After Transmigrating into the Cyber Game, I Defeated the Boss and Successfully Rose to the Top

Chapter 2: Sea of Darkness - (2)



Chapter 2: Sea of Darkness - (2)

Kui Xin huddled on her bed, staring at the glowing smartphone screen.

It was already late at night, yet she felt no drowsiness.

The events from earlier were somewhat peculiar, leaving her unsettled and unable to sleep.

Throughout the day, Kui Xin continuously refreshed the forum, browsing through posts by closed beta players. She struggled with understanding foreign languages and intended to screenshot them for translation software. However, her phone indicated that screenshots were prohibited on the webpage. Consequently, Kui Xin had to manually copy the letters onto paper before photographing them for translation.

The number of registered users on the forum increased, as did the quantity of posted threads. Many shared her confusion; some were already questioning the significance of the “Six Pieces Of Advice For ‘Crimson Earth’ Players” and the bloody count of ten thousand survivors pinned at the top of the forum.

Additionally, more beta players received the silver card, just like Kui Xin. Despite not providing their address details on the game’s official website, the silver cards accurately reached their residences.

Kui Xin clicked on the Chinese thread with the highest reply count.

Original Poster (OP): In this era of big data, people have virtually no privacy left. But isn’t what the game’s official team is doing going too far? If they don’t address how they obtained our addresses, I won’t hesitate to pursue legal action for my rights.

The comments below this post were overwhelmingly supportive.

However, immediately following was another reply: “I think there’s something eerie about this, almost like it’s haunted. I live in the countryside, where deliveries happen only every few days, but guess how my game card arrived? My cat went out for a stroll and mysteriously returned with something in its mouth. When I took it from her, I discovered it was my game card, bearing my real name and forum ID—just downright bizarre!”24L: “I also live in the countryside. I found the card while collecting eggs from the chicken coop; it gave me quite a scare…”

36L: “I had ordered an appliance online, and when opening the packaging, I discovered an extra box inside. Initially, I thought it was a merchant’s freebie, but it turned out to be the game card!”

This situation wasn’t just absurd; it bordered on sinister.

The player numbers were assigned based on registration order, and creating the cards would take time. How could someone immediately receive their personalized card after registering? Moreover, the methods by which players received their cards varied widely, casting an inexplicably eerie atmosphere over everyone involved.

Kui Xin exited the thread and clicked open one showcasing the game cards.

The original poster had redacted their true name and player ID from the card before displaying it.

The card shown in the post slightly differed from Kui Xin’s card.

On the silver card’s front side, instead of the image of a mechanical hand, there was a pair of scissors—a pair that seemed sharp and menacing.

Kui Xin’s card bore the prefix “Depriver,” but this poster’s card had the prefix “Proxy” rather than “Depriver.”

Why is that? What differences exist between Depriver and Proxy?

Kui Xin furrowed her brow, pondering deeply.

After browsing the forum for a while, Kui Xin noticed a pattern.

In all the current threads showcasing cards, every single card’s prefix was “Proxy,” with not one bearing the title “Depriver” like hers.

What did the term “Depriver” signify?

The events of the day left Kui Xin in a state of confusion.

She glanced at the time—it was 11:59 PM. In less than a minute, midnight would strike, and the official beta test day would arrive. Kui Xin sighed, rubbing her temples wearily as she prepared to sleep. Tomorrow, she needed to find a part-time job for the summer break to earn some money…

A penniless ghost’s life was just plain, unadorned, and monotonous.

Just as Kui Xin was about to put down her phone, it suddenly vibrated. She focused her gaze and realized that the forum had issued an announcement:

“Detected completion of registration for all ten thousand Closed Beta Players; Game Identity Cards have been distributed.”

“This closed beta is a non-revenue, no-wipe test phase. There are no shortcuts within the game. Please keep the six pieces of advice in mind and explore your own endings.”

“Wishing all players a pleasant gaming experience. Now, let the game begin.”

Let’s start the game!

Caught off guard by these words, Kui Xin felt utterly astonished. Before she could react further, she noticed the surroundings around her changing abruptly.

Her hand went empty as the weight of the phone disappeared. No longer lying sideways on the bed, she found herself standing amidst boundless darkness. When she looked up, there was nothing visible, and she heard not a single sound.

The old house with its peeling walls vanished, the windows emitting a faint streetlight glow were gone, and even the whirring noise of the fan ceased—all returned to tranquility.

Darkness enveloped Kui Xin like a rising tide, swallowing her whole, inch by inch. Instinctively, she tried to cry out for help, but like a drowning person, no sound escaped her lips.

Finally, she lost consciousness.

“You have entered a new world.”

“Please review your assigned identity settings for this world.”

Name: Kui Xin

Affiliation: Federation – Resistance Army

Role: Core member of the Mechanical Dawn Organization; Trainee Field Investigator with the Investigation Department’s Seventh Squad; Federally Wanted Criminal (Class 1); Undercover Agent for the Resistance Army.

Mission: Steal confidential intelligence from the Investigation Department, gain their trust, and provide intelligence support for the Mechanical Dawn’s secret operations.

A faint electronic voice echoed in her ears, and amidst the haze, she seemed to see rows of text flashing before her eyes.

