I Became a God in a Horror Game

These were the words Mu Shicheng had said to Bai Liu before entering the game.

Now Bai Liu returned them to him verbatim.

Mu Shicheng fell silent for a long while before finally forcing out a muffled:

“Fuck.”

You can fucking do this too?! This bastard actually got onto this train?!

Mu Shicheng stood there for a moment, clicked his tongue, then opened his points wallet.

“Tell me everything you know. How many points do you want? If it’s under three hundred, I can consider buying your information.”

He was preparing to purchase Bai Liu’s intel with points.

After watching Bai Liu clear a game once, Mu Shicheng had already realized exactly what kind of person Bai Liu was.

This man loved money.

As long as points were involved, Bai Liu would never refuse them, nor would he waste even a single point. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

And Bai Liu had survived the explosion. He belonged to the category of players who had personally experienced “The Last Train to Blast Off” in reality and successfully survived it. The information and data he possessed were naturally extremely valuable to someone like Mu Shicheng, who currently knew nothing about the game and had entered blind.

There was no way Mu Shicheng would reject a ready-made strategy guide.

“Pay whatever you think is appropriate.” Bai Liu slipped a hand into his coat pocket and touched an old wallet. The smile on his face grew noticeably more genuine. “Mu Shicheng, what I actually want to discuss is this: I’ll share the game’s settings and information with you, and when necessary, you help me out a little. How about a mutually beneficial partnership?”

Mu Shicheng looked Bai Liu up and down.

Bai Liu was staring at him with utmost sincerity.

Crossing his arms, Mu Shicheng arched a brow and smiled meaningfully.

“Work with me? So you’re giving me all this information for free?”

“It’s not exactly free.” Bai Liu sighed lightly, waving a hand with exaggerated generosity. “A rich player like you accepting detailed game data for nothing would make me feel a little bad. How about this—just give me one or two hundred points as a symbolic gesture.”

The smile on Mu Shicheng’s face instantly turned vicious.

“One or two hundred? Keep dreaming. You want to cooperate with a high-level player like me, and on top of that you expect me to spend hundreds of points buying unverifiable information from you? You’ve got quite the imagination.”

He sneered.

“I haven’t even settled the score with you for using one point to steal my two-thousand-point item yet.”

Bai Liu paused.

“...One point is fine too.”

“Hold on.” Mu Shicheng narrowed his eyes. “Something about this feels off. Bai Liu, you’re actually asking another player for cooperation inside a game?”

He scrutinized Bai Liu carefully.

“You don’t strike me as the kind of idiot who trusts people easily. Do you seriously believe that just because I verbally agree, I’ll actually help you when the time comes?”

“Even if you’re a newcomer, I still consider you a competitor. I’m not stupid enough to underestimate you. You’ve got plenty of tricks up your sleeve—even I might get played by you.”

Mu Shicheng’s gaze sharpened.

“So you suddenly wanting to cooperate with me feels very suspicious. It looks like a setup.”

He didn’t believe Bai Liu hadn’t already considered all of this.

Without a guild acting as an external constraint, cooperation between players in this game was nothing more than an empty promise with zero credibility.

Take Mu Shicheng himself, for example.

As a Super A-rank player, once he extracted all the information Bai Liu knew, whether he chose to help afterward would depend entirely on his own mood. And if he refused?

What exactly could Bai Liu do to the fourth-ranked player on the Rising Star leaderboard?

“There’s no setup. I genuinely want to cooperate.” Bai Liu spread his hands calmly. “This is a Level 2 game with a high mortality rate, and my panel attributes are only F-rank. If I don’t find someone powerful to work with, dying would be far too easy.”

He paused, then smiled.

“Besides, I think we share a common enemy.”

Mu Shicheng raised a brow.

“A common enemy?”

“The Puppet Master is in this game too.” Bai Liu smiled faintly. “You probably don’t want to deal with a group-control player like him by yourself, right?”

Mu Shicheng’s expression changed instantly.

“How do you know he’s here?!”

His reaction wasn’t strange at all.

