AFM 92

As the cheering from the audience gradually subsided, it signaled the official start of the second half.

The first half had ended without either team pulling ahead, making the second round a do-or-die battle with the outcome still uncertain. A shared sense of tension permeated not only the commentators and spectators but also the players themselves.

After putting on the full-sensory equipment, Jing Mian’s eyelashes trembled slightly.

The noise was blocked out by the headphones, leaving an eerie silence around him. The boy could hear his own shallow breathing, and slowly, sinister sound effects began to seep into his ears.

His vision shifted, and the first thing that came into view was a corner of an abandoned factory.

The peeling paint on the machinery, the damp and grayish walls, rows of towering shelves stretched endlessly through the factory, so vast that standing at one end, he and his teammates could barely see the other side.

And on those shelves were countless identical-looking wooden puppets.

,”Puppet Factory.”

No player would easily forget the name of this map.

Despite being a new addition to Glory’s official lineup just two months prior, its popularity and discussion had skyrocketed, quickly climbing into the top three on the rankings.

Because in terms of creativity and horror, Puppet Factory had reached an exceptionally high standard.

“Four players accidentally stumble into an abandoned factory. The entrance mysteriously seals shut, forcing them to navigate through the shelves to find an exit on the other side. However, unbeknownst to them, these discarded, half-finished puppets are slowly turning their heads to watch them…”

[Hint 1: The puppets love playing ‘Red Light, Green Light.’ Players must hide when the music stops.]

[Hint 2: Beware of players who have turned into puppets.]

[Hint 3: The puppets love chasing the player closest to the red door.]

None of those present were new to this map. Whether they were Team players or casual gamers, most had already figured out the mechanics and the deeper meaning behind these three hints shortly after the map’s release.

Fortunately, for ME.’s members, after countless training sessions at their base, their win rate on this map was remarkably high, with very few losses.

[It’s actually Puppet Factory!!]

[Horror rating: 99.99%]

[I think the record holder for this map is Shock?]

[ME. is in danger…]

At the starting point, players from both teams gathered together, but once the match began, they would quickly scatter to evade the puppets’ pursuit.

From the moment the screen loaded until the players could control their characters, the eerie background music never stopped.

Gradually, a faint, ghostly girl’s singing voice emerged within the music, growing clearer and clearer, echoing in every player’s ears. The unsettling atmosphere of the abandoned factory became impossible to ignore.

Mole was the first to start running.

Sheep followed closely behind, but as soon as he passed the first row of shelves, he changed direction, heading down another path. The remaining two did the same.

Four different directions, not a single moment of hesitation.

Though there was no communication between them, their coordination was seamless.

[I don’t really get it.]

[Why split up?]

[Same, I don’t get it either. Normally, wouldn’t sticking together be better for haunted house maps? What if they run into monsters alone?]

[And for some reason, they seem in a hurry…]

[Cough, that’s how the Puppet Factory map is, one step too slow and it’s GG.]

[Haha, don’t rush, we’ll know once the music stops.]

…

AUB didn’t waste a single moment either. Meanwhile, Red Hair encountered an AUB player at the corner of the third row of shelves.

The two exchanged a silent glance for a second, but instead of attacking each other, they continued racing against time, sprinting toward the only exit among the shelves that wasn’t a dead end.

As the last runners of their respective teams, it seemed almost like an unspoken agreement, they had no intention of catching up to those ahead, but rather… they were doing everything they could not to be the last one.

This kind of opening, even if confusing, still had the players in the livestream holding their breath in tension.

At some point, the eerie female voice in the background music gradually softened.

—Until it stopped completely.

The factory fell into dead silence.

Red Hair stood still, pressing his keyboard, but he couldn’t move another step.

Similarly frozen in place was the AUB player Hop, just two steps behind Red Hair.

Right then.

From the shelves not far away, faint rustling vibrations suddenly began to sound.

The inexplicable tremors even reached the ground, causing the players’ screens to subtly shake.

—After the vibrations came a sudden, abrupt sound of something stepping onto the floor.

It was completely different from human footsteps. If one had to describe it, it was more like the crisp sound of wood tapping against the floor.

What was eerie and horrifying was that the sound started slow and stiff, then gradually became rhythmic, as if mimicking human walking, until it turned into a continuous sequence.

