Become A Character Who Dies Within Three Chapters

The only information Louis had about this world from 666 was that there were monsters here, that this world contained many more miniature worlds within it, and that the protagonist of this world wasn't by his side right now.

He asked 666 how he was supposed to find the protagonist, and it immediately told him to look for the strong and special ones. Moreover, he should interact with as many people as possible, because sometimes the soul fragments weren't entirely on the protagonist. Just like in the previous world, although Luna and Lucas were both protagonists, they didn't have the soul fragments on them either.

Got it, got it. In short, even protagonists came in varieties: this protagonist, that protagonist.

At this moment, Louis and the group of people destined never to be that protagonist stepped into the haunted house.

Like one colleague said, whether day or night, everything turns equally dark once you enter a haunted house.

The path before them was so narrow that only three people could walk side by side. The surroundings were dim, with only a faint, eerie red glow ensuring they could at least see the road ahead.

Louis walked at the very back, his hands and legs trembling, despite the group of people before him.

"Aaaaa!"

A sudden piercing scream erupted ahead, making Louis jump in fright, his whole body flinching.

He secretly clenched his fists, and upon noticing that many of his colleagues were just as startled as he was, he finally let out a small breath.

Who isn't afraid of ghosts, anyway!

Someone swore loudly: "Do you really have to scream that loud up front? I nearly pissed myself!"

"A bunch of cowards, hahaha."

That instantly drew curses from the front.

"These NPCs are way too lifelike, they're giving me the creeps!"

"Why don't you try leading for once? It's easy to talk big from the back!"

"We're just giving you the big rewards, that's all!" someone defended from behind.

The group laughed, the oppressive, gloomy tension dispersing a little.

But that was for them—not for Louis! To him, this group gave off a bone-deep sense of being nothing more than the doomed cannon fodder at the start of a horror story!

By now, he had reached the spot ahead—where the group had screamed in fear moments ago.

There on the ground lay a dried-up corpse. No, not quite a skeleton—its body still clung to patches of gray-black skin, as though a person had been directly air-dried, the bony frame grotesquely outlined.

Its eye sockets were empty, two gaping holes swallowing up half the skull's space. The lower jaw was smeared with rotten flesh that clung stubbornly to its teeth.

Louis: "..."

He slowly followed behind the group, not letting out even the faintest scream. Not scared, hahaha, not scared at all—what's there to be scared of? It's just a prop; no matter how ugly it looks, it can't move. Yes, that's right. No matter how terrifying it looked, as long as it lay still like a real corpse...

Just then, a sharp cracking sound rang out—like bones breaking.

Louis froze.

Don't look back, don't look back, don't look back, don't look back!

You idiot!

It was as if another version of himself was screaming frantically in his head. But despite that, Louis's head slowly, almost casually, turned to glance down.

The dried corpse that had been lying face-up suddenly tilted its head. Those two hollow sockets stared directly at Louis like twin whirlpools trying to drag his soul away. The corners of its shriveled lips tugged upward, stretching and tearing what little flesh clung to its face.

The next moment, its entire body sprang up. In the blink of an eye, it appeared right before Louis, its gaping mouth like a blood-soaked basin, its arms and legs wrapping tightly around him!

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Louis! Louis, are you okay?!"

The others rushed back at the sound of his scream.

Louis felt himself being shaken so hard he nearly vomited. His eyes snapped open, breath coming in ragged gasps—and then he saw it.

The corpse was still lying on the ground. Its head hadn't tilted. It hadn't leapt on him at all.

And yet, Louis knew. He knew it had just toyed with him. The others didn't, but he understood the truth of this world!

Louis had already decided he wasn't going to sit here and die. He had to live, he had to meet the protagonist. And no matter how he looked at it, this haunted house was a trap.

So, trembling and terrified, Louis said:

"Just now—I saw the corpse suddenly move. It got up, it smiled. From the moment we came in here, everything's felt cold. There's definitely something foul in this place. We should get out. I feel like this is really dangerous..."

A few people hesitated when they heard him. Just then, a mocking laugh rang out loud and clear.

Looking back, the group had parted, and a tall, arguably the most handsome man stepped forward. He was the bold one who had always taken the lead.

"What a coward. It was all just your imagination, Louis. And even if that corpse did get up, it's just a prop powered by batteries. Can't believe someone actually got scared by this thing."

Someone else chimed in: "Exactly. Of course, a haunted house feels cold—they've got the AC blasting. Adds to the realism, hahaha."

The others found it reasonable. Louis looked overly timid to them, scared nearly out of his wits. Soon enough, they moved forward again.

Louis: "..." Hopeless!

At that moment, a hand suddenly reached out to Louis. He looked up and realized it was the female colleague who had warned him outside earlier.

She smiled, her face gentle and pretty, her long black hair falling slightly forward with her movements. "Come on, stand up. If you walk alone, you'll just be even more scared."

Instinctively, Louis grasped her hand and pulled himself up.

From memory, he recalled her name—Layla. She was pretty popular in the company, practically the office beauty, with no shortage of admirers chasing after her.

Layla only came up to Louis's shoulder. Tilting slightly, she smiled at him: "Hard to believe even you would be scared of ghosts, Louis."

Clearly, even when dealing with someone as eccentric as Louis, she neither looked down on him nor treated him with disdain, keeping her attitude natural.

Louis pressed his lips together, saying nothing, but Layla didn't seem to mind.

Then Louis suddenly spoke: "Miss Layla, aren't you afraid of ghosts?"

Layla looked at him in surprise, not expecting him to start a conversation. It seemed Louis really was scared—so much so that even his usual demeanor had changed.

Layla thought to herself, then smiled, shaking her head: "No, I don't believe in ghosts. For me, there are far scarier things out there."

Louis nodded thoughtfully. Then, Layla suddenly added, "I also never noticed your voice was so pleasant to listen to."

Louis chuckled. A pleasant voice? That's nothing—I've got a face that's downright deadly handsome.

"Miss Layla's voice is lovely, too."

The two of them continued walking and talking. At the very least, it helped Louis ignore how his heart was pounding, as though it might leap right out of his throat.