novelraw Chapter 28: Sea of Darkness - (28)
Chapter 28: Sea of Darkness - (28)
Indeed, Kui Xin had become the public enemy among players.
As she reviewed all the threads related to “233” on the forum, most posters and commenters expressed intense sentiments, with hardly anyone defending her. Occasionally, there were calm analytical remarks, but they were drowned out by the fervent comments.
In post number 62 of one thread, someone wrote: I believe there might be more to this situation than meets the eye. When we crossed over to the Second World, we had no way of knowing each other’s true identities. Could you distinguish who was a player and who was an indigenous inhabitant? You couldn’t. Perhaps No. 233 didn’t intend to kill fellow players at all.
Reply 63L to 62L: Then who do you think Depriver No. 233 intended to kill? Are the indigenous inhabitants from another world? Regardless of whether they aimed for the natives or us players, their intentions were deeply sinister.
Reply 64L to 62L: Discussing this is pointless; who cares about the motives and psychological state behind Depriver 233’s killings? People only focus on the outcome—he did murder someone. There might be other Deprivers among the Players, who could follow his example, leading to even more frequent player-versus-player incidents in the future!
Post 84L: Just thinking that Depriver No. 233 might be lurking and watching these posts while we’re making them gives me chills. What would he think upon seeing these threads? Panic, fear… or perhaps a mocking sneer?
Post 85L: If Depriver No. 233 had compelling reasons for killing, why hasn’t he come forward to clarify?
Reply 86L to 85L: It’s not like 233 is foolish. Who would step up amidst such turmoil? Even if he clarified, would anyone believe him? Can we discern whether he’s lying or telling the truth?
Immediately following, players fervently replied to post 85L, demanding Depriver No. 233 to provide an explanation within the thread itself.
However, Kui Xin understood she couldn’t offer any clarification.Fear-filled and swayed by public opinion, how many players were willing to delve deeper, and how many only cared about the outcome? The players were in the process of returning from their first transmigration, which was when they were in their most irrational state. Overwhelmed with panic and fear, there was an urgent need for emotional release, leading to the darkest aspects of human nature being fully unleashed.
What if Kui Xin tried to explain herself, but the players continued to question her? What if they demanded that she recount the exact details of the killing incident? She couldn’t prove it was unintentional, and others would always suspect her of doing it deliberately.
In attempting to vindicate herself, Kui Xin risked inadvertently revealing personal information. Players had replaced the indigenous inhabitants of the Second World, assuming various identities—some ordinary, others complex, possibly even holding high positions. If Kui Xin accidentally disclosed something she shouldn’t have, they could likely trace that clue back to her.
Kui Xin’s mindset remained composed; she understood that as long as she did not respond to this situation, the players would be unable to determine Depriver No. 233’s true identity. Their inability to guess correctly ensured her safety.
The greatest potential risk lay in her appearance.
Each player’s appearance retains similarities to their original form in the First World.
Players experience soul transmigration, not body swapping. For example, Kui Xin had long hair in the First World and short hair in the Second World. Upon returning to the First World, her hair length did not change, nor did she carry over any injuries sustained from encounters with Scythe Demons.
Kui Xin tapped her forehead; by touch alone, it seemed her iron skull hadn’t followed her back to the First World. However…
With the utility blade, she effortlessly executed a smooth, flashy knife flourish.
Kui Xin’s inherent talents and superhuman abilities had indeed returned to her.
Currently, she possesses five innate talents: Performer Persona, Life Resilience, Danger Avoidance, Rapid Learning… and Combat Instinct, which she acquired after entering the Second World.
Combat Instinct was a talent obtained from her Second World body, yet surprisingly, it seamlessly integrated into her First World physique. She still retained proficiency with weapons and could recall various combat techniques.
Setting down her phone, Kui Xin began doing push-ups on her bed.
To her surprise, she completed fifty push-ups without stopping—a level of fitness she had never achieved before. Even managing ten push-ups was challenging for someone who despised physical education class and considered herself weak. Doing fifty consecutively felt almost impossible!
Simultaneously, her performance of fifty push-ups was far from her physical fitness test results during training in the Second World; there she could do over a hundred consecutively.
