I Became A Ghost In A Horror Game-Chapter 101: Red Riding Hood – Where the Forest Grows Thick

Troyes, France.

Indeed, the medieval-scented buildings and iconic statues made it easier to understand why travelers from abroad would take so many photos to the point of excess.

I hadn’t left a trace online since elementary school, but maybe this was the perfect chance to start again?

With that thought, I stepped lightly through the wide streets—so much more spacious than the crowded cityscape of Korea.

Between the old-fashioned buildings were countless beautiful cafés, and the promotional boards depicting sweet-looking foods kept stealing my attention.

I even picked up a slightly torn flyer for a classical music concert rolling along the ground and slipped it into the mirror.

"Somehow... I feel excited. It’s not like I’m here to relax, but it doesn’t feel bad."

I took a deep breath, savoring the unfamiliar air.

"Still... it would've been nicer if the scent in the air was of freshly baked bread instead of this damp forest smell."

I had hoped to enjoy a sugar-loaded coffee while nibbling on French bread, but unfortunately, none of the shops here were open.

That’s because the buildings were overrun by trees that had sprouted through them like thorns.

So overgrown, in fact, that neither sun nor moon could pierce through. You could barely tell if it was day or night.

The power to transform a region into a forest.

There was no doubt it was the work of Red Riding Hood’s Demon.

This entity had done something similar before—creating tens of thousands of wolves and currently putting the Organization in deep trouble.

Still, perhaps because it hadn’t expanded aggressively beyond this point, the Organization seemed to be holding off on a missile strike (Difficulty Level for Restraint: Lv. 99).

But if left alone, it would endlessly increase the number of wolves. Make no mistake, this entity was extremely dangerous.

"Somehow, the Story’s Demons might be more of a pain than the Dominators..."

Sigh.

I let out a heavy sigh and pulled out a handheld mirror.

Like the Queen in Snow White, I caressed the surface of the mirror and summoned a being.

“Alright, it’s been a while. Doesn’t it feel nice to see the outside world again?”

“Let me out!!! Sis, what did I do that was so wrong?! I just liked streaming, that’s all!”

Oh, dear gray matter readers of my mind—do you remember this 2D graphic girl?

This one was Lost, a VTuber Monster, one of the anomalous entities.

I had nearly forgotten about her myself, but I recalled she might have information I needed, which is why I summoned her now.

"Shut it. Be grateful I let you out even for a moment since you didn’t commit any major sins."

I responded to Lost with a sneer.

No special reason. I just tend to treat fear-based beings that aren’t part of my own domain this way.

“Let’s get straight to the point... You once said you could play games that were deleted ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ or erased, right?”

Lost had the ability to play games that had been left incomplete due to halted development.

Even games that had been deleted from existence—she could still access and play them.

Her channel still held records of those streams on YouTube.

Though now, most of her subscribers were Organization personnel, and civilians no longer had access to the account.

“Yes... that’s true. But the games created by that developer—M.P., the one Alice mentioned—can’t be played.”

“But you can extract files from them, right?”

At that, Lost muttered something like, “These games give me a bad feeling...”

But under my stare, she reluctantly began pulling out the extracted files and showing them to me.

The first game was, of course, the one I had twisted, shattered, and escaped from.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried digging through the files when I played it before.

But I was hoping something unique might show up this time.

The extracted files stored images in JPG format: backgrounds, characters...

I saw images of Ha-rim and her friends, the backgrounds, the bosses, the horrors, James, and Sister Maria.

And then—

...No way. Even Alice's image was stored here?

That was unexpected.

Back when I tore through the game files, there was nothing like this.

Now it felt like my transformation into this form had been predetermined.

So then what’s real?

Is this place reality, or am I still inside a game? That ambiguity never leaves me.

The grave of my senior still existed where I remembered it.

That meant the reality I came from had to be real. But then what about the existence of horrors and anomalous entities? There was no explanation for them.

