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Mindreader in a Nightmare Game Novel Cover

Mindreader in a Nightmare Game

After transmigrating into a lethal horror game, the protagonist of Mindreader in a Nightmare Game discovers she possesses a rare ability: she can hear the private thoughts of the ghosts hunting her. Instead of bloodthirsty malice, she hears their strange desires to pet and touch her like a captive animal. This LitRPG mystery follows her struggle to navigate a terrifying reality where she is treated like a zoo exhibit by the supernatural, forcing her to survive their overwhelming attention.
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Chapter 3

Solemnly, I swept my gaze across the circle of grotesque and terrifying, yet strangely harmless faces of the ghosts, one by one.

Under the barrage of "Human, come cuddle!" inner voices, I admitted defeat.

A clingy human wasn't scary, but a clingy ghost was. A whole classroom of clingy ghosts was an absolute nightmare!

I took a steadying breath, picked up the notebook, and resumed searching for more clues.

The notebook's owner was named Peggy Clark. Her handwriting was neat and pretty, and for some reason, it felt vaguely familiar.

Where had I seen it before?

Suddenly, it clicked. The handwriting!

Even if the ghosts didn't remember their names or pasts, their handwriting wouldn't change much. If I could get all of them to write something, maybe I could identify Peggy by finding the ghost that could match her handwriting.

As per my instructions, the ghosts formed a line and began writing on several blank sheets of paper. Though they fumbled with the pen and paper at first, muscle memory kicked in, and soon, they were scribbling comfortably.

I watched closely and silently while comparing the handwriting.

They began with simple words like "sky"and "big".

Somehow, someone had a terrible idea and started a trend among the ghosts. They began copying each other and writing the word "human".

One particularly cultured ghost even wrote a full sentence. "Humans love me, and I love humans."

When I met his eagerly expectant gaze, I wore a complicated expression and applauded. "Y-You did great."

After the cultured ghost disappointedly drifted away, another ghost stepped up to me, bent down, and started writing.

This female ghost looked especially tragic. Her head was barely attached to her neck, and she had to hold it in place with one hand.

She was the last ghost in line.

Finally free from so many eager, longing stares, I let out a small sigh of relief, but that relief was short-lived because I recognized her handwriting.

It wasn't Peggy's handwriting, but the handwriting from the line "Know your place, Piggy Clark."

I took two steps back and carefully studied her. But after looking her up and down, the result wasn't what I expected.

This grim, tragic female ghost, whose head was barely attached, was covered in blood and broken limbs. Her eyes were filled with pure innocence.

Could it be that all ghosts became childlike and pure after forgetting their pasts?

While resting my chin in my hand, I circled Grimmie thoughtfully.

She blushed under my gaze and had no idea what to do with her scattered limbs, though her blood-strained face hardly showed any color.

Her inner thoughts, however, had spiraled into a frenzy. Words fired out at machine-gun speed.

"Why is the human looking at me? Does she like me? Does she hate me? Does she like or hate me? Why is she still circling me?

"Will she nuzzle me? Can I nuzzle her? Does she like me? Does she hate me? What—"

Her thoughts were annoyingly loud and chaotic. I pretended to circle her a few more times, but mentally, I was drowning in her psychic high-speed rambling.

Rather than overthinking, I decided to go on the offensive and deploy some cunning tricks.

I fixed Grimmie with a feigned stern look and demanded, "It was you, wasn't it?"

Her brain was completely short-circuited. "She's talking to me! She likes me, but why isn't she smiling when she talks to me? Does she hate me? What—"

I couldn't take it anymore and grabbed her shoulders to give her a hard shake. "Calm down! I have questions for you!"

"She's touching me! She's touched me! Did you see that, everyone? The human touched me first! I knew she liked me!"

With that, I gave up. Humans and ghosts were truly different creatures.

I figured that there wasn't any villainy going on here. To be bad, she’d at least need a functioning brain.

With that clue leading to nowhere, I had no choice but to take out the last item the ghosts had brought me. It was a thick, coarse hemp rope.

It looked plain and ordinary. There was nothing special about it, except that someone had hanged themselves with it.

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