And so it went.
Constant battles, constant troubleshooting, constant inquiries...
Along the way, another hundred employees from the company were brought in.
This time, they weren’t from the security firm but were instead selected from Miracle Group—men and women, some even with pre-existing conditions.
But they all signed confidentiality agreements.
...
A full month passed like this.
Most of the testing was completed.
No major issues were found.
Even people with heart conditions could use it—their heart rates just fluctuated a bit more.
To put it bluntly,
this thing was a virtual world, just like dreaming.
No one’s ever heard of someone with a heart condition dying from a nightmare.
Though the company’s medical researchers did note that nightmares could pose a risk for heart patients.
But deaths from being scared into cardiac arrest were rare.
At worst, sympathetic nerve excitement would raise certain hormones, speeding up the heart rate and causing a sudden spike in blood pressure.
And even that depended on the type of heart condition.
In short,
given the current state of the Core of the Pivot, fatal incidents were highly unlikely.
Even if they happened,
they’d be isolated cases.
But that wasn’t a big deal.
After all, this virtual space wasn’t limited to just combat.
You could even develop farming games.
Tilling the land could improve physical fitness too.
And after a month of research, people with chronic illnesses or obesity saw significant improvements—all their health metrics were trending upward.
It was remarkably effective for weight loss and disease management.
After all, severely obese people in the real world would be out of breath after just a few steps.
But in the virtual space, they could sprint like the wind—just feeling a bit tired. The neural feedback alone was immensely beneficial for them.
...
In the blink of an eye,
another month passed.
This time, they tested for chronic and age-related conditions.
All in all, the entire process took about three months.
Every test was completed.
Tens of thousands of reports were generated.
Data on the helmets’ feedback and wear-and-tear were all recorded.
Production had also finished setting up the factory, with assembly lines ready to churn out thousands of helmets daily.
There was no fear of overstocking.
Demand would far outstrip supply—no way these helmets would gather dust in a warehouse.
May arrived.
Cao Cheng finally had some downtime.
He took off the helmet, still craving more.
Trash.
They were all trash.
Twenty kills in a single match.
If only finding opponents wasn’t so slow, he’d have racked up even more.
Though his real-world physique and abilities couldn’t be fully transferred into the game, about 20% carried over.
That still made Cao Cheng a top-tier force in the virtual world.
Before this, he’d never realized just how strong he was.
Now he knew.
He was basically cheating.
Inside the virtual space, his vision, hearing, and perception were all far sharper than an average person’s.
Even his bodyguards and highly trained security personnel could barely put up a fight.
Actually taking him down? Nearly impossible.
Over the past month, Cao Cheng had only died three times.
Sounds like a lot?
Pure bad luck.
This was a "semi-realistic" battlefield—anything could happen.
Twice, he got ambushed.
Once, someone rigged a car with explosives, and he didn’t notice in time.
Another time, it was a stray bullet.
He was heading over to break up a distant firefight when—bam—a random shot hit him square in the face. Game over.
Funny thing, though.
That sensation of dying? It eerily mimicked the terror he’d felt passing away in his previous life back in 2099.
Not as intense, but still enough to jolt the soul.
Dying once changes a person.
And that’s a good thing.
Also,
this virtual world couldn’t be treated like a regular game.
In normal games, you could hop into vehicles and roam freely—cars, speedboats, motorcycles...
But here? If you dared to use one, you’d just be a loud, attention-grabbing target.
You’d get dropped in seconds.
Who knew where some sneaky bastard was hiding?
And with heavy weapons like rocket launchers in play?
Extremely dangerous.
So,
after losing two lives to vehicles, Cao Cheng avoided them entirely.
This wasn’t something you could play casually.
...
The Fourth had been playing a lot lately—this game was addictive.
And good for the body, too.
Even Old Cao was hooked.
Only Ren's mother didn’t like it. Gentle by nature, she couldn’t stand the bloodshed.
Games like farming or pet-raising would suit her better.
While pushing his game company to develop more titles, Cao Cheng also took a helmet to the capital.
...
...
"So this is the game helmet you mentioned?" His father-in-law eyed it curiously.
Cao Cheng handed him a fresh one.
Smiling, he said, "Father-in-law, I can’t promise much, but safety isn’t an issue. Three months of non-stop testing, every bit of data recorded—tens of thousands of reports. Most importantly, like I told you on the phone, about 20% feedback."
His father-in-law raised an eyebrow. "So our soldiers could just train in this thing and develop real battlefield skills and killer instinct? No more real-world drills—just gaming?"
"No, no, no..." Cao Cheng quickly shook his head. "You’ve got it wrong. The training here maxes out at 20% feedback, and that’s not a fixed rate. Some people might get less than 10%, depending on their neural response. Plus, playing too long leads to fatigue—balance is key."
"Besides..."
"Virtual training at 20% can’t compare to real-world training at 100%."
"So physical drills are still essential. But in-game, they can sharpen their killer instinct—get used to blood."
"In this game, the average player kills at least a few per match. Even just one adds up over time."
"That kind of accumulated lethality? Most soldiers can’t match it."
"At the very least, they’ll be desensitized to violence."
"And even if they don’t kill, dying repeatedly changes a person."
"Not quite enlightenment, but maybe a minor epiphany or two."
"Best part? The data can be adjusted via my terminal. For us, I can set it to 20% realism."
"But for exports? I’ll dial it down to 2%... or even 1%. Or remove feedback entirely."
Cao Cheng grinned mischievously.
His father-in-law shot him a sidelong glance.
The older man understood now.
Some things were too sensitive for phone calls, but here, they could speak freely.
After a moment, his father-in-law asked, "Can I try it?"
"Sure, but if you go up against a real warrior, you’ll get crushed."
"..."
Old Cao snorted coldly. "Looking down on me? I served in my youth. Come on, let’s see what you’ve got."
Cao Cheng grinned. "Alright, let’s do this."
Old Cao, oh Old Cao… today, I’ll show you who the real boss is.

ine. During your journey, you save an abandoned baby girl and become her elder brother】 【You rely on each other, becoming each other's support】 【At the end of the simulation, you shield the now-grown girl with your life, sacrificing yourself to block numerous demonic cultivators. You die, and the light in the girl's eyes fades】 …… 【Second Simulation: You are transported to a world where steam and magic coexist】 【You immerse yourself in the study of magic, obsessed with its research. One day, while out, you encounter a half-blooded demon girl wandering the streets. You take her in as your student】 【You teach the demoness what it means to be human, show her the beauty of the world, and nurture her into a miracle that surpasses even the gods】 【At the end of the simulation, you die of old age in front of the nearly immortal demoness due to your mortal lifespan】 …… One simulation after another, one encounter after another. Xu Xi suddenly felt something was off: "Wait, you said you're coming to the real world to find me?"

transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”

tions: attribute allocation, analysis, proficiency, and simulation. Specializing in mechanical alchemy, from crafting sorcerous battle armor to handcrafting mechanical maidens, his mechanical legion conquers endless realms... Relying on his wits, he begins with a student-teacher romance, wins over a female director, enslaves a female assassin and a underworld queen, becoming the husband of a Grand Duchess... He enslaves the Goddess of Magic from the divine realm, developing his power simultaneously in both the Wizard World and the Realm of Gods...

pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"