Kui Xin let out a painful gasp, feeling as if her head was about to split open.

It felt like an axe had cleaved through her skull; the pain was so intense it threatened to make her head explode.

“Suture needle,” a man beside her said. “Stitch up her wound. Also, administer another dose of potent analgesic; she’s almost unable to endure it anymore.”

Is she on an operating table? Kui Xin couldn’t open her eyes, but surprisingly, her consciousness remained clear.

She felt a sharp needle penetrate her arm’s skin, injecting medication into her body. The medicine worked remarkably well, effecting swiftly and significantly alleviating her headache.

She wasn’t dreaming; no dream can evoke such vivid sensations.

Kui Xin understood that the current situation was absolutely abnormal, defying all logic. Perhaps she had truly encountered something straight out of fantasy novels or sci-fi films—time travel.

She had been transported from her humble abode to an unknown location.

The injection of painkillers moments ago alleviated Kui Xin’s physical discomfort, allowing her to focus her thoughts. She felt anxious and panicked, but these emotions would not be helpful. Realizing this, she knew she must remain calm.

Just as the Crimson Earth Closed Beta forum announced the start of the game, she suddenly found herself relocated.

Kui Xin surmised that she had crossed over into the game world of “Crimson Earth.”

In this world, she held another identity.

Kui Xin’s concentration triggered the sudden appearance of a light screen within her darkened vision.

On the light screen were details about her character setup in this world, which she had just heard:

“Core member of the Mechanical Dawn Organization, Trainee Field Security Officer for the Federation’s Investigation Department, Seventh Squad, Federally Wanted Criminal Level 1, Resistance Army Undercover Agent.”

Kui Xin thought to herself, “Ah… my identity seems quite complex.”

She meticulously read through it again and again, feeling overwhelmed and at a loss.

What the Mechanical Dawn Organization was, she didn’t understand, but the term “core member” already conveyed its significance. Additionally, the Federation’s Investigation Department… that must be an official organization. Even more alarming was her status as a top-priority fugitive of the Federation—what kind of situation is this? And being labeled as a resistance army mole sounds incredibly treacherous—it could literally cost her life.

Being a traitor has no future!

Having watched countless espionage films, Kui Xin knew that undercover agents rarely met good endings. She felt her prospects were bleak, with a tragic fate seemingly beckoning towards her.

The continuous clanging of medical instruments echoed around her. Vaguely, Kui Xin sensed the stitching needle piercing in and out of her flesh, tugging at her skin.

Her heartbeat, initially rapid upon regaining consciousness, gradually became steady and regular. Her mind began processing, and her emotions settled into calmness amidst her thoughts.

After an indeterminate amount of time, Kui Xin suddenly realized she could control her eyelids; the effects of the anesthesia were wearing off.

The man who had been performing surgery on her remarked, “The medication’s effect has worn off; it’s about time you wake up.”

Kui Xin reluctantly abandoned the idea of feigning unconsciousness further and slowly opened her eyes.

The harsh white light caused discomfort, and there was also a silver source continuously flickering before her vision.

With effort, Kui Xin blinked a few times to adjust to the brightness. She realized that the shimmering silver she saw wasn’t from a lamp, but rather the reflection of the surgeon’s eyeglasses.

She slightly moved her head, rolled her eyes, and looked with bewilderment at the circle of doctors and nurses surrounding the operating table.

“You’re awake?” The bespectacled doctor nodded towards Kui Xin. “The surgery was very successful.”

Kui Xin decided to pretend complete ignorance. Drawing upon her lifetime acting skills, she adopted an expression as if struggling to recall, “Wh-what happened to me?”

The doctor displayed a sympathetic look, gazing at her with pity. “Child, you’ve truly been unlucky. On your first field operation during your internship, you encountered an armed assailant… Alas, not only was the culprit not apprehended, but you suffered a severe head injury, fracturing your skull…”

“Skull… fracture?” Kui Xin outwardly appeared confused, but internally, she was ecstatic.

Such a severe injury provided her with a plausible excuse to feign amnesia with a skull fracture! Since she hadn’t obtained the original body’s memories upon crossing over, there was always a risk of accidentally revealing herself.

“Yes, you had a skull fracture—a large hole in your head, bleeding profusely,” the doctor said kindly. “But don’t worry, out with the old and in with the new!”

“What do you mean by ‘out with the old and in with the new’?” Kui Xin asked, puzzled. “Apologies, it seems I’ve forgotten quite a lot…”

“It’s normal to be slightly disoriented temporarily; it will improve once the anesthesia wears off,” the doctor cheerfully replied. “Your skull fracture was somewhat severe, making repair challenging. We replaced that portion of your skull.” The doctor grinned, “It’s the Federation’s latest technology—an ultra-light alloy skull. Now, after this replacement, you won’t have to fear getting your head cracked during field operations or apprehending criminals anymore!”

Kui Xin blinked in surprise.

Wow, did she just acquire a legendary iron skull? Amazing stuff!

From now on, when engaging in fights, one headbutt will surely leave her opponents dazed and buzzing!

Author’s Note: The players experience group transmigration, moving back and forth between two worlds.

If you encounter inconsistencies or unexplained elements, they may not be bugs but rather foreshadowing.


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