Chapter 27: Preparations

For the time being, the personnel issue was settled. When the new script commenced, Yang Qiu planned to add three more characters, maintaining a roughly equal ratio between groups. The second matter to address was the location. Creating a space out of thin air was unrealistic, and borrowing people from Gu Yi to construct mirrored dimensions was even more absurd. Thus, the script had to be based on a physical site.

Fortunately, America had no shortage of abandoned buildings and unused land, offering Yang Qiu plenty of options. Currently, his attention was drawn to a large haunted house that had been deserted due to financial troubles before it ever opened for business.

The haunted house sat on the outskirts, rarely visited, its interior thick with dust. Yet the structure itself was largely intact, and many of the original haunted house fixtures remained. Without need for further decoration, the place was atmospheric enough to deter most visitors, especially at night.

At dusk, Yang Qiu formed a spiritual body and wandered through the haunted house. Since he’d learned of Gu Yi’s true intentions, some of the constraints that had once bound his actions had been lifted. At least now, he didn’t have to worry about the Sorcerer Supreme’s people detecting traces of his abilities during routine, unscripted activities and causing extra trouble.

The haunted house occupied a sizable area, split into two levels: one above ground and one below. The upper floor was designed to mimic a hospital and a school, separated only by a wall. The basement simulated environments like ruins and prison cells.

The remnants of the setting were fairly complete, but equipment was scarce—only a few broken tables and chairs, and not a single severed limb prop remained.

These problems, however, were easily overcome. Creating life or special items during script evolution consumed significant energy, but ordinary objects required almost none.

After Yang Qiu had explored the entire site, the sun had fully dropped below the horizon. The pitch-black atmosphere, accompanied by the incessant chirping of insects, created a chilling ambiance.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, pondering whose head—or which heads—should bear the blame for this rundown place in the upcoming newcomer assessment script. Who would ever return to somewhere like this?

Cultists! Suddenly, Yang Qiu remembered a distinctive feature of America—or rather, of most non-Chinese countries. After years in New York, Yang Qiu could confidently say that cults, rare in China, were not uncommon here. His family had received more than one leaflet, and sometimes these sects were even more brutal and disgusting than people imagined.

None of these cults were good. Pinning the incident on them gave Yang Qiu no psychological burden whatsoever.

Having decided, Yang Qiu drifted to the basement and used his spiritual power to inscribe strange patterns and barely comprehensible arrays on the floors of several large rooms. Around them, he arranged dried bloodstains, candles burned down to their stubs, and a small knife with a bloodied blade.

Everything was perfect. Even the dust accumulated over time was preserved, making the scene terrifying enough that any normal person would be scared half to death and immediately call the police after escaping.

The real-world setup was just about sufficient, mainly for the post-assessment investigation by Frank and the others. If they survived the newcomer assessment, they would undoubtedly search for similar locations in reality, and Yang Qiu’s extra arrangements would greatly enhance credibility.

Blurring the line between truth and fiction made everything easier to believe.

With the venue settled, the next issue was rewards. These days, empty promises were out of favor; people needed real compensation for their efforts, or else who would bother? Moreover, a mysterious organization with a long history needed tangible offerings to be believable.

Yang Qiu temporarily divided the rewards into four modules. The first was physical items—currently, only Kiran’s time stopwatch was in stock. Every item evolved from the script could be borrowed by Yang Qiu regardless of distance, utilizing its properties and abilities. Holding the item directly granted him an extra boost, so giving them out when necessary was no problem.

Second was materials. The inventory was sparse, consisting only of some hair shed by An, which, upon inspection, still contained traces of shadow power. By script standards, or even Gu Yi’s sorcerer standards, this was a mystical material. Besides that, all that remained were the blue-bag fish frolicking in the ocean—not much in variety or quantity. Ultimately, it was a matter of insufficient accumulation.

Third were consumables. At present, there were none in stock, but Yang Qiu figured he could prepare a batch before the assessment began. The method would rely on Van Helsing. In his setting, Van Helsing knew how to make common hunter consumables; once successfully evolved, those methods would become real. For materials, Yang Qiu planned to simulate them with his own spiritual power. After script evolution, planets born in the universe of his mind allowed limited simulation of materials from the setting. Unfortunately, these materials were mere simulations and couldn’t be used as true resources.

Fourth was knowledge. “Knowledge is power”—the phrase held true in the mystical world as well. Frank, Natasha, and the others most wanted to acquire knowledge that would let them step into the mystical realm. But the knowledge base was still thin, limited to what Van Helsing knew. If needed, Yang Qiu could turn to Gu Yi, who had amassed centuries worth of knowledge, though most of it carried heavy side effects.

Additionally, if script evolution went smoothly, Yang Qiu expected to solve part of the knowledge issue. In his setting, the three script characters had undergone systematic study before entering the newcomer assessment, each with their own mentors and career paths.

With rewards roughly defined, Yang Qiu needed to devise an exchange method, borrowing inspiration from novels he’d read in his previous life.

He set up three obstacles. The first was points—earned by completing tasks or capturing anomalous entities, points served as a general equivalent in the real world, recorded in the Ouroboros mark.

The second was profession—exchangers could only redeem items and knowledge relevant to their current profession or general categories, preventing them from gobbling up basic knowledge from all paths early on, which Yang Qiu couldn’t supply.

The third was authority, or level—exchangers could only exchange or view items and knowledge at or below their current level. After all, Yang Qiu hadn’t finished devising the higher-tier content.