The only person (well, humanoid. Maybe not human, but at least humanoid.) that small could be the kid.
Coughing nervously, Ah'Ming kicked the not-player-anymore to the side and wiped his hands on his pants. It didn't help much, since he couldn't see how dirty it was, but at least his hands were the slightest bit less sticky.
He hesitated for a second, before deciding what to do.
Ah'Ming sprinted over, to reach the kid. He wasn't really sure why, since the kid probably wouldn't rat him out to the rest of the people, but he still did anyways.
The problem was though, when he tried to grab the kid, Ah'Ming's hand went straight through. Which didn't make any sense.
If the kid had been visible, but unable to be touched, it would have been typical ghost mind-magic. But making vibrations in the air?
Suspicious.
His view count was at an all time high, though. Figures. The viewers could probably see in the dark, able to see what he did.
It was really high.
They must really enjoy watching violence.
He couldn't blame them though.
He loved dishing it out.
He was too anxious to look at his amount of likes, though.
As Ah'Ming stood by the child, he noticed something rather funny.
One by one, the shadows slid back into the gaps, retreating into the ruined stacks.
They were probably running off to kill the other players, having deemed this one as DO-NOT-PROVOKE.
Silence followed.
Ah'Ming stood in the wreckage he'd made, surrounded by the evidence of excessive force and poor impulse control. Slowly, his hands softened, claws receding until only scraped knuckles and shaking fingers (from excitement or adrenaline, you pick) remained.
"…Yeah," he said to the kid. "I'm not paying for that."
He kept babbling, trying to get the attention of the kid. "It's not really because I'm a hooligan. Wait, that came out wrong. I'm not a hooligan, I swear! I'm just… a little lacking in the financial department as of now."
Yes.
The kid didn't respond though.
He didn't look over, or blink, or even twitch at all.
Maybe it was just a hologram?
Ah'Ming was kind of getting concerned though. Just a little. The kid had certainly had some spunk in him. It. Them. Whoops. He'd forgotten to ask for pronouns. Whatever.
He tried once more to get the kid's attention, hoping it was maybe… an on purpose ignore?
"Kiddo?" Not the most imaginative or eloquent, but it worked.
The kid didn't answer.
Didn't fidget. Didn't breathe any louder. Didn't do any of the small, reassuring things living people usually did when you talked at them for too long. The kid hadn't done it much, earlier, but still. He had done a little. Just enough to make Ah'Ming think he couldn't be the ghost.
Now though?
Ah'Ming's smile faltered.
"…Hey," he said more quietly. "You good?"
For a heartbeat, nothing changed.
Then, slowly, mechanically, the child's head turned.
Not toward Ah'Ming.
To the side.
The movement was wrong in a way that made his skin prickle. Too smooth. Too deliberate. Like a marionette whose strings had finally been pulled after a long pause. Like a cheese pull that was so impressive it was definitely fake, made of Elmer's glue or something. Unnatural, abnormal.
The kid's gaze fixed on something out of view. Past the smashed shelves. Past the torn stone. Toward a narrow passage half-choked by fallen books and splintered wood.
They stared.
Hard.
Insistently.
"…You want me to look over there," Ah'Ming said.
The kid didn't nod.
Didn't point.
Just kept staring, neck craned at an uncomfortable angle, eyes locked in that direction like they'd been nailed there.
Ah'Ming tried to look over. Well, not really look, since it was still pitch black. Not just an absence of light, but a system imposed limit. Maybe it truly had been an accident he could see in the first "night". Hopefully the system wouldn't try to patch that in the future.
But still, he tried to sense more in that direction.
Nothing.
Only bad vibes.
Heebie-Jeebies.
Very, very strong Heebie-Jeebies.
Ah'Ming's warning bells started up again, quieter this time but more persistent. A dull, aching clang behind his temples.
No system prompt.
No tag.
No reaction until now.
He rubbed his palms against his pants, grounding himself.
"This is how people die in horror movies," he muttered. "They follow the creepy silent child."
The kid blinked once.
Very slowly.
Still staring sideways.
Ah'Ming sighed.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. Counterpoint. If I don't follow the creepy silent child, I'll spend the rest of this instance wondering what I missed."
He glanced back at the wreckage. At the open, ruined space where shadows had learned a valuable lesson. Nothing moved. Nothing watched.
Probably.
"…You're not bait," he told the kid. "If you are, I'm going to be really annoyed."
No response.
Just to double confirm the kid was a hologram though, not like some sort of temporary ghost skill, Ah'Ming stuck his hand into the kid's head. He couldn't really feel a difference, both temperature wise and also any other sign of ghost. Nothing.
Hmm.
It wasn't like the kid had shown any sort of reaction either.
Maybe…
He took a step toward the indicated passage.
The kid's shoulders relaxed. Just a fraction. So it could react! The little bugger—
Ah'Ming noticed.
"…That's not ominous at all," he said dryly, and kept walking.