Horror Game Developer: My games aren't that scary! Chapter 197: Not as it seems [1]

I froze on the spot.

The muffled sound of steps echoed outside the door.

They were coming closer.

Ba... Thump! Ba... Thump!

Mr. Jingles smiled at , his hands covering both of his eyes.

"Why are you leaving? You should stay and play more~"

The longer the clown spoke, the more my mind dulled, as if each word drained sothing from . My thoughts spiraled, and before I realized it, I had stepped back.

Closer to the window.

Closer to the rapid tapping of the rain against it.

"Let’s play."

Mr. Jingles spoke again.

The steps grew even closer.

Tatata~

The familiar tune.

I took another step back.

I was now leaning against the open window.

"Mr Jingles says~"

My heart skipped a beat, and I imdiately turned around.

But right as I did—

"Freeze."

I froze, my mind blanking out.

By the ti I snapped out of it, I was facing the front again.

I was facing Mr. Jingles.

’Shit, shit, shit—!’

The clown’s smile was wide now.

So wide that I felt chills running down my back.

"Mr. Jingles says~"

The clown’s voice echoed again, and the sound of footsteps was now closer than ever.

Sweat trickled down the side of my face.

"...Stare at the bed."

"——!"

My head moved on its own.

’No!’

I caught a glimpse of the edges of a yellow suit. Imdiately, I tried to resist, but I couldn’t.

My body refused to listen to .

The clothes expanded further and further in my vision.

’No, I can’t look. I can’t even open my eyes!’

I desperately fought back. It was useless.

It was—

"Hihihi~"

A sudden giggling filled the room, and I snapped out of it as a head popped out from outside the window.

"Are we playing? You called out because we were playing? I want to play!"

It was Mirelle as her gaze turned towards the clown in the fra.

Her eyes shone.

"A cartoon!"

Clank—!

But right as her words echoed, the door opened and several smiling figures walked in.

I didn’t waste a single second and moved out of the window, feeling the heavy rain hit from above as I basked in the darkness of the night.

I had summoned Mirelle in advance while the rat wasn’t looking. I had done so in case sothing unexpected happened.

For a mont, I thought that she wouldn’t co.

But thankfully, she did.

’I would’ve been done for if I hadn’t done so.’

While I was still unsure of how Mirelle’s powers worked, from what I had managed to observe, she had the ability to stop an anomaly’s abilities for a very brief mont.

The sa thing happened with the Twisted Man, and now the sa was true for Mr. Jingles.

She couldn’t fight, but she could buy ti.

I took advantage of the mont she’d bought , gripping the edges of the window as a black film spread over my arm. It extended downward, stretching with as I began to descend slowly toward the bottom.

Touching the grass, the world flashed, and I caught sight of the window before .

I froze for a mont, feeling several gazes locked onto from the window of the first floor. Their faces clung to the windows, pressed tightly against the glass, wide smiles stretching across their features as they stared.

My stomach rumbled.

’This isn’t a Third Order mission for nothing.’

The darkness returned, and...

BANG!

The thunder rumbled.

Soaked in the rain, I darted towards the side of the orphanage.

I knew that I couldn’t run away.

There was no way that I could run away.

’I have to find the little boy! I need to tag him, and everything will be over!’

Clenching my teeth, I picked up the pace, finding an empty window and opening it before moving back into the house.

Click!

Closing the window behind , I swallowed nervously.

The darkness engulfed from all sides. I could hardly see a thing as I tried my best to perceive my surroundings.

’It looks like I’m in a room. Most likely, this is one of the children’s rooms.’

Typically, children shared the sa room. So were shared between two, while others were shared between four.

This looked like one that was shared between four children.

The place was empty, and a heavy silence hung over the space.

Swallowing nervously, I kept my breath to a minimum while moving towards the door and pressing my ear against it.

"....."

It was silent outside.

I couldn’t hear a single thing.

I took a silent breath and tried my best to remain calm.

But it was hard.

...I was at a complete loss on how to proceed.

’Should I get the Dreamwalker and Mirelle to look around for the kid? But even if I do have them look around for him and they find him, how would I even be able to approach him?’

I checked the ti.

It was quite late. I knew that I didn’t have much ti left until the quest ended.

I knew the mont I failed the quest that sothing terrible would happen.

’I have to hurry up.’

But how? How exactly could I do that?

Clenching my teeth, I moved away from the door and carefully looked around the room in hopes of finding sothing that could help . But there wasn’t really much I could work with. There were a lot of crayons, so toys, and so pictures.

It was just as I was losing all hope that I stopped by a specific desk.

’This is...?’

I noticed a particular picture on one of the desks.

It was a photo of a boy and an older man. The mont I took notice of the boy, my breath paused.

That was...

’Chris.’

My hand shook slightly. Could this be...!? As I brought the picture closer, I noticed the man’s worn features. Sunken cheeks, heavy black circles under his eyes, and an overall appearance that spoke of exhaustion and poor health.

In a way, he kind of looked like .

’Is this Chris’s father? I’m not surprised he died... Given how he looks, he already looks like he’s taken one step towards his grave.’

I was no different, but it was also mainly due to the disease that I had.

I have improved rather significantly lately.

But it was still a work in progress.

Looking at the picture, I saw the two standing side by side, holding up a fra... an award, it seed. Yes, on closer inspection, it looked like a recognition plaque for an animation.

It was also the first ti that I had ever seen Chris smile.

"...."

I flipped the picture over, ready to put it back, when my hand froze mid-motion.

"This is...?"

A chill ran down my spine as I brought the picture closer. The shadows in the room seed to stretch, leaning in as if to watch.

And then I saw it.

Words, harsh, doodled, and uneven... scrawled in red crayon across the back of the photo. The lines were thick, almost carved into the paper, as if the writer had pressed down with all their force.

[Thief! Your father is a thief!]