Chapter 363: A Worker for the Workers

The game room door slid open slowly, and a smell mixed with sweat surged out.

The first to emerge was the girl who had been holding an electronic cigarette earlier; her silver-dyed hair was now messy and plastered to her forehead.

Her eyes, originally painted with smoky makeup, were wide open, their pupils not yet recovered from extreme constriction.

She stumbled two steps while holding onto the doorframe, her knees clearly trembling, but upon noticing Lex watching her, she forced her spine straight, tugged at the corner of her mouth, and said:

"It was okay... just like that."

As soon as the words left her lips, she instinctively swallowed, as if forcing down the churning in her stomach.

The boy in ripped jeans followed closely behind, veins bulging on the back of his hand, his right hand tightly gripping the safety bar.

He stumbled while stepping over the game room threshold, nearly crashing into the metal rack beside him.

"The special effects were... quite real, good experience."

In front of his friends, he mumbled indistinctly, yet his gaze involuntarily darted toward the game room, as if afraid something might suddenly leap out, before he feigned calmness and added:

"It's just that the sound effects were too loud."

It was just that his voice clearly carried a tremor when he spoke.

The last boy to emerge was the most disheveled; the back of his white T-shirt was soaked through a large patch, as if he had just been fished out of water.

He didn't say a single word, merely leaning against the wall to gasp for breath, his Iron Face as pale as if covered by a layer of paper.

His eyes were still somewhat unfocused, seemingly still immersed in the terrifying scene.

As if remembering something, the next second his legs went so soft they could barely support his body; he wanted to squat down, but was nudged in the ribs by his companion's elbow.

His gaze shifted at that moment to the two friends watching him, whereupon he abruptly straightened his waist, stuck out his neck, and declared:

"Nice experience, quite interesting."

After speaking, he secretly shuffled half a step sideways, using his companion's body to shield his wobbling legs.

Lex stood behind the control console, watching the screen where the newly refreshed Scare Value profit +36 appeared, the corners of his mouth unable to suppress their upward curve.

He cleared his throat lightly and pointed to the payment terminal nearby:

"You three, the total for this experience is 180 Star Points; just scan it at the terminal."

The boy in cargo pants seemed to only just remember this detail; he reached for his pocket, fumbled around inside for a long while before pulling out his personal terminal, muttered "What's the rush?" under his breath, yet dared not meet Lex's gaze.

He then swept it across the payment receiver; hearing only a "beep" of payment confirmation, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and dragged his companions toward the exit.

Lex deliberately pretended not to notice their embarrassment and asked with a smile:

"Are you gentlemen satisfied? Would you like to try another scenario?"

"No, no." The leading boy waved his hands as he backed away:

"Next time... we'll come next time."

Immediately after, the three of them almost simultaneously turned around and hurried toward the door, none daring to look back.

Upon reaching the doorway, the boy in the white T-shirt's legs gave way, and he nearly tripped on the step, only barely steadied by his companions holding his arms.

After the door slammed shut with a "bang," Lex turned his head to look at the screen.

Thirty-six points of Scare Value couldn't buy any goods, but he was extremely satisfied with the results of this preliminary test.

He believed it wouldn't be long before the screams in this city surged like a Black Tide, paving a path to the extraordinary for him.

To attract more guests to take on the challenge, he decided to first set up a challenge ranking via the local area network.

With the idea formed, Lex acted immediately, his fingers striking rapidly across the control console.

A new document popped up on the screen, its title typed by him as [Brave Hero Leaderboard].

The ranking he intended to create was not about who cleared the level fastest.

That was too ordinary and wouldn't allow him to squeeze out more Scare Value.

Since there were surveillance cameras in the game, he decided to observe the visitors' states through the monitors.

The acquisition of Courage Value could be calculated based on factors such as the duration players stayed in the scenario and the dangers they triggered.

For instance, facing a monster directly for a certain number of seconds in the scenario could yield a specific amount of Courage Value.

The more Courage Value one accumulated, the higher their ranking.

This setting was designed to poke at the competitive spirit of contemporary young people.

Secondly, he could also establish some reward mechanisms.

For example, the top ten on the weekly Courage Leaderboard could receive cash rewards.

Their names could also be displayed in the most conspicuous position in the venue, followed by a line of small text: The Most Gutsy Warriors in Neon Harbor.

To enhance immersion, he also planned to bury several more surveillance cameras in the game room to automatically capture players' instant reactions when facing terror.

When the rankings updated, he would select a few "highlight moments" to post on the board, of course blurring them to protect privacy.

What he wanted was to make them compete against each other.

Lex stared at the draft on the screen, smiling like a fox that had stolen a chicken.

He understood the young people of Neon Harbor all too well.

