Free Web NovelAfter laying out his three hypotheses, Bai Liu set down his pen.
It rolled twice across the tabletop before coming to a stop near Mu Shicheng’s motionless hand.
Bai Liu himself remained completely indifferent, as though he hadn’t just said anything particularly shocking. In the end, he even looked at Mu Shicheng’s numb expression and added with apparent sincerity:
“Of course, these are only my personal speculations. It’s also possible things aren’t like this.”
The cramped rental room fell into a long silence.
Only the occasional wind brushing past Bai Liu’s fingertips disturbed the stillness, stirring the sheet of paper on which he had casually written down the truth of the world.
It was midsummer.
Bright sunlight poured through the window behind Bai Liu. It was already noon outside, and the air carried the shrill, reckless chorus of cicadas alongside the impatient blaring of car horns from the street below.
Yet all those sights and sounds—the details that gave the world its ordinary human warmth—seemed to instantly drain into black and white within Mu Shicheng’s perception.
Like Bai Liu himself, seated against the light at the desk and quietly watching him, everything receded into twisted digital lines and multidimensional noise before disappearing into the darkness behind Mu Shicheng’s closed eyes.
The moment Bai Liu put down the pen, Mu Shicheng’s ears had started ringing.
For several seconds, even his own breathing felt fake.
Reality... was a game?
The “Promised Land” he had struggled so desperately to protect—the place he believed existed beyond human desire and ugliness—turned out to be nothing more than another game.
Mu Shicheng collapsed back into the chair. One hand covered his eyes while the other hung limply at his side. He stayed like that for a very long time without speaking.
Bai Liu did not disturb him.
After an unknown amount of time, Mu Shicheng finally let out a hoarse, self-mocking laugh.
“Bai Liu... I’m seriously wondering whether you just made up something this horrifying to trick me into joining the league with you.”
He lowered his hand slightly, revealing a pair of exhausted eyes.
“This is fake, right? It isn’t real, right?”
“Most things that are truly real in this world are terrifying,” Bai Liu replied calmly. “Otherwise, where would people get material for games?”
He stood up, folded the paper neatly, and tucked it into a book before turning back toward Mu Shicheng.
Mu Shicheng stared at him gloomily.
Bai Liu shrugged lightly.
“However, you don’t seem particularly willing to accept this emotionally. So from an emotional standpoint, I feel like I should give you some space to process and escape from it for a while. That’s why I said things might not necessarily be this way.”
After a pause, he added:
“After all, it really could be the first or second possibility.”
Mu Shicheng: “...”
Motherfucker.
How is that any different from directly telling me it’s the third one?!
Mu Shicheng remained sprawled lifelessly in the chair for a long while before finally looking at Bai Liu with visible confusion.
“Bai Liu... if the reality we live in is just a game, then where is actual reality? Does a true reality even exist? What things even have genuine meaning for us anymore?”
His voice grew quieter.
“And why aren’t you afraid of this?”
Bai Liu did not seem surprised by the barrage of questions. He merely thought for a moment before answering.
“I started thinking about what reality actually is, and what things truly matter to me, when I was still a teenager.” Bai Liu spread his hands casually. “But aside from one close friend, almost none of my peers could understand those thoughts.”
“I later realized most people may never think about those questions even once in their entire lives—and they still manage to live perfectly fine inside this illusory reality.”
Bai Liu spoke calmly.
“To the vast majority of people, whether reality is fake or real makes no actual difference.”
“If you want to interpret it through the lens of objective idealism, then a person’s understanding of themselves and the world forms the foundation of their value system. As long as the ‘self’ is real, and the things that self pursues are real, then that world is real to them.”
He looked at Mu Shicheng evenly.
“So whether this world is a game or not doesn’t really matter to me.”
“As long as human currency continues to exist, my desire for money won’t disappear.”
“That is my reality.”
“And that is my meaning.”
Mu Shicheng stared blankly at him.
Bai Liu tilted his head slightly.
“If you can’t find your own meaning for now, do you want to try borrowing mine?”
He picked up the keys hanging behind the door and glanced back at Mu Shicheng.
“For example, pursuing something tangible—like the five hundred million points awarded to the champions of the competition.”
Bai Liu pushed the door open.
“Maybe by then, you’ll be able to use money to buy the reality you want.”
“With five hundred million points...” Bai Liu narrowed his eyes slightly in thought. “I think you could probably buy an entire Earth and build the ‘real world’ you’re looking for.”
Mu Shicheng sat there in silence for quite a while, his expression twisted beyond description.
Finally, he managed to squeeze out:
“Bai Liu... did you seriously work in a pyramid scheme before? How are you this good at talking people into things?”