Click-clack.

Even worse, the sound wasn’t coming from just one source.

More and more things were jumping down from the shelves, chaotic and disorderly at first, until the excess noise faded and the things seemed to automatically line up, every tiny movement and step now synchronized.

[Damn… what’s happening?]

[Got goosebumps.]

[Don’t tell me those sounds are the puppets.]

[Patting the above comment, wish I could tell you they’re not.]

[Don’t get it, why aren’t the players moving? The puppets are alive, why aren’t they running?]

[Players: Thanks for asking. Guess why we’re not running, because we don’t want to?]

Among the barrage, a player tentatively analyzed:

[Could it be… because the music stopped?]

[The rules said the puppets love the game “Red Light, Green Light.” So the girl’s singing was the background music. Before it stopped, players could move freely. Once it ends, all players must freeze.]

[At the same time, it’s the puppets’ hunting time.]

[Exactly!]

The puppet at the front slowly raised its hand and pushed aside the shelf, the ones behind it copied the exact same motion.

The eerie creaking sound grew closer through the headphones, grating on the nerves.

In just thirty seconds, the slowly moving puppets reached the backs of Lens and Hop.

The expressionless puppets suddenly stretched into smiles.

Then, thick streams of blood poured from their hollow eye sockets, their fingers sharpening as if the strings controlling them had solidified into claws, before they lunged at the AUB player who had fallen the farthest behind.

A few seconds later, the system announced:

[Player “AUB.Hop” has died.]

Sheep instinctively looked up, checking his teammates’ health bars.

Even though they weren’t in last place, the recent attack seemed to have affected Red Hair as well—Lens’s health was now down to half.

When the background music started again, it signaled that players could resume their actions.

This time, a sense of danger seemed to loom from every direction. Sheep took the lead, and Mole didn’t slow down. On this map, the more teammates who could hold out until the red door appeared, the higher their chances of victory.

But when Jing Mian first encountered an AUB Team member, he realized it wasn’t the opposing captain Shock, as he had initially expected.

Instead, it was AUB’s second main force, Fall.

Sheep: “?”

No matter how you looked at it, in the decisive round of a national tournament, entrusting the fate of the entire team to the vice-captain was an extremely risky and unpredictable move, even for AUB, known for their unconventional strategies.

At this point, there was likely only one possibility as to where Shock had gone.

The Puppet Factory had a unique setting unlike other maps. In Haunted House matches, players from opposing teams couldn’t attack each other.

But the Puppet Factory broke this tradition.

When players ran a total distance of 100 meters, they would earn points. One point was just enough to exchange for a chance to turn into a puppet.

Each match allowed two transformation opportunities.

In other words, though players normally couldn’t attack each other, becoming a puppet granted them that chance.

The puppet transformation could last until the next music cue, during which players could choose to attack opponents.

But successfully blending in among the puppets tested a player’s skill and reflexes to the extreme. Not only did they have to mimic the movements and actions of other puppets within a second, but they had to do so flawlessly.

One mistake would alert the other puppets, and a second mistake would expose the player’s identity, leading to them being torn apart by the puppets.

But realizing this now was already too late.

In the next second, the girl’s chanting stopped. Sheep’s heart lurched as he instinctively turned around, only to see endless rows of shelves stretching beyond his sight.

During regular map runs, players used to enjoy turning themselves into puppets. But over time, they realized the system had made the transformation mechanic excessively difficult, requiring both speed and precision. Most players were discovered instantly, and even the best among them had only managed to last 20 seconds undetected.

Not only could they not attack other players, but they also wasted a life in vain. As a result, the more formal the competition, the fewer players dared to risk such a dangerous move that could jeopardize the entire team.

Shock lowered his gaze as he heard the creaking of the previously motionless puppets not far behind him.

He looked down at his hands, the spaces between his fingers were merging, solidifying bit by bit, like dried-up syrup after melting, gradually taking on the appearance of a puppet.

Without hesitation, Shock walked straight to the front of the puppet line.

Though the fear behind him seemed to press closer layer by layer, Shock appeared utterly unfazed as he adjusted his stance, switching to the player’s frontal perspective.

When the puppets began to move, every spectator held their breath for the man.