Back during his hardest period as a rookie, the Puppet Master had practically been his psychological trauma.

The Puppet Master had once wanted to turn Mu Shicheng into one of his puppets. Even after Mu Shicheng repeatedly rejected his recruitment attempts, the man refused to give up. He constantly teamed up with other players to hunt Mu Shicheng down by any means necessary, ruthless to the extreme and completely indifferent to whether Mu Shicheng lived or died.

Every single ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) time, Mu Shicheng barely escaped alive.

If not for his personal skill granting him terrifying speed, he would have been captured and turned into a wooden puppet long ago.

Back then, before Mu Shicheng had fully matured, the Puppet Master had been his natural predator.

Even now, despite how powerful Mu Shicheng had become, he still found the Puppet Master utterly revolting and wanted nothing to do with him inside a game.

Both of them were intelligent players.

But if Bai Liu’s style could be described as “taking unconventional paths,” then the Puppet Master’s style was outright “taking evil paths.” ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

During the prolonged pursuit of Mu Shicheng, the Puppet Master quickly realized something:

No player in this game could physically catch Mu Shicheng.

So he changed methods.

With his terrifying ninety-three intelligence points, the Puppet Master soon devised an entirely new way to capture him.

And that time—

Mu Shicheng had genuinely almost become a puppet.

No matter how fast Mu Shicheng was, there were still people capable of stopping him.

Because there were people he would never run away from.

During his rookie period, Mu Shicheng often entered games with a friend. Solo play had simply been too difficult for newcomers.

That friend had entered the game around the same time he had. They knew each other in reality, frequently teamed up together, and initially had a very good relationship.

Mu Shicheng had never trusted him blindly, but he also hadn’t guarded against him much.

At some point, however, the Puppet Master managed to win that friend over.

The man joined the Kings’ Guild and secretly cooperated in a plan to capture Mu Shicheng.

The friend deliberately lured Mu Shicheng into a game while the Puppet Master entered beforehand and lay in wait. The moment Mu Shicheng entered, he walked straight into a large-scale ambush and slaughter.

In the end, Mu Shicheng lost both hands.

His mental value dropped to eighteen.

Driven into a frenzy, he slaughtered every puppet player under the Puppet Master’s command before barely clearing the game.

When he emerged, half his body had already begun mutating into a monster. He was drenched in blood, delirious, and nearly insane.

Ever since that incident, Mu Shicheng had hated the very concept of “cooperation.”

And he treated it with extreme hostility.

Logically speaking, Bai Liu had entered the game first. He shouldn’t have known who the later entrants were.

So how did Bai Liu know the Puppet Master was here?

Unless Bai Liu had arranged beforehand to enter the same game with him.

The thought instantly reminded Mu Shicheng of the ambush from his past, and his expression darkened further. Red light flickered in his eyes like a danger alarm.

One of his hands silently transformed into a sharp grey-black monkey claw behind his back.

He stared at Bai Liu expressionlessly.

“Bai Liu. If you can’t give me a reasonable explanation for why you know the Puppet Master is in this game...”

His voice turned cold.

“...then your journey ends here.”

Without the slightest panic, Bai Liu opened his game manager and showed him the screen.

A bright red forum post was pinned clearly on the interface:

[Puppet Master has entered “The Last Train to Blast Off” and declared that he’s going to capture Bai Liu and turn him into a puppet!]

The hostility on Mu Shicheng’s face froze.

The red glow in his eyes dimmed considerably.

“How are you opening the forum?” he asked. “Once you enter a game, you’re not supposed to be able to contact the outside world.”

“It’s my personal skill.” Bai Liu didn’t elaborate further. “I saw on the forum that you’ve had similar experiences before—being hunted by him to be turned into a puppet.”

He smiled and extended a hand.

“So for now, we’re on the same side. Cooperation?”

Then, narrowing his eyes slightly, he added with a smile:

“Of course, I don’t accept freeloaders. Even one point is enough to show sincerity.”

Mu Shicheng narrowed his eyes.

