novelraw Chapter 27: Sea of Darkness - (27)
Chapter 27: Sea of Darkness - (27)
Kui Xin gradually regained her composure.
Jumping out of bed without even putting on slippers, she rushed to the window and abruptly pulled aside the curtains. In the rundown old neighborhood, the sole remaining functional streetlight stubbornly shone, illuminating the path home for those returning late at night.
Underneath the dim yellow glow of the streetlamp, the hazy outlines of trash bins could be seen. The stone-paved ground bore numerous cracks, while surveillance cameras silently operated throughout the alleyways. The entire neighborhood was quiet, devoid of people.
It seemed like just an ordinary night, with people returning home as usual, sleeping soundly, and awaiting breakfast before heading to work—the start of another routine day.
However, Kui Xin knew that the seven-day adventure she experienced was not a dream; it genuinely happened to her.
Holding her breath, she silently whispered within her mind, “System?”
The game panel’s interface instantly flickered into view.
Her skill descriptions and the superhuman abilities she acquired during her time in the other world were displayed without any omissions. Unbeknownst to her, the port explosion case’s investigation progress had increased to 25%. All the information was readily available at a glance.
Kui Xin gasped sharply, feeling her heart momentarily stop.
She had returned to the First World, yet she could still summon the game interface. Whether she was entering the game world or returning to reality, this Game System accompanied her… So, is the boundary between the game and reality still clear?No holographic game could match the realism of “Crimson Soil.” Kui Xin understood that the world within was genuine, but she must treat it as a game, striving to complete it and reach its conclusion by all means necessary. The Game System served as one of the markers distinguishing the game from reality, reinforcing her conviction and preventing her from becoming lost.
But now, she also had a Game System in the real world!
People could easily distinguish between games and life because items from within a game couldn’t be brought into reality, nor could objects from reality enter the game. In a game, death was reversible through respawning, allowing players to mercilessly slaughter NPCs without any psychological burden. However, in the real world, everyone behaved normally; no one would engage in such reprehensible acts.
“Perhaps it’s not as bad as I’m thinking…” Kui Xin murmured.
She walked over to her desk, retrieved a utility knife from her stationery pouch, and, without hesitation, sliced her finger with it.
Blood flowed out, but the wound healed within two seconds!
This time, Kui Xin completely lost any lingering hope for coincidence. After leaving the Second World, she still possessed the extraordinary ability of Flesh Regeneration.
The boundary between game and reality has been shattered! The abilities gained within the game continue to function in the real world. The lines separating truth from illusion and game from reality have become blurred.
It was akin to Kui Xin originally playing “Cyber Online,” only to discover that upon exiting the game, the Game System followed her out. Her reality transformed into “Earth Online”; the world itself became gamified.
The First World and Second World became two interconnected game realms!
What’s even more terrifying is that “Cyber Online” isn’t a single-player game; it’s multiplayer, with Kui Xin being just one of many players. The number of people playing “Cyber Online” equals the number of individuals playing “Earth Online.”
If other players acquired superhuman abilities in the Second World, they would also bring these powers back to the First World.
Kui Xin faintly anticipated that after tonight, awakened players possessing such extraordinary capabilities would cause significant disruptions to the First World order.
She took a few steps backward and sat on her bed, retrieving the silver card from the bedside table.
The text on the card was unmistakably clear: “Depriver – Kui Xin. Code Number: 233.”
It resembled an identity card, serving as both a label and a designation. ‘Depriver’ indicated her class, ‘Kui Xin’ was her true name, and the code number acted as her identification number. From the moment she received this silver card, things began to feel off-kilter.
This card seemed like a pass, granting Kui Xin the ability to traverse between worlds.
Kui Xin put down the card, picked up her phone lying next to the pillow with its screen turned off, and entered the lock screen password.
The smartphone screen lit up, displaying the current time as July 27th, 00:02.