After becoming a puppet, if one walks at the forefront, they can subtly guide the direction. Such an operation is undoubtedly formidable, but requiring at least four keystrokes per second not only tests hand speed but also demands flawless reaction and judgment from the players, there’s absolutely no room for error.

Under seemingly impossible conditions, Shock actually succeeded in making the puppet move, and the direction he was heading seemed to be the hiding spot of the ME members.

[Damn, that’s insane.]

[…Words can’t describe how shocked I am.]

[I knew Shock was amazing, but not to this extent.]

[Is that even human hand speed?]

[Shock, my eternal god.]

[Hey, is there even a point in continuing? ME’s defeat is pretty much set, right?]

Red Hair, who was at the rear of ME, became the first casualty after Shock turned into a puppet.

Soon, the music started again.

All players regained their freedom.

Sheep, who was at the very front of the map, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Fall, who had been chasing Sheep’s footsteps from a few meters away, saw the boy halt abruptly, his expression freezing unconsciously.

The next second, Sheep suddenly lifted his leg and kicked over the shelf in front of them.

The shelf toppled instantly, creating a loud crashing noise. The screen filled with thick dust, and Fall, who was forced to stop and stared blankly at the scene.

Fall: “???”

Sheep glanced at him, brushed past the man’s shoulder, and sprinted back the way he came.

Fall looked at the only path ahead, now completely blocked. Once sealed off, they’d have to take a huge detour, instantly erasing any lead they had over the other team members and resetting the advantage.

On AUB’s side, vice-captain Fall, wearing his Holographic Glasses, cursed under his breath.

Then he turned and followed.

Sheep didn’t dare stop for even a second. He had to find Mole and Sleepy and escape into AUB’s member route before Shock chose to turn into a puppet again.

Otherwise, all three of them would become Shock’s prey.

With Shock still having one more transformation opportunity, the overwhelming gap made Jing Mian realize they couldn’t afford to lose any more members, their chances were dwindling fast.

Soon,

Sheep found Mole running toward him between the sixth row of shelves.

Just as the two were about to meet, Sheep suddenly stopped.

As their eyes met, a sense of foreboding rose between them.

Sure enough, at some point,

the girl’s eerie chanting gradually ceased.

The players were once again rendered immobile.

The familiar clack-clack of puppet footsteps echoed, uniform and sinister, drawing closer and closer to them.

Even with the shelves blocking the view, Sheep could faintly sense Shock and the puppets’ positions, making it painfully clear that Shock was heading straight for them.

When Shock appeared before the two, he did so in puppet form, stepping past the last row of shelves.

The man raised his arm in a stiff motion, the faint glimmer of strings adding to the overwhelming pressure and terror.

Jing Mian’s heart raced to its limit. Mole was closer to Shock and would be attacked first.

Wearing the Holographic Glasses, Jing Mian couldn’t see Mole’s expression.

At the same time, he couldn’t determine whether this was a coincidence or Shock’s deliberate arrangement.

Shock looked down at them. The puppet’s gaping mouth was a system setting, but when projected onto the man, it seemed to evoke his own monarch-like demeanor with a hint of amusement.

Half a minute later.

The system issued a notification:

[Player “ME.Mole” has died.]

The audience erupted in shocked exclamations.

Mole and Red Hair’s health bars simultaneously dropped to zero, turning gray on the mini-map to signify death.

Sheep looked at the remaining two character slots. His own health bar displayed “36/100″—clearly, Shock’s attack on Mole had affected him too. A red haze had begun to blur the edges of his vision, his breathing grew labored, and his movement speed had slowed significantly.

Sweat beaded on the young man’s forehead.

Shock had used up both of his chances for the match and could no longer become a puppet for the remaining duration.

The numbers stood at three against two, leaving ME. at an absolute disadvantage.

Even when the fourth round’s music stopped and AUB’s second member was eliminated, balancing the numbers, Sheep’s dwindling health wouldn’t allow him to outmaneuver the opposing captain and vice-captain.

Then, as the fifth round’s music ceased, the next casualty became Jing Mian’s last remaining teammate, Sleepy.

Now, it was two against one.

Fewer players also meant the red door’s appearance drew nearer.

[This is too hopeless.]

