“Shocking entertainment news!
The latest American horror movie, A Hand Reaching Out of the Toilet, has fallen to a miserable 2.1 rating on IMDb!
At this rate, it may actually win Worst Horror Movie of the Year!”
It was midnight in Los Angeles.
Atlas Vance sat alone on the living-room sofa, staring blankly at the entertainment report playing on the television while an overwhelming number of unfamiliar memories churned inside his head.
Hadn’t he just been lying under the covers watching Ringu before suddenly ending up here?
Atlas closed his eyes and carefully sorted through the chaotic memories.
After several minutes, he finally understood what had happened: he had transmigrated into a parallel world where the horror-film industry was in an unbelievably miserable state.
Countless movies were released every year, yet truly frightening horror films had become increasingly rare.
In this world, Atlas Vance was twenty-two years old and had lost his mother when he was young.
His father had founded a small independent production company called Vance Horror Pictures, originally declaring that he would help revive American horror cinema.
Unfortunately, almost every horror film the company produced had eventually been labeled cheap garbage by audiences and critics.
Things only became worse as the failures piled up.
Refusing to admit defeat, Atlas’s father eventually went all in and poured nearly every remaining dollar the company possessed into one final horror movie.
He had hoped that one successful release would save the company, but the result was exactly the opposite.
The movie was mocked across the internet almost immediately after release.
Its box office collapsed, the production lost practically everything invested into it, and Vance Horror Pictures was left with more than ten million dollars in debt.
Unable to endure the crushing failure and financial pressure, Atlas’s father ultimately jumped from the eighteenth floor of the company’s office building.
Naturally, the entire mess was left to Atlas.
After finishing those memories, Atlas sat motionless for several seconds before rubbing his forehead.
“A son inheriting his father’s debt is one thing, but more than ten million dollars?
What the hell am I supposed to pay that with?”
Even if he remembered classic horror films from his previous world, making them still required money.
Cameras, actors, crews, sets, locations, practical effects, post-production, and distribution all needed funding.
Without startup capital, knowing the plots of famous movies wouldn’t magically make ten million dollars of debt disappear.
[Ding!
Vengeful Ghost Contract System successfully bound!]
[Host: Atlas Vance]
[Age: 22]
[Background: Graduate of a third-rate film school.
Thirty-year mortgage, car payments, and owner of a production company carrying more than ten million dollars in debt…]
[Reputation: 0]
[Contracted Ghosts: 0]
A mysterious mechanical voice suddenly echoed inside Atlas’s mind.
He froze for only a moment before his expression changed from confusion to excitement, because before transmigrating he had read more than enough web novels to understand exactly what this meant.
A system had actually appeared.
Atlas quickly calmed himself down.
“Vengeful Ghost Contract System?
What exactly are you supposed to do?”
[Ding!
Obtained Talent: Master Director!]
[Ding!
Obtained Item: Cursed Videotape!]
[Ding!
Obtained Script: Ring!]
The next instant, an enormous amount of filmmaking knowledge flooded directly into Atlas’s mind.
Cinematography, lighting, editing, sound design, scene composition, actor direction, pacing, and countless other directing techniques became instinctive within seconds.
By the time the information settled, Atlas felt as though he had spent decades working behind a camera.
At almost the same moment, two objects appeared in his hands.
One was a complete screenplay for Ringu, while the other was an old black VHS cassette that looked disturbingly worn despite appearing out of nowhere.
Atlas immediately recognized the script, but the videotape sent an uncomfortable chill crawling across his skin.
He instinctively threw the cassette onto the sofa.
“What kind of beginner reward is this?” Atlas complained.
“Couldn’t you give me a hundred million dollars in startup capital instead?”
[Host, I believe you are dreaming.]
Atlas’s mouth twitched.
[Hint: This system grants the host a Contract ability capable of forming compulsory contracts with supernatural entities!]
[Once a contract is successfully established, the contracted entity cannot deliberately harm the host or directly disobey the host’s compulsory commands!]
[Increasing a contracted ghost’s favorability toward the host may provide additional rewards!]
Atlas stared at the system notification before slowly turning toward the cursed videotape lying beside him.
“So I can actually contract ghosts?”
The possibilities immediately appeared in his mind.
If genuine supernatural entities could be contracted, why spend millions trying to recreate ghosts with makeup, practical effects, or CGI?
Putting a real ghost in front of the camera would create a level of horror that ordinary actors and special-effects teams could never completely imitate.
Of course, dealing with actual ghosts sounded dangerously close to suicide.
Unfortunately, Atlas was already buried beneath more than ten million dollars in debt and had absolutely no desire to spend the rest of his life working ordinary jobs just to pay interest.
Compared with that future, taking one supernatural gamble suddenly didn’t seem completely unreasonable.
Atlas picked up the VHS cassette again.
The tape was old enough that it required a VCR, something almost nobody kept in their living room anymore.
Fortunately, the Vance family had worked in the film industry for years, and after searching through a storage room filled with outdated cameras, old monitors, cables, props, and forgotten equipment, Atlas eventually found a dusty VCR.
After struggling with the connections for several minutes, he finally hooked the machine up to the television.
Atlas returned to the sofa with the cursed tape in his hand and stared at it for several seconds.
“Sadako Yamamura is really going to appear?”
His fingers trembled slightly.
