Players Outside the Game

"800 silver coins equals 40,000. 8,000 silver coins equals 400,000. 80,000 silver coins equals 4 million... four million..." All right. Calculating it like that was fundamentally flawed. You didn't even need an epoch-making, fully immersive virtual reality MMO to understand it; anyone who had played a couple of hit MMORPGs knew exactly how in-game gold exchange rates worked. By the time he could casually list hundreds of thousands of silver coins on the forum for sale, silver coins would have lost much of their current value. However— If he could reach level thirty or forty while others were only level twenty, or if he could drop power armor from orbit in an interstellar dreadnought while others were just getting their hands on their first suits, what did it matter if silver coins depreciated? By the time others had ten thousand silver coins in their pockets, he might already be sitting on hundreds of millions. As long as he stayed in the front rank and remained ahead of the meta, earning fifty silver coins per yuan might not yield him any less than making fifty yuan per silver coin. Besides, whenever a new expansion launched, new equipment dropped, or a massive wave of new players flooded in, the price of silver coins might even spike. Currently, Wasteland OL only had 1,600 closed beta testers, yet pre-registrations had already broken past the one-million mark. Driven entirely by hype, a handful of pie-in-the-sky screenshots, and cinematic trailers, this crowd had somehow managed to bid the price of silver coins sky-high amidst widespread disbelief. And this was only the beginning. Perhaps in the not-so-distant future, everyone would have a helmet of their own. Closing your eyes would mean stepping into a second world, ushering human civilization into a brand-new era. When that day came, regardless of what a silver coin was worth, his returns would far exceed forty thousand. They might even surpass four hundred million... This was just the start! Ye Wei felt his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. For the first time in his life, the thought of going pro crossed his mind. All the way from the computer lab back to his dorm, Ye Wei felt as if he were walking on air, clutching his newfound fortune. He only realized he had forgotten to eat lunch when he reached the dorm door. "Thinking about girls, Wei?" "Piss off." Ye Wei looked up at his roommate sprawled on the bed. The short guy was Sun Qian, a close buddy of his. The two of them used to play battle royales as a duo all the time, though Ye Wei had retired from those games a while ago. Ordinary games simply couldn't satisfy him anymore. "Getting food or what?" His roommate grinned cheekily. "Sure, I'll go if someone's treating." "My treat." Sun Qian's eyes instantly went wide. "Holy crap, for real?" He had just been making his usual joke. He hadn't actually planned on getting out of bed. Hearing that someone was buying lunch, the dorm head and Brother Liu chimed in to join the commotion. "Daddy Wei!" "Brother Wei is the man!" Ye Wei rolled his eyes. "Quit barking and get up." None of the four had eaten yet, so they headed out together toward the food street. They found a well-reviewed lakeside grilled fish joint. Ye Wei took the order slip, casually checked off a few dishes, and found the total came to only two hundred yuan. Usually, spending twenty yuan on takeout pinched his wallet, but right now, it felt ridiculously cheap. After all, two hundred yuan was only four silver coins... *Calm down.* *Can't look at it like that.* Ye Wei took a deep breath, trying his best to convince himself to stay grounded. Because just a moment ago, he had suddenly realized that a few hours earlier, he had eaten a bowl of ramen worth six silver coins. That was probably the most expensive bowl of ramen he would ever eat in his entire life. Seeing their buddy alternating between taking deep breaths and grinning foolishly to himself, the three roommates traded glances, communicating through their eyes. *Wei seems a little off today... Did something happen at home?* *Bro, great minds think alike! I was thinking Wei might have finally gotten a girlfriend!* *Makes sense. When he walked in earlier, he looked totally out of it. There's a good chance he got dumped.* After an entirely mismatched silent exchange, the dorm head's gaze hardened with resolve. He looked at Ye Wei, who was busy picking through fish bones, and rested a heavy right hand on his shoulder. Ye Wei looked up, thoroughly bewildered. "...What?" The dorm head spoke with deadpan solemnity. "Life is long. There's no obstacle you can't overcome, and no person you can't let go of. Chin up, brother. If you really need to cry, Brother Liu can lend you his shoulder." Ye Wei choked, nearly lodging a fish bone in his throat. Brother Liu across the table reacted even more dramatically, spraying out a mouthful of tea. "Get lost! If you want to lend a shoulder, lend your own! Trying to sell off my body for a single meal... unless it's two meals!" "You bastard! What happened to our year-long