[My heart aches for the little one.]

[Sheep did his best—even tried to buy time by kicking over shelves.]

[At this point, the battle feels tragic yet heroic, but the outcome is decided. ME. can try again next year.]

[Sigh, I really wanted to see MianMian lift the trophy.]

[Shock is a god. No matter how hard ordinary people try, they can’t compete at his level.]

[That’s too harsh, isn’t it?]

[Sheep isn’t ordinary. A rookie making it all the way to the national finals, even if he loses, it’s no shame. The kid has a bright future ahead.]

…

The girl’s ethereal singing grew faint, gradually fading away.

Then, abruptly, a prompt appeared on the screen:

[Your points have reached the threshold. Do you wish to become a puppet?]

[Yes] or [No]

The same prompt appeared before AUB’s vice-captain, Fall.

Fall gripped his mouse. Time was running out, and with their advantage in the match, he didn’t hesitate to select the latter.

Sheep: [Yes]

All players: !!!!!!

…

What a dramatic turn of events!

After Shock, this was the second player in national tournament history to dare choose to become a puppet on the Puppet Factory map!

The chat exploded, reaching its second peak of frenzy since Shock’s godlike plays earlier in the finals, nearly boiling over.

[My whole family is shook.]

[Sheep has lost his mind.]

[This guy knows how to boost ratings. My hands and feet went cold in an instant, haha, this finals is too intense.]

[Admirable courage.]

[Completely unnecessary. Just a desperate, last-ditch move.]

[No one can replicate Shock’s plays. Does this rookie really think winning a couple of matches puts him on par with past national champions?]

[To put it bluntly, it’s just a poor imitation.]

【With Sheep’s face that couldn’t stand the light, this idiom was truly tailor-made for him】

【Knowing ME. would lose, it felt quite heroic earlier, but no one expected such an undignified defeat】

Cen Xian’s pupils trembled as he glanced sideways at Jing Mian: “MianMian…”

The young man wearing the VR headset remained silent, his expression unreadable. His lean figure filled out the esports jersey, the ME team emblem emblazoned across his chest.

ME’s newly hired veteran coach shook his head and slumped back into his chair. He buried his face in his hands, looking utterly despondent and helpless.

The live broadcast even zoomed in for a close-up of the coach.

As the music stopped, a transformation began on Sheep’s character.

In Jing Mian’s view, his hands and feet started becoming smooth, merging with his clothing. Transparent threads extended from his fingers, and his once clear central vision became tinged with blood red, just like the puppets, he seemed to be bleeding crimson.

Mole had said that with precise control, he could even command the puppets to hunt down fleeing enemies, switching from prey to hunter.

But he only had two chances to fail.

Jing Mian didn’t fully understand how these chances would manifest, but having made his choice, there was no turning back, failure wasn’t an option.

The fate of ME. rested entirely on this young man’s shoulders.

Jing Mian quietly adjusted his perspective.

Observing the puppets behind him, his fingers hovered over the keyboard. In an instant, he made his decision and pressed the keys.

Every keystroke seemed to resonate with the audience’s pounding hearts, pulling at their taut nerves.

The young man held his breath slightly, his heartbeat steadying.

The world through his headphones grew silent, leaving only the sound of his own calm breathing.

Guided by memory, he moved toward where Fall had fled.

The puppets followed Sheep in perfect unison, as if the puppet leading them was their divine creator.

At the third corner, Sheep caught sight of Fall trapped in place. The momentary distraction caused Jing Mian’s ring finger to tremble, delaying his press of the “W” key by a fraction.

“Hiss—!”

All the puppets froze.

They turned their heads in unison, their blood-red eyes locking onto Sheep. Their necks craned forward, their hollow noses sniffing for the scent of a human.

【I’m scared to death ahhhh】

【Watching this livestream, I spilled my noodles everywhere】

【Squirming in my blanket like a worm】

【Is everyone too shocked to speak?】

【Then I’ll say it, Sheep actually lasted this long!】

【Yeah, this god-tier playstyle is unmatched in Glory, did MianMian actually pull it off!?】

【Wuwuwu, all those haters earlier must be eating their words now】

【Damn, I’m both nervous and hyped】

【Sheep, you’re my god】

【This is incredible】

【Now this is what a finals match should be】

…

Sheep didn’t move a muscle.