Once again, he had somehow been persuaded by this lunatic’s absurd logic.
“So?” Bai Liu raised an eyebrow. “What’s your answer? Are you joining the league?”
Mu Shicheng clenched his teeth.
“I’ll join!”
Then he quickly added:
“But don’t we need at least five players? Otherwise how are we supposed to participate?”
“You don’t need to worry about that.” Bai Liu turned around casually. “I’ll handle it. Just wait for my message.”
Then he suddenly asked:
“I’m going out to eat hot pot with a friend. Want to come?”
Mu Shicheng: “...”
How are you still in the mood to eat hot pot at a time like this?!
Perhaps Mu Shicheng’s horrified expression was too obvious, because Bai Liu calmly pulled two discount coupons from his pocket, waved them, and explained:
“The coupons expire today. If I don’t use them now, it’ll be a waste.”
Mu Shicheng: “...”
There was simply no comparing ordinary people to someone like Bai Liu, whose psychological resilience bordered on monstrous.
Mu Shicheng’s worldview had just been shattered, and this university student clearly still hadn’t recovered from the impact. After firmly refusing Bai Liu’s invitation to hot pot, he exchanged contact information and school addresses with him before dragging himself back to his dormitory alone to contemplate life.
Meanwhile, Bai Liu happily headed off with his discount coupons in hand.
He didn’t look remotely like someone who had just escaped a deadly horror game.
Nor did he look like someone who had casually revealed the horrifying truth of the world to another person.
Mu Shicheng let out a speechless, incredulous sigh.
“You actually seem to be in a really good mood.”
“Yes.” Bai Liu admitted readily, narrowing his eyes with a faint smile. “I’m off work now, so naturally I’m in a good mood.”
Mu Shicheng: “...”
He suddenly recalled Bai Liu’s earlier theory about treating horror games like work.
Fuck.
This guy genuinely thinks he just clocked out.
What kind of environment could possibly create a monster with psychological endurance this insane?!
After parting ways with the dazed Mu Shicheng, Bai Liu went to meet Lu Yizhan.
When Bai Liu woke up earlier, he had discovered that Lu Yizhan had called him twice. However, because Bai Liu had been inside the game at the time, he hadn’t answered. Afterward, he texted Lu Yizhan to ask what was wrong, and Lu Yizhan replied that they should talk in person.
Speaking of meeting in person, Bai Liu remembered that he would likely disappear for nearly two months soon. If he vanished without warning, Lu Yizhan—being a police officer—would probably file a missing person report once he couldn’t find him.
So Bai Liu felt it was necessary to at least notify him beforehand.
He arranged to meet Lu Yizhan at the hot pot restaurant by text message.
When Bai Liu arrived, it was still relatively early, and the restaurant wasn’t crowded yet. He ordered a broth base and several dishes, carefully confirmed with the owner that the discount coupons were still valid, and then sat there waiting patiently.
Before leaving, the owner turned on the television ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) for him.
It was the noon news broadcast.
Bai Liu casually lifted his eyes toward the screen—and immediately saw the pixelated photograph of Li Gou displayed there.
A male news anchor in a suit sat upright behind the desk, fingers interlocked, speaking in an official broadcast tone:
“Welcome to Midday News. Recently, key evidence in the case involving the dismemberment of a high school girl by major criminal suspect Li Gou was finally discovered... If Li’s crimes are confirmed, he may face the death penalty. However, before the trial could begin, Li was suddenly hacked to death in prison yesterday by another inmate, surnamed Wang, who was also convicted of murder...”
The host lowered his eyes, turned a page of the script, and continued.
“Recently, a large-scale food poisoning incident suddenly broke out at a privately funded children’s welfare home in our city. A large number of children from the institution were rushed to the hospital. After police intervention, it was discovered that the welfare home had been on the verge of bankruptcy due to poor management, resulting in the purchase of many low-cost ingredients. Many of these ingredients were rotten and spoiled, causing diarrhea and vomiting after the children consumed them. In severe cases, the children suffered dehydration and shock... We call upon members of society from all walks of life to donate to the welfare home...”
Bai Liu was watching with great interest when Lu Yizhan arrived, looking travel-worn and utterly exhausted.
One glance at that standard corporate-slave face, and Bai Liu knew he had been losing a great deal of sleep lately.
Lu Yizhan sat down and immediately gulped down two mouthfuls of tea. Looking at Bai Liu, he began complaining endlessly in pain.
“Damn it, you have no idea how busy I’ve been lately! I’m about to die from exhaustion! I didn’t even have time to drink a sip of water all morning!”