Moreover, it might have been just her perception, but Kui Xin felt that her vision had significantly improved.
Originally, she had mild myopia with only a 100-degree prescription for glasses, which she occasionally needed during classes. Now, as she looked around, the slight blur seemed to vanish entirely.
In the Second World, she was an exceptional sharpshooter with excellent eyesight.
Kui Xin quickly realized that, under the influence of some unknown force, her bodies in both worlds were converging toward uniformity!
The robust physical attributes from the Second World were transferred to her body in the First World.
She rummaged through drawers and found a measuring tape, then stood on the ground to check her height.
During her senior year health examination, her height was recorded at 170 centimeters, while in the Second World, she stood at 175 centimeters.
After measuring herself, she found her height to be 171 centimeters—an increase of one centimeter, seemingly due to natural growth.
Kui Xin went to the bathroom and examined her reflection in the mirror, frowning slightly.
Players’ appearances in the First and Second Worlds are not always identical. Her features across both worlds resembled each other by about seven or eight parts out of ten, but they were not completely alike.
Long hair and short hair convey different impressions; with long hair, her demeanor appeared much softer. At first glance, this also seemed to reduce her resemblance to her appearance in the Second World, but upon closer inspection, they still looked quite similar.
Kui Xin had always worn her hair in a high ponytail. She pondered for a moment, then tried letting her hair down and adjusting her bangs. Feeling unsatisfied, she braided herself a loose, sweet-looking Dutch braid instead.
This further reduced the similarity between her appearances.
Kui Xin, an urban law enforcer in the Second World, dressed maturely and efficiently with a hint of coldness. Her overall presence exuded the aura of “I am an elite security officer.”
At a glance, there were significant differences in her outward appearance between the First and Second Worlds.
Maintaining such a stark contrast was unsustainable. Kui Xin considered getting plastic surgery.
However, cosmetic procedures were prohibitively expensive and would drain her finances quickly. Unable to afford it immediately, she could only make changes to her clothing style and physical appearance, striving to look distinctly different from her Second World self.
Once she returned to the Second World, perhaps she could work on altering her appearance there. In this technologically advanced world, undergoing a makeover should be relatively easier. Kui Xin suspected that many other players might have similar intentions, as changing one’s face is far less troublesome than having their identity exposed.
The thought of returning to the Second World stirred Kui Xin’s recently calmed emotions once again.
She felt anxious and uneasy.
Since she had been transported back during a battle, time wouldn’t flow while traversing worlds. However, this would significantly impact the combat situation. Upon her return to the Second World, if she were momentarily distracted and failed to react promptly, it could mean instant death for her.
Lan Lan and Jiang Ming were reliable teammates, but Kui Xin couldn’t place her hopes solely on them; relying on oneself is more dependable than depending on others.
Kui Xin glanced at the time—it was 12:53 AM.
Another early morning arrived.
In the bathroom, she washed her face before going back to lie down on her bed.
This was her first night back, and she knew she could sleep peacefully without immediate concerns about tomorrow.
…Wait! No need to worry about tomorrow? It seemed she had forgotten something important.
Kui Xin pulled up her phone’s notes app and saw clearly written: “At 9 AM, go to the fast-food restaurant on the third floor of Changlong Plaza for a summer job interview.”
Kui Xin sighed, thinking… Another fulfilling life is about to begin, isn’t it?
At 7:30 a.m., Kui Xin wasn’t awakened by her alarm clock but rather by a call from her grade twelve homeroom teacher.
“Xiao Xin, why don’t you come over for lunch at my place today?” Teacher Wang’s voice echoed in her ear.
Kui Xin’s homeroom teacher was named Wang Yange, known for being strict. However, privately, she had a very gentle side. Aware that Kui Xin lacked adult supervision at home, she often invited her for meals and guided her in choosing universities and majors. Teacher Wang’s son was two years older than Kui Xin, attending the same university she had applied to, both specializing in “Artificial Intelligence.” By September when the university semester begins, Kui Xin will be his junior colleague.