He let the puppets mechanically and obsessively search for his scent, but after a few seconds, they found nothing.

Disappointed, they withdrew and returned to their original positions.

So this was the first chance.

From this moment onward, he had no room for error.

Sheep continued adjusting his perspective, fully focused on following the rhythm as his fingertips landed on the keyboard. In just five or six seconds, he arrived before the human hiding at the end of the shelf.

Though Fall couldn’t move, he could imagine the player now locking eyes with him. His fingers trembled as he glimpsed death looming.

Sheep raised his finger.

Without hesitation, he took his life.

The system issued a cold notification: [Player “AUB.Fall” has died.]

As the background music resumed, Jing Mian transformed from a puppet back into a human.

Now, only he and Shock remained, which meant the red door would appear soon.

If he were Shock, he would use this limited time to sprint toward the other side of the factory. After all, with only 36% of his health left, his mobility and speed were far inferior to Shock’s. If he could leave just before the door appeared, AUB would undoubtedly secure victory.

But there were too many variables during this time.

For instance, he still had one last chance to turn into a puppet.

Would Shock really disregard whether his enemy posed a potential threat—even if being caught meant instant death, and still choose to flee toward the red door despite the risks?

…

No.

Jing Mian thought that even if he didn’t know Shock well, a champion wouldn’t expose his back to an enemy of unknown threat level.

If he were Shock…

He would find a hiding spot that wasn’t too far from the door, minimizing damage while keeping an escape route open.

Jing Mian began sprinting.

Even though it drained his health, he didn’t stop. Relying on memory, he navigated the complex terrain of shelves and reached a section of abandoned mesh fencing. He pressed a key, breaking a corner of it.

Next, he moved to a stack of cardboard boxes piled against the wall. Jing Mian silently shifted a row of them. Puppets moved clumsily, and the fuller the stacks, the more they obscured vision in the blood-red haze, making it harder to kill humans.

After completing these actions, Jing Mian checked his health bar—

24/100.

He retraced his steps to where Fall’s corpse lay, now surrounded by a row of motionless puppets.

Fifteen seconds later, the girl’s chant ceased for the final time.

When prompted by the system, Sheep chose: [yes (become a puppet)].

The interval was too short, the red door failed to appear.

This meant Shock hadn’t escaped the factory.

Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. At this moment, Sheep had three choices.

The shortest route led straight to the red door. If Shock was confident Sheep couldn’t catch up and hadn’t hidden, he could deliver a fatal blow.

The other two routes assumed Shock was hiding behind the cardboard boxes or the mesh fencing. With these makeshift safe zones, the man could wait at full health while Sheep returned empty-handed, then make a break for the red door.

Jing Mian pressed his lips together, his throat dry.

He had no time to deliberate, just maintaining his focus on the controls already consumed all his mental energy.

But one wrong move, and everything he’d fought for would be lost.

His teammates stayed silent, not wanting to disrupt the boy’s judgment.

—He had to make this decision himself.

The boy’s lashes cast fragmented shadows as his narrowed pupils slowly fixed on one direction.

Sheep led the puppets forward without hesitation.

The route was already etched in his mind. Without wasting a second, he passed the left shelf and stopped at the fourth turn.

The puppets behind him halted in unison.

Sheep lowered his gaze, his eyes tinged with blood that dripped onto his porcelain-white face. Through the mesh, he locked eyes with Shock in silence.

The next second, the leading puppet raised its hand, pulling the thin strings.

As the strings descended, they carried a wind sound that made one’s heart tremble.

…

[What’s going on? Shock’s health bar is actually dropping?!]

[Isn’t the place he’s hiding in a safe zone?]

[The person above must have just entered the livestream. Just now, Sheep destroyed the only two safe zones.]

[How did he even predict that Shock would hide here?]

[As expected of a top-tier match. If it were me, I would’ve already dashed for the red door together—turning back is impossible.]

[This is too exciting, too thrilling!]

[That prediction was insane.]

[Sheep is amazing!!]

[Ahhhh!!!]

[This can be included in the national tournament’s top ten replays.]

Sheep stopped attacking when he noticed Shock’s health bar was no longer decreasing.

