Look at the height of this building, the layout of this street corner, Huang Mao is very familiar.

Even the signboard on the corner of the street clearly reads the three big characters of Qingyang Road.

Huang Mao zoomed in to take a closer look at the scene in the game.

When did the game become so realistic? Huang Mao was a little skeptical.

The texture is as detailed as it is as if it were taken with a camera.

Thinking of a series of strange things that happened today, Huang Mao was a little afraid to go on.

He shook his head vigorously and smiled bitterly, "Am I playing hysteria?" ”

Reluctantly got up from the chair, he didn't dare to quit the game, and once he quit, he was afraid that he would have to wait until the next morning.

Just take a nap, maybe after a nap, your mental state will return to normal, Huang Mao thought to himself.

His head is like paste now, opening his eyes is a game, and closing his eyes will not be able to get rid of it.

Falling headlong on the bed, but sleepy at all, the bed seemed to have magic power, and the more he lay down, the more awake he became.

Tossing and turning for a long time, Huang Mao leaned sideways to the screen, and the computer screen shone directly on his face with a faint light.

Although Huang Mao still had a subtle sense of light through his eyelids with his eyes closed, Huang Mao suddenly noticed that there was a black shadow shaking in front of him.

Almost instantly, his red eyes opened, and Huang Mao looked around nervously: "Who?" ”

In the quiet room, there was only the sound of the computer console running.

Huang Mao picked up the beer bottle he drank by the bed, and sat on the edge of the bed cautiously, his heart pounding.

The computer screen flickered a few times at this time, and Huang Mao's heart was full of doubts, he didn't move the game character?

Hurriedly came to the computer, and Huang Mao saw a black cat appear in front of the character.

The black cat crouched on the garbage can, hunched over, its hair bursting.

The blue eyes stared at him in horror, and he grinned and warned him.

Although I didn't have headphones, the sound of the cat's meow was still clear to my ears.

It's coming from outside.

Huang Mao felt that his hair was also beginning to burst, and his pores were covered with goosebumps.

The black cat seemed to have lost patience at this time, and pounced directly with its paws, and the yellow-haired ghost made a god to control the character and slash flatly, and the black cat lay on the ground without moving.

Is this really still a game? This kind of interaction and the various initiatives of the black cat are simply too real!

Swallowing his saliva uncontrollably, Huang Mao suddenly had an idea in his heart.

Instead of clinging to the black cat's episode, Yellow Fur controls the characters to drill down the dark alley.

Since the alleys are all there, is your home also there?

Nervous and curious, Huang Mao pursed his dry lips and added another cigarette.

The alley was as empty and dark as it was in reality.

The shops in the alley are lit up sporadically, and there are few families living there.

Huang Mao quickly controlled the character to the vicinity of the door, and curiously turned around, there was no No. 104 in the game, which is really fucking weird!

He got up and walked out of his computer desk to the door, and even though he didn't believe that the game character would come to life, he just couldn't help but want to take a look.

Pushing open the door with anxiety, the cold wind poured in, and the yellow hair creaked on top of the thin layer of snow.

Not only was there no one around, but there were not even footprints.

Huang Mao returned to the house angrily and funny, laughing at himself for still having such a conjecture.

But it's all here, there's no reason not to go into the house and take a turn.

Huang Mao saw the door of his house closed in the game, and slashed it without hesitation, and the glass shattered.

Yes, the response is shattered.

The cool breeze poured into the house again, and Huang Mao really had a chill down his back this time.

Turning his head stiffly, there was nothing on the other side of the door, just the glass shattering strangely to the ground.

Huang Mao's face turned pale and stared at the screen again, and his trembling hands pressed on the keyboard.

The character moves on.

Looking back, empty.

Moving forward, looking back, there was still no movement.

Through the screen, Huang Mao can clearly see that there is a computer desk in front of him, and the people at the table are looking at the computer intently.

The man was none other than himself.

The scalp was tingling, and Huang Mao always felt that he should do something, but when he turned around, there was still nothing behind him.

The sound of his heartbeat could be heard throughout the room, Huang Mao raised the wine bottle and pointed to the empty living room, and with his other hand hurriedly pressed the power on/off button.

Nervously staring ahead.

But when the computer screen stopped, a figure suddenly appeared in the living room, out of place with the surroundings.

Huang Mao only felt that his liver and gallbladder were cracked, and he gasped, but he couldn't spit out this breath.

There are ghosts, there are really ghosts!

Huang Mao's legs were filled with lead, and he couldn't move a bit, and he relied on one hand to press on the table and struggled to support his body.

And the figure also swayed strangely from side to side, approaching step by step.

Huang Mao's legs swayed violently, and the whole table shook with his body.

He freed up one hand to drag his leg and take a step.

He didn't take a step off the table, but he fell first.

The yellow hair fell to the ground solidly.

His lowered gaze swept to a pair of small red shoes printed with broken flowers, the body of which was short and the tip was slender.

It's the same as the three-inch golden lotus.

Huang Mao swallowed nervously, how could anyone still wear this thing in this era!

And this shoe looks a little weird, if it is a cloth of shoes, it is more light, but this pair of small shoes looks at the upper of the shoe shiny, and the texture is not like fabric, but like made of paper.

Huang Mao continued to look up weakly, with a pale and stiff body, a bright red jacket, and blush on his cheeks.

What a man is this! It's clearly a paper figure for funerals!

Huang Mao bit the tip of his tongue hard, the side of his mouth was bloodshot, and the whole person woke up from the numbness under the pain.

"Ah!!h With a trembling roar, Huang Mao stepped back a few meters with his hands on the ground.

Pick up the broken bottle slag in your hand and throw it towards the paper figure.

Although it cut through many places on the paper figure, the paper figure still swayed and approached it unhurriedly.

Those little feet stepped on small broken steps, more like a talisman.

Huang Mao was already frightened, and his limp legs couldn't use any strength.

Fortunately, the paper man was slow, and Huang Mao came to the storage room at the back with a rolling belt.

There are piles of unsold goods here, and there are more gaps in the cluttered environment that are easy to hide.

Huang Mao's brain has long been blank, and it is completely dominated by his body to subconsciously find a place to hide.

Hiding in the crevice under the container, Huang Mao struggled to adjust his breathing, staring at the door.

After a while, a shadow appeared on the ground, and the paper figure rustled in with slightly comical steps.

Looking at the unchanged banter on the paper man's face, the yellow-haired pupils dilated, and he cautiously stretched out his hand to cover his mouth, for fear of making a little noise.