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It turned out that the characters in the text library were divided into two types.
The first kind was specifically used for creating games and could only be used for creating games. They were abundant and inexhaustible. When written on paper, it was like novel writing, where you can write whatever you want. Some people in the games who were absorbed and textualized would become a name in a dictionary, written down automatically as a complete set—such as the name “Whit E.,” which included information like “male, 1.75 meters tall,” because it itself was a person.
The second kind, however, was specifically for game makers.
Words they summoned like “locust,” “death,” “cage,” and the like were stored separately in another list along with many similar words; whatever was needed could be called forth. Unlike the first type of text, these summonable words had a quantity limit, and some words even had only one set—if you called forth “freedom” here, then others would lose the two characters for “freedom.”
“Many people don’t understand and think that the summoned words can only affect themselves, so why study it? Their understanding of this list is like, ‘oh, there are protective words, monitoring words, that’s enough.'” Master Zhang shook his head, seemingly quite regretful. “They are wrong! They still don’t think deeply enough.”
‘Indeed, if everyone thought deeply, how could the words “power” and “authority” fall to you?’
Lin Sanjiu knew this thought was highly irreverent, and when it arose, she felt somewhat uneasy, as if she had blasphemed something—yet the strange thing was that while she felt Master Zhang was offended, she didn’t care much.
Speaking of which, Yu Yuan had once judged that they couldn’t summon “invincibility” and then truly become invincible. His judgment at the time was based on the idea that to prevent game makers from killing each other, there must be limitations on this positive influence on their own strength. Now it seems that the list might not contain words like “martial arts supremacy” at all.
Thinking of Yu Yuan, Lin Sanjiu’s heart tightened a little.
A former comrade had become an enemy in the blink of an eye. Even if she couldn’t muster the hatred for enemies as Master Zhang hoped, regret and loss were inevitable.
While she was lost in thought, Master Zhang continued to speak, and then looked at her. “Are you listening?”
“I’m listening, I’m listening.”
“What did I just say?”
Lin Sanjiu fell silent, waiting for Mrs. Manas’s voice. Her subconscious would catch Master Zhang’s words, so she wasn’t worried—but after waiting for two seconds, where Mrs. Manas’s voice should have come from, there was only emptiness and silence.
Where was Mrs. Manas?
“Why aren’t you paying attention?” Master Zhang said. “Do you still want to work or not? If not, you can leave and allow yourself to be killed. Let me tell you—”
‘Wait, where is Mrs. Manas?’
“Before you met me, what was your state? Struggling on the brink of death! Utterly alone, dying here, and nobody would even know!”
‘I… I have Mrs. Manas in my mind, right?’
Lin Sanjiu stared at Master Zhang, listening to his lengthy reprimand, slowly growing uncertain in her heart. Yu Yuan was from an opposing faction, so that didn’t count; if she had always been alone, then Mrs. Manas obviously didn’t exist.
Her memory of Mrs. Manas… Was it just her imagination?
“I’ll repeat this one more time,” Master Zhang’s tone brought her attention back, “our next action plan is closely related to the second type of characters.”
Lin Sanjiu felt as if she had suddenly awakened from a long dream, realizing that her travel companion in her fantastical journey did not actually exist. Reality was like limestone, colorless, boring, and heavy. She had no interest in Master Zhang’s plan but had to pretend to be very engaged, nodding her head.
“They must have all put on the protective characters now, so even if you go out, you can’t do anything to them,” Master Zhang said. “They didn’t wear them before because, over these many months, all has been calm. We couldn’t act against each other, so a false sense of peace has formed. Now that you’ve come, their sense of crisis must have risen. Unless they see your corpse, I’m afraid no one will remove their protective characters.”
“I have a way to look