Am I still dreaming?

Will everything I believed to be real end up just being part of a game, with me forced to watch the most meaningless credits roll in the world?

Trying to calm my chaotic mind, I kept combing through the files.

But there wasn’t much I could uncover.

“...Not much progress, but it’s not like I got nothing. Let’s move on.”

The next game Lost showed me was a war game.

The one Peter Pan had entered, twisted, and escaped from.

Despite being “just a game,” it conveyed the horrors of war so brutally that the image files could rival even the darkest horror games.

Honestly, it was amazing Peter Pan managed to survive in there.

I could finally understand why he was so obsessed with the safety of his fence.

As usual, I started by checking the image files.

They featured several characters, but since I hadn’t played the game myself, I couldn’t determine who they were or how they affected Peter Pan.

There was one character named Wendy that caught my attention, but I didn’t know enough for that to mean anything.

...Strangely, there were no image files of Peter Pan.

Why not?

Perplexed, I kept digging through the files and moved on to the next games.

Jack’s plant-growing game, Ariel’s rhythm game, and Pinocchio’s crafting game.

My impressions after checking those were similar to what I felt with the war game.

Even though I could see the image files and interface, I couldn’t extract meaningful info like backstories or abilities from them.

Things rarely go smoothly.

They never do for me, which is the real problem!

Still, it’s better to look than not, so I was now down to just two games shrouded in mystery.

The reason I summoned Lost in the first place—and the management simulation believed to belong to Red Riding Hood’s game.

I extracted the image files from that one first.

The images included the signature interfaces of a livestock farm hidden deep in the forest, and as expected of a simulation game, it contained various animals as assets.

A kindly-looking old woman, a man dressed like a hunter, and a wolf that appeared to be an obstacle to the game’s management.

It looked just like a normal game. It was hard to extract any meaningful clues.

But—I did find something that stood out.

Each animal, even if they looked identical, had a different name saved for them in the files.

Had the player manually named each one?

Or was it just an inefficient saving method coded into the game?

“If this strange detail turns out to be a clue, that would be nice...”

Finally, I reached the last game file.

Its name wasn’t even known—adding to the mystery.

With a strange sense of excitement, I opened the image files.

As expected of an RPG, I saw familiar things like the status window and HP bar.

Usually, RPGs conjure up fantasies of swords and magic, but this one seemed to have a modern-day setting.

Except... the majority of the images featured crumbling buildings, like a storm had ravaged everything.

And even the ones that were still “intact” were twisted and mutated beyond recognition.

“Is this one set in some kind of apocalypse?”

Intrigued by the bizarre design—strange even for an RPG—I kept scrolling through the images.

When I got to the monster section, I noticed something odd.

“There are... way too many monsters, aren’t there?”

Despite the pixel graphics, the sheer number of monsters was overwhelming.

The image files alone probably took up terabytes of space.

No matter how much I scrolled, it never ended, so I skipped ahead.

After scanning the absurd quantity of images with my motion-tracking eyes, one realization struck me.

Why weren’t there any human images?

There were monsters that looked human, sure, but not a single image of an actual human character.

Does this game not have any human NPCs?

Depending on the genre, that’s possible—but I couldn’t shake the unease it left behind.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

"Damn, this monster data just never ends..."

Even when I dissected my own game, not all the horrors I’d encountered were present in the files.

In other words, some information was omitted from the game data.

And if this much was omitted, it wouldn't be enough even if you summoned monsters from across the entire globe.

"Huh?"

As I scrolled all the way to the bottom, the very last image caught my eye.

It had an oval, egg-like shape at first glance, but that was only its silhouette—in truth, it looked more like a lump of raw meat mashed together.

The moment I narrowed my eyes to inspect it more closely, the image vanished.

As if it were alive.

Because of that, I only caught a glimpse of its filename—a fragment. I think the first letter was "O"...

