weisheng chuckled, equal parts amused and helpless. “Only you would get jealous of your own great-grandson. You can’t even stand me spending time properly educating him. Where’s the dignity of an elder in all this?”

Ah, well, perhaps he hadn’t given the little monster enough of a sense of security.

With that thought, he sighed and extended an olive branch. “Aren’t you coming over?”

Before his keeper, the little monster always lost all composure. One moment, he was sulking; the next, his body betrayed him, arms wrapping around Su Weisheng’s waist from behind. He buried his face against the crook of his neck, nuzzling softly, allowing the familiar scent to slowly soothe him.

Su Weisheng handed him the figurine.

You Sui took it eagerly, studying the chibi version of himself with fascination. “Just me?”

“Of course not just you.” Su Weisheng gestured toward the tiny figure who tilted his head with a mischievous smile to the right. His voice was gentle as he traced an invisible outline in the air. “To your right, there should naturally be me. Otherwise, just who are you looking at?”

He pondered for a moment before envisioning the next set of figures. “There should be more people standing behind—Zhaocai strumming a guitar, Laijin playing mahjong, and Yin’er scheming up mischief… That way, we can have a full-fledged family, neatly displayed in our study.”

You Sui listened quietly, his fox-like eyes narrowing as he schemed. No, there would be no wild great-grandson, no Su Laijin or Su Laiyin—figurines should be in pairs, just the two of them. The rest could all be packed up and sold off—no need for distractions in their little world.

Once his lover had talked to his heart’s content, he smiled and added, “Since I’m keeping the figurine, shouldn’t I also give a return gift?” He casually handed Su Weisheng a prepared contract. “It’s a sponsorship deal. See if you want to take it.”

An advertisement? Su Weisheng eyed him suspiciously. You Sui met his gaze with earnest sincerity, as if he were simply a dutiful husband handing over easy money.

With cautious skepticism, Su Weisheng flipped through the contract and quickly grasped the gist of it. The sponsor was a newly opened, large-scale immersive escape room venue, offering a generous sum. The requirement? The show had to send two to four guests to City A for a three-day, two-night live-streamed experience, broadcast 24/7 on the platform.

Su Weisheng raised a brow. “You sure this is my return gift?”

You Sui showed not a hint of guilt. He tightened his grip around the High Priest’s slender waist, chuckling softly with dissatisfaction. “I haven’t interfered with your plans to educate your great-grandson properly. But you can’t just leave me with nothing sweet in return, can you? That would be far too unfair.”

Su Weisheng let out a small scoff, fully aware of the little tricks he was playing. Still, without hesitation, he signed the contract and tossed it back at him. “Try acting like an elder for once.”

Main hall, lounge area.

The guests slowly gathered, their discussions revolving around the upcoming three-day, two-night immersive escape room shoot.

Su Ran flipped through the event details with clear displeasure before turning to Su Weisheng. “Great-Grandfather, why would you agree to this kind of advertisement?”

Su Weisheng, standing at the bar counter, casually mixed a glass of lime soda and carried it over. He gave him a puzzled look before replying matter-of-factly, “Because the sponsor paid us.” He took a sip—refreshing, just like the taste of free money.

Su Ran: “…” Logical. Unarguable.

Sunny, intrigued, asked, “Isn’t immersive roleplay basically just an escape room?”

At the mention of “escape room”, Su Ran’s expression darkened instantly.

Lu Huanjin glanced away from Su Ran’s face, then turned to explain to Sunny in a neutral tone. “Escape rooms focus on NPCs chasing and scaring players, whereas immersive roleplay is more like online faction-based mini-games.”

“Oh, so it’s like that. As long as it’s not horror, that’s fine.” Two people in the room visibly relaxed at the clarification.

Then, Lu Huanjin abruptly turned his gaze back to Su Ran, scanning him up and down before remarking with clear intent, “You seem pretty tense.”

“Tch, I just find it ridiculous. What’s the point of playing childish games like this? If you want to play, you should play something truly exhilarating.” Su Ran scoffed dismissively.

Lu Huanjin: “So, you’re signing up then?”

“Don’t bother trying reverse psychology on me. I’m not signing anything.” Su Ran shot him a disdainful look, stood up, stuffed one hand into his pocket, and shook his head as if shaking off the absurdity. “There’s no way it’s that simple—there’s definitely a trap in this. No way I’m walking into it.” With that, he left without the slightest hesitation.