“It’s only been a few days since we last ate together, hasn’t it?” Bai Liu raised an eyebrow. “Is preparing for a wedding really that terrifying?”
Lu Yizhan waved a tired hand. Then he looked up, saw the news playing on the television, and his expression changed. He called a waiter over and lowered his voice.
“It’s not just the wedding. Waiter, can we switch to a private room?”
There weren’t many customers yet, so the waiter quickly moved Bai Liu and Lu Yizhan into a small private room.
The moment they entered, Lu Yizhan’s expression turned solemn. He took out a cigarette and lit it.
Bai Liu hadn’t seen Lu Yizhan smoke in a long time.
Ever since this man got a girlfriend, he had been managed into a perfectly devoted boyfriend. Bad habits like smoking, gaming, and gambling had all been forcibly quit. Even drinking a bottle of cola had to be done in secret because his girlfriend—no, his fiancée now—firmly believed that cola killed sperm and harmed the body, and had strictly forbidden Lu Yizhan from drinking any carbonated beverages.
Regarding this, Bai Liu felt it was fortunate that Lu Yizhan’s fiancée didn’t know beer was also carbonated.
Otherwise, Lu Yizhan’s only remaining joy in life—drinking beer and eating barbecue—would probably be stripped away too.
Bai Liu smiled calmly at Lu Yizhan, who was smoking with a bitter expression.
“Should I be asking with great concern now, ‘What happened, Lu Yizhan? Why are you smoking? Didn’t you once swear you’d never touch soft drugs like cigarettes again unless the world collapsed? What, did your world collapse in the few days I was gone?’”
“Cough, cough, cough!”
Lu Yizhan choked on the smoke from Bai Liu’s teasing. Then he couldn’t help laughing.
Lu Yizhan had the kind of upright, generous young man’s appearance that elderly people tended to like. When he smiled, he looked a little foolishly handsome.
“Bai Liu, if you want to ask, just ask! Did you have to bring up my chuunibyou dark history?!”
“Go on.” Bai Liu poured him a cup of tea and pushed it over. “I’m off work right now. I can spare a little of my precious time to listen to the life troubles that caused your world to collapse.”
“There are indeed a lot of wedding matters, and they’re all annoying.” Lu Yizhan took the cup Bai Liu handed him and fell silent for several seconds. “But the thing bothering me most right now isn’t the wedding.”
He looked at Bai Liu.
“You saw the news about that children’s welfare home just now, right?”
Bai Liu nodded. “I saw it. What about it?”
“A colleague of mine is handling that case. According to him, it doesn’t look like ordinary food poisoning. A lot of young children are still undergoing emergency treatment, and the specific results haven’t come out yet.” Lu Yizhan frowned. “But mushroom poisoning... you and I both grew up in welfare homes. Jingcheng isn’t a mushroom-producing region, and mushrooms are relatively expensive. Welfare homes here rarely buy them. They’re costly vegetarian ingredients and prone to causing accidents. And this particular welfare home is privately funded and already on the verge of bankruptcy...”
“In short, I think something is wrong. But the current solution still leans toward keeping the welfare home operating. When the situation hasn’t been clarified, the safety of the children who remain there can’t be properly guaranteed...”
“That does sound complicated,” Bai Liu said calmly. “But what does it have to do with you, Lu Yizhan? You’re a police officer, yes, but this isn’t your case, is it?”
Lu Yizhan was silent for a while.
Then he said, “I applied to join the investigation team.”
Bai Liu glanced at him but said nothing.
“You know I’m getting married soon. Jie’s health isn’t very good... The doctor said she probably can’t get pregnant.” Lu Yizhan’s fingers tightened around the cup, and he gave a bitter smile. “Before, we talked about whether we should adopt a child...”
He inhaled slowly.
“Bai Liu, I know you’ll definitely think I’m being too impulsive. My financial situation isn’t exactly great either...”
Lu Yizhan paused, then continued, “But after discussing it with Jie, I’m planning to adopt a child from this welfare home. After all, one less child in that unstable environment is still one less child at risk. Besides, I came out of a welfare home myself. Consider it giving back to society.”
“So.” Bai Liu’s tone was very calm. “You’re telling me about something you know I won’t exactly approve of. What’s your purpose?”
He looked at Lu Yizhan. ƒrēewebnovel.com
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Lu Yizhan lowered his eyes and fiddled with the cigarette between his fingers without speaking.
The waiter came in and set down a bubbling spicy red hot pot between the two silent men.
Only then did Lu Yizhan speak, almost to himself.
“Bai Liu, honestly, I really didn’t want to involve you in this kind of thing. But your brain is just too useful for cases like this.”