brotherly bond? Wei is clearly hurting, what's wrong with helping him out?" "Is this 'help' even legal?" "Blegh!" Ye Wei stared at the three of them in utter confusion. "What the hell are you guys on about?" The dorm head let out a dry cough. "Nothing. We just saw you acting weird and got a bit worried." Ye Wei didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "No, no, you guys have got it all wrong. I just... ran into some good news and got a little restless. Give me a minute to process it, and I'll be fine." Sun Qian asked curiously, "What good news?" Brother Liu leaned in excitedly as well. "Spill it! What got you so hyped you look like your kidneys gave out?" "..." Ye Wei didn't know where to begin. They had discussed this topic in the dorm countless times, but even when he showed them the official website, none of them believed him. Show them his bank balance? His social awareness wasn't low enough for that. "Hypothetically... and I'm just saying hypothetically... if there was a virtual reality MMO that was one hundred percent realistic, just how popular do you think it would get?" The three roommates looked at each other. "Brother Wei..." "Yeah?" "Hypothetically, right? Just hypothetically..." Sun Qian said timidly. "If one day you lose your mind—or rather, achieve supreme mastery of your martial arts—could you kill Brother Liu and the dorm head first?" Brother Liu gasped, "Holy shit! You vicious snake!" "Sigh, forget it." Knowing it would end up like this, Ye Wei shook his head helplessly and took a swig of beer. "Just pretend your daddy never said a word." Around two in the afternoon, the group returned to the dorm. A full belly invited sleep, and sleepiness killed all desire to work. The three roommates decided to play a couple of battle royale matches before studying, and they called out to Ye Wei as well. Even though they knew he was probably uninterested and asking was a waste of breath, asking was a matter of principle. Standing on the balcony, Ye Wei weighed his options. Ultimately, he decided to play it safe and transferred 6,000 yuan to his mother's bank card first. Before he could even send a WeChat message explaining it, his mother called. "Weiwei, what's with that six thousand yuan?" Hearing the concern in her voice on the other end, Ye Wei felt a warm rush in his chest. "Mom, I recently... picked up a part-time job. I used my earnings to cover this semester's tuition, so I'm transferring the tuition money you sent me back to you." In the end, Ye Wei couldn't bring himself to say he had made the money playing a game. He could only come up with an excuse for now and explain things gradually down the line. "A part-time job? What kind of job? Why did you suddenly go looking for work?" "Electronic product tester... basically helping test some new hardware," Ye Wei said, his face flushing. The voice on the other end hesitated. "Testing new hardware... Isn't that being a guinea pig?" "It's fine, totally safe. And it's at night... I mean, it doesn't conflict with my classes at all. It won't affect my studies." *Close one!* He had nearly let the truth slip! Ye Wei figured that if he claimed he worked night shifts, his mom would definitely get the wrong idea. Silence lingered on the line for a moment. "...Don't push yourself too hard. You're in university to learn. Our family's financial situation can comfortably support your college education." "Don't worry, Mom. Working part-time is a learning experience too. I've learned a lot from the friends I'm testing with. Besides, I wanted to help out with family expenses. Jiujiu is taking the college entrance exam this June, and she's studying art. Tuition, living expenses, art supplies... There are going to be plenty of expenses coming up." "Oh, and you don't need to send me living expenses from now on either. I've got enough money on me..." After a lengthy explanation, he finally managed to reassure his mother. Hanging up, Ye Wei took a deep breath. After thinking it over, he opened JD, picked out a phone priced around four thousand yuan, and sent the link to his sister. *Jiujiu Loves Pineapple: "?"* *Wei: "Like it?"* *Jiujiu Loves Pineapple: "What are you plotting? Let me state upfront, my pocket money is tiny! If you're starving, I can lend you a little, but buying a phone is out of the question. [Vigilant.jpg]"* *Wei: "Get out of here. Is your brother the kind of guy who mooches off girls? Whatever, I was going to buy it for you, but on second thought, it'd distract you from your studies. We'll talk after you get into Humei."* *Jiujiu Loves Pineapple: "NO! BROTHER!! I WAS WRONG! QAQ"* Looking at the barrage of sticker spam from his sister, Ye Wei's lips curled into an involuntary smile. How should he spend his money now that he had struck it rich? He had never really given that question serious thought. Although he was a top-tier player who dominated Wasteland OL, given the game's sluggish testing rollout, he had never counted on making a living off it. Yet now, his past efforts had yielded tangible returns. While playing games with his buddies, he could also resolve his real-world worries and provide a better life for his family. *Damn it!