Bug Abuse? I Swear I'm Just Playing Normally!
Ch. 26 - Heartbeat Warning – The Terrifying Abandoned Warehouse

Everyone’s expressions darkened.

So the sender of the letter… was a ghost.

From the very beginning, this had been a supernatural incident. Lin Yuan’s wife had died, but her longing for her husband lingered even in death, turning her into a ghost. This was a tale of love beyond the grave.

And the group of players—cast in the role of bandits—had, in such circumstances, killed Lin Yuan.

The situation was grim. If that ghost named Xinran ever found out her husband had been murdered, things wouldn’t stop at just calling the police.

They would have to write her a letter in return, to deceive a ghost.

If they slipped up in the slightest and raised her suspicion, the outcome would be total annihilation. No matter how strong a player was, there was always one limit: a lack of paranormal coins. And without system restrictions, a ghost on a killing spree was utterly unstoppable.

So surviving seven days in this town meant enduring seven letters from the ghostly Xinran—and they could not afford even the smallest mistake. Otherwise, it was game over.

Judging by the fates of previous parties that had been wiped out, this would be no easy task.

“Grandpa, what was Lin Yuan’s wife’s name?” Bai Wan suddenly asked from the back of the group.

The old man thought for a moment and replied, “Something like… Xinran, I think.”

Bai Wan gave a slight nod. While it was unlikely Lin Yuan had remarried, they couldn’t risk such a foolish error. Better to confirm. 

So, it really was Lin Yuan’s deceased wife, Xinran, who had sent the letter.

The group wanted to press for more information, but the old man said he was tired and went back inside to rest. With that, their lead was cut short.

They wandered around the village a bit longer but found barely any people. Some elderly villagers peeked from inside their homes but didn’t open their doors even when they saw the group approach. No one dared force their way in.

With the sun about to set and nightfall bringing danger, they had no choice but to head back to Lin Yuan’s house.

As they passed the abandoned warehouse in the yard, everyone instinctively looked at it, then quietly gave it a wide berth.

Luo Ya, already the most timid among them, was visibly trembling. She stared at the warehouse door, barely daring to breathe.

What’s in there?

A terrifying ghost? A secret realm? Their own corpses?

It was the unknown that was most terrifying. 

Luo Ya’s mind spun with flashes of every horror story she’d ever read. But she made it past the warehouse without incident, letting out a breath of relief—then instinctively turned back to glance at it.

And immediately shivered.

The warehouse door was open.

Luo Ya’s eyes went wide.

No… that’s impossible. It was definitely shut just now…

A bone-deep chill surged through her.

She opened her mouth to scream—but in the blink of an eye, when she looked again, the door was shut.

Huff… huff…

She gasped for breath, eyes locked on that door. Had she imagined it?

Maybe she’d been too tense and hallucinated… She’d read online before that intense stress could cause hallucinations…

Just then, her boyfriend Wang Jian’s voice came from behind in a panicked shout.

“Yaya! What the hell are you doing?! Why are you so close to the door?!”

The shout snapped her out of her daze—and her face went white with horror.

Shhk!

She suddenly realized she was less than half a meter from the warehouse door. She could see the grain of the weathered wood clearly. 

And the others? They were already inside the house. She was the only one still in the courtyard.

Her legs gave out. She wanted to run, but her limbs were limp with fear.

Thankfully, Wang Jian ran over and carried her back inside. Even after returning to the house, she was still badly shaken.

It had been so close…if Wang Jian hadn’t called out, she might’ve walked right into that warehouse. And that would’ve been the end of her.

Sun Qian and the others also stared grimly toward the distant warehouse. That place was beyond ominous. Just walking past it had been terrifying. There was definitely something inside that they couldn’t hope to handle. No wonder the system had issued a heartbeat warning.

From now on, best not to go out unless absolutely necessary.

Suddenly, Sun Qian’s gaze swept the room—and his mind blanked.

“Wait a minute. Where’s Lin Yuan’s body?”

The others froze and looked toward the corner where they’d left the corpse. But it was completely empty.