His exit was so decisive that he missed the stunned expressions of the others. Even Su Weisheng watched his retreating figure with a thoughtful murmur, “Could it be that he wasn’t born foolish, just a late bloomer?” The boy had actually shown intelligence, for once.

Su Ran had indeed wised up. He was now fully focused on navigating family politics; recklessness was a luxury he could no longer afford. With vigilance dialed up to twelve, he prepared himself for every unexpected twist that might come his way.

Besides, he had a think tank now.

Jiang Jinbao: Not going is the right move. The eldest great-grandson just pulled off an unexpected victory. Who’s to say this isn’t their next play, whispering sweet nothings to lure you in? They call it an “immersive escape room”, but once you’re there, it might just turn into an escape room.

The one speaking was Jiang Yimian, leveraging his extensive experience of getting beaten up by his uncle to analyze the situation for his friend.

At this point, it wasn’t just the great-grandson who was too deep in the family drama—the entire group chat had turned into master tacticians.

Another advisor in the group, Song Qing, approached the problem from a different angle. Normally a bit of a goofball, he had once been a favorite in Great-Grandfather’s circle, accumulating valuable insights on competing for favor.

My Husband Can Screw a Cactus: Eldest great-grandson, do you know who else is heading to City A for the immersive escape room shoot?

Su Ran: Just Great-Grandfather and You Sui.

My Husband Can Screw a Cactus: This is an open scheme. He’s banking on you not daring to go, using the ad shoot as an excuse to steal away Great-Grandfather for a little two-person retreat.

The think tank rapidly dissected the situation, forming a surprisingly sound theory. According to their analysis, the ad campaign was likely funded by Director You himself. Although they claimed it required 2–4 guests, from the start, it had always been designed for Great-Grandfather and You Sui alone, never intended to include two extra guests as inconvenient third wheels.

Abusing his position to snatch his lover away for some private quality time… Director You, you’re truly shameless.

After some deliberation, they concluded it was best to lay low for now rather than engage in direct confrontation.

Since the trip lasted three days and two nights, Su Weisheng only packed a few changes of clothes. His luggage was simple and minimal.

With about an hour left before departure, he pushed his suitcase into a corner of the living room. Seizing the spare time, he checked the progress of the underworld group’s assignments, specifically, the wish fulfillment list for the first lottery-winning ghost.

To keep progress transparent, the group had set up a live feed of updates. Upon clicking in, he was met with a heart-wrenching rant from the lucky (or unlucky) ghost, lamenting their miserable encounter with a scumbag.

【Jiang Qiuxin is garbage. He’s not even worthy of being called human. How could he treat me like this? I just can’t accept it!】

【I met Jiang Qiuxin when he was ten. Because he had delicate features, the other kids mocked him, calling him effeminate. In this whole world, I was the only one who ate with him, played with him, did homework with him—even shared a bed with him. At night, he would often cling to me, silently sobbing, saying I was his only friend.】

【For over a decade, we remained inseparable—sharing meals, sleeping in the same bed, even fighting over the same pillow. But slowly, things began to change…】

【A girl confessed to me, saying she wanted to have children with me. I thought I might try being with her, but Jiang Qiuxin exploded with a possessiveness I had never seen before and drove the girl away. I found his behavior too obsessive, and I wanted to leave. But instead, he locked me up, refusing to let me have any contact with the outside world. From that moment on, my entire world consisted of only him.】

Well, this was a long, emotional essay, leaving everyone completely stunned.

Yan Wan, thoroughly engrossed, eagerly played along: And then? Did you escape?

Bug, confused: Why were you living with him? Didn’t you have your own home?

【I didn’t escape. Gradually, I got used to it. I even convinced myself that a world with just the two of us was fine.】

Yan Wan, distressed: Kid, you were totally brainwashed!

Bug: How could you possibly get used to that? That makes no sense.

Ignoring Bug’s skeptical commentary, the winning ghost continued recounting their memories:

【Maybe. But at the time, I didn’t think so. I was completely caught up in the illusion of it. Until one day, he started staying out all night, and I slowly began to notice unfamiliar scents clinging to him. That was when I knew—he had grown tired of our isolated world. He was cheating. And not just once.】

Yan Wan: Got it—childhood friends, the seven-year itch, possessive love, betrayal. Next step? Utter emotional ruin.