* *The publisher was firing sugarcoated bullets at him again!* Turning off his phone, Ye Wei glanced back toward the dorm room. His roommates were in a three-man battle royale queue. Intense gunfire flared across their screens as they barked callouts about flanking angles and popping smoke. Still, it was ultimately a game from the "2D era." Those crude graphics held little appeal for him anymore. Looking at the pitch-black helmet resting on his desk, Ye Wei felt a faint warmth swell within him. "Thanks, bro." ... In the same world. On the other side of the vast ocean. Inside a pitch-black room in Virginia, only a single computer screen remained lit. It was the only laptop not connected to the internet. Across the glowing monitor sat a few lines of indifferent text: *Do not try to be clever.* *Do not assume your rules can solve other people's problems.* *You have your own issues to deal with; you would be better off using that time to mind your own business.* *This is a warning.* It was also the sole piece of progress they had made over the past six months. Clutching his messy hair with his left hand, a curly-haired man jostled his mouse in complete despair. "Useless... This machine is fried too." This was the office of a CIA special operations task force codenamed "Wasteland." Their objective was a website that "simply did not exist," yet remained "fully accessible." They had initially stumbled across the site in a gaming community. At first, no one paid it any mind, treating it as nothing more than an inside joke among netizens in the Chinese-speaking sphere. It wasn't until more and more cinematic trailers were released that a senior agent named Fick, driven by curiosity, attempted to find a backdoor into the site—only to gradually realize the severity of the situation. The website didn't exist at all. Yet anyone could access it normally. This impossible anomaly once led him to believe he had discovered extraterrestrials. Initially, the federal government paid little attention to such fringe matters. If their field personnel had to scrutinize every minor oddity, they would work themselves to death. However, considering just how bizarre the phenomenon was, the report worked its way up through the chain of command, and the CIA eventually established a dedicated task force for the case. For Fick, the man put in charge of the team, this was a golden opportunity. As long as he resolved the assignment cleanly, he was certain to earn the Director's favor. And so, they had worked day and night in this dim room for half a year, even teaching themselves Chinese. Regrettably, they had made zero headway. The other party's server security was watertight, completely devoid of flaws, giving the cybersecurity experts Fick brought in massive headaches. Recently, however, an opening had finally appeared. In the "Beta 0.2" update, the target opened up in-game currency trading for Wasteland OL. It was common knowledge that a newly deployed system was always at its most vulnerable. Weren't those update patches constantly fixing bugs? Fick had every reason to believe that this newly launched "Silver Coin Trading Platform" would become the breach they needed to bring down the walls of Troy! To ensure the mission's success, Fick assembled the strongest IT team he could find, ordering them to hack the website's servers at all costs and track down the physical location of the anonymous enterprise. If possible, securing data related to the "Dream" system would be the crowning achievement of his career! Regardless of whether they succeeded, they had to try. Besides, the other side had always adopted a passive, laid-back stance, ignoring their frequent probes. Fick assumed they simply didn't dare cross the mighty United States. Yet Fick never could have anticipated that the price of a single Bitcoin would be the total collapse of their entire infrastructure. Not only had the opposition wiped their servers out, but they had also casually purged every shred of data stored inside. Staring at the dead terminals across the room, Fick felt his heart bleeding, his scalp tingling with dread, and his limbs going cold. He could already envision his superior's furious, screaming tirade. "All 147 servers wiped... It's over." Pulling his hands entirely away from the keyboard, another IT specialist seated in front of a monitor finally abandoned all struggle. "Our opponent is a monster. What's demoralizing isn't how brilliant their methods are, but that their technology is beyond my comprehension." "Do you know what I just went through? I felt like a caveman defending a fortress with a stone spear while a giant sent by Odin stood before me. I wasn't even sure if I'd angered it, but it reached out toward me anyway..." He held up his right pinky finger, babbling incoherently. "...At most, a single pinky finger. Nothing more. And even that exceeded the absolute threshold of what our servers could withstand." Fick swallowed hard. "Don't psych yourself out..." He