The living room felt… vast.
This sense of scale made the sparse arrangement of furniture—chairs, tables, the television—seem even more isolated. The floor tiles were hidden beneath a thick, black carpet. Being in this space was like being inside a giant coffin.
Jiang Ming switched on every light and drew the curtains closed before beginning his inspection. A clock hung on the living room wall as well. He compared its time with the one in the bedroom—they matched.
However, the rules mentioned the clocks could malfunction. He’d have to keep a close eye on them from now on.
After all, “Mom” returned at 7:00 AM sharp. Anyone—or anything—arriving at any other time was *not* “Mom”!
Did that mean the timing had to be exact, down to the very second?
What if a fake “Mom” knocked on the door one minute, or even thirty seconds, before seven, and the clock happened to be off by those few dozen seconds? Would opening the door count as a failure?
Conversely, what if the real Mom returned, forgot her keys, and he didn’t open the door or was late? Would she just leave?
And if the real Mom left, would *that* count as a failure?
Jiang Ming couldn’t be sure. The clues were far too scant, and his understanding of Rule-based Ghost Stories was minimal. He had to assume the worst.
Just as he was about to look away, a crucial thought struck him.
If the time on *either* of these two clocks became unreliable, he’d have no way to determine the accurate hour. He needed to find more clocks.
As Jiang Ming pondered this, a yellow Labrador appeared beside the sofa. It trotted over to him, a yellow dog bowl in its mouth, placed the bowl at his feet, wagged its tail, and gave two short barks.
His train of thought broken, Jiang Ming looked down. His expression shifted as he spotted a note inside the bowl. He picked it up with his fingers and unfolded it.
Rule Set Two:
1. The family dog has no name. Do not give it a name, nor acknowledge any name others call it.
2. The dog is active at night. No matter what sounds you hear, pay it no mind.
3. If you feel afraid while sleeping at night, you may allow the dog into the bedroom. Drive it out again at daybreak.
4. If the dog is already in the bedroom before you enter for the night, then you must sleep in the living room that night.
5. Feed the dog dog food. Nothing else.
6. Do not let the dog go hungry. Do not harm it.
7. If you notice the dog beginning to shed, do not panic. Collect its shed fur and place it somewhere the dog cannot find.
8. The dog is the family’s guardian spirit. You can always trust it.
9. There is one, and only one, dog in the house.
After reading, Jiang Ming frowned. Not because the rules were strange, but because they were *too normal*!
There were no apparent contradictions or conflicts between them at all!
Why was that? Could all these rules be correct? How was this different from the first set of rules?
He fell into deep thought again but soon shook his head, pulling himself out of it. With so few clues, overthinking wouldn’t yield any answers.
Looking at the nine rules before him, Jiang Ming, while hesitant to make absolute judgments, felt reasonably sure of one thing: the dog was likely a very important part of this household. It might even offer him some degree of protection.
He glanced at the wall clock. It was already noon. He must have spent quite a while in the bedroom earlier.
Jiang Ming walked over to a nearby table and saw several large bags of dog food. The supply was ample, more than enough to last the dog seven days.
After filling the dog’s bowl to the brim, Jiang Ming realized he was getting hungry himself.
Rule One, Clause 10: Eat well. Three meals a day. Do not go hungry.
He opened the refrigerator. It was fully stocked with meat, eggs, vegetables, and fruit—more than enough for one person for seven days.
Jiang Ming took out some noodles, a few eggs, a tomato, and some leafy greens, then headed into the kitchen.
…
Half an hour later, having eaten his fill, Jiang Ming resumed his search for potential clues.
The mechanical voice had said the first forty-eight hours of the Ghost Story were relatively safe. He had to make the most of this time.
Although he hadn’t encountered any danger yet, Jiang Ming didn’t believe an entity capable of interdimensional travel or instantly curing ALS had brought him here just for a joke.
…
The living room was large, with many cabinets and corners. It took Jiang Ming considerable time to search it all.
He found only ordinary household items: bandages, medicine, disinfectant alcohol—all in good supply. But he found neither a third clock nor any clues about the cabinet password.
The kitchen and bathroom yielded nothing useful either. There was also a guest room and a storage room, but still no clues.
Jiang Ming took a short break. Thoroughly searching such a large house was physically draining.
He picked up a glass, filled it with water, and drank it in one go. His gaze then fell upon the only room he hadn’t explored yet—Mom’s bedroom.
The black door was tightly shut, adorned with eerie, blood-red patterns. An aura of ominousness emanated from it.
It gave off an uncomfortable feeling just to look at, which was why Jiang Ming had avoided it earlier.
But with no clues found elsewhere, no matter how reluctant he was, he had to brace himself and proceed.
He gently turned the handle. A chill shot up from his palm. The black door let out a creak, and a note drifted out from the crack:
Rule Set Three:
1. Conserve electricity. Do not waste it.
2. Always remain in well-lit areas. When you are in darkness, *They* can see you.
3. If you encounter difficulties, you may seek help from the neighbors.
4. Do not be active in the living room at night.
5. Do not trust the dog.
6. The house is safe. Do not let anyone else inside.
7. The door will block the monsters outside.
Jiang Ming carefully studied this new set of rules. Though only seven clauses long, it created massive conflicts with the previous rules.
Clause Five alone fundamentally contradicted almost all of Rule Set Two.
Furthermore: during the day, he was to keep the curtains closed, yet he must always remain in the light. Being exposed to darkness meant being “seen.” This implied the lights must always be on, yet the rules also said to conserve electricity.
And now there was mention of “neighbors.” But neighbors would necessarily be *outside*, conflicting with the earlier rule about not going out!
Clause Six stated not to let anyone in, but a previous rule said “Mom’s” friend would visit and must be warmly welcomed, as she was trustworthy.
A headache pulsed behind Jiang Ming’s eyes. *Is this the world of Rule-based Ghost Stories? Is this S-Rank difficulty?!*
…
His expression shifted through a series of changes. Finally, he pocketed the note and pushed open the door to Mom’s bedroom.