"Stop trying to scare me. Why aren’t you like those web novel systems that hand out rewards after tasks? You look totally unreliable."

Dr. Chen had long suspected the app on his phone. Its tone felt nothing like a system—more like a chat app, as if someone somewhere was typing replies.

[Rewards? What do you want? The best prize is already on you. And FYI—you’re a regular user now. Sign the contract to unlock the item shop.]

"Such a sweet deal? What’s the catch? No free lunches, right?"

[Complete our assigned tasks: exorcise haunted spots. A standard newbie task—like "Midnight Hair-Combing." Just survive exiting the bathroom. Reward: two anti-ghost talismans. Spirits can’t approach for thirty seconds. Next task: explore Linping Apartments. Survive thirty minutes on the third floor. Finish both, and you level up to VIP.]

*Now this feels familiar.* This was the system Dr. Chen recognized. Sure, delivered via phone—not popping straight into the protagonist’s head like in novels.

[As a VIP, you’ll face supernatural incidents ranked Tier 1 to Tier 7. Rewards scale from basic talismans to demon-subduing incantations… but survival rates plummet. My last user? Died at Tier 2 VIP. You’re different. Unlike clueless newbies, you already hold the ultimate prize. Observation confirms: the Malevolent Ghost haunting you is at least Tier 2.]

"I don’t know if I’m lucky or cursed. What if I refuse? Honestly, any sane person would ditch this. Past users must’ve begged to uninstall you."

[Discard the app or reject VIP upgrade? We send a Malevolent Ghost to erase you.]

"So… you already sent one?"

[Already sent. Wait for death! Bye!]

After that blood-red line—typed like a petulant tantrum—silence. Dr. Chen let out a wry smile. *Definitely human.* Someone working for a shadowy org, using this app to scout bold, sharp-witted survivors… then trick them into clearing hauntings.

His stomach growled. *Breakfast first.*

"I’ve been waiting to die anyway. At least let me eat a proper meal before I go."

Outside, the sky hung gray and heavy. Wind rushed through the open window, carrying a hint of chill. Rain was coming. Dr. Chen bit into a slice of bread and shut the window—then froze. The hazy street below was utterly empty. Not a soul. Not a single car.

The bustling avenue had gone eerily silent.

"What time is it? Hiding from rain?" A cold prickle raced down his spine.

Splash—!

The bathroom faucet suddenly gushed. Startled, Dr. Chen stepped inside. Mirror shards from that shattered night still littered the floor. He reached to turn it off—

The trickling water turned blood-red.

He jerked his hand back.

"That wasn’t an empty threat! You’re serious?!" He never imagined a ghost-hunting app would *actually* send a ghost to kill him. Heart hammering, he patted his pockets—*phone!*—but it was on the kitchen table.

Slam!

The bathroom door slammed shut, locked tight.

"Dr… Chen…"

A woman’s drawn-out whisper slithered from behind. He turned. The toilet.

A deathly pale hand emerged.

"GHOST—!"

BOOM!

The wooden door exploded into splinters.

Ice-cold flooded his body. His breath fogged white. Frost crept across the tiles. Someone stood right behind him—he dared not look.

Under his terrified gaze, the ghostly hand slowly retreated into the toilet.

Silence returned. The faucet flowed clear again.