Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary!

It was as if I had a sudden epiphany.

Staring at the poem in the distance, I took a moment to properly assess the situation.

’The game started the moment it found my voice. With me being its real and only target due to being haunted, the game was one that would end the moment I died. The goal of the game was to kill everyone until I was the only one left.’

This part was merely speculation at first.

However, looking around and seeing that Kyle was gone and so were the others, it was safe to say that my speculation was correct.

My death was the key to ending this twisted game of his.

’In that sense, the Twisted Man right now thinks that the game is over.’

This...

This was an opportunity!

’While the game might be over, it actually isn’t over. It just doesn’t know it yet. I can use this to my advantage!’

If I could just exploit the small holes in its game, I could reverse the entire situation.

But how could I do that?

How could I exploit the holes in its game?

’I need to think carefully. This is a second-order mission. The system confirmed it, meaning that I have the ability to clear it.’

I didn’t need to use some overpowered ability or call the conductor to help me out.

The answer was somewhere around me.

In this room, or with the abilities that I had. Perhaps in the shop? Was there some sort of item in the shop that could help me?

I thought about it before shaking my head.

I couldn’t afford any of the items in the second order shop, and none of the items in the first order shop appeared to be of any use.

So then...

What? What could—!

Voices!

The thought struck me like a lightning bolt.

’That’s right, the key to this game is voices... The moment the Twisted Man hears a voice, it will go for the kill, stealing their voices. This is something that I’ve confirmed and I’ve seen happen multiple times. In that case, what if... What if... it hears its own voice?’

I unknowingly found myself licking my lips.

My heart sped up at the sudden thought. The idea... it was a dangerous one, but at the same time, it felt like the closest thing to the true solution that the system had been hinting at.

No, this was probably the solution.

’...So long as I manage to get it to hear its own voice, I’ll be able to clear the game. Perhaps I might even get it to kill itself, although I doubt it.’

Still...

This was worth a shot.

The idea felt feasible, and I grew excited just thinking about it. However, I didn’t let the excitement get to my head. This was still only an idea. There was no proof that it would work, and most importantly...

’How the hell will I even get this thing to speak?’

Getting the Twisted Man to speak wasn’t actually hard. I had already heard it speak several times.

The main issue was getting it to speak with its real voice.

How in the world could I get it to speak with its own voice? Currently, I was in an advantageous position.

The Twisted Man wasn’t aware of the fact that I was still alive and was most likely assuming the game was over.

In essence, I had the element of surprise.

If I could use this element of surprise to my advantage, then... perhaps getting it to speak with its own voice was possible.

But how exactly could I catch it off guard?

I thought for a few good seconds before once again shifting my attention towards the poem in the distance.

I looked through its words, scanning for any possible clue.

Something about voices. Something about games. Something about—

Ah.

The moment of realization came after a few short seconds.

’Rather than looking at the poem for clues, wouldn’t the whole poem itself be the biggest clue of them all?’

It became pretty clear to me that the Twisted Man cared for the poem.

For the Twisted Man to display the same poem twice...

’The poem must also be related to the game.’

What would happen if I were to make changes to it?

Would it notice? freeweɓnovel.cøm

’...I don’t think the Twisted Man is blind. It just can’t see any humans unless it hears them. In that case, I’m sure it can see the poem.’

Creaaak—

Hearing the floor creak once more, I no longer hesitated.

I called out the Dreamwalker as a long figure appeared, its figure casting a long shadow over me as the moonlight flickered.

Understanding my intentions, the Dreamwalker turned its attention towards the stairs and started to sprint up.

Thump! Thump!

As it ran, it made as much noise as possible.

However, unlike the previous two times, the Twisted Man didn’t move.

It just stared in the direction of the noise, its hunched figure straightening slightly.

I stood rooted in place, waiting for it to move.

But...

The Twisted Man never moved. It remained where it was, staring at the noise without much of a reaction.

’...It didn’t budge at all.’

It had learned from before.

"Hihihi~"

Even as a certain giggle echoed in the air, the Twisted Man remained still, its mouth flat.

"Play? Will you play with me?"

Seeing it so indifferent to all the noise around, I felt a lump form in my throat.

’I really don’t understand the system’s ordering system.’

Was this really a second-order mission?

Shaking my head, I quietly moved towards the wall where the poem was located. I took advantage of all the noise around to arrive there without getting noticed.

’Good, it looks like it didn’t notice me.’

I sighed in relief when I saw that the Twisted Man had still not noticed me.

Slowly turning my head back to the poem that was etched on the wall, I read each line carefully before settling my gaze on the last few verses.

So bite your tongue and mute your cries,

Lest your last sound be his whispered lies.

The Twisted Man won’t leave, you’ll find...

Unless you leave your voice behind.

I looked at the last few lines carefully while ignoring all the noise in the background.

"Are you not going to play with me? Please play with me!"

Thump! Thump!

Honestly, it was quite hard to ignore all the noise, but I had no choice but to.

This was closely related to my own life.

I had to concentrate.

’Focus.. What exactly can I write to change things up? What can I write to stir up the Twisted Ma—!!"

BANG!

My thoughts were abruptly cut off by a sudden crashing sound. Immediately, I turned my head, and I felt my expression change.

The Twisted Man...

Where was the Twisted Man?!

BANG!

A sudden crashing sound shattered the silence, jerking me upright as a searing pain tore across the top of my skull.

It was sharp.

Like something had driven a nail straight into my skull.

My vision blurred, and for a moment, I nearly screamed, the sound caught in my throat as I desperately kept my mouth shut. It was also then that I saw it. A black mark blooming across the back of my hand, pulsing like it was alive.

I knew then...

The Dreamwalker had been killed.

’Shit!’

BANG—!

"Ah...! You’re getting too close!"

Mirelle’s voice echoed, no longer sounding as cheerful and playful as before. I knew then, my time was slipping away. Without hesitation, I turned to the poem etched into the wall, its letters appearing before me under the faint moonlight.

Closing my eyes, I activated my second node, a long shadow slithered over my hand as my hand stretched into a long blade.

Without wasting a second, I moved my hand towards the wall and began to etch the poem.

Skrrr! Skrrr!

A subtle, yet pronounced chiseling sound began echoing in the room.

’This better fucking work...’