An hour and a half passed.
Shen Yan could no longer laugh.
It was goddamn painful.
The level design of Getting Over It was meticulous.
At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but every segment had some angle deliberately designed to torment the player.
Extending the arm too far wouldn’t work, nor would keeping it too short.
Swinging too hard was a mistake, and moving the hammer too fast was just as bad…
In short, the slightest misstep would send the player tumbling back to the starting point.
Thanks to the deliberately sadistic control scheme, mistakes were practically inevitable, and mastering the mechanics wasn’t something that could be done quickly.
What’s worse, as the altitude increased, the illusion’s difficulty ramped up.
For example, Shen Yan’s hammer would suddenly become lighter or heavier, catching him completely off guard.
Later on, it might even grow or shrink in size—now that was just cruel.
Lu Ze called this "training reflexes."
As a result, the livestream’s atmosphere grew increasingly bizarre.
“Agh!”
“No…”
“Don’t!!!”
“Agh!!!”
…
The sounds he made began to resemble a certain infamous figure from Lu Ze’s past life.
The chat was flooded with sympathy.
[Shen, just give up…]
[This is too hard, too brutal…]
[What kind of sadist is this Lu Ze guy? Is he really from the righteous path?]
[Someone investigate him!]
…
“No… I’m fine!”
Shen Yan forced a smile.
He had no choice.
With so many people watching, he had to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.
The burdens of being an idol were heavy indeed.
By now, he had reached the Celestial Abyss Mountain section—
or, as it was known in the original game, Orange Mountain.
The sheer vertical cliffs meant that even the slightest miscalculation would send him plummeting.
Every step required meticulous angle adjustments, lest he slip and fall.
“I should hook here…”
The moment he swung, the hammer suddenly became much lighter.
The unexpected shift in weight made his swing far too forceful.
With a whoosh, Shen Yan was flung backward.
Luckily, he had fallen here enough times to control his landing, barely managing to crash onto a small floating pavilion.
Two more jumps, and he’d be back at Celestial Abyss Mountain.
“That was close…”
He let out a shaky breath.
Then, the cursed random weight system struck again—
His hammer abruptly became heavier.
Much heavier.
Shen Yan was already standing on the pavilion’s narrow, winding, and treacherously slippery steps.
The sudden weight yanked him downward, and before he could react—
Whoosh!
He slipped right off.
“???”
Panic seized him.
He flailed wildly, desperately trying to hook onto something—anything—midair.
But it was hopeless.
This spot was too precise.
Once you fell, it was a chain reaction of disaster.
“AAAAAAHHHH—!!!”
A scream unlike any before tore from Shen Yan’s throat.
Meanwhile, in another room outside the illusion, Lu Ze grinned like never before.
Shen Yan’s arms flailed uselessly as countless steps, pavilions, trees, and rocks blurred past him, rising upward in his vision.
He didn’t even get to hear the full line of “Come home often, come home often…”
Everything happened so fast.
“No… NO!!!”
His eyes widened in sheer terror and despair.
This feeling…
He had experienced it before.
Yes, in It Takes Four, more than once.
But for some reason,
in Getting Over It, the despair of starting from zero was so much worse.
THUD!
Shen Yan slammed into the ground.
Dazed, he looked around.
He was back.
Back in the painfully familiar valley.
A wave of desolation surged through him, and he roared in fury:
“GAIA—!!!!”
……
Outside the illusion.
“Ohoho, still holding on?”
Lu Ze clicked his tongue in amusement.
Most people would’ve rage-quit after falling from Orange Mountain, sliding all the way back to the starting point.
Yet this guy was already gearing up for another climb.
Truly, the Dao Heart of a righteous sect’s holy son was unshakable.
But the torture of being trapped in this "jar prison" was far worse than playing with a mouse on a computer.
After all, Lu Ze hadn’t just designed the mechanics—he’d also added special modifiers to encourage unexpected disasters.
The goal? Pure suffering.
Unlike It Takes Four, he hadn’t even included a death sequence upon failure.
Why?
Because death distracted from the frustration of failure.
“I failed, so I died.”
That was a natural conclusion.
Players would treat death as the punishment for failure, lessening the sting of defeat.
But keeping them alive? That was different.
So Lu Ze deliberately omitted death—just to maximize Shen Yan’s meltdown.
A few dozen or hundred points of demonic energy were nothing compared to system upgrades.
If the climb represented the "wealth" accumulated in-game, then falling was the process of watching that wealth slip away.
And the cruelest part?
Players had to witness every bit of their hard-earned progress vanish before their eyes.
That was psychological warfare.
Of course, It Takes Four had a similar design, but nowhere near as brutal.
Because in that game, players had three teammates.
First, the banter between friends softened the blow.
Second, knowing others were suffering alongside you made it easier to bear.
And most importantly—players could always blame their teammates.
But Getting Over It?
No distractions. No scapegoats.
Just pure, unfiltered despair.
“Hmm? Still going?”
Seeing the determination in Shen Yan’s eyes, Lu Ze raised an eyebrow.
He knew the guy was running on fumes.
The mission progress bar had already hit 80%.
One more big push, and even Shen Yan would crack.
And thinking about the snow mountain map beyond Celestial Abyss Mountain made Lu Ze grin even wider.
There, he had prepared a special trap just for Shen Yan.
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.
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
e school belle recognized by the whole school, a genius girl from the kendo club. She also has a hidden identity, the youngest legendary demon hunter. Chen Shuo just transmigrated and found himself turned into a weak, helpless little vampire. He was caught by Su Xiyen and taken home at the very beginning. Since then, Chen Shuo's life creed only had two items. "First, classmate Su Xiyen is always right." "Second, if classmate Su Xiyen is wrong, please refer back to item one." Many years later, Chen Shuo, who had turned back into a human, led a pair of twins to appear in front of all the vampires to share the secret of how he turned back into a human. "It's simple, I tricked a female demon hunter into becoming my wife!"
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."