conceded there might be a gap between them in information technology, but at most, it was the difference between a T-64 and a Leopard 2. It couldn't possibly be as pathetic as a Sherman facing modern armor. And yet— The deep insecurity in his chest caused his tone to waver into a question. The IT specialist shook his head. "I'm not psyching myself out... Forget it, you wouldn't understand even if I explained it. Frankly speaking, this was an asymmetric fight. They didn't win honorably, and there's no shame in my loss." Leaving those words hanging, he slumped back against his chair in sheer exhaustion. His expression carried an air of complete resignation. "I wanted to ask just now—who turned off the lights?" Glancing at the darkened ceiling fixture, and then at the dead charging indicator on the laptop, he suddenly frowned. "A blackout?" What was the point of a power outage now? Fick pulled out his phone. No signal. Right then, his subordinate hurried in from the hallway, his face pale with disbelief and sheer terror. "The power's out. Not just our building—the entire state! Damn it, the cell towers are down. Switching over to backup generators will take time, and the entire department is in chaos. I don't want to connect the two events, but it happened just seconds ago." Looking at the man who had just entered, deathly silence gripped the room. A blackout... Across the entire state. Compared to the economic fallout of a statewide blackout, their hundred-plus fried servers suddenly seemed utterly trivial... Fick's throat bobbed. Though it was only March, the room felt suffocatingly hot. His thoughts were a tangled mess. He couldn't wrap his head around it. In all their previous cyberattacks, the other party had acted timid and hesitant, never striking back. Why had they suddenly lashed out this time? Looking back now, it wasn't that the other side hadn't dared to cross them; they simply hadn't cared enough to bother. But this time, they had retaliated without hesitation or restraint, throwing the breaker on the entire state. Wasn't this going too far? The curly-haired man at the computer slammed his fist onto the desk in fury. "This is a terrorist attack!" Fick shot him a sharp look and cleared his throat softly. "Do you have proof? If you don't have proof... you'd better not link the two together." The moment they officially connected the blackout to the cyberattack, they would be forced to issue a formal response. And the moment a formal response was issued, he, as the person in charge, would have to take the fall for the catastrophic losses. Why invite that upon himself? Besides, nobody had claimed responsibility. The generators kicked in, communications were restored, and light returned to the room. Yet the atmosphere remained stiflingly oppressive. An agent rubbed his temples, muttering with a massive headache. "...Just what kind of company is this?" Fick wanted to ask the exact same question. With godlike technology like this, they were using it to... make games? How was that any different from getting reincarnated into the past just to play Dota? *The helmets...* *If only we could get our hands on one of those helmets.* Fick's mind stirred. If they could trace the wallet that had received the Bitcoin, they could at least identify one player. Even if the target was across the ocean and sending personnel directly was inconvenient, there were countless ways to indirectly co-opt citizens of developing countries— *Wait.* A bead of cold sweat suddenly rolled down Fick's forehead. Just now, he had realized he might be contemplating something extraordinarily dangerous. Getting a helmet wasn't hard. But simply acquiring a helmet wouldn't solve anything. As for the potential consequences, they were completely unpredictable. Those madmen had the capability to paralyze an entire state's power grid within seconds, while his side couldn't even pinpoint where the breach had occurred, let alone prove they were responsible. Perhaps... He needed to carefully consider the true meaning behind that "warning," as well as the risk of that "vulnerability" spreading from the federal power grid to other critical infrastructure. Reorganizing his thoughts, Fick took a deep breath and looked around at his colleagues in the room. "There's a flaw in our strategy of hacking their servers... I don't doubt our capability to breach them, but there's no need to take that risk." "The technological prowess they've demonstrated clearly doesn't belong to any organization or agency known to our intelligence network. Otherwise, someone would have deployed it long ago." "It's equally clear that we have no direct conflict of interest... Perhaps adopting a softer approach would better demonstrate our sincerity." Though everyone wore bizarre expressions, nobody objected. "I'm glad we're in agreement." Fick breathed a sigh of relief, nodded, and continued in a milder tone. "I might have put it rather diplomatically just now. What I mean is..." "How about we fill out an application form first?" ... A similar scene was playing out elsewhere. Across