I guessed the Slit-Mouthed Woman had probably been dead for years, judging by her parched, rough skin. The moment I applied the moisturizer, it was instantly absorbed into her skin like water in a desert.

I couldn't help but advise her, "Even though you're a ghost, you should still take care of your skin. Some ghosts have been dead for over 40 years and still look like they passed away just 20 years ago."

The Slit-Mouthed Woman sighed. "This place isn't like the living world. Skincare and makeup products are scarce, and only the rich can afford them.

"In our horror game, the cosmetics are provided by the studio, but because our instance performs so poorly, our budget is tiny. That's why our makeup never looks good and fails to draw in viewers."

I caught a word in her explanation. "Viewers?"

She gave a small clap. "Exactly. The live comments in horror games aren't from humans—they come from ghosts watching the stream. It's the same as how you humans watch reality shows."

I raised a brow. "So there are a lot of ghosts tuning in?"

"Plenty," she said. "As standards of living and productivity in the underworld improve, more ghosts are refusing to reincarnate. The underworld is overcrowded, inflation is rampant, and reincarnation is decided by lottery. The stranded ghosts need something to do, and watching horror games has become their favorite pastime."

I prepped her skin with a primer and meticulously hid the splits at the corners of her mouth with wax. Once I applied the foundation, she could almost pass for a completely normal person at first glance.

"They're actually covered!" she exclaimed, touching her lips in amazement. "The previous makeup artists never managed to do this."

I smiled. "This is special effects makeup. Not many people know how to do it."

She pointed at her neck. "Make sure to cover the livor mortis marks here too, please."

I complied. Noticing her slightly flat nose, I added contour and highlight, instantly giving her face a more defined look.

Finally, I chose a soft, glossy peach-pink lip tint. It made her look like an innocent, pure young woman. The contrast would make her terrifying grin all the more shocking when she revealed it to the players.

"I haven't looked this good in a long time…"

The Slit-Mouthed Woman looked in the mirror and traced her cheeks. For the first time, her expression lit up with genuine confidence.

In her wedding gown, with every detail of her makeup perfectly done, she exuded an undeniable presence—like a pale pink rose, delicate and pure at first glance, yet carrying hidden thorns that hinted at danger beneath the surface.

As soon as she appeared, the live comments exploded.

"Is that really the Slit-Mouthed Woman?"

"Did they change the makeup artist? This look is stunning!"

"I love watching players get scared silly, but pure horror can get repetitive. This new look makes it feel refined and intense."

The Slit-Mouthed Woman scanned the live comments, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. Then, as if granting a rare favor, she turned to me.

"You don't need to join the game. Stay here in my room and watch the live stream. When the time comes, the instance will resolve on its own."

I felt a surge of relief and excitement—I couldn't have asked for anything better.

…

The Slit-Mouthed Woman wasn't the only bride in The Devil's Bride, but with no makeup artist available, the others were left to their own devices.

The other brides' makeup was dated. The darker the eyeshadow, the more violent they were supposed to appear, but it only made them look battered and tired, stripping away any hint of sinister elegance.

In stark contrast, the Slit-Mouthed Woman's makeup balanced innocence with an eerie, captivating allure. Next to her, the other brides looked utterly dreadful.

"The Slit-Mouthed Woman's makeup is mesmerizing! If I were a player, I'd fall for it too."

"The Slit-Mouthed Woman used the beauty card, and I ended up right in her trap."

The once-empty live stream gradually filled with viewers.

The Slit-Mouthed Woman feigned fragility while manipulating the players effortlessly. Under her misdirection, some players died, while some were injured. When her true face was revealed, the bloody splits reaching her ears and the hunger and disdain in her gaze made her utterly terrifying.

She went completely berserk.

Against all odds, The Devil's Bride surged into the top ten in viewership.

The live comments were full of praise.

"I'm declaring the Slit-Mouthed Woman my new favorite! I'm heading straight to SpiritStream to vote for her!"

"It's a shame the other brides didn't keep up with her styling. If they had, this instance would've looked even better."

"Slit-Mouthed Woman, please make this look permanent!"

Seeing the compliments made me swell with pride. I was just a small, no-name makeup artist on the set, usually stuck doing makeup for minor roles.

Everyone said my style was too bold—too mysterious and eerie—and just didn't fit with heroic characters.

I never imagined it would be so well received in a horror game. This was the first time my work had earned this much recognition.

As the game approached its end, the Slit-Mouthed Woman returned. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw me. "By the way, what's your name?"

"Luna Frost."

"Okay, Luna. I've already spoken to the boss. We're hiring you as the permanent makeup artist for our instance!"

"I…"

I was about to say no, but the words died on my lips when she mentioned the salary they were offering.

"You'll earn a monthly salary of ten thousand, plus a one-thousand-dollar commission per ghost NPC per time."

My jaw nearly dropped.

As a low-level makeup artist on a film set, I worked myself to the bone each month just to earn five thousand. Even if this was a horror game, money was money. Ghosts or not, there was no way I was turning down that pay.

"Is your in-game currency the same as the living world?" I asked.

"Don't worry," she said. "We go through Aether Bank. It's connected to all major banks, so you can send it directly to your account."

I relaxed. "Perfect."

"The instance runs once a week. The ghosts arrive a few hours before the players, and that's when you do the makeup."

She handed me a stylish wrist device.

"This is a summoning device. When it lights up, bring your makeup kit and come to work."

I secured the device around my wrist. When I looked up, the world around me had already shifted. I was standing in the middle of a crowded city street.

Everything that had just happened felt unreal, like a fading dream. The summoning device on my wrist was the only proof that it had all been real.

My phone rang all of a sudden. I answered, only to hear my superior, Jenny Sawyer, shout furiously, "Luna Frost, where have you been? Why aren't you here yet?"

I grabbed my makeup case and bolted instinctively. "I'm on my way! Traffic was terrible. I'm running—"

She snapped, "Do whatever you want! With your pathetic skills, you can't even do decent makeup for a terrible actor. If it weren't for my leniency, you would've been gone a long time ago!"

Her cutting words made me falter. This wasn't the first time she had put me down. Every actor I had worked with loved the looks I created for them. And yet, Jenny never stopped undermining me, as if keeping me beneath her somehow proved her own worth.

I had been rising before sunrise, slogging through long days for barely half a wage, all while taking her endless verbal abuse. I was done.

"Fine, fire me!" I said firmly. "I've already gotten a new job where my skills are actually valued. You may never recognize me, but someone else will."

"You—"

Before she could finish, I hung up. The thrill of confidence hit me with full force. Ironically, it sprang from the one horror game everyone else avoided.

…

To master my craft and do my job well as the horror game's makeup artist, I spent the week studying and trying out different ghost-ready makeup looks.

When the summoning device blinked to life a week later, I grabbed my makeup case and stepped into the instance.

Before me stood a row of brides. Alongside the Slit-Mouthed Woman were wraiths, ghouls, and vampires.