My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 96 The Only Way to Clear the Stage

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 The Only Way to Clear the Stage

Han Fei chased with a knife in hand, until the master bedroom door was flung open. The mother, who previously looked human, had now transformed into a terrifying monster. Stimulated by the child’s crying, her body swelled to twice its size, and it was covered in bloodstains.

Upon seeing the woman, the Little Ghost reverted to his original form. Clutching his broken leg, he pointed at Han Fei while crying out incessantly.

Driven by maternal love, the woman charged at Han Fei.

Han Fei didn’t confront her head-on. He dashed into the secondary bedroom, and as if anticipating the move, raised his knife to chop off the arm hidden behind the door, then kicked the door fiercely!

"Come out! Follow me!"

Reaching under the bed, Han Fei grabbed his brother by the collar and yanked him out.

The brother was scared into tears, adding his cries to those of the other child in the room.

The sound of the mother ramming the door grew more violent; the lock quivered!

Han Fei was on guard for anything behind the wardrobe and door, but then the curtains fluttered with the wind, and he felt a light touch at the back of his head.

Turning around, he saw a Hanging Ghost dangling behind the curtain, its shoe tip the thing that had touched him.

By the time he realized it, the Hanging Ghost had already pounced on him.

Simultaneously, the secondary bedroom door burst open, and the mother—with a face smeared in blood and wood splinters—thrust her head into the room, glaring ferociously at Han Fei.

His body torn apart, the pain caused Han Fei to lose consciousness.

...

Biting until blood flowed, Han Fei shattered a picture frame, his gaze coldly fixed on room 1091’s door.

"If I kill all the people and ghosts in the room, I should be able to unlock a completely new ending."

Han Fei didn’t know why such a thought came to him, feeling somewhat estranged from himself. It seemed like he was slowly becoming someone else: "It seems the system’s hints aren’t complete. Dying here not only results in memory loss, but also the loss of one’s humanity."

With each death, struggling in pain and endless despair, Han Fei could clearly feel the psychological changes within himself.

"To end all this, there’s only one way: to seriously face the next death and find the sole path out of this infinite cycle of reincarnation."

Recording the number of deaths and his own name with glass fragments, Han Fei pushed the door open and entered.

He planned to trap the mother in the master bedroom, kill the corpse in the fridge with hair from the bathroom, then moved the emptied fridge next to the secondary bedroom and opened its door.

Han Fei had the location figured out and lured the Little Ghost with the model from beneath the TV.

Timing the seconds in his mind, Han Fei didn’t even glance as he smashed the fire basin towards the door after four seconds.

The Little Ghost appeared just then, struck by the fire basin filled with paper money ash, tumbling to the side and falling into the opened fridge.

Before the Little Ghost could react, Han Fei quickly shut the fridge door and dragged it back to the bathroom before opening it again.

The frantic Little Ghost burst from the fridge, only to be ensnared by the black hair; it cried desperately but couldn’t break free.

To disassociate himself, Han Fei immediately retreated before the mother went berserk, using all his strength to drag the fridge back to the secondary bedroom.

The entire process took less than thirty seconds, Han Fei’s proficiency was startling.

"The real brother is hidden under the bed. After scaring him, the mother will still come. Before he cries, I need to deal with all the ghosts in the secondary bedroom."

Without fear, without dread, Han Fei maintained a disturbingly calm expression.

Brandishing a kitchen knife, he charged into the room, slashing at thin air.

Arms appeared at the doorway just as Han Fei, with effort, brought the kitchen knife down; it felt as though they were extending right into his reach on purpose.

Having severed the arms behind the door, Han Fei leaped onto the bed and started swinging the kitchen knife wildly at a spot by the curtains.

Amidst the screams, Han Fei sprinkled the ash of paper money from the fire basin, intending to drag the Hanging Ghost into the fridge.

Just then, the wardrobe door opened, and Han Fei, as if he had eyes on the back of his head, didn’t even look as he thrust the kitchen knife backward.

The bloody clothing was ripped apart, giving Han Fei precious time to severely wound the Hanging Ghost. But as he was multitasking, shadows surged from under the desk like a tide. These were Dark Souls hiding in dark corners.

Han Fei’s body was dragged by countless hands into the darkness under the desk, his being completely submerged by Ghost Faces.

...

The fourteenth time he opened his eyes, killed by Dark Souls.