“Didn’t we lock the door when we left? No one could’ve come in. And there aren’t many people in the village to begin with,” said Wang Jian, holding up the house keys. He’d found them in a bedroom and had definitely locked the place properly.

“Even if someone did get in… who the hell would steal a body?” Sun Qian wiped cold sweat from his brow.

If no one had come in—then Lin Yuan had gotten up and walked away on his own.

That corpse… had moved by itself. Which meant it could be hiding somewhere in the house. Just imagining a corpse hiding in some dark corner, watching them in silence, made everyone go cold.

Suddenly, Xu Bing, standing in an obscure part of the living room, said, “Come look at this.”

Everyone rushed over, steeling themselves. Xu Bing had always been calm, yet her voice now carried clear dread.

Even so, what they saw still made them jump.

Hiss—

A black-and-white photo hung on the wall, showing Lin Yuan holding hands with a woman. The moment they saw her, they all knew: that had to be Xinran, his wife.

But something about the photo felt off. It was as if the two people inside were watching them.

In the dim light of the house, the black-and-white picture looked more like a funeral portrait.

“When did this photo get here? It wasn’t here before!”

Everyone could feel the crushing pressure of this unsolvable dungeon now. The letter from the dead. Lin Yuan’s vanished corpse. The possibility that he was now a ghost hiding among them. Not to mention that godforsaken warehouse.

This was only the first day—and already it was this messed up. How were they supposed to survive a full week?

“We can’t panic now,” said Su Yuening, trying to steady herself. “We still need to write a reply. If the ghost gets suspicious, we’re finished.”

Her words brought the group back to their immediate crisis.

Yes—the letter. They couldn’t afford to delay.

“How should we write it?” Wang Jian asked.

“We don’t know much about Lin Yuan or his wife, so we should stick to vague, generic content,” Sun Qian replied.

“Right, and we should avoid using names. We don’t know how they normally addressed each other,” Su Yuening added.

“The real problem is the handwriting. If it doesn’t match, she’ll notice immediately,” Bai Wan said thoughtfully.

Everyone fell silent. That was indeed the biggest issue.

“Use your left hand. Say your dominant hand got injured,” Xu Bing suggested.

“Any other ideas?” Sun Qian asked, but no one offered a better solution.

After a while, they all agreed to go with Xu Bing’s plan.

“Alright. Let’s work on drafting the reply first, then we’ll copy it into the letter,” said Sun Qian. He was visibly tense.

After all, what they were attempting… was deceiving a ghost. One couldn’t be too careful.

In the end, they took out a pencil they’d found in the bedroom. Xu Bing had the neatest handwriting among them, so she carefully wrote the letter with her left hand.

[I received your letter. I miss you so much, too. It doesn’t matter that your parents don’t approve, I still believe in our love. I tripped while walking yesterday and hurt my hand, so I had to write this with the other one. It’s a short reply. Please take care of yourself. Don’t worry about me.]

The letter was essentially a reworded version of what the dead wife had written. They didn’t dare add anything more. There were definitely holes in it, but with how little they knew about the situation, this was the best they could do.

“How do we send it?”

Another problem arose. After all, they had no idea where to deliver the reply.

Just then, the air above the table shimmered—and the letter vanished into thin air. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the game had its own way of handling the delivery, so they didn’t need to worry about the address.

With the letter sent, it was getting late.

“It’s ten o’clock. Time to sleep. The game says one person per room, or we’ll keep losing paranormal coins,” Sun Qian said, checking the time and glancing at the dark sky outside.

Damn it, I really don’t want to sleep alone…

Things had already gotten this creepy during the day—who knew what the night would bring?

Some of the female players were visibly terrified, Su Yuening included. She’d always been afraid of ghosts since she was young. Even joining the official organization hadn’t changed that much.

She casually swept her gaze across the group and saw everyone’s solemn expressions—except Bai Wan, who was yawning.

Good grief… is he seriously just ready to sleep?

Rooms were chosen shortly after. Lin Yuan’s house was a decently sized self-built home with enough rooms for everyone. 

But the doors were oddly designed—modern metal doors on the outside, yet with large gaps beneath that let you see through to the hallway. Typical artist eccentricity, but it made everyone feel even less safe. 