She had entered the game at midnight and exited at midnight. After spending seven days in the game, it seemed that time in the real world hadn’t moved at all, frozen completely.
In the class group chat, several students who stayed up late were fervently discussing their messages, flooding the screen. Kui Xin caught sight of their conversation topic, which coincidentally revolved around “Crimson Earth.” They eagerly hoped for the game’s developers to swiftly commence the second phase of closed beta testing so they could play it sooner.
Play the game? It was more like risking their lives.
Kui Xin let out a bitter smile.
Pausing momentarily, she logged into the Crimson Earth Closed Beta Players’ forum.
The chilling survival count of 9,630 players immediately caught her eye.
After just one week in the Second World, over three hundred out of ten thousand players had died.
Kui Xin was given a high-stakes starting scenario upon crossing over, becoming a double agent constantly walking on thin ice, always facing imminent danger. Chai Jian also began with a high-stakes setup, but if he had obediently remained in the mental hospital, he would have continued living safely. On the other hand, Xi Liang, another player, started with an ordinary scenario. Although impoverished and unfortunate enough to be hit by a car, he didn’t face significant life-threatening situations.
Kui Xin believed that only a minority of players with explosive starting conditions would meet their demise immediately upon entering the game. Nevertheless, among the ten thousand players, over three hundred had already perished. Each number could potentially represent a lost life.
As Kui Xin scrolled down the forum, her fingers froze and her pupils contracted, her heart racing as fast as it did when she first returned to the First World.
Three posts marked with a red “Official” prefix were pinned at the top, each bearing very simple titles:
Post 1: List of Fallen Players Released. Post 2: Explanation of Player Classes. Post 3: Introduction to Basic Rules.
There was no time for Kui Xin to browse other player-created threads; she clicked on the first post immediately.
The first floor of the thread contained a lengthy list that seemed endless, scrolling downward. The list did not reveal the players’ real names; it only showed their player IDs and the times of their deaths.
It resembled an obituary but carried an indescribably eerie feeling.
“Proxy 1 died on July 27th. Proxy 16 died on July 27th. Proxy 536…”
Kui Xin skimmed through rapidly, noticing that the highest number of deaths occurred during the first two days after entering the game. Subsequently, the death count gradually decreased. This might be because players started adapting to the world, understood the rules of the Second World, and began concealing themselves better, leading to fewer fatalities.
As she scrolled through the middle of the list, one line stood out prominently from the rest due to its longer text length, making it highly noticeable.
The line read: “Proxy No. 1368 was killed by Depriver No. 233 on July 29.”
Kui Xin’s eyes widened in shock.
Depriver No. 233 was herself! The game’s official forum had openly revealed her act of killing Chai Jian!
Feeling dizzy, Kui Xin exited the thread and glanced at the main page of the forum. Roughly counting, there were dozens of posts in various languages containing the number “233.” Most of these post titles ended with question marks or exclamation points, some even featuring a full row of them.
With a quick refresh, more threads continuously emerged, all bearing the label “233.”
Kui Xin could understand the Chinese posts, and surprisingly, several titles floating on the homepage were directly related to her!
“Who is Depriver No. 233??”
“Why did Depriver No. 233 kill their own people?!?”
“Is Depriver No. 233 insane? Born with antisocial personality traits? Are you kidding me? They actually murdered someone! This isn’t just a game; we’ve entered a real world filled with living beings! Living beings!”
“Damn it, during those days in the Second World, I worked tirelessly, earning money like a corporate drone, always cautious and afraid of any misstep. But Depriver No. 233 is unbelievably audacious—daring to kill upon arrival and even murder their fellow countrymen.”
Kui Xin covered her forehead, then rose and paced around the room several times to calm herself.
She couldn’t panic; panicking would be useless. There were still two official posts she hadn’t read. She had to finish reading them first, as these posts often contained the most significant information.
Kui Xin walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of cold water, and gulped it down. After allowing her thoughts to cool and regain her composure, she clicked open the second post—the explanation of player classes.