the ocean. In a certain location. A spacious, brightly lit room remained dead quiet. Files were piled high on the desks, and the wastebasket overflowed with cigarette butts, several spilling onto the floor. A dozen people were quietly busy at work. Judging by the dark circles under their eyes, they had been working overtime for days on end. Still, they would probably get a day off tomorrow. Likely unable to withstand their relentless grind, only a single computer remained un-crashed. Or so they chose to believe. In truth, rather than obsessing over how that "nonexistent website" worked, they were far more interested in how those "helmets that shouldn't exist" were materializing in players' hands out of thin air. That was a far more serious matter than mere economics. "Can we trace the guy?" "We can, but we can't." The senior officer frowned. "What does that mean?" The younger officer sighed. "All records prior to April of last year have vanished. There's no trace of deletion; they simply don't exist. He's like a phantom that appeared out of nowhere. Our only leads are that QQ number and a few chat logs dating back to last April. He didn't bother hiding them—or rather, he didn't care enough to bother." Another colleague frowned. "He must have social ties, right? What about his account friends? The registered phone number?" Compared to "Xiao Qi," who didn't even have a social media account, the planner codenamed "Ah Guang" was likely their sole lead. The young man fell silent for a moment. "That's the creepiest part." "We know a lot, but we can't find anywhere he worked, nor can we find his parents. We turned the Jiangcheng University archives and the local talent markets upside down, but there's zero trace of his files. Either the records were fabricated, or they were altered... He vanished. In fact, he never even appeared before our eyes, as if a UFO swooped down from the sky and beamed him up along with every trace of his existence." Yet in stark contrast to this eerie phenomenon... Identifying the players was remarkably easy. The website itself was an impenetrable black box, but monitoring group chat messages always turned up clues. Their task force operated at a very high clearance level, and the nature of the case was exceptional. Ordinary investigators would need formal warrants and procedures to look into such sensitive matters, but they could access the records directly. "Beyond chat logs, we have bank transfer records. We can't track activity inside the site, but we can flag all transfers of matching amounts during the same time window for screening. Buying in-game items isn't illegal, but we can ask them to cooperate with our investigation... Should we reach out to them?" The elderly man who had remained silent suddenly spoke up. "Speaking of banks, I was just wondering—what if something goes wrong with the banking system?" The young man froze, asking nervously, "The, the banks? Surely not..." The old man pondered for a moment. "It's just a hypothesis. Our actions might cause unnecessary trouble for our comrades in the banking sector." The square-faced man who had stayed quiet this entire time finally chimed in. "There's really no need." Seeing everyone turn toward him, he continued at an unhurried pace. "First, we have to acknowledge that their information technology is superior to ours." The middle-aged man in glasses sitting by the computer showed a trace of shame. "I'm sorry..." The square-faced man shook his head. "It's not your fault. They possess technology we've never even heard of, capable of interfacing with dreams. Using tech like that to steal state secrets would be child's play." "I've even wondered whether extraterrestrials might be using this method to evaluate our civilization's development and mental state, before deciding whether to..." As he spoke, the square-faced man drew a finger across his throat. The people in the office exchanged looks. Soon, however, they realized he was joking. The old man gave a dry cough, lightening the mood. "Extraterrestrials is stretching it a bit..." It was simply too absurd. Even if it might very well be the closest guess to the truth. "It's merely a hypothesis. Just now, my colleagues informed me that a massive blackout occurred across Virginia, on the other side of the ocean... Not just a district, but the entire state. Their power grid was down for a full hour, just across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. Their public statement blamed aging infrastructure for a utility system failure that was restored after emergency repairs, but only they know the real story." The square-faced man paused in thought before continuing. "They know where we are, and they've even shown a card from their hand. Setting aside that dream system built on cognitive neural mapping, their achievements in information technology are likely at least half a century ahead of ours... maybe even more." "I still reserve the possibility that the operator behind this game is extraterrestrial—or rather, an off-world civilization. This simply isn't Earth-based