Could something creepy squeeze in through those gaps?

Still, no matter how reluctant they were, everyone forced themselves into separate rooms to avoid losing paranormal coins.

Bai Wan, by contrast, actually felt fairly secure.

Before entering the dungeon, he’d bought his bug skill Door Vanish and still had 530 paranormal coins left—most of them thanks to the Lan City team.

That was more than enough to use the Bloody Skeleton Bandage. He could even briefly fuse with the Blood Husk Idol embedded in his arm—an abyss-grade paranormal item.

Plus, he still had that cute little sunflower on his shoulder, quietly soaking up sunlight. It should be charged enough to summon a plant soon, right?

Besides those main tools, he had plenty of miscellaneous items, including the two Blood-Seal Tag that Su Yuening had given him.

He was no longer the unarmed rookie who’d entered his first dungeon empty-handed.

Bai Wan glanced again at his bug skill Door Vanishing Technique. Because of its high level, it wouldn’t unlock until later in the dungeon. There was still a lock icon next to it, with a four-day countdown.

Alright. Gotta lie low for four days. Once the skill’s unlocked, I’m sticking that ghost right into a wall.

Having made his plan, Bai Wan stepped inside his room, shut the door, and sat on the bed.

It was hard and dusty—not remotely as comfortable as his ghost ship quarters. 

He looked around and found a small hammer, probably used for minor repairs, and slipped it into his pocket just in case.

With preparations complete, he lay back and closed his eyes to rest. In a dungeon like this, no one dared to actually fall asleep.

……

Wang Jian leaned against the wall, exhausted but unwilling to doze off.

This was an unsolvable dungeon. One moment of carelessness could mean death. 

He was also worried about his girlfriend, Luo Ya. She must be scared sleeping alone.

He’d met her three years ago while shopping at a supermarket and fallen for her at first sight. It had taken a full year of pursuit to win her over. He genuinely loved her—even if she always looked down on him.

Time passed quickly while zoning out. The night outside had grown even darker.

Unlike the city, the village had no nightlife. No lights, no movement. Outside, it was pitch black—a deathly silence that seemed to swallow the world.

Wang Jian couldn’t help but think back to that terrifying warehouse from earlier.

Luo Ya had nearly walked into it. That place was far too dangerous.

What the hell was inside? Why would a mere painter like Lin Yuan have something so terrifying sealed in his storage?

He couldn’t make sense of it.

This dungeon, The Letter, was truly pushing the limits.

Creaaaak…

Suddenly, a noise came from outside—not right outside his room, but from the yard.

His room had a window facing the courtyard, so the sound was clear. Something had just opened a door.

He froze.

Wait… the yard gate had been locked tight. The only door that could’ve opened… was the warehouse.

The warehouse door just opened. Something had come out.

A wave of dread washed over him. Right now, in that seemingly empty yard, an entity could be wandering freely.

Tap.

Footsteps echoed in the main hall.

Wang Jian held his breath.

Then came a knock on the door.

Knock knock knock…

His room door.

“Jian… I’m scared. I can’t sleep…” came Luo Ya’s voice from the other side, tinged with tears—sounding utterly helpless.

Wang Jian rushed to the door instinctively, ready to let her in.

Of course she was scared of being alone.

But as his hand touched the doorknob, he hesitated.

He’d grown too used to helping Luo Ya without a second thought. He forced himself to calm down and peered through the peephole.

There she was—Luo Ya, crying quietly in the hallway.

Wang Jian let out a sigh of relief and unlocked the door, reaching for the handle.

As he did, his gaze drifted down.

Then he froze.

Through the gap under the door, he could see her feet. The slippers matched.

But…

There was a mole on her ankle. Luo Ya didn’t have a mole on her ankle.

But Lin Yuan’s corpse—he’d helped move it earlier—it did have a mole there!

Thump-thump!

His heart nearly stopped. He pulled his hand back, scrambling to shut the door.

But the doorknob twisted the other way.

Creaaak.

The door opened a crack.

And in that sliver of space…

A pale face with an inhuman smile peered in at him.