After I Turned a Horror Game into a Parenting Simulation Game

: The Fallen Youth

2

The mechanical voice sounded again: "All players, please return to your homes according to the Number Tag in your hand."

I subconsciously reached into my pocket and pulled out a Number Tag with "1001" written on it.

Following the mechanical voice's instructions, I arrived on the tenth floor of the apartment building.

A very wealthy family seemed to live on the 10th floor; their apartment took up the entire level.

My eyes lit up instantly!

'Doesn't that mean there's so much to clean!'

I have severe OCD and mysophobia. Ever since I was a child, I've loved cleaning and can't stand the slightest speck of dirt.

After becoming a housewife, it got even worse. I only feel at ease when my home is perfectly clean.

I once washed a black piece of clothing until it turned white and scrubbed the floors until they shone like a mirror. The dishes in our house were always arranged in perfect, neat rows, as if they were standing in formation.

My Husband and Daughter found it unbearable and often argued with me about it.

Looking at the massive house before me, I suddenly felt I had a new space to fully unleash my talents.

A moment later, the door swung open from the inside. The sight that greeted me was an absolute disaster.

Flickering lights, a living room splattered with some unidentifiable red liquid, black mold peeling from the walls, and a sofa caked in dust and grime.

My eyebrow twitched. My gaze locked onto the teenager sitting on the sofa with his feet propped up on the coffee table.

He had a mop of curly yellow hair, five or six studs in his ears, and wore ripped jeans with a chain attached.

He had the complete look of a juvenile delinquent.

He heard the door open and looked up at me, his eyes filled with a crazed bloodlust. "You're back. I'm hungry. Hurry up and make dinner! I want Braised Eyeballs and Stir-fried Human Hands."

The live comments began to gloat.

"Damn, she ran into the instance's second Main Boss right at the start. This newbie's luck is really something else."

"Looks like she's a goner. She's dead if she does and dead if she doesn't, unless the rookie actually chops off her own eyeballs and hands, hahahaha."

Seeing that I wasn't moving, the teenager pulled a knife from his waistband and pointed it at my throat.

It wasn't that I hadn't seen him move. Instead, my face darkened as I stared, fixated, at his feet on the coffee table.

'I suddenly understood one of the missions in this parenting simulation. As the Mom, my job is obviously to save this degenerate teenager!'