technology. I'm not the only one who holds this view." No technology could appear out of thin air without a theoretical foundation, yet that website's existence defied their understanding. Laymen might not see how it differed from an ordinary website, but to those who truly understood, it was like an isolated singularity. The two sides were operating in completely different dimensions. And that was precisely why the situation was so thorny. The veteran officer cleared his throat. "Looks like we need to bring someone from the aerospace department onto our team." Someone nearby cracked a joke to ease the tension. "And increase the budget for the Nantianmen Project while we're at it?" The bespectacled middle-aged man by the computer still felt unwilling to concede. "Technology capable of changing the world like this... If only we could—" The square-faced man coughed lightly. "Returning to the topic at hand, I believe proactive interference is the least sensible choice. Someone else has already taken a fall on our behalf; there's no need for us to stumble into the same river behind them." The old man frowned slightly. "So we just leave it alone?" The square-faced man continued. "We don't know their motive for running this game, we don't understand the underlying principles, and we don't even know... whether they're human." "However, they clearly understand us. Just months after the planner codenamed 'Ah Guang' vanished from the face of the earth, Wasteland OL launched as an MMORPG." "And his explanation to fellow netizens in the group chat was simply that he had changed jobs." "If we assume they come from beyond the solar system, this would mark our first contact with an extraterrestrial civilization. We represent more than just our own civilization; compared to the catastrophic consequences arrogance might bring, I favor the most cautious form of contact." "Why not observe a little longer?" "They have already demonstrated the sincerity of their civilization. While maintaining our vigilance, we should also extend the courtesy expected of civilized people." "Regardless of their ultimate goal, the game has only progressed to Beta. Perhaps, coming from a distant world, they are attempting to convey some message or metaphor through 'gaming'—a cultural medium we can understand." "At least for now, this doesn't indicate hostility. And if it implies assistance, we stand to benefit enormously." The old man pondered for a long time before nodding. "Interrupting someone mid-sentence is indeed bad manners. We should at least let them finish speaking." The person beside him nodded in agreement. "I think so too." The young man raised his hand. "I object. I'm worried foreign forces might target those players. At the very least, we should place those 'players' under protection." The square-faced man remained silent, while the old man smiled and shook his head. "You're underestimating our opponents." *If you can't have it, destroy it?* What kind of third-rate soap opera plot was that? If their rivals were truly that foolish, they would have won long ago. As for locking down the players... That was even less necessary. Pre-registrations had already surpassed a million and were still climbing. Existing technical means could only track who had shared the link; they had no way of knowing who had accessed the site or when, let alone who would receive the next helmet. That place was a black hole for information, far more mysterious than the world beyond the solar system. The other party had chosen them. They could just as easily choose someone else. The young man let out a sigh. "If only we could get our hands on a helmet." The square-faced man smiled. "That thing... it's useless. I had people examine it; the internal structure is so simple it's baffling. We don't even understand the foundational principles. As for reverse-engineering it... you might as well treat that as a joke." The old man looked at him in astonishment. "Where did you get a helmet?" The square-faced man smiled sheepishly. "It was quite a coincidence, honestly. I suppose I just discovered it relatively early. I just... filled out the questionnaire normally: age, major, skills, games I'd played, and some multiple-choice questions younger folks might find interesting. Then I clicked YES." To be fair, he hadn't played many games—mostly older titles from the early days, like Legend. He had never expected to actually get selected. The other side didn't seem to care at all. The helmet had simply shown up right outside his front door. In fact, he had already been playing for some time. That was precisely why higher-ups had assigned him to assist this task force from the very beginning. The old man froze. "You filled out the form?" "Does filling it out make any difference? Unless they completely expunge my files from the system, our records are nothing more than graffiti on a wall to them." Pausing, the square-faced man looked at the blinking monitor. "I even have a feeling..." "Sitting behind closed doors holding this meeting today, we are far from the only ones in the audience."