Played a Horror Game Like a Parenting Sim

I was a housewife with severe OCD and a serious cleanliness obsession. I accidentally entered what I thought was a wholesome parenting game where I beat the crap out of my rebellious son, smothered my adorable daughter with love, and ripped out the corpse-stitching on my husband to sew him back up. On the day I cleared the game, the three of them tearfully sent me off. Only during the final settlement did I learn the truth: my husband was the ultimate boss of the horror game. My son was an infamous demon who left no players alive, and my daughter had crushed the skulls of a hundred players. Wasn't this supposed to be a parenting game? Turns out, I had walked straight into a horror game. Chapter 1 A mechanical voice sounded, "Welcome to the Family of Four game instance. Please play your role as "Mom." "Clear condition: Survive 10 days and safely board the plane back to the real world. Players: 100. Survivors: 100. "Your real-world body is currently in a vegetative state. Only clearing the game will wake you. Death in-game means real death. Enjoy your stay." I was a housewife on my way back from grocery shopping when the car accident happened. When I opened my eyes, I found myself inside a game world. The title "Family of Four" screamed wholesome parenting sim to me. I quietly looked around at the other players who had entered with me. A lot of them were terrified of this new environment, and several men were cursing loudly. Among the crowd, a veteran player named Mike Bates started explaining the situation. "This is an infinite horror game. The only way to clear it and revive is by getting an SSS rating. Otherwise, you will be killed by the boss." "How do you even get that kind of rating?" a college girl asked. Mike sighed. "You need to raise the favorability of every boss in the instance to 100. So far, no player has ever made it." The girl broke down, clutching her head and crying, "I want to go home! I want my mom!" The other players started tearing up as well. Only I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. "Isn't this just a parenting game? Why are they so terrified?" I decided to clear this thing quickly and leave. If I weren't home, who would pick up my daughter from school? Who would clean the kitchen? Who would help with her homework? And my husband would just climb into bed without a bath. Just thinking about it made my blood pressure shoot up. The veteran players in the crowd stared at me strangely. "Is this newbie crazy? This is a life-or-death game!" "She's calm now, but she'll be crying later. This is the Family of Four instance!" Bullet comments flew rapidly across the top of my vision. [This rookie really is fearless. I bet she starts crying the second she goes in. I've never seen anyone clear the Family of Four with all their limbs attached.] [She probably doesn't even know that if her SAN value drops to 0, she'll die for real.] [Can't wait to see the boss blow her head off, hahaha!] The mechanical voice rang out again. "All players, please proceed to your homes according to the number on your card." I reached into my pocket and pulled out a card that read 1001. Following the system's instructions, I came to the tenth floor of the apartment building. It clearly belonged to a wealthy family; only one unit occupied the entire level. My eyes lit up. That meant so much space to clean! I had severe OCD and a serious cleanliness obsession. Ever since I was little, I loved cleaning and couldn't stand the tiniest bit of dirt. After I became a housewife, it only got worse. I only felt comfortable when the house was spotless. I once washed a black shirt until it turned white and polished the floors until they could reflect like a mirror. The dishes in the kitchen were arranged in perfect rows like soldiers standing at attention. My husband and daughter complained bitterly about it and often argued with me. Staring at the large apartment in front of me, I felt like I had found the perfect place to apply my skills again. Chapter 2 The door swung open, revealing a disaster zone: flickering lights, a living room splattered with unidentified red liquid, walls peeling with mold, and a couch buried under a thick layer of dust. My eyebrows twitched. My gaze immediately locked onto a teenage boy lounging on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He had a head of messy curls, five or six earrings dangling from his ears, and wore a pair of ripped jeans with chains hanging off them. He looked every bit a juvenile delinquent. At the sound, he looked up at me, his eyes flickering with madness and bloodlust. "You're back. I'm starving. Hurry up and make dinner! I want braised eyeballs and fried hands." The stream chat was immediately filled with schadenfreude. [Holy shit! She ran into the secondary boss right off the bat. This newbie's luck is something else.] [Whether she cooks or not, she's screwed. Unless she gouges out her own eyes and chops off her hands, hahaha!] When I wasn't moving, the boy reached into his stomach, pulled out a sharp knife, and pointed it at my throat. It wasn't that I hadn't noticed his movement, but my gaze remained fixed on his feet. Suddenly, I understood what one of the main tasks of this parenting game was. As the mother, I was supposed to save this rebellious teenager. There was nothing I hated more than a school kid refusing to behave. A problem child at such a young age... I was absolutely going to give him a proper taste of motherly love. I grabbed a feather duster from nearby and smacked it hard across his leg. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm your mother! Look at you—putting your feet up on the coffee table! What if we had guests over? How would that look? Put them down right now!" The boy's phone slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor. He raised his head, staring at me blankly. Comments of shock flashed across the screen. [What the hell? Does this newbie have a death wish? She's bold enough to treat the secondary boss like that!] [He is gonna bite her head off any second. Too bloody for me. I'm out.] ... Oblivious, I grabbed the boy by the ear and yanked him to his feet. "What are you staring at?" I glared. "If you don't clean this coffee table right now, I'll show you no mercy. And what the hell are you wearing? What is that ridiculous haircut? Why aren't you in school today? Are you asking for a beating?" The boy's expression shifted, but the bloody scene the viewers anticipated never happened. Instead, deep in his eyes, I caught a flicker of confusion and maybe even a hint of enjoyment. The system's voice rang in my ear. "Son's favorability has increased to 30." I blinked, wondering if the boy was a masochist, but this only solidified my theory: the mission of this parenting game was to whip a dysfunctional family into shape. The boy stood up obediently and went to find a rag. I reached out and smacked him on the back of the head. "Go cut that yellow mop off!" I added. "Throw away all that garbage on your ears! Do it immediately!" The system's voice rang out again. "Son's favorability has increased to 50." I looked down at my hand, completely convinced of my theory now. "One smack raises his favorability by 20 points? He really is a masochist!" I ordered him to help me clean the house. No dinner until the entire place was spotless. Under my strict supervision, he soon swapped out the dirty couch covers for clean ones. I replaced the broken lightbulbs, and we rolled a fresh layer of paint over the moldy walls. The house was quickly restored to a pristine, orderly state. As I looked around the spotless home, my mood instantly lifted. Realizing I still didn't know the boy's name, I gave his backside a light kick. "Go get your homework and textbooks. Let me see where you are with your studies." Chapter 3 The system's voice rang out again. "Son's favorability has increased to 60." His textbooks and homework were untouched. He clearly hadn't studied at all. Just as I thought! The stereotype that problem kids were also academic failures was spot on. I rolled my eyes in disgust, smacked the back of his head a few more times, and forced him to write down his name. Looking at his crooked handwriting, I learned that his name was Liam. He was 14 years old and in the eighth grade. I picked up the duster and stood over him to supervise his homework. Every mistake earned him a hard whack. Handling rebellious teenagers was my specialty. In the real world, my daughter loved skipping classes and getting into fights during middle school, but under my strict supervision, her grades shot straight up. A gem couldn't be polished without friction, and I refused to let my child be a slacker, not even in a game. Thanks to my relentless parenting, his favorability toward me climbed to 80. The clock on the wall approached five o'clock. Liam's face suddenly turned a sickly gray, and a dark mist swirled around his body. "Mom," he said in a chilling, sinister voice, "aren't you going to pick up my sister from school?" Oblivious to his transformation, I gasped, "Oh no! I was so busy helping you with homework that I completely forgot. Quick, call your dad and tell him to pick her up on his way home from work!" Liam snapped back to normal. He picked up his phone and dialed the big boss. ... While everything went smoothly for me, the other players weren't so lucky. The moment the five o'clock bell rang, a server-wide system announcement boomed. "Players remaining: 100. Survivors: 50." The players who didn't go pick up the daughters were devoured by their furious sons. Those who did leave to get the daughters were swallowed by the black mist before they even made it out of the neighborhood. Only those who brought their sons along managed to survive. And then there was me—the one who hadn't stepped a foot outside and had simply told my husband to bring the child home. I didn't understand why so many players were eliminated. "Have none of these people ever been parents before?" As a housewife, I had to cook and help my son with his homework. The task of picking up our daughter naturally fell to the other parent. "Isn't it just normal for a husband to pick up his daughter?" Knowing that the daughter and father would be home soon, I headed into the kitchen to prepare dinner. But when I opened the fridge and saw a mountain of unknown, foul-smelling meat, I fell silent. "Just how long