Atlas swallowed hard and slowly pushed the cassette into the VCR.
Sssssssss—
The television immediately filled with black-and-white static.
The interference lasted for several seconds before the image shifted, revealing the unsettling footage stored inside the cursed tape.
Strange images flashed across the screen until the picture finally settled on an old stone well surrounded by an oppressive atmosphere.
“Damn.
This is really happening.”
Atlas instinctively backed away from the television.
The next moment, a pair of pale hands slowly rose from inside the well and gripped its edge.
A woman wearing a white dress gradually pulled herself upward, her long black hair hanging over her face as she climbed completely out.
Atlas’s heartbeat accelerated immediately.
Sadako Yamamura.
The supernatural presence connected to the cursed videotape slowly began moving closer through the television image.
Her movements were unnatural and unsettling, and the static surrounding her seemed to grow stronger with every step.
Atlas couldn’t help retreating farther as his heart climbed into his throat.
Then his phone suddenly rang.
RING—
RING—
Atlas nearly jumped.
He knew exactly what kind of phone call normally followed someone watching Sadako’s cursed videotape.
Rather than answering and listening to whatever waited on the other end, Atlas immediately rejected the call.
When he turned back toward the television, Sadako had already reached the screen.
One pale hand pressed against the glass.
Then the surface of the television distorted.
Atlas’s eyes widened as Sadako’s hand pushed directly through the screen.
Her head and shoulders followed as she slowly crawled out of the television, long black hair hanging down while electronic interference crackled violently around her body.
Halfway through, however, Sadako suddenly stopped.
Atlas stared.
Her body had become awkwardly caught against the television frame.
Sadako twisted several times before finally forcing herself free and emerging completely into the living room.
Under any other circumstances Atlas might have found the situation ridiculous, but there was nothing funny about watching the real Sadako Yamamura straighten herself only a few feet away from him.
She slowly turned in his direction.
[Ding!
Contractable supernatural entity detected!]
[Vengeful Ghost: Sadako Yamamura!]
[Origin: Ring / Ringu!]
[Contract Method: Kiss her!]
Atlas stared at the notification.
Then he stared at Sadako.
Then he looked back at the notification.
“Kiss Sadako?” Atlas muttered.
“Are you trying to get me killed?”
Sadako slowly began moving toward him.
Atlas immediately realized that standing there complaining wouldn’t solve anything.
He clenched his teeth, forced down the fear rising in his chest, and rushed forward before his courage disappeared.
One hand pressed against the side of Sadako’s head before he quickly leaned forward.
Smack!
Atlas kissed her.
[Ding!
Contract successful!]
[Vengeful Ghost: Sadako Yamamura!]
[Abilities: Psychic Projection, Nensha, Telepathy, Psychokinesis, Illusions, Curse Transmission, Electromagnetic Interference, Spiritual Manifestation, Supernatural Regeneration…]
[Favorability Toward Host: -100]
[Current Emotion: Wants to drag the host into the well and make him regret ever touching her!]
Atlas immediately retreated several steps.
Looking at the favorability value, he felt helpless.
The contract method had been chosen by the system, so this really couldn’t be blamed entirely on him.
Sadako stood motionless.
For several seconds, she seemed unable to process what had just happened.
Then the entire room changed.
Bang!
One of the lights exploded.
The television shattered behind Sadako while chairs, lamps, books, picture frames, and other objects suddenly rose into the air as if gravity had disappeared.
A violent psychic force swept through the living room, sending furniture crashing against the walls while glass shattered across the floor.
Atlas’s expression changed immediately.
Sadako’s long black hair suddenly moved.
Several strands shot directly toward him like living ropes.
“Sadako!
Stop!”
The hair froze less than two inches from Atlas’s forehead.
He stopped breathing.
Sadako visibly attempted to continue the attack, but the strands refused to move any closer.
Her psychic power surged again, causing nearby furniture to tremble violently, yet nothing could be directed toward Atlas.
The contract was working.
Atlas slowly released the breath trapped in his lungs.
He had almost died less than a minute after receiving his system.
Now that Sadako was contracted, she shouldn’t be capable of intentionally harming him anymore, but Atlas wasn’t willing to depend entirely on assumptions.
He immediately straightened and gave his first serious command.
“Sadako Yamamura, from now on you are forbidden from deliberately attacking me or using your supernatural abilities to intentionally harm me.”
The strands of hair immediately withdrew.
The floating objects crashed onto the floor.
Atlas finally relaxed slightly.
Sadako remained completely motionless in front of him, her face still hidden behind her long black hair.
Atlas watched her cautiously for several moments before slowly stepping closer.
“Ahem.”
He tried to make his voice sound normal.
“Sadako Yamamura.
I’ve heard quite a lot about you.” Atlas gave an awkward smile.
“My name is Atlas Vance.”
No response.
Atlas continued anyway.
“I actually grew up watching your movies.”
Sadako remained silent.
“Well…
welcome to my home.”
Still nothing.
Atlas stared at her for another moment.
Now that the contract prevented her from deliberately attacking him, curiosity gradually began overpowering his fear.
Her long black hair completely covered her face.
Atlas hesitated before slowly reaching forward.
He carefully brushed several strands of hair aside.
The moment he saw what was underneath, Atlas’s entire expression collapsed.
“HOLY SHIT!!!”