He unwrapped a lollipop, popped it into his mouth, and stared at Bai Liu for a very long time.

Finally, he raised a hand.

A one-point coin appeared between his fingertips out of thin air.

Wearing an equally fake smile, Mu Shicheng pressed the coin into Bai Liu’s palm from above, like tossing charity to a beggar.

“Fine. Let’s cooperate. We share information, help each other, nobody freeloads.”

He grinned mockingly.

“Here’s one point worth of sincerity.”

...He was clearly still bitter about Bai Liu tricking him with that “I don’t freeload” line over a single point earlier.

Bai Liu closed his fingers around the coin, the smile in his eyes deepening.

“I can feel your sincerity.”

“My sincerity is this—” Mu Shicheng hooked a finger under the massive monkey-ear headphones around his neck and pulled them down. The shrill monkey chatter stopped instantly.

He shoved both hands into his tracksuit pockets and sneered sideways at Bai Liu.

“—when the time comes and you’re crying while begging me for help...”

Mu Shicheng’s grin widened maliciously.

“...if you cry sincerely enough, I might reluctantly help you.”

The corner of Bai Liu’s lips curved almost imperceptibly.

“No problem,” he replied naturally. “I’ll definitely cry very sincerely. So sincerely you won’t be able to stop yourself from helping me.”

At the same moment, the system notification rang out in his mind.

[System Notification: Player Bai Liu and Player Mu Shicheng have established a cooperation agreement.]

[Agreement Details: During the game “The Last Train to Blast Off,” whenever Player Bai Liu requests assistance, Player Mu Shicheng must do everything within his ability to help him. If Player Mu Shicheng refuses to cooperate, the system will enforce compliance. In return, Player Bai Liu must share all information he possesses with Player Mu Shicheng and provide assistance at critical moments. Fixed compensation rate: one point.]

Mu Shicheng looked at Bai Liu’s gentle smile.

Before he could even urge Bai Liu to start talking, a sudden chill crawled up his spine.

...Why do I suddenly have the feeling I’m about to get scammed again?

While Bai Liu and Mu Shicheng waited for the final train, the game lobby and forum had already exploded with activity.

The multiplayer section was packed wall-to-wall with spectators who had rushed over to witness the rare spectacle of several major players appearing in the same game.

“Holy shit! It really is Puppet Master, Mu Shen, and Du Sanying! How the hell did those three end up together?!”

“It’s already rare enough for top players to run into each other these days—they usually avoid one another on purpose. What’s going on this time? Three big shots in one game? And it’s a Level 2 game nobody’s ever cleared before?!”

“The big shots probably wanted something more exciting... but this is way too exciting!”

“I seriously can’t decide whose livestream to watch. I’m a Du Sanying fan, but his games are always just him lying down and winning, so they’re not that fun to watch. I want something intense. Should I watch Mu Shen or Puppet Master?”

“I’m conflicted too! I’ve got a new favorite now—Bai Liu. Wuwuwu, he was insanely cool last time! I recommend his stream too! The excitement level definitely isn’t lower than Mu Shen’s or Puppet Master’s!”

“Oh my god, here we go again. People keep forcing recommendations for this newcomer Bai Liu everywhere. Can players who haven’t even cleared a multiplayer game stop talking?”

“I just checked his stream, and he’s actually discussing cooperation with Mu Shen. Is he stupid? Doesn’t he know Mu Shen never cooperates with anyone after getting betrayed? I’m dying laughing. Mu Shen definitely agreed just to mess with him. Bai Liu’s about to get played to death.”

At the moment, Bai Liu’s momentum was terrifyingly strong.

His ranking might not have been high yet, but his discussion volume certainly was.

His previous clearance video—with its uniquely distinctive style—had already attracted a solid group of fans.

But naturally, wherever there were fans, there were haters too.

Especially for a player like Bai Liu: someone who had risen absurdly fast despite possessing terrible panel stats and lacking the kind of raw strength most players respected.

As a result, Bai Liu’s reputation among low-level players was exceptionally poor.