“If a case involves large-scale criminal interests, you can almost immediately guess the other party’s next move. You’re a genius in that regard.”
Expressionless, Bai Liu took a sip of tea.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. This isn’t the first time you’ve come to me to meddle in something. If you have something to say, say it directly.”
“Can you help me look into this case?” Lu Yizhan looked up at Bai Liu. “My colleague’s investigation has hit a dead end. In the past, the approaches you suggested for breaking through situations like this were all correct, so...”
Lu Yizhan spoke with some difficulty.
“I know I’m meddling. But since I know about it, I can’t just stand by and watch. They’re all very young children...”
Bai Liu reached out and snapped a pair of disposable chopsticks apart with a crisp crack, interrupting him.
“I can help you take a look, but I don’t work for free. Same rule as always—this meal is on you.”
Lu Yizhan nodded. He was already very familiar with Bai Liu’s demand for compensation.
“And I only have one day to help with your meddling,” Bai Liu added. “I’m going on a business trip tomorrow and won’t be back for two months.”
Lu Yizhan froze.
“Two months? That long? What exactly is your job? If it’s that performance-based work you mentioned last time, it shouldn’t take two whole months, right?”
Bai Liu paused.
Considering the game’s censorship mechanism, he changed his wording.
“This time, I’m taking a monkey, a young shàoyé, and a few other people to form a team. We’ll be performing games onstage for an audience for two months.”
“...”
Lu Yizhan’s expression became extremely complicated.
“Is this job of yours really legal?”
Bai Liu said, “It is.”
“A monkey, a shàoyé, playing games for an audience, legal, performing for two months...”
Lu Yizhan thought for a while. Then his eyes suddenly lit up with realization. He slapped his thigh and looked at Bai Liu with firm certainty.
“You’re part of a circus troupe, aren’t you? You’re going on tour for two months, right?”
“...”
Bai Liu was silent for several seconds.
“Yes.”
—
After Bai Liu returned home, he looked through the materials and information Lu Yizhan had given him regarding that private welfare home.
Most children’s welfare homes in their world were public institutions run by the government. Bai Liu and Lu Yizhan had both come from that kind of public welfare home.
Lu Yizhan had grown into a kindhearted, grateful, modern “Five-Good Youth,” full of appreciation toward society and determined from a young age to become a police officer and serve the public.
As for Bai Liu, this freak had locked his eyes on money and never looked away. If Lu Yizhan hadn’t been constantly vigilant, dragging Bai Liu back again and again onto the path of law and order, there was truly no telling what this lunatic might have done for money.
However, the welfare home involved in this incident was not a public one. It was a private children’s welfare home established years ago by a large group of corporate philanthropists.
Many of these entrepreneurs were said to have terminal illnesses. Following the traditional idea of “doing good deeds before death,” they donated a large sum of money to build this private welfare home, claiming they wanted to accumulate merit before they died. At the time, the act had won widespread praise, and Lu Yizhan had always spoken highly of it.
Coincidentally, not long after the children’s welfare home was completed, the health of those entrepreneurs improved—as though they truly had received “good karma.”
But “doing good deeds before death” only applied when one was actually near death.
Once a person was no longer dying, they naturally stopped wanting to spend vast sums on charity for merit. Afterward, these entrepreneurs gradually stopped caring about the welfare home, and over the next decade or so, this private institution slowly fell into decline.
After reading through Lu Yizhan’s materials, Bai Liu understood why he felt something was wrong.
This poorly managed private welfare home had already suffered various incidents before, most of them involving different forms of mushroom poisoning. This time, however, was the most serious.
According to Lu Yizhan, when all the food poisoning incidents were placed together, they didn’t look accidental at first glance. But after investigation, no traces of criminal activity had been found. It wasn’t deliberate poisoning. It was merely accidental food poisoning.
Just like this time.
It was as if some higher-level existence had erased every clue except “accidental food poisoning.”
Lu Yizhan even suspected that something had gone wrong internally—that someone within their own ranks had deliberately erased criminal evidence.
But from the perspective of a cold-blooded game designer, this was simply natural material for a horror game.
A children’s welfare home on the verge of collapse.
A strange mushroom poisoning incident.
Young children who died tragically from poison.
Rather than suspecting internal personnel of erasing evidence, Bai Liu suspected the thing that had erased those traces was not human.
If his previous speculation was correct—
Then Bai Liu felt this children’s welfare home was very likely a “horror game dungeon” currently being deployed into the “real world.”
—
Early the next morning, before dawn, Bai Liu was woken by Lu Yizhan’s repeated phone calls.
The moment he answered, Lu Yizhan’s voice came through more serious than ever.