They would rather force themselves to stand while trembling than endure being called "cowards."

Even if it meant spending Star Points to challenge repeatedly, they would have to move their names a bit closer to the top of the list.

The essence of this leaderboard was a cage built from vanity and competitiveness.

Once they crawled inside, they would willingly contribute wave after wave of Scare Value to him.

He could even create a team experience Cultivation Mode, for example, groups of five, and compile a team leaderboard based on their performance.

But the most important factor remained the realism of the scenario experience.

The Nightmare System offered an experience indistinguishable from reality, bringing a thrill that drugs could never match.

That immersive sense of horror, even when knowing it was all fake, would still make one's whole body tremble.

The brain could rationally tell itself that this was merely a virtual experience, those bloody monsters and the whispers echoing in the ears... were all fake.

But the body would betray reason, causing the heart to accelerate uncontrollably.

This was the most terrifying aspect of the Nightmare System.

The scenarios it generated were so real they could bypass logical thinking and directly stimulate the most primal instincts.

Just like standing at the edge of a cliff, even if the railing was sturdy and reliable, one's knees would still go soft when looking down.

Before the survival instinct, reason was fragile and utterly defenseless.

But after the experience ended and the challengers safely returned to reality, that sense of exhaustion from surviving a disaster would instead make them feel intense joy and stimulation.

This feeling might perhaps make people addicted.

Adrenaline soaring, dopamine rebounding, endorphins relieving pain... this process from extreme tension to sudden relaxation was like riding a roller coaster.

He continuously refined the draft content, then opened the local area network forum and saved the drafted material there.

Next, he prepared to receive a few more waves of visitors and then wait for word-of-mouth to spread.

As long as players who had experienced it went back and told their friends about their encounters, more and more challengers would come attracted by its reputation.

By that time, the early-stage hype would truly be ignited.

Apart from customers, even those competitors running similar venues would likely be unable to resist sending people to scout the situation and experience it themselves.

The only problem was how to explain this technology.

The realism of the Nightmare Scenarios clearly surpassed any existing technology, making it difficult for him to provide a reasonable explanation.

But this was a problem he fundamentally did not need to respond to at all.

This sense of mystery was itself one of the selling points.

The next day, Lex made a new signboard for the venue, replacing the original "Phantom Dream."

The new signboard used blue-purple neon tubes to outline the five characters "Nightmare Experience Hall," with the edges of the font deliberately designed to be serrated, as if gnawed by something.

He also added a line of small text below the sign: Warriors dare to Iron Face fear directly.

The provocative tone between the lines was ten times more direct than the previous billboard.

On the second day after changing the signboard, the first to arrive were several youths with green-dyed hair, bruises from underground fighting arenas still visible on their arms.

They were most likely attracted by the discussion topics posted on the forum, or perhaps recommended by the three players from before.

As soon as they entered, they shouted:

"Turn on your fiercest scenario; we brothers just want to test today whether it's as scary as you boast."

For guests who came voluntarily, Lex naturally welcomed them warmly, smiling as he opened Horror Scenario No. 4 for them.

In less than half an hour, the game room door was opened again; the green-haired youths rushed out with pale faces, one of them even vomiting in the corridor.

Glancing at the Scare Value profit on the monitor, Lex beamed with joy.

In the following days, news regarding the Nightmare Experience Hall spread like it had grown wings among the young circles of Neon Harbor.

Some came with a skeptical mindset to challenge, only to be so frightened by the "Me in the Mirror" scenario that they dared not look in a mirror for several days.

Some brought their girlfriends to show off, only for the girl to end up dragging the terrified, paralyzed boy out of the game room.

There were even small groups who specifically formed teams to farm the rankings; to fight for the top spot, they argued incessantly with other teams on the forum, even arranging offline showdowns, asking Lex to act as referee and settle the competition based on the Courage Value points in the rules.

On the local area network forum, threads about the "Nightmare Experience Hall" quickly grew to ten thousand layers.

Some analyzed the calculation patterns of Courage Value, some shared their thoughts during the experience... but the most lively discussions still revolved around the highlight moments.

On the real-time updated leaderboard, those blurred moments of disarray always sparked heated debate.

Some were so scared they crouched down covering their heads, some tried to force themselves forward but their legs went soft like noodles, and others threw punches at empty air... Lex's business was so good he needed to hire temporary staff to handle collections and cleaning.

As for him, he only needed to watch the Scare Value numbers constantly jumping on the backend every day, starting from a few dozen points, then to several thousand, then to over ten thousand, smiling until his mouth couldn't close.

The scenario space, due to being overly popular, had also undergone expansion using Scare Value and could now simultaneously accommodate hundreds of people for offline experiences.