I Think I’m a Horror Game Villain - Chapter 88

Schedule: Monday and Friday

Chapter 88

‘Why are you reacting like this?! Since when were you this type of character?!’

Admittedly, it was a compromising situation. A woman showing up at a man’s door in the middle of the night in her nightgown, asking to be let in… it was bound to evoke certain thoughts. But I hadn’t expected Zion to be this flustered. He always seemed so narcissistic, so full of himself, that I naturally assumed he’d be confident and smooth in these kinds of situations… He was acting like a complete innocent, utterly inexperienced with women.

‘I came here to raise his affection, but I’ve only seen this unexpected side of him.’

I had two reasons for seeking out Zion.

One reason was to escape the ringing phone, a sound that seemed to stretch on indefinitely. The other was to subtly lean on Zion, hoping to raise his favorability. I planned to say something endearing, like, “You were the first person I thought of when things got scary.”

Zion finally pulled a large jacket from the closet and draped it over my shoulders. Only then did his golden eyes, fixed on the floor until that moment, meet mine. “I’m sorry. I must have startled you, showing up like this.”

“No, not at all. So, what happened?”

“Actually…” I recounted the events in my room.

“You said the phone rang?”

“Yes. Zion, didn’t your phone ring?”

“No, not at all.”

“…So, only the phone in my room rang?”

“I’ll have to ask Tommy tomorrow if he heard anything. It’s strange, though. A decorative phone with no line… ringing…”

“Right? And there’s something else.”

“What is it?”

I opened the guidebook I’d brought. “Look, it says here to ignore the phone if it rings.”

“Yes, it does.”

“Isn’t that odd? It’s a decorative phone. It shouldn’t be able to ring.”

“…Now that you mention it…”

“So, Zion, have you heard of Neapolitan ghost stories?”

“Neapolitan ghost stories?” He thought for a moment, then nodded. “I heard about them when I was at the academy. They were all the rage among the young ladies.”

“Yes, that’s it. I think this guidebook is more like a Neapolitan ghost story than actual instructions.”

Neapolitan ghost stories. A type of urban legend that vaguely describes a mysterious entity without offering any real explanation, leaving the interpretation open-ended. They often present specific rules or guidelines, like a manual, but within a surreal, mysterious context. This guidebook was just like that. Rule number two, warning about a strange entity speaking to you, and rule number seven, hinting at the impossible ringing of the decorative phone. Several other points suggested it was closer to a Neapolitan ghost story than a simple guide.

“Heh.” Zion, who had been listening intently, suddenly let out a short laugh. “Pfft…” He covered his mouth, chuckling, before erupting into full-blown laughter.

“Zion…?” Why was he laughing? Was there something funny in what I’d said?

“You’re so innocent, Heyna.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Neapolitan ghost stories are just scary stories for young girls. I never imagined you’d take this guidebook so seriously.”

“.…” I felt a prickle of annoyance. I’d trusted him, confided in him, and this was his response?

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh at you. You were just so cute, I couldn’t help myself.”

[Zion’s Favorability towards Heyna increased by 1.]

The increase in his favorability rating suggested he was telling the truth. Still, I was irritated. He saw me as a naive girl who believed in childish ghost stories. The feeling of being dismissed was deeply unpleasant. I shouldn’t have said anything. Sure, my favorability rating went up, but I wasn’t happy about it.

Perhaps sensing my shift in mood, Zion’s laughter faded, his expression turning serious. “I agree that there are similarities. I’ve thought this guidebook was suspicious from the start.” His tone was like someone soothing a child. “Heyna, if you’re really worried, why don’t you sleep in my room tonight?”

“….” I bit my lip to stop myself from scoffing.

‘Stay calm. You can’t lose the favorability points you just gained.’

“No, I’m not that scared.” I forced a smile, pretending to be unconcerned. “I’m not a child who needs company to sleep. I’m an adult. I’ll be fine. Thanks for listening. I should go now.”

“Heyna, are you upset that I laughed earlier…?”

“No, not at all. Don’t worry about it.”

“.…” Perhaps because of my high favorability rating, Zion was unusually attentive to my reactions. I didn’t care. I didn’t want to be in the same room with him a moment longer. I fled, practically running from the room.