Still half asleep, Kui Xin replied, “No thanks, Teacher, I have to go for a job interview…”
“Oh dear, I forgot it’s summer break; I should have let you sleep longer.” Teacher Wang detected the heavy drowsiness in Kui Xin’s voice.
Teachers typically maintain fixed biological clocks, waking up promptly around six or seven, even during holidays.
Teacher Wang continued, “I also wanted to discuss your part-time job with you. Don’t go to fast food places; they’re too demanding. My friend’s child is preparing for art college entrance exams and will soon be entering their final year of high school. The girl is somewhat rebellious and doesn’t engage well with the private tutors we’ve hired. We were thinking of finding someone closer to her age to tutor and help with her studies.”
Kui Xin rubbed her eyes and climbed out of bed, asking, “What’s the pay rate, teacher?”
“Eighty yuan per hour, with three hours of tutoring each day,” Teacher Wang said. “It will continue until the end of August when school starts.”
Kui Xin felt enticed.
Three hours daily would earn her over two hundred yuan, and she’d still have free time for other activities. This arrangement was more convenient than working at a fast-food restaurant.
Working at the fast-food place demanded a significant amount of time, but Kui Xin wanted some leisure to focus on personal pursuits, such as physical training.
She couldn’t neglect her fitness; even in the First World, having good physical conditioning was essential.
“Great!” Kui Xin agreed. “Thank you, Teacher.”
Deep down, she knew that Teacher Wang intended to help her by suggesting this tutoring job, aiming to alleviate her workload. The opportunity truly suited her well, and Kui Xin was highly satisfied.
After finishing the high school exam, Kui Xin had already worked part-time jobs for a while. Initially, she distributed flyers at a mall for a week, then moved on to a bubble tea shop. Unfortunately, due to its poor location and struggling business, the tea shop went bankrupt, forcing Kui Xin to search for her third summer job.
Kui Xin woke up, washed, and prepared her breakfast by frying eggs.
After eating, she sat at the table, momentarily unsure of what to do next. Having left the intense and thrilling Second World behind, returning to the relaxed pace of the First World felt somewhat disorienting.
Kui Xin pondered for a moment, then pushed aside the small table in the living room to create some space. She began stretching her legs and performing exercises like push-ups and sit-ups, engaging in basic physical training. Today she had woken up slightly late; from now on, she planned to rise at six o’clock every morning to go for a long run along the river embankment behind her neighborhood.
In the First World, there was significant potential to improve her physical fitness. Training must not be interrupted and should progress gradually. Initially, Kui Xin could reduce her exercise regimen to one-third of what she experienced in the Investigation Department during the first few days, then incrementally increase it as she adapts.
After two hours of intense training, Kui Xin’s legs trembled uncontrollably, drenched in sweat.
She took a shower, massaging her muscles, and once ready, headed out towards Teacher Wang’s house.
Just before leaving, Kui Xin checked the forum again. Discussions related to Depriver No. 233 remained highly active and trending.
She skipped past those threads and looked at others instead.
One particular post focused on calculating the density of players across different countries.
First Floor: “The global population is approximately 7.5 billion, with China accounting for around 1.4 billion people, which is nearly twenty percent. Judging by the number of Chinese-language posts on the forum, it’s clear that there are quite a few Chinese participants here. With ten thousand players worldwide, I estimate our country likely has at least one or two thousand.”
“An interesting point is that when we initially entered the game, it was through a reservation system. The game’s developers disguised themselves as ordinary, requiring participants to fill out online forms for closed beta access. Those under 18 and over 60 were ineligible… This way, a significant portion of people could be excluded. Firstly, minors were ruled out, and secondly, areas with limited internet penetration, such as impoverished regions, were also eliminated. Countries in Africa and the Middle East can be directly disregarded; I suspect most players are concentrated in economically advanced areas.”
“By excluding less developed regions, underage individuals, and elderly populations, the scope narrows greatly. Friends, among the global total of ten thousand players, nearly two thousand are from our country alone. How many would each city likely have? Perhaps players might never even meet face-to-face throughout their entire lives. There’s no need to overly worry about Deprivers showing up, but remaining vigilant is still critical.”
