My Healing Games

Chapter 343 Think carefully about who the hostages are before taking action.
The woman was trying her best to suppress her anger. She had put in a lot of effort to carry out the soul-summoning ritual and would not allow it to be disrupted. But just as the ritual was getting closer to success, she discovered that her daughter was causing trouble.

Being betrayed by the family you trust most is the most painful feeling.

"Zhuang Qing, you're all grown up now. Since your father passed away, I've rarely interfered in your affairs. I hope you won't interfere in mine either, okay?"

Zhuang Qing felt unfamiliar with her mother's words. Her mother was not like this in her memory. It seemed that everything started with the soul-summoning ceremony, and her mother gradually became different.

The father's spirit could not be summoned, and the mother had become someone else entirely, which made Zhuang Qing even more terrified.

She opened her mouth several times, but didn't say anything. She was hiding another secret in her heart, a secret she didn't even dare to tell her mother.

Seemingly worried about waking her youngest daughter, the mother was very restrained, but the disappointment in her words cut into Zhuang Qing's heart like a knife.

"From now on, you must not go near your father's room."

After uttering her last words, the mother snatched the kitchen knife from Zhuang Qing's hand and left.

The living room fell silent again, and after a long while, Zhuang Qing's voice suddenly rang out.

“But… I also had another dream, in which it wasn’t my father who died in the car accident, but us. We were missing him, and he was thinking of us too. Every time I dreamed of him, he looked even older.”

Her hand touched the bedroom door, as if touching her father's arm: "We all miss you very much, but I don't know if doing this is good or bad. I always have a feeling that if the summoning of your spirit is successful, you might suffer even more."

This time, Zhuang Qing didn't break the door and left quietly.

"They should all have gone back to sleep. Let's hurry up and go." The middle-aged man had a bitter face: "If someone sees me like this, they might really think I'm a ghost."

"Let's wait a bit longer. They said they heard footsteps in the house last night. I want to see what they've attracted." Han Fei had a connection with Zhuang Qing's family, and he happened to know Zhuang Ren in real life, so he was certain that what was attracted was definitely not Zhuang Ren.

If he wanted to quickly gain the trust of Zhuang Qing's family, there was a very simple way: he could summon the real Zhuang Ren's spirit into the Death Building.

The administrators of the Dead Building altered the memories of Zhuang Qing's family, trapping them in a cycle of suffering. Perhaps if they could meet the real Zhuang Ren, their altered memories could be restored.

This family truly moved Han Fei. The father, living in reality, was obsessed with finding his wife and daughter by playing a virtual death game day after day, driving himself to madness.

The wife and daughter, living in the deeper world, kept trying to perform soul-summoning rituals in an attempt to save their husband.

Their memories were altered, but they both wanted to redeem each other in their own way.

Compared to butterflies, they are indeed insignificant, but they all do their best to fight against their predetermined fate.

Han Fei was an observer; he witnessed everything and felt it most deeply.

Zhuang Ren's wife and daughter died many years ago, which is a fact that cannot be changed even with the black box. Perhaps all he can do is convey his longing to the other side.

"If a living person carries too much burden, it may be difficult for them to continue moving forward. Many people understand this principle, but countless people still willingly bear it. Perhaps this is the beauty of humanity."

As Han Fei was pondering, footsteps sounded again in the living room. This footstep was different from all the previous ones; it sounded like someone hopping on tiptoe.

"The mother and her two daughters should have all gone back to sleep. Whose footsteps are those in the living room right now?"

Even a sleepwalking person wouldn't make such eerie footsteps. Han Fei gently opened the bedroom door a crack, and something could be vaguely seen moving in the dark living room.

Holding my breath, after a dozen seconds, the footsteps grew closer and closer, and a woman appeared in the aisle between the sofa and the television.

She moved through the living room on her tiptoes, as if being lifted by something.

"A ghost?" The middle-aged man in the blood-stained clothes looked more like a ghost than a ghost at this moment, but he was filled with fear, and the unease in his eyes was almost overflowing.

The middle-aged man's voice was very low, but it was this faint sound that attracted the attention of the woman in the living room.

Her pale face slowly turned, her toes dragging on the ground as she rushed towards the bedroom.

Their eyes met, and Han Fei happened to see the other person: "Zhuang Ren's second daughter? How come it's her?"

Han Fei recognized the face. What puzzled him was how his second daughter, who had been perfectly fine just moments before, had suddenly become like this. Could it be related to the shrine statue that Zhuang Ren's wife had placed under their second daughter's bed?

At first, Zhuang Ren's wife and daughters behaved normally, no different from when they were alive. Han Fei had also seen their photos in real life. People who didn't know the situation would probably really think that they had been reborn here.

But now Zhuang Ren's second daughter's behavior is completely different from before. Her face is deathly pale, and what's most terrifying are her eyes.

Black lines were interwoven in the whites of her eyes, as if someone was manipulating her gaze by holding the threads in her eyeballs.

At the same time that Han Fei saw her, his second daughter also saw Han Fei. At this moment, Han Fei had already closed the bedroom door again and had the middle-aged man brace the door with his back.

The footsteps outside disappeared. A few minutes later, Han Fei looked through the crack in the door again and saw thick, black hair.

"She doesn't have eyes in the back of her head, how could she look inside..." Han Fei thought of this, then suddenly realized something, and looked up through the crack in the door.

On the top panel of the door, there was a ghost face staring at him!
The woman and the middle-aged man also saw that face. As they instinctively moved away, Han Fei suddenly produced a knife hilt in his hand.

Can a bladeless knife kill someone?
The ghost face didn't dodge or flinch; it remembered Han Fei's appearance. At that moment, the lock rattled, as if it wanted to enter the bedroom!
Blocked by a vengeful ghost, with only the wardrobe behind them, the woman and the middle-aged man were too nervous to speak. Han Fei, however, took the initiative to open the door, as if he were in cahoots with the vengeful ghost, cooperating perfectly.

"Touch the secrets deep within your soul!"

Under the puzzled gazes of the woman and the middle-aged man, Han Fei's blade struck the ghostly face.

The hideous and terrifying face shattered like a mask, and then Han Fei's hand, full of soul poison, grabbed the other's neck. A delicate, blood-red paper figure crawled up his arm to the wound on the ghost face.

As the paper figure burrowed into the ghost's body, Han Fei used the secret of touching the depths of the soul to cover the ghost's mouth, and like a kidnapper taking a hostage, dragged it directly into the bedroom.

"Behave yourself. If you dare to wake up the others in the house, don't blame me for being impolite."

With masterful acting skills, Han Fei's handsome face was filled with coldness and madness, making him look more ferocious than a ghost.

Thank you, Lord Zhuoyao!

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(End of this chapter)