Director Jin wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.
At that moment, a voice drew his attention.
“Good day, Director.”
It was Zhu Zeyu—the young player had been standing guard outside the corridor this whole time, together with three veterans from Jin Rongxu’s side.
Judging by their stern yet composed expressions, they clearly had no idea what was happening.
“[Hunter] is here.” Director Jin did not hide it from them. “The instance has descended.”
“What?!”
Surprise flashed across Zhu Zeyu’s face.
Fortunately, the young man reacted quickly. He exchanged a glance with the other three, then asked, “Director, what can we do?”
Director Jin’s face had already turned as grim as it could possibly be.
According to his original plan, this operation was aimed solely at [Hunter], and it should never have become known to everyone.
But now look at what had happened.
The instance had descended in the crowded main hall, involving an entire group of people. There was no way they could keep it hidden.
This was a major blunder on his part!
“…Director?”
Zhu Zeyu cautiously studied Director Jin’s face.
Yes, his expression was awful.
For some reason, seeing it made Zhu Zeyu feel a little pleased.
Director Jin could not help raising his sleeve again, only to feel the sweat dampening his forehead.
The only consolation was that nothing had happened to Jin Rongxu.
He had asked about Jin Rongxu’s situation. The reply of “Nothing’s wrong” had at least given him some reassurance that everything was still under control.
“Stay in your room. Don’t come out.”
Director Jin replied on the [Player Forum], then briefly explained the situation regarding the instances that had descended in the two locations.
“[Hunter] has lost his patience, but our capture operation has yet to make any progress.”
“You must stay calm. Whatever you do, don’t move.”
“Wait until we’ve caught [Hunter] before you come out!”
After that, Director Jin turned toward Zhu Zeyu, who was looking at him questioningly.
“There are instances in the main hall and at Captain Zheng’s location.”
“You’ll come with me for now. Stay here and don’t move. Liu Lei?”
The middle-ranking officer nodded. “Here.”
“Go to the first floor and stabilize the situation. Be careful on the way.”
The man named Liu Lei turned and left briskly.
Just as Captain Zheng had said, the defenses on the thirteenth basement level were relatively tight.
Less than a minute after Zhu Yan created the virtual instance, a series of security doors on both sides of the corridor opened one after another.
More than a dozen elite players came running over in formation. Zhu Zeyu immediately recognized quite a few familiar faces—people he had fought against in the [Hall of Mourning].
“Director,” said a short, dark-skinned man, saluting Director Jin. “We’ve been briefed on the situation. Captain Zheng sent out a notification immediately. Do you know what’s happening at the other instance?”
Director Jin countered, “What about Captain Zheng’s location? What’s the situation there?”
…
What was the situation?
[Fog]—Mr. Ghost Story floated in midair, watching a group of people scurry about like headless flies.
Creating a space was quite interesting.
For example, the space where Captain Zheng and the other nine players were located had been altered into a square, brightly lit corridor. Zhu Yan could modify the furnishings in the corridor with nothing more than a thought.
He had discovered that the more distorted the space was, and the greater the difference between its interior and reality, the less [Shuddering Delight] it consumed.
Naturally, he had worked out this rule through experiments in the virtual instance inside the testing hall.
At this moment, the virtual instance in the testing hall was filled with the suppressed sobs of several players.
The place had been completely warped.
The high ceiling sagged heavily downward. More precisely, it had twisted like a sheet of stiff paper that had been crumpled into a ball.
The light strips and pipes above had bent along with it at bizarre angles. One damaged lamp hung down, white-green current crackling at the end of its exposed wires.
That was almost the only source of light here.
Apart from it, there were only murky yellow specks of light that had appeared from who knew where, drifting through the air. They illuminated the frightened or wary faces in the dark chamber, as well as the furnishings that had become so distorted they were impossible to recognize.
“Um… sir, this really is a misunderstanding.”
The young man in the baseball cap who had been used by Zhu Yan looked utterly panicked.
Two Alliance players had him pinned down, forcing him against a twisted, hardened examination bed. He could not move at all.
The young man was practically on the verge of tears. “I—I’m really not the [Hunter] you’re talking about! I don’t even know who he is!”
This was a completely undeserved disaster!
Who would have thought that simply picking up a phone that had inexplicably appeared on the floor, then pulling a handle that had inexplicably emerged from the ground, would result in him being pinned down and accused of being the [Hunter]?