Bug: Completely unreasonable.

【Heh, you’re absolutely right. When I found out he was cheating, I completely lost it. I threw huge tantrums and tried running away multiple times. But his influence was too strong. Every time, I was dragged back. So, for a while, we spent our days fighting—over his betrayal, over my freedom.】

【Later, there was no need to fight anymore. Because I died. But the year after my death, I ran into one of his friends in the underworld. He told me that after losing me, Jiang Qiuxin was heartbroken for a while. Then he started looking for substitutes. Every single one looked just like me… I feel so unwilling to accept it.】

Yan Wan summarized the situation: The classic tragic arc. Heartbroken after death, the toxic lover regrets everything, starts collecting substitutes. At this point, you should transmigrate into a substitute’s body, torment the scumbag emotionally and physically, then swap love interests for a happy ending.

Bug: How did he even manage to keep dragging you back? How powerful was he? What was his status in the living world?

Su Weisheng read the story and figured that, in his emotional state, the ghost might just end up blocking Bug altogether.

The only one who stayed silent in the group was Su Ning. Instead, he privately called Su Weisheng after the discussion. “Great-Grandfather, after listening to his story, I feel like something isn’t right. This is just his side of the story. To be cautious, I’d like to meet Jiang Qiuxin first before deciding whether to arrange a dream visit.”

“Go ahead.” Su Weisheng appreciated his careful approach and offered a piece of advice. “Don’t get stuck in conventional ways of solving problems. Thinking outside the box will help you understand this matter more clearly.”

Su Ning responded, “Understood. I looked into Jiang Qiuxin. He’s currently in City A. I’ll go in person to probe him.”

What a coincidence. Su Weisheng raised a brow in mild surprise and chuckled. “You Sui and I are headed to City A soon for an immersive escape room ad shoot. If you run into any trouble, reach out anytime.”

After hanging up the call, he pushed his suitcase outside, only to run into You Sui at the door.

You Sui asked, “Who’s heading to City A?”

Su Weisheng replied casually, “Su Ning is going on a business trip. He’s leaving today as well.”

At that, You Sui smiled slyly. “What a coincidence. It must be fate. If he’s free, maybe we should invite him along. It’ll make things even more interesting.”

Su Weisheng gave him a skeptical glance, about to say something, when a loud thud sounded in the distance. Both turned toward the noise and caught sight of their great-grandson, who had just slammed into the window. Rubbing his forehead, Su Ran rushed in.

“What?! I thought you two were going for a private getaway, so I backed off to avoid disturbing you. But you—this is outrageous! You were planning to ditch me and bring that wild great-grandson instead? Just the three of you?!”

Su Ran was practically on the verge of spitting blood. He clutched his chest, dramatically lamenting, “Unbelievable. Let me tell you—there is absolutely no way! As long as I, Su Zhaocai, the rightful eldest great-grandson, exist, that wild great-grandson will never take my place!”

Su Weisheng stared wordlessly at the furious Su Ran. “…He only suggested it. He didn’t say Su Ning was definitely coming. Stop losing your mind.”

No, no—an abandoned eldest great-grandson must undergo a dark transformation into the ultimate feral great-grandson.

Su Ran shook his head and sighed in despair. “Great-Grandfather, you’re far too naive. You think it’s just a coincidence? No way. My great-grandmother is definitely pulling strings behind the scenes to elevate that wild great-grandson. This is a blatant bid for power! I refuse to sit by and let it happen! I must join this immersive escape room trip!”

You Sui, unimpressed, said coolly, “Even if you wanted to go, you can’t. The sponsor requires either two guests or four. If you want in, you need to bring a partner. Do you think any of the other guests would go with you?”

Their argument had already drawn quite a crowd eager for entertainment.

Su Ran immediately turned to Sunny, attempting to recruit the most harmless guest to join him.

Sunny shook his head wildly. “I’m not interested in this at all!”

Su Ran then turned to Lu Rong.