The fifteenth time he opened his eyes, dragged down the stairs and killed by the Hanging Ghost.

The sixteenth time, wrapped in Blood Clothes, all his blood drained by them.

The seventeenth time, he was besieged and killed.

The eighteenth time, he took too long to smash the mirror and was strangled to death by his hair.

...

Slowly opening his eyes, the man picked up the photo frame and smashed it, he grabbed the sharpest fragment of glass and instinctively slashed at his own arm.

After drawing forty-four bloody marks, he hesitated for a moment, then added a forty-fifth.

"What do these bloodstains represent? Why is this pain so familiar to me!"

His eyes were full of blood silk, and he looked at his arms—one dripping with fresh blood from the slashes, and the other unharmed.

"I seem to have forgotten something."

With the arm covered in bloodstains, he clutched a piece of glass and slowly carved a name into the other arm.

Han Fei!

He pushed open the door, blocking the heads, and entered the house.

"The next step is to get the key."

The man had forgotten many things, but he was extremely familiar with this room, as if he had always lived there, aware of every ghost’s location, each corresponding to a different pain in his brain sea.

Luring his mother into the bedroom to obtain ropes and restraints, he lured and killed the corpse and the girl’s head in the refrigerator and then lit the kitchen stove.

While hunting ghosts, he was distracted enough to smash the mirrors.

The man’s actions were timed to the second; he entered the bedroom three times, the first time luring out the little ghost from the pile of toys, using the hair from the refrigerator and bathroom to kill the little ghost.

The second time, he cut off the arm behind the door and stabbed the sharp knife hidden in the toy pile into the Hanging Ghost’s heart.

Before Blood Clothes appeared, he exited the bedroom, moved the living room sofa to block the master bedroom door to prevent his mother from coming out.

Then, on the third entry, he opened the auxiliary bedroom, right when Blood Clothes was in the middle of consuming the dark energy of the Hanging Ghost.

After it finished off the Hanging Ghost, the man spread his arms and put on the Blood Clothes.

Adorned in Blood Clothes, countless tiny blood vessels pierced his skin, slowly drawing his blood but also protecting his vital areas.

Kicking over the desk, dark souls crawled out from under it, nearly filling the room.

The man, faced with this terrifying scene, showed no expression; his short-term memory was astonishing—he even remembered every dark soul’s movements.

As countless Lonely Ghosts pounced on him, he weaved through the gaunt arms, each missing him by a hair as if they had rehearsed their moves in advance.

Leading most of the dark souls to the bathroom, he used the hair there to strangle them, then, armed with a kitchen knife and clad in Blood Clothes, he surrounded and killed the remaining dark souls.

After ensuring all dark souls were killed and his body heavily drained by the Blood Clothes, he rushed into the kitchen and leapt towards the flames.

The fierce fire scorched both his body and the Blood Clothes, his cold gaze fixed on the screaming Blood Clothes until the last fragment turned to ash; only then did he leave.

"The clothes worn during the killing were burnt."

Dragging his nearly broken body, the man grabbed whatever he could see nearby and hurled it at the bathroom mirror.

When the last piece of mirror fell from the frame, the woman’s screams and the black hair in the bathroom disappeared.

Silently turning around, the man faced the auxiliary bedroom.

Counting the time, three seconds later, a disfigured boy crawled out from under the bed.

The child had a simple expression, but his body was constantly mutating, thick blood vessels erupting from within, emanating intense malice.

The brother had become a Monster, consuming everything in the room, including toys, delicacies, light, and the love of parents.

The Monster grew more terrifying and revolting, and if the man didn’t act, he too would be devoured.

"According to the medical record, after killing all the ghosts, to clear the level, the Evil Ghost within my brother must be killed, but is there really an Evil Ghost within my brother?"

The Monster drew closer, and the man, dragging his wounded body, became calmer, "I forgot why I came here, but I remember someone telling me to kill all the ghosts, to save everyone."

The man raised the kitchen knife but did not harm the Monster; instead, he pointed the blade at himself, "No matter how ferocious and frightening brother becomes, in your memories, he’s still human, and the reason I can’t leave is there’s still a ghost in this house that hasn’t been killed."

Pressing the kitchen knife against his own throat, the man still remembered his own obituary in the photo frame at the door.

"The last ghost is me."

He slashed his neck with the knife tip, and as the room, which seemed normal, began bleeding everywhere, everything started to reveal its true form.