The map editor used an overhead editing mode: buildings and decorations were automatically generated based on the user's imagination, though the generated items were mostly ordinary.
Within the designated range, Pei Guang could generate anything without restriction.
When he tried creating some special items, he realized he lacked materials. Certain special decorations and structures required specific materials, and while the system provided a list of what was needed, Pei Guang didn't plan to gather them this time since they weren't essential.
After running some tests and confirming how the editor worked, Pei Guang happily began designing the map.
If he followed the Dead by Daylight style of map-building, the space allowed for three layers with two maps per layer. At first, Pei Guang intended to use the entire space for map-making.
But then he thought it over and found that boring. Why do players make maps? Completing tasks is just a small part of it, the real core is fun.
Would simply recreating a game be enjoyable? Sure, but not the most fun. This time, he had the freedom to build anything, and as a "stitched-together monster" of a player himself, how could his version of a real horror experience game not be stitched together too?
Still, even a stitched-together game needs balance. Pei Guang was aware of his limits: going full chaos might make the game too difficult and break players' spirits.
So he decided on a hybrid approach. Half the map would directly follow the Dead by Daylight format.
It was a four-player game. What? The killer is the fifth player? No! Pei Guang planned for the Heliobus to be the killer. The players would stay human. As a spirit, the Heliobus could shift forms freely and sense emotional changes.
If someone got too scared and mentally broke down, the Heliobus could stabilize their emotions.
Sure, Pei Guang wanted to touch corpses, but a game was still a game. Though there had been real-life cases of people dying from fright or exhaustion while playing games, Pei Guang didn't want that happening in his map.
The other stitched-together part would be a survival-horror mode like Outlast, but easier for general audiences. So he fused together elements from Outlast, Pac-Man, Five Nights at Freddy's, and other escape-horror games.
Players would need to collect resources within a fixed map. Once they gathered enough, they could leave. These resources would be placed in very obvious spots for players to find—but during the process, terrifying creatures would chase them.
Players could hide in boxes, lockers, or trash cans, but not in front of a pursuer. As the collection progressed, more and more pursuers would spawn. Once all resources were collected, every pursuer would hunt the survivors.
To avoid making it too scary in realistic mode, Pei Guang didn't give the pursuers any special skills: they were just creepy dolls, ghosts, and other spooky forms. Combined with a dim environment, the experience would deliver unmatched thrills.
Of course, these two modes, while already atmospheric and rich in horror content, weren't enough on their own. After all, the Heliobus could feel human emotions.
Just like the few people who had been commissioned by Asta this time: each of them had been influenced by beauty, fell into a Heliobus trap, and nearly ended up as workers in the Heliobus factory.
To deal with people like that, you have to make them believe at first that they've met true love. But this "true love" wants to eat their heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys: harvesting their organs without even paying.
As for the specific settings, Pei Guang decided to let the Heliobi handle it on their own. After all, the more emotional reactions the participants gave off when being hunted, the more energy Heliobi could absorb.
If the horror isn't effective, Pei Guang figured, it's no one's fault but his own.
But as he continued working, Pei Guang noticed another problem. This world had Path-based powers. Even if people with such powers could be affected by Heliobus, what if someone skilled and fearless showed up?
Or worse, what if some bored Emanator decided to come play? Wouldn't this whole setup be boring to them?
So, Pei Guang added a few new features to his map editor:
[All foreign technology is nullified. Path-based powers are disabled within this space. Upon receiving fatal damage, participants will instantly teleport to a safe zone and fully recover. Participants will automatically understand the rules and mechanics.]
The first two features were added without issue—no limitations at all. But when it came to adding the last three, the system gave him a prompt:
[Please add a full recovery item to maintain map function. Recommended item: Ambrosial Arbor Fruit.]
Without thinking too much about it, Pei Guang simply inserted a processed Ambrosial Arbor fruit. After doing so, the system displayed:
[Feature successfully added.]
With the help of the system and the crystallized wisdom of game design from an entire world, Pei Guang built this map right next to Fyxestroll Garden. While he called it a "map," in Luofu it would be referred to as a Cave Heaven or Echo Space.
At the moment of completion, Pei Guang excitedly called out, "Tutu! The map's finished. Go check it out! You'll understand the rules as soon as you're in—go see if you can figure it out. Hey... Hanya? Xueyi? Huouuo, why are you here too?"
As Pei Guang was introducing it to Tutu, he noticed more and more people had gathered around him. Aside from March 7th and the Heliobus he'd previously captured, some of the Ten-Lords Commission had arrived too.
What Pei Guang didn't notice, however, was that as soon as his map was completed and his attention shifted, two bickering masks gleefully flew into the newly created space. No one noticed this oddity—not even Pei Guang himself realized something 'fun' had entered his space.
Hanya replied to his question in a slightly tired voice, "We heard you've been assigning work to some Heliobi, so we came to see what that's all about. After all…"
The Xianzhou Alliance is highly accepting of all intelligent life. On the Luofu, as long as one doesn't cross its boundaries or cause chaos, they're allowed to live peacefully.
The Heliobi that escaped this time may have caused a bit of trouble, but there were indeed some who hadn't violated Luofu's morals or laws. That's why, even though many Heliobi were sealed within Fyxestroll Garden, they were still allowed a certain degree of activity.
Take, for example, a Heliobus that only sings opera: ever since it appeared, it's done nothing but perform. And the Ten-Lords Commission has cooperated with its performances. It wouldn't be right to forcibly suppress such an obedient Heliobus.
Because of this, dealing with the Heliobi in Fyxestroll Garden is tricky. Letting them loose causes panic, but forcibly suppressing them isn't quite right either. Lately, some of them had even been sent to the Xianzhou Zhuming to study how to coexist with Heliobi.
But just as they'd sent people out, Pei Guang managed to come up with a way to get along with them? Even got one of them to start working? Of course members of the Ten-Lords Commission had to come see this for themselves.
They'd been observing since Pei Guang began focusing on map creation—partly to see if they could learn anything, and partly to protect him.
Pei Guang was strong and didn't need protecting, but if someone could stop low-level troublemakers from interfering, it would only help him complete his work more efficiently. After all, Hanya knew a thing or two about games.
If Pei Guang was the player, then the process of building the map was like loading a game. If someone interrupted him during that load time, it'd be a terrible experience.
Pei Guang had done so much for both the Luofu and the Ten-Lords Commission: it was only right for them to prevent anyone from breaking his "loading bar."