Compared to last night, the forum had calmed down considerably, with more serious analysis posts emerging. Several threads discussed forming teams in the Alternate World, aiming to create reliable alliances for shared survival in the Second World.
Other posts meticulously analyzed the social structure and formation of hierarchies within the Second World.
Some even proposed stealing the Second World’s technology to advance the First World.
The original poster stated, “Just imagine, how many disabled individuals could embrace new life with those mechanical prosthetic limb technologies? Additionally, consider information technologies and holographic projections; they would bring about massive transformations in our world.”
A reply served as a cold reality check, saying, “Yes, it could bring significant changes, but it would also ignite wars. I’ve never dared to underestimate humanity’s greed and evil. If any country obtained such technologies, they would undoubtedly use them for warfare. You might bring back the technology, but do you have the ability to prevent war?”
Apart from these discussions, there were various uncertain and possibly dubious help-seeking posts.
“Stranded on a smuggling boat for a week, nearly contracting sepsis. Can someone advise what penalties I’d face if caught by the coast guard or similar authorities?”
“Having been transmigrated without legal status, how can I resolve my residency issues?”
“In debt while working at a nightclub, is there still a chance for a turnaround in this lifetime?”
“Help! How can I earn one million within a month? Urgently needed for university!”
Every help-seeking post received earnest replies offering suggestions. Overall, the forum atmosphere was highly optimistic and positive, except for threads involving Deprivers, which were filled with conspiracy theories and paranoia.
“Seeking information related to alien creatures; the more detailed, the better. Providing information will be compensated, either through transfer or physical mailing. If you choose a transfer, it can be made to an anonymous offshore bank account. If you opt for physical mail, I can send gold; you specify the mailing location and method. There is no intention to uncover identities; absolute trust is assured. Interested parties can message me privately on the forum.”
Below this post, a player asked, “What are alien creatures?” Many players shared similar concerns, as not everyone had the opportunity to encounter dangerous species that the Federal Government meticulously concealed from the general public.
Upon seeing the word “compensated,” Kui Xin’s heart stirred.
Replying publicly or sending private messages would reveal her username but not her ID number. However, Kui Xin’s own username was 233, identical to her ID number. The assignment of IDs was random, based solely on the registration order. As the 233rd user to register on the forum, her ID became 233.
The number 233 is a popular internet slang term, so numerous people might choose it as their username by coincidence.
After much hesitation, she decided to observe first, checking if any other users knowledgeable about alien creatures responded to the post.
In situations like this, one must not rush. She was short on money, but valuing her life took precedence.
Kui Xin turned off her phone and descended to take the subway.
At the staircase entrance, Aunt Zhang, engrossed in mahjong, noticed Kui Xin with a smile and exclaimed, “Ah, Xiao Kui knows how to dress up now—looking much more refined and truly pretty.”
Kui Xin smiled slightly, responding, “Good morning, Aunt Zhang. Did you win today?”
“Nope, just playing for fun,” Aunt Zhang said cheerfully.
The boisterous voices and warm sunlight helped Kui Xin relax; this was the ordinary yet genuine world of everyday life.
After boarding the subway, Kui Xin opened her phone to check messages from her class group chat.
“A million-subscriber video creator mysteriously disappears overnight after deleting their account.” Kui Xin paused when she saw the topic being discussed among her classmates. She scrolled upward through the chat history, her expression gradually becoming peculiar.
This content creator specialized in gaming-related videos, frequently appearing live on streams and recording footage, garnering a large fan base. The quality of their videos seemed quite impressive.
Before deleting their account, the last post by this creator read: “Awesome news! I received an invitation to the Crimson Earth Closed Beta. Everyone, stay tuned for my comprehensive review video! I might be the only game streamer worldwide who got selected for the beta – luck is bursting at the seams, ha-ha-ha-ha…”
Kui Xin thought, Poor unfortunate soul; that’s tragic.
This essentially cut off any retreat for him. With frequent appearances during live streams, his personal information, name, and appearance were virtually all exposed. This was truly a disastrous start, akin to playing one’s ultimate trump card too early. I fear that this unfortunate guy must have hastily fled overnight.