Doomsday Wonderland Vol. 12: New Game Launch [Complete]

1417: The Believer that Never Was

The character Elizabeth seemed to act like a dam.

Even as her surging emotions threatened to overwhelm her like a tsunami, the dam held steadfastly, allowing only a shallow pool of emotion to reach the surface. Hence, regardless of how intense her inner feelings were, Elizabeth shook her head gently and said, "I was quite fond of it..."

The life or death of a potted plant did not stir much emotion among the others. None of the neighbors paid much attention to the catmint. Instead, they surrounded the pot and saw the dead baby inside it. Amidst the soft gasps, they all turned their heads—their gazes landed simultaneously on Barbeque Brow in the living room.

Barbeque Brow hung her head low, seemingly oblivious to their stares, her gaze fixed intently on a booklet in her hands. It was a familiar booklet to all of them—the character manuals they each carried.

The middle-aged woman playing Barbeque Brow clenched the character manual, distorting its shape. Raising her eyes, her usually calm features seemed tense, her lips quivering slightly, "I failed. Because of this damned meddling woman, my mission failed."

'The game hasn't reached its 30th day,' Elizabeth thought, 'but the mission has already failed, which means—'

Suddenly, the apartment door was forcefully shut, slamming right before them and startling several of the residents who stepped back. The door was firmly closed, cutting off the light, noise, and the person inside.

Following that, the curtains were abruptly pulled across the windows, plunging the room into darkness. Within a split second, Apartment No. 1 seemed untouched by time, swallowed by the building in its eerie silence.

Was the middle-aged woman going to wait with them in the darkness behind the door until the game ended in 30 days?

The thought sent shivers down Elizabeth's spine.

The more pressing issue was, did a player who had failed their mission still count as a target in their strategy?

"It seems the game has turned this apartment into a storage room," someone said. "Let's go."

The dead baby still lay in the pot. Before leaving, they glanced at it. Finally, Jessica asked, "Did you really predict all of this? Or did you just happen to see something?"

Elizabeth, who had been pondering how to carry the catmint back upstairs—even though it was dead, she couldn't bear to leave it alone outside—was brought back to the present by the question. She slowly nodded in affirmation.

"I know you don't believe in my abilities, but that's okay. But think about it carefully; I spent most of this afternoon with all of you. I saw what you saw."

The group exchanged glances, silent.

Ms. Chen hesitantly added, "Before we entered apartment no. 4, she already knew there was bloodshed inside. During the time the murder occurred, she was in her room. My apartment ceiling is thin; I can vaguely hear footsteps."

"Not only was I in my room, but I also faced a ghost inside," Elizabeth said.

Recalling the doll with the red shoes, she clenched her fists. She had wanted to confide in the catmint. Even if the catmint wouldn't respond, at least it would have calmed her. Now the catmint was gone, while that doll might still be waiting for her in her apartment.

"Ghosts..." Jessica and Mr. Grant exchanged a look.

"This building is haunted. Maybe the ghost has corrupted people's hearts and instigated murderous intent, resulting in so many deaths," Elizabeth said, trying to muster up some energy for her goal. "It might have sensed my plans to exorcise it. That's why it attacked me."