“Bai Liu, come to Jingcheng First People’s Hospital. The children who were sent to the hospital last night—”
“Many of them died, right?” Bai Liu finished calmly.
Lu Yizhan’s breath caught on the other end.
Then he slowly exhaled.
“Did you find something?”
“Not yet,” Bai Liu answered honestly. “But judging from the materials you gave me, if someone intentionally poisoned them so many times, then the goal should be death. And since this incident is so severe, I assumed the mushrooms those children ate must have reached a lethal dose.”
“...Yes. Many died after rescue attempts failed.” Lu Yizhan’s voice was hoarse and dry. “But one child is still alive.”
“One child is still alive?”
Bai Liu immediately noticed something wrong.
If this children’s welfare home was a “horror game dungeon” being deployed into the real world by the [System], then the children serving as the game’s background should most likely have been wiped out entirely—just like the passengers in that carriage in The Last Train to Blast Off.
Bai Liu asked quietly, “Can I come over?”
Lu Yizhan replied, “Yes. Come.”
When Bai Liu arrived at the hospital, the entrance was already crowded with reporters from various news outlets.
Lu Yizhan came down to meet him and brought him upstairs through the surgical elevator. As they passed the operating rooms, Bai Liu could see small bodies lined up along the corridor, their heads covered with white cloth.
Because there were too many of them, some had not yet been moved away. They were piled messily in the hallway, turning the corridor into a small, temporary morgue.
From time to time, nurses with numb expressions came over to push away the children’s bodies. Occasionally, when a stretcher knocked against the wall, a small bluish-purple hand covered in mottled livor mortis would slip out from beneath the white cloth and sway loosely.
The spots and swollen patches of blood beneath the skin bulged across the children’s bodies like mushroom patterns spreading over the backs of their small hands.
It looked as though mushrooms might burst through their skin at any moment.
A nauseating smell of fermenting mushrooms permeated the entire surgical area. It was as if the mushrooms the children had accidentally eaten had spent the whole night using these fresh corpses as a culture medium, multiplying into a dense odor—rotten, yet brimming with the vigorous vitality unique to fungi.
Bai Liu discreetly withdrew his gaze.
He glanced at Lu Yizhan, then waited until they had passed the operating rooms before speaking softly.
“Are you sure these children only died last night? The degree of decomposition doesn’t seem right.”
“Yes.” Lu Yizhan rubbed his forehead. “The livor mortis appeared too densely and too early. The timing of rigor mortis is also wrong.”
Bai Liu looked at him sideways. “How wrong?”
Lu Yizhan stopped after hearing the question.
He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette, taking several heavy drags. Soon, the entire stairwell was filled with smoke, making it clear that his mood was extremely bad.
“Livor mortis appeared all over the children’s bodies only minutes after death was confirmed. It emerged and spread very quickly. Normally, that’s something that only appears more than twenty-four hours after death.”
Lu Yizhan pressed the thumb of the hand holding the cigarette against the center of his brow, trying to smooth out his frown. It clearly didn’t work.
“Rigor mortis was the same. Their bodies stiffened rapidly after death, and by early this morning, they had already entered the softening and decomposition stage. That also usually happens only after more than twenty-four hours.”
He paused.
“It’s almost as if...”
Lu Yizhan’s voice lowered.
“...these poisoned children had already died before they were ever brought to the hospital.”
As they spoke, they reached the stairwell beside the pediatric emergency ward.
Through the half-open emergency exit door, they could see children’s bodies covered in white cloths lying on beds in the corridor, while nurses placed them one by one into body bags.
The faces of those dead children were not the bluish-white of ordinary corpses. Instead, they were covered in multicolored, raised spots.
Bai Liu knew some forms of mushroom poisoning could cause rash-like allergic reactions. But the spots on these children’s faces were already so dense that they looked like color blindness test charts, bulging visibly from the surface of the skin.
Even though Bai Liu did not have trypophobia, the sight still made him faintly uncomfortable.
It felt as though countless mushrooms were packed beneath those human faces, waiting to sprout.
—
Author’s Note:
Note: According to the information I found, in our country, adoption generally requires a couple to have been married for many years, with one party unable to conceive. I made a slight adjustment here for Sister Dian and Lu Yizhan.
The welfare institution system here is also different from reality. In reality, individuals are not allowed to fully sponsor a children’s welfare institution on their own—the government must be involved in supervision to ensure the children’s safety, which is actually a very good thing.
Almost all systems in this game world have been modified. Every setting here exists to serve the loading of the game. Please do not apply it to the real world. This is a fictional game world with extremely outrageous settings. Thank you, thank you.
