Is This Guy for Real?

All right. As it turned out, he had misunderstood. The blind boxes really had yielded "five" rewards. The system hadn't pulled a dirty trick like swallowing his loot, nor was there any "thank you for playing" nonsense. It was just that the prize from the fifth blind box had been buried beneath the other four… Sitting in front of Chu Guang right now was a vacuum-packed compressed biscuit weighing one hundred grams net, along with three twenty-five-gram lollipops—apple, banana, and mango flavored, respectively. And a slip of paper. The biscuit's packaging was intact with no bloating. While the expiration and production dates remained a mystery, it probably wouldn't kill anyone. This stuff was a real treasure. The nutrition facts listed five hundred kilocalories. Whether eaten dry or boiled in a pot into porridge, it was enough to fill his stomach. As for the lollipops, while their calorie count wasn't low, they offered zero satiety. Still, for someone so poor he was practically down to gnawing tree bark, Chu Guang considered this a major win. Then again, this system was absurdly stingy. Was it terrified he might actually eat his fill or something, brushing him off with such pathetic rations? Standing beside the delivery chute, Chu Guang stuffed the food into his backpack, then picked up the slip of paper that had slid out on the conveyor belt and unfolded it. Words were written on it, penned in the language of this world. [*…What creature in this world is better suited to being harvested like leeks than players?*] [*Not only do they possess boundless curiosity, but they are also perpetually enthusiastic, braving hardships without succumbing to despair over their immediate plight. Of course, the absolute best part is that they even view problems from the publisher's perspective, eagerly helping the operators reap them!*] [*Packaging this device as a game makes me an absolute genius!*] [*—The First Manager of Shelter 404; (Please place this note in the fifth novice blind box. This is an easter egg for my successor!)*] Chu Guang: "…" To be honest, far from feeling the slightest bit of pleasant surprise from finding an easter egg, he felt thoroughly speechless. Still… What did it mean by *device*? "Xiao Qi." "What is it, Master?" "Do you know the first manager?" "No. My core program was only activated when you entered the shelter. According to the records in the shelter's database, the previous manager handed over operational clearance more than a century ago." Chu Guang pressed further. "Which year specifically?" Xiao Qi answered. "January 1, 2157." The war had ended in 2129, plunging human civilization into the Wasteland Era. The year 2157 was the twenty-eighth year of that era. Which meant… One hundred eighty-three years ago! Chu Guang had been sensitive to numbers since childhood. Crucial information like this was something he never easily forgot once memorized. "In other words, a hundred and eighty-three years ago, the first manager invented this device capable of projecting consciousnesses from a parallel world into clones, packaged it as a game, but for some reason never used it, right?" Perhaps it was because of the nuclear winter. Or perhaps other factors had prevented the shelter from meeting its activation requirements. Regardless, someone from over a century ago was almost certainly dead by now. Xiao Qi replied. "Most likely." "What was his name? That first manager." Chu Guang suddenly found himself curious about the man's identity. Coming up with those perverse, tongue-in-cheek settings didn't necessarily make someone a genius. But to single-handedly invent such mind-bogglingly advanced black technology after the collapse of civilization went far beyond what the word "genius" could capture. Projecting consciousnesses from a parallel world into this plane and housing them inside clones acting as vessels… Chu Guang couldn't begin to fathom how that was even achieved. Technology beyond his comprehension was indistinguishable from magic. "I don't know either. There are no detailed records concerning him in the accessible database. Could they have been deleted?" "Forget it… asking you is useless." Chu Guang felt a faint pang of disappointment, but he wasn't discouraged. At present, the shelter was only unlocked down to the B1 level. As his missions progressed, the secrets buried deep within this shelter would eventually reveal themselves in full. Tossing the slip of paper into the computer desk's drawer, Chu Guang tightened his backpack straps. Noticing his movement, Xiao Qi, squatting in the corner of the wall, asked, "Master, are you leaving?" The monotone voice sounded oddly pitiful. "Yeah. The players won't log in for another three days. Standing guard here accomplishes nothing, so I might as well head back and prepare." This dump claimed to be a shelter, yet it didn't even have food or water. Right now, all Chu Guang had on him was half a palm-sized flatbread, half a bottle of water, plus the compressed biscuit and lollipops he had just redeemed with his reward points. These meager supplies wouldn't last him three days. He had a crude little den in a nearby survivor settlement where he kept some supplies and handy tools. Chu Guang planned to head back, pack up, and gradually bring over whatever he could salvage. From now on, this place would be his new base of operations. "By the way, Xiao Qi." "Yes, Master?" "I need a favor." Pausing briefly, Chu Guang continued, "Our official website is too bare-bones. I need you to add forum functionality, as well as a lore archive and an encyclopedia. Can you manage that?" Simply put, he wanted players to understand this "game" better. Trying to bait people into joining purely by word of mouth was a tall order. At the very least, he had to put up a decent front. "Of course. You possess administrative editing rights for the official site. Aside from the pre-registration page, you may add subpages or modify existing ones." "Great. I'll leave it to you, then." "Leave it to me!" Xiao Qi seemed delighted to receive a task from its master, its speaker volume even ticking up by half a decibel. Of course, that might just have been Chu Guang's imagination. "Master, when will you return?" Chu Guang considered it and