Good heavens!
What did something so notorious have to do with an ordinary person like him?
“I…”
“That doesn’t matter anymore.”
Another, calmer voice came from the crowd.
The speaker was none other than Zhu Yan, who had re-formed himself into human shape in the corner.
He had activated [Roleplay], taking on the appearance of Qiu Lingxiao’s older brother—the same appearance he had seen at the [Recitation Stage].
Zhu Yan raised his phone flashlight, a strange smile on his face.
“Look. This space is extremely limited in size.”
“It should be some kind of special instance, shouldn’t it?”
Originally, Zhu Yan had planned to hang from the lamp in the form of [Fog] and write out the rules directly.
But that would have been far too dull. And he happened to enjoy excitement.
Besides, if he wanted to muddy the waters completely, and make use of the innocent Qiu Lingxiao as well, then how could he allow no one to witness Qiu Lingxiao’s older brother taking part?
That way, when the [Human Alliance] read their memories later, it would be much more entertaining.
The faint flashlight beam illuminated the walls enclosing the entire space.
The place was indeed small. The walls were not ordinary white walls, either, but flesh and blood that seemed to be alive.
One player suddenly produced a weapon and hacked at the wall with all his strength. Yet the fleshy wall did not budge. It merely splashed a small amount of blood and tissue into the air.
Zhu Yan stood in the corner and suddenly burst out laughing.
“What are you laughing at?”
In the silence, that laughter sounded deeply unnatural.
One of the Alliance players sensed something amiss. He turned around warily and looked at the young man.
For some reason, the young man’s face seemed vaguely familiar, but he could not remember where he had seen it.
Was it beside Captain Zheng? Or Captain Jin?
“Me?”
Zhu Yan turned his hand, changing the angle of the flashlight.
The white beam shone straight down from above his head, plunging his eyes completely into the shadows beneath his brow and casting his entire face in a sinister gloom.
“I’m laughing at how stupid you are.”
“I was the first person here to mention the instance. Naturally, you should have asked me about the rules. Isn’t that right?”
In truth, Zhu Yan had no idea how to play a villain.
He felt that the line did not make much sense, but it did not matter. At this point, he might as well keep his eyes open and make things up as he went.
Yet to the others, both the young man’s tone and expression carried a subtle, bone-chilling coldness.
It was as though he were not a player like them at all, but rather… something with a strange temperament that might even be trying its best to imitate humanity…
“Wow, you’re this stupid? Why don’t you just kill yourselves?”
Zhu Yan had thought of a brilliant paradox.
He raised his right hand, revealing the bow-and-arrow insignia in his palm.
“Since things have come to this, this is a—”
“Kill him!!”
An Alliance player realized what was happening and suddenly drew his knife, lunging at Zhu Yan.
But the blade passed unhindered through empty air, slammed into the wall of flesh, and was sent rebounding by the tremendous force.
The Alliance player clutched his numb hand and staggered back several steps. Suddenly, a commotion erupted among the crowd.
“What’s that?!”
“Red text! It’s the rules!”
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
s the Eldest Princess, renowned for her cold and aloof detachment, became the most docile of lambs, obeying his every command without question. But when the final move was played on the chessboard, as Gu Chenghan seized everything and ascended on the verge of apotheosis, that very Princess suddenly embraced him from behind, her tone carrying a dependence never heard before: "Wait... you haven't yet... commanded me to love you forever." Gu Chenghan froze abruptly. She... hadn't been hypnotized?! ... [The Eldest Princess's Diary] [When my soul was extracted, becoming the sole spectator outside my own shell] [At first, there was overwhelming fury, until I saw] [How he used my sword to effortlessly shatter my inescapable doom] [How he wielded my authority to eradicate fatal conspiracies I had never even detected] [Like a deity, he rescued me from the deep mire I was trapped in] [If not for those annoying vixens, he and I would be a match made in heaven] [I think I am ill, gravely ill] [My deity should belong to me alone] ... "Hypnosis? Oh, it succeeded, my dear Master." "Only this time, it's my turn to hypnotize you."
ver to a world of cultivation and returned invincible. Modern medicine is child's play compared to elixirs; technological might crumbles before true cultivation. My name is Qin Ning, Earth's sole cultivator!