The first floor of the thread stated: “In this game, there are two major classes.”
“1. Deprivers: a class that relies on hunting special ability users, stripping them of their extraordinary abilities to gain power.”
“Deprivers cannot spontaneously awaken superhuman abilities or enhance themselves through potions containing special powers. The only way for a Depriver to improve is by depriving others and targeting anyone except themselves. The superhuman abilities they seize from others cannot be upgraded. To further enhance or evolve the acquired abilities, one must hunt other ability users with similar powers.”
“Proxies, with their human bodies traversing the world, seek to attain god-like power through this profession.”
“Proxies can spontaneously awaken superhuman abilities and also gain strength from potions containing special forces. Compared to Deprivers, a Proxy’s path to supernatural advancement is less treacherous. However, enhancing one’s abilities requires both innate talent and opportune moments; some individuals may be limited to low levels throughout their entire lives, while others can acquire powers rivaling those of gods.”
Having finished reading the introduction, Kui Xin pursed her lips, gaining a more concrete understanding of the game.
The path for Deprivers was steeped in bloodshed, whereas the progression route for Proxies followed the conventional “level-up” style.
She looked at the responses below:
1L: Who exactly is behind this game?! I don’t want to play anymore! How do I quit?!
4L: Why such a setup?! Is it entertaining to watch players slaughter each other?
13L: Would it kill you to provide these basic explanations before we entered the game? I swear, I’ll desecrate your ancestors’ graves!!
25L: So Proxies are just prey, right? We enhance our own abilities only to await being hunted by Deprivers?
[36L replies to 25L: We can retaliate!]
[48L: How many people in the game are Deprivers, and how many are Proxies? Shouldn’t the number of Deprivers be far fewer than that of Proxies? In the currently published official death list, all three hundred plus deceased individuals were Proxies.]
[50L: Deprivers don’t have to solely target players; they could go after inhabitants of the Alternate World instead. Hey, fellow Deprivers lurking on this forum, let’s at least show some humanity—don’t harm our own kind.]
[56L replies to 50L: Some already have been harming others; look at Depriver No. 233…]
[60L replies to 50L: Does it mean we can indiscriminately kill beings from the Alternate World then? Are you truly treating this as just a game? Which game involves real deaths? Which game is this realistic? Every individual here is a living, breathing life.]
[68L replies to 60L: Rather than having Deprivers focus their attacks on us, it’s better if they target those from the Alternate World. I don’t want to die.]
Kui Xin stopped scrolling; her gaze fixed on 85L.
85L: Is this the reason behind the six warnings given by the game’s officials? Treating the game as the real world, understanding that death is irreversible, and not revealing one’s identity as a player to anyone. Once our player identities are exposed, we’ll not only face suspicion, imprisonment, interrogation, and dissection experiments from people of the Second World but also become targets for Deprivers.
86L to 85L: Depriver No. 233 sets a dangerous precedent. If there are other Deprivers, they might follow suit and hunt down Proxies like No. 233 did. Seven days have passed, and everyone must have gained some understanding of the Second World by now. Consider this—would committing murder be easier in the technologically advanced Second World or in the less developed First World? If we don’t actively fight back, sooner or later, we will become prey for the Deprivers! Don’t assume everything is fine just because you temporarily exit the game; even the First World serves as a hunting ground! A hunting ground for Deprivers!
In Kui Xin’s view, the Second World was cold and ruthless.
However, she noticed a trend toward similar developments in the First World.
She was playing both a cybergame and a battle royale. She was the hunter, while the others were the prey. The prey, unwilling to be captured by the hunter, began plotting their counterattack.
Kui Xin exhaled, exited the second thread, and started reading the third one, which outlined the basic rules of the game.
First Floor: “Players can traverse between two worlds but have only one life; death in any world is irreversible.”
“The cycle duration between the First World and Second World is seven days, with login times based on China’s time zone. The game starts and ends at midnight.”