Jing Mian froze. He stared at Shock’s health value stuck at “8/100,” his pupils reflecting shock and disbelief.

Logically, his attack after turning into a puppet should have been a guaranteed one-hit kill.

In fact, the moment Sheep made his move, Red Hair had already been unable to contain his excitement, ready to raise his hands in celebration of victory.

But then,

when everyone saw Shock’s health bar stop at 8%, the room fell into dead silence.

…What was going on?

Although during ME’s earlier map runs, some had experimentally destroyed safe zones before, no matter how many times they tried, once a safe zone was destroyed, the player hiding inside would be no different from being exposed in the open.

It could even be said to be a guaranteed death.

Could successfully disguising as a puppet reinforce a player’s health bar?

But before this, no player had ever succeeded in disguising as a puppet, so no one could judge or trace the reason at this moment.

This question was likely only answerable by Glory’s internal developers or Shock himself.

A few seconds later, the background music resumed.

But at the same time, an alarm blared in Sheep’s mind.

Because the system issued a prompt at that moment:

[The red door has appeared! All surviving players, please proceed to the safe location immediately!]

[The red door has appeared! All surviving players, please proceed to the safe location!!]

The young man swiftly turned and sprinted toward the red door.

Shock didn’t move.

He watched the direction Sheep had left in, even letting go of his keyboard.

With only 8% health left, whether in speed or stamina, he could no longer catch up to Sheep.

But the third rule could.

,[Puppets love chasing the player closest to the red door.]

Now, success or failure lay entirely in Sheep’s own hands.

Sheep didn’t look back, running with all his might.

Every stretch of the dimly lit path pulled at his limbs, driving him toward the light.

Gradually, he heard tremors rising behind him.

More intense and widespread than before, Jing Mian noticed the shelves around him creaking and shaking violently, countless half-finished puppets forced to tumble down. The entire abandoned factory descended into chaos, as if preparing for the earth-shattering spectacle about to unfold.

Sheep didn’t look back, but all the players and spectators saw it.

The scattered puppets on the ground did not stop trembling. Instead, they began moving toward a certain direction, gradually gathering in one place. From the gathering spot came eerie sounds of assembly, creaking and grating.

Under the astonished gazes of the players, countless puppets merged into a towering giant, also in the form of a puppet.

Only, its size was terrifyingly massive.

The spine-chilling sounds intensified, growing even more sinister.

The giant puppet slowly stretched its lips into a horrifying grin, its eye sockets pooling with fresh blood.

Despite it not being the time for the music to stop, the puppet could freely hunt.

Because it had made a sound.

Humming a haunting, fragmented melody, the puppet took its first step. Countless smaller puppets shook loose and fell to the ground, yet the giant puppet seemed oblivious as it strode toward the player closest to the red door—Sheep.

Each step made the ground tremble.

A toppled shelf crashed onto the human. Sheep fell heavily, blood streaming down his forehead.

Without pause, the human scrambled up and continued running, never looking back.

The colossal puppet transitioned from a leisurely walk to quickened strides.

Then, it broke into a run.

The distance between puppet and player was closing!

But at the same time, Sheep was nearing the door.

Blood loss had blurred Sheep’s vision, leaving only a faint glimmer of light visible, hazy and indistinct.

He had reached the end, where no obstacles remained. Only a few steps separated him from the door.

Every heart was clenched in suspense.

Red Hair held his breath, pressing a fist to his lips to stifle his rapid gasps.

Cen Xian gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white.

—Finally, Sheep reached the threshold of the red door.

The radiance from within encircled the boy’s eyes, brightening his entire gaze.

Just as he was about to take another step, a dull thud suddenly echoed.

A wet, piercing sound.

Solid and precise.

Under the bewildered stares of the onlookers, the game’s perspective gradually lowered.

—One of Sheep’s calves had been impaled by the puppet’s spike.

This forced the boy to kneel on one knee. He tried to push forward but found himself utterly immobilized.

The next moment, a powerful force yanked the player back into the abyss, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

Sheep lifted his head, his gaze now fixed unwaveringly ahead.

The faint glow from beyond the door illuminated his blood-streaked face.

Sheep stared outward, as though beholding the dream he had always chased.

He was but one step away,

from his dream.