has this fridge gone without being cleaned?" I frowned, unable to stand it for even one more second. Outside the kitchen, Liam wore a creepy smile, eager to see what kind of dish his new mom would make. "Trying to make things difficult for me?" I snorted. "I'll show you what a hardworking mother can do!" By the time dinner was ready, the front door swung open. A handsome man walked into the living room, holding the hand of a soaking-wet little girl. A kitchen knife was stuck right in the man's stomach. The three of them fell into a dead silence as they stared at the dining table covered entirely in vegetables. Even more water dripped from the girl's clothes, and her eyes turned crimson. "Mom," she said in an unsettling voice, "are you seriously only planning to feed us this?" My husband stared at me ferociously. His body began splitting open and leaking blood. "Honey, why didn't you cook any meat? I wanted fried brains and braised hands. Why didn't you make any?" Liam watched the scene unfold with mockery in his eyes. But as I stared at my daughter's skirt dripping wet and my husband's blood leaking all over the floor, I completely lost it. That was the floor I had just scrubbed! It was dirty again! I glared at my husband, jumped up, and smacked him hard on the head. "What kind of father are you? Can't you do anything right? Is all the housework supposed to fall on me? "Can't you see your daughter is soaked? What kind of ridiculous Halloween cosplay nonsense are you trying to pull in my house?" Chapter 4 Even more blood poured from my husband's body, and he radiated an even more dangerous aura. Clearly, the methods I used on Liam weren't going to work on him at all. Comments of mockery flashed across the screen. [Oh boy, is she finally going to die? I think she completely infuriated the big boss.] [The last newbie got slowly sliced to death. Let's see what this one will get.] ... I had no idea that my husband was intending to kill me; I was just furious about how unqualified he was as a father. His daughter was soaking wet, and he didn't even know enough to change her clothes. Once I finished bathing the girl, I would deal with him properly. "Make whatever you want yourself," I said casually before grabbing my daughter by the back of her collar and marching into the bathroom. Once inside, I ignored the sharp claws she thrust at my chest, swiftly stripped off her clothes, and stuffed her into the bathtub. "Sweetie, I'm going to give you a nice bath!" I gave her a loud kiss on the cheek and started scrubbing her thoroughly. Compared to her punk brother, my daughter was actually very cute. Now she seemed to quite enjoy it. The system's voice sounded, "Daughter's favorability has increased to 20." I paused, then began scrubbing even harder. "That's right! Mothers like clean children." Once the bath was done, I changed her into a beautiful dress and tied her hair into two pigtails. Looking at her round, adorable face, I remembered when my real daughter was little. My heart melted. I couldn't help leaning down to kiss her repeatedly, launching into full praise mode. "Oh, my daughter is so beautiful and so cute! Mwah! I love you so much!" She blushed, and the system's voice sounded again, [Daughter's favorability has increased to 50.] Seeing her so happy, I used a playful tone to ask her name and age. "My name is Penny, and I'm five years old," she answered obediently. After bringing Penny out, I saw my husband throwing a tantrum in the living room. "Where's the meat in the fridge? Why is it all gone?" Unfazed, I told him that I had thrown away all the rotting, foul-smelling meat. He went berserk, ripping off his arm and glaring at me ferociously. "Then pay me back with your own flesh!" My anger flared up instantly. "Are you threatening me?" I had been a housewife for so many years, and my real husband and daughter had never once raised their voices at me. Now, playing a game, I was being threatened by a virtual husband. My real family was still waiting for me to come home and cook. How dare a game character throw a tantrum at me? He thought I was a pushover just because I hadn't shown my claws yet? I yanked the knife out of his stomach and slammed it into the dining table. "What did you just say? Say it again!" Seeing the knife in front of him, he shuddered in fear. He hurriedly reattached his arm and sat down to eat. Comments of amazement flashed across the screen. [The new player has discovered a game mechanic. The bosses are terrified of the weapons that killed them!] [Brillant!] ... Watching them finish every bite of their food, I began cleaning the floor that the father and daughter had just dirtied. While cleaning, I warned them against doing that kind of role-playing again in the house. Behind my back, Penny and Liam each grabbed one of their father's arms, silently refusing to let him hurt me. I was delighted that they had taken my side. I hadn't loved them for nothing after all. Before going to sleep, I noticed something wrong with my husband's exposed skin. He was so young, but his body was covered in ugly stitches. There were even traces of dried blood on the threads. I wondered who had sewn him up and why they had done such a terrible job.