“While in the First World, if a player dies, the casualty list updates in real-time. If a player dies in the Second World, the casualty list will be announced collectively upon their return.”
“For additional rules, players are encouraged to continue exploring.”
After carefully reading through this post, Kui Xin noticed the first-floor reply: “If there is indeed a mastermind behind the scenes driving the game we’re participating in, then that mastermind must be Chinese. Otherwise, why would it follow China’s time zone?”
If there truly is a mastermind behind this, who could it be? Is there a deity?
What purpose does it serve for a divine being to select so many players for the Second World? Or perhaps there’s no deeper meaning at all, and it’s just a god’s whimsical joke?
Kui Xin finished reading all the official posts and then returned to the forum homepage to browse through individual player threads.
“How can I exit the game? Can I report this to the authorities? Will calling emergency hotlines help?”
1L: Exiting is impossible; you already used your one chance when signing the contract. Once missed, there’s no second opportunity. The officials stated that there are only two paths available: completing the game or character death.
2L: If you’re not afraid of exposing your identity and becoming a lab rat, go ahead and report it. However, I doubt any government has the capability to handle such bizarre circumstances. This isn’t a conventional war; it’s the intersection and merging of two worlds. We are pioneers and experiencers. Embrace a carefree mindset, live peacefully in another world without causing trouble, and appreciate the brilliance of advanced technology—it’s worth it; consider traveling.
The mindset of Player 2L is truly impressive. Kui Xin decided to learn from them.
“Any deceased players out there, can you speak up? Did you really die? I can’t believe it…”
1L: How can they respond if they’re dead?! I lean towards believing that they genuinely died.
“How do we obtain superhuman abilities? Has anyone awakened and been able to share their experience?”
After several meaningless posts, finally, a useful reply emerged.
12L: I’ve awakened, but I don’t think I have much advice to offer. It happened when I tripped, and suddenly, my powers manifested. As for the specifics of my superpower, I won’t disclose them to avoid unwanted attention.
13L: Incredible luck, whoever posted above me!
“I believe we’ve crossed over into a parallel world. Here’s my reasoning.”
1L (Original Poster): My name in the Second World is identical to my real-world name. As one of ten thousand players, I doubt I’m an exception; I suspect others’ names would also match those from the First World.
2L (OP): Although my appearance isn’t exactly identical to that in the First World, it’s very similar—about seven or eight parts alike! The most crucial point is that my personality in the Second World closely mirrors that of the First World; even our interests and hobbies are the same! Such coincidences cannot exist. I believe we haven’t entered a game but rather transmigrated into parallel versions of ourselves.
3L: You’re right, OP. Let me tell you, in the Second World, I have parents, whereas my parents from the First World passed away in a car accident a month ago. Guess what? My parents in both worlds look absolutely identical! Their habits, mannerisms, and speech patterns are remarkably similar too! When I first saw them in the other world, I couldn’t help but cry. I don’t want to exit this game at all—it feels like divine providence, fate’s compensation for me. There’s no way I can consider that world anything but real! I truly believe it is genuine!
4L (OP) replying to 3L: Blessings to you, friend.
5L: In the Second World, I also have parents and relatives, but they differ from my family in the First World. Perhaps the third-floor poster’s situation is a rare exception.
6L:Our two worlds’ appearances are too similar; this makes it very easy for identities to be exposed. Everyone needs to be cautious.
“When returning to the First World, I was on the toilet, taking a dump. Now here’s the question: If I travel back to the Second World, can I continue my business?”
1L:The transition occurs at midnight, both when entering and exiting. There’s no change in time, so don’t worry. After you return, you’ll definitely have ample opportunity to finish your poop.
Kui Xin refreshed the forum once more.
Many new posts had emerged.
One particular thread title caught her attention:
“Public Enemy No. 1 – Depriver No. 233. Surely nobody would object to calling them that?”