"Uuueeeeeh—!"

"What the hell?! What's wrong?!"

Out of nowhere, Lost began to vomit.

She’s a 2D digital character, and she still puked.

"I’m sorry... It felt like something forced its way out through my mouth..."

Something that escaped through her mouth... So it was the thing that had been hiding inside the file.

Its identity remains unknown.

A brand-new mystery just popped up.

Also, something else was bothering me—the lack of visual data for the Story’s Demons in the other game files.

Why is it that the more I try to uncover, the more questions keep piling up?

It’s completely unreasonable.

"...Haaah."

"Sis! I gave you what you wanted, so... can I go back to streaming now, if you’d just let me ou—"

“No.”

I cut Lost off mid-sentence and immediately sealed her back into the mirror.

Where does a non-vassal creature get off asking to be let out? Absolutely absurd.

“Is your investigation proceeding smoothly?”

A voice came from the phone tucked in my pocket.

It was Carol.

“No problem. But you sent me alone this time, huh? You used to always assign someone to monitor me.”

“The phenomenon of humans turning into wolves... It’s the most troublesome issue in that area. Of course, it’s not instant—there seems to be a delay depending on the person. But still, sending people there is far too dangerous.”

Given that, it wasn’t exactly an unreasonable decision.

Red Riding Hood turns people into wolves.

The reason for that is something I’ll have to ask her myself, but... if she’s degrading humans into voiceless beasts just for her own gain—

Then she’ll have to pay the price.

“With things like this, Alice probably won’t want to bring the children over.”

Carol said that softly, as if trying to comfort me in case I’d be disappointed.

I answered her.

“...But it’s fine. The kids can still stay with me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll make it okay.”

I said it with confidence, and Carol went quiet for a while.

Then, in a quiet voice, she said:

“You’re growing up, Alice.”

When I asked what she meant, she brushed it off with a compliment and ended the call by saying to contact her if I needed help.

Hmm. Is that what people say when someone’s becoming an adult?

All I really did was throw a bit of a tantrum.

I guess Carol’s definition of an adult and mine are different.

The call ended, and I was left all alone.

I muttered to myself.

“Where should I even start looking? I have no idea... Would be nice to have a guide.”

Exploring wide open areas is always a pain.

I was wondering whether I should pull out one of the guide-type horrors from the mirror when I started fumbling around inside it like digging through my pockets.

"Oh?"

Rustle... rustle...

A beast cautiously emerged from the forest underbrush.

Grrrrrrrr...

A wolf with ash-grey fur was glaring straight at me.

“Not human, but it’s something. A clue.”

The wolf was much bigger than a person, its muscles strong enough to tear through an elephant’s hide without even using its teeth.

Must’ve been on some kind of steroid.

And what stood out was that it had syringes sticking out of it like a porcupine.

That meant there had to be an intelligent being somewhere performing experiments on it.

For a moment, I considered summoning the Beast of Gévaudan to take the wolf down.

No, forget that. Let’s just beat it up.

The wolf let out a mindless howl and lunged straight at me.

I could clearly hear the air slicing past my ear, and the moment I blinked, its front fangs were right in front of my face.

I leaned back, grabbed its neck mid-charge, and slammed it into the ground.

Crack!

The wolf was planted in the earth like a tree trunk.

It still twitched like it was alive, but then finally went limp.

Could it be dead?

I pulled it out and checked—its chest rose and fell faintly, confirming it was still alive.

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So I laid it down gently on the ground.

This one must’ve been human once, too.

I yanked out all the syringes lodged in its body and left a pillow—one I’d taken from Sandman—next to it so it could rest in peace.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have a way to turn a wolf back into a human. Not yet.

But I’ll find the mastermind and make it happen, so hang in there.

I glanced at the syringe still in my hand and made up my mind about where to go next.

“All right. Let’s head to the hospital.”

I set off to find the one responsible for injecting the wolf.