said, "Three days at the latest. If everything goes smoothly, maybe before tomorrow evening." * * * In the real world, inside the Ox and Horse Club group chat. The fellow named "Light" had vanished without a trace after dropping the website link. Nobody knew whether he had gone offline or was lurking in the shadows, peeping at the screen. The conversation about a "fully immersive virtual reality game" had nearly run its course. But just a few minutes ago, this guy's slick maneuver of setting up a private group chat dragged the main chat's focus right back to the subject. Quitting Smoking: [Holy crap, is this guy for real?] Quitting Smoking was another active regular in the group, though not an admin. Fleeting White Horse: [Yeah. After you guys hit pre-register, he made a small group and pulled us admins inside. (scratches head)] As the group owner, Fleeting White Horse was naturally included. Hearing this, the chat instantly boiled over. [Damn it! Shady backroom deals!] [Anyone know the company Brother Light joined? I want to report him for dirty trading! (funny)] [Stop bullshitting, what company?! Last year some VR startup on the domestic market lost so much money the boss got thrown behind bars! VR hasn't been the hot trend in ages!] [Keep your voices down, Ah Guang might be lurking right now. (funny)] [Seriously, what's his angle? Doing all this just for a prank?] [Who the hell knows? Maybe he's funneling his own brothers into an illegal gambling site, waiting for the numbers to swell so he can harvest us like leeks!] [I knew this guy was bad news! Just kick him.] The conversation was gradually turning sour. It was even veering toward personal attacks. Ye Wei frowned as he watched. Just as he was about to speak up, he saw the group owner step on the brakes. *(Group muted by administrator)* Fleeting White Horse: [Calm down, everyone. Newer members might not know Ah Guang well, but he's a decent guy. His aim is garbage, he's basically blind, and he sucks at games, but otherwise he's fine.] Ample Time Ahead: [Agreed. I don't believe Ah Guang would stray into running gambling scams. Right now, we're just trying to verify if his account was hacked. If it was, the admin team will handle it. I'll recall the messages in a bit. Let's switch topics, folks. (smile)] *(Group unmuted)* With both the owner and an admin stepping forward, everyone gave them face and dropped the subject, quickly drifting off toward the UEFA European Championship. Ye Wei didn't watch sports—at least not soccer. Glancing at the clock in the bottom-right corner of his screen, he saw it was already 18:00, right around dinner time. After uploading his unfinished major assignment to cloud storage, Ye Wei pushed his chair back, stood up, and headed downstairs to the cafeteria. He ordered a plate of spicy chicken fried rice and savored every bite. When he leisurely returned to the dorm, the sight of a cardboard box sitting on his desk stopped him dead in his tracks. A delivery package? "Ah Wei, what did you buy? Why's it so huge?" A roommate leaned over, and the other two animals turned their attention toward the desk as well. Everyone had basic manners. While Ye Wei wasn't in the dorm earlier, they couldn't touch his things. Now that he was back, that restraint vanished. They were all burning with curiosity about what he had ordered. "I didn't buy anything… Who delivered this?" The three roommates exchanged glances. "Didn't notice…" "Didn't notice either." "No idea. I was out grabbing takeout." Huh. Spooky! Packages were normally dumped at the pickup station beneath the dorm building, yet today one had been brought right to his door. What was even spookier was that Ye Wei was certain he had never specified his desk assignment in any online shopping address. Were courier delivery guys really that cracked these days? Tearing open the cardboard box, he found a helmet lying inside. It looked strikingly similar to a motorcycle helmet, coated inside and out with matte black paint, looking thoroughly unremarkable. If there was anything peculiar about it, it was the complete lack of a face shield. Once put on, it fully enclosed the entire head, blocking out everything. At first glance, Ye Wei almost thought it was an iron pot. "What is this thing?" The guy at the next desk picked up the helmet, fiddled with it, pulled it over his head, took it off, and handed it back to Ye Wei, looking utterly bewildered. "You're asking me? Who am I supposed to ask?" *Could it really be a pot?* Completely baffled, Ye Wei decided to try slipping it over his head as well. His field of vision was pitch-black. Yet just as he was about to take it off, a pale blue light suddenly pierced through the darkness, striking his retinas. [Awaiting game activation: 71 hours, 19 minutes] This… Could this be that gaming helmet?! Holy shit. Did shipping really move this fast? Ye Wei was entirely dumbfounded. "Didn't any of you see that?" Pulling off the helmet, Ye Wei stared at the roommate who had worn it a moment ago. However, that roommate was looking back at him with equal bewilderment. "See what?" Ye Wei said frantically, "The countdown! It said 'Awaiting game activation'!" "What? This thing is supposed to be a gaming console?" "Out of the way, Brother Liu's got bad eyes. Let me look." Another roommate took the helmet and put it on. After a moment, however, he removed it looking just as perplexed as the first guy. "Nothing there." "My turn." All three roommates tried it in turn, and without exception, none of them saw a thing. Exchanging looks, they turned toward Ye Wei in unison, their expressions bizarre. "Bro." Ye Wei: "…What?" "Maybe… you should get your head checked at the hospital?" "Get lost!" Cursing under his breath, Ye Wei snatched the helmet back and stubbornly put it on once more. The small pale blue text appeared right on cue. [Awaiting game activation: 71 hours, 17 minutes] The countdown had advanced by two minutes. Not only that… At that exact moment, he suddenly realized that no matter how he shifted the helmet, that line of countdown text remained anchored dead center in his field of vision. Even when he closed his eyes. Ye Wei took off the helmet, looking as if he had seen a ghost. Holy shit… He really had seen a fucking ghost!