As a devoted dad fan, Old Lu naturally wanted to accompany his precious Ranbao. But after taking a quick phone call, he returned with an apologetic look. “I’ve got unfinished work. I need to stay in the capital for now.”

Su Ran: “…”

Finally, he set his sights on Lu Huanjin. The latter shook his head, clearly rejecting the idea, but the top star had already made up his mind. He grabbed Lu Huanjin’s hand and dragged him into a corner, muttering under his breath—who knew what kind of deal he was striking?

You Sui crossed his arms, leaning back slightly, and chuckled as he asked Su Weisheng, “You’re not stopping him?”

Su Weisheng watched his great-grandson bounce around with an unreadable expression. “Will this trip to City A be good or bad for him? Either way, he can’t dodge it. The fated challenge is coming.”

The chaos finally settled ten minutes before departure. In the end, it was Su Weisheng, You Sui, Su Ran, and Lu Huanjin who set off together to film the ad in City A.

The most amusing part? All four sat in the same business vehicle—clearly harboring hidden agendas and simmering tensions—but oddly enough, everyone seemed satisfied. No fiery exchanges, no immediate verbal sparring—just an unusual moment of peace.

Su Weisheng certainly had no complaints. After all, with Su Ran tagging along, his share of the ad fee would automatically end up in Great-Grandfather’s pocket. Meanwhile, You Sui sat beside him, absentmindedly fiddling with the chibi figurine, fox-like eyes glinting with unknown thoughts.

In the back seat, two people were deep in whispered discussions over WeChat.

Su Ran: We agreed to work together—you keep an eye on You Sui and Su Ning. If they try anything, report to me immediately. In return, once this is over, I’ll help you write and release an album. No matter how bad you sing, I’ll get a top-tier sound engineer to make you sound heavenly.

The eldest great-grandson was so determined to win favor that he was willing to temporarily reconcile and collaborate with his sworn enemy—even the traitor he despised most. Truly, he was giving it his all.

Lu Huanjin responded with an “OK”, sealing their deal.

As night fell, they arrived smoothly in City A. The immersive venue was a grand castle built atop a mountain. Standing at the entrance, a young man with delicate, elegant features had been waiting for some time. Dressed in a gray-and-white tuxedo, he wore rimless glasses with golden chains draped on either side of his face, exuding an air of refined intellect.

“Welcome, esteemed guests,” his voice was gentle yet captivating. “I am the DM—the host of this game. I’ll be guiding you through the standard gameplay process. You may call me Grant for this session.”

Su Weisheng gave a slight nod, his gaze sweeping past the entrance’s surveillance camera. Seeing its red light flashing nonstop, he knew the live stream had already started the moment they arrived.

After brief pleasantries, the butlers and staff stepped forward to take their luggage. Grant led the guests into the castle, casually introducing the surroundings as they wandered through. Everyone glanced around with curiosity. Soon, they arrived at the dressing rooms on the first floor.

“One room per person. Please change into your costumes and exit through the back door. Our journey begins now,” Grant instructed.

Su Weisheng, however, did not immediately enter. Instead, he turned back to ask, “Are we the only players participating in this script-killing game?”

Grant shook his head, smiling. “The game you’re about to play is an 8–20 player module. Aside from the four of you, four other guests have already changed and entered the game ahead of time.”

Su Ran frowned. “Who are the others? If eight players are needed, why not just invite all the guests at once?”

Grant chuckled, his peach-blossom-shaped eyes glinting behind his glasses. His voice remained patient as he explained, “That’s to make the show more entertaining. In addition to you four, one player was randomly matched into this round, while the remaining three were guests brought by my friends.”

Lu Huanjin nodded and explained to Su Ran, “If all the players were guests from the same show, their familiarity might dampen the interaction. But with a mix of acquaintances and strangers, unexpected chemistry emerges. Part of the game’s fun is the mutual probing between NPCs and players to extract information.”

“Oh, I see.”

Su Ran and Lu Huanjin each selected a dressing room and stepped inside, but the remaining two hesitated, catching Grant’s attention. He tilted his head in curiosity.

You Sui’s gaze lingered on the last two dressing rooms before he asked, “We can’t share a room? We have to be separated?”

“Yes. Each guest has their own storyline to follow, so naturally, you must start separately.” Grant smirked, teasing, “Don’t worry. You’ll reunite before bedtime. No need to be so reluctant.”

Clearly, the two were longtime acquaintances. You Sui wasn’t offended by the teasing. Instead, he shot Grant a meaningful remark. “Grant, you and your staff should be careful. If anyone gets injured on the job, our production team won’t take responsibility.”

Grant: “…?”

Hearing this, Su Weisheng seemed to pick up on some hidden message. He cast Grant a thoughtful look before nodding and stepping into his dressing room.

Leaving behind a very confused DM, still trying to decipher their cryptic exchange.

Inside the dressing room, rows of pristine medieval attire were neatly arranged. Su Weisheng picked a knight’s outfit that allowed easy movement. Following the instructions on the desk, he pushed open the back door and descended a winding stone staircase. Before long, he arrived at a dimly lit underground corridor, its pathways sprawling in multiple directions.

Just then, Su Weisheng heard a piercing scream echo from an unknown direction.

“Help—!”

The voice sounded unmistakably like Su Ran.

Of course, the first victim was always the poor great-grandson.

He sighed sympathetically.

At that moment, a towering shadow emerged from the corner. Squinting, Su Weisheng spotted a burly, scarred man—easily eight feet tall—brandishing a chainsaw with a sinister grin, slowly approaching.

“…”

What an intense opening scene. No wonder Su Ran had screamed so miserably.

Meanwhile, in front of a stone door in the underground corridor, two blood-soaked female ghosts, dressed in tattered robes, staggered forward. Their pace slowed… and slowed… until they could no longer move. One of them turned her head ever so slowly and complained, “Boss, stop pulling. We need to get to work.”

Behind them stood Grant, clutching the back of one ghost’s white robe, his peach-blossom eyes blinking mischievously. “No rush. Wait a little longer. We need the chainsaw guy to chase the little lord all the way to this door. By then, he’ll be desperate, thinking this place is his last lifeline. When he runs in, you two jump him. That’ll scare him so bad, he might lose his soul on the spot.”

With absolute seriousness, he imparted his expert knowledge on terrorizing players, getting increasingly excited as he spoke.

“You Sui said he wanted to use this venue for a romantic getaway with his wife, right? Hah! Let them try. For these three days and two nights, I’m giving those lovebirds special treatment!”

The female ghosts listened carefully to his instructions but couldn’t help making a final plea: “Boss, fine, we get it—but can you please stop pulling at our robes? They’re about to come off. Boundaries, please?”

Grant answered matter-of-factly, “No can do. I’m scared.”

The ghosts: “…”

A boss who fears ghosts yet loves acting like one to terrorize players—truly a rare breed.

At that moment, the sound of rapid footsteps echoed from the far end of the corridor—closer, closer.

Grant’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Here he comes! Get ready to scare him!”

Everyone focused, poised to strike. In the distance, a tall, lean figure in riding attire sprinted toward them at an alarming speed. Behind him, the eight-foot-tall brute wielding a chainsaw closed the gap quickly. Soon, they would both reach the stone door where Grant and the female ghosts were waiting…

But just as the chase seemed inevitable, Su Weisheng leapt lightly off the ground, swiftly flipping through the dilapidated window on the opposite side of the corridor.

The chainsaw-wielding man hadn’t expected him to suddenly change direction and hurriedly tried to pivot, only to trip over his own feet.

Thud— Face-first into the ground. His dulled chainsaw clattered a short distance away.

Grant and the female ghosts exhaled in disappointment. They had almost cornered Su Weisheng—just almost!

The next second, Su Weisheng remained standing, utterly unshaken, making no attempt to flee. Instead, he glanced down at the abandoned chainsaw, then casually picked it up.

Before anyone could react, he slowly turned, his cold, razor-sharp gaze locking onto Grant and the ghosts, who were peeking out from behind the stone door.

A faint, unreadable smile curved on Su Weisheng’s cool-toned face, as if he had just stumbled upon something amusing.

Then, with a deafening whir, he powered on the chainsaw.

“Now…” His voice was calm, almost teasing. “…It’s my turn to hunt you.”

Roles reversed.

The little lord sprinted straight toward Grant and his crew, chainsaw in hand.

“AAAAH—HELP!!!”

The trio’s terrified shrieks and frantic footsteps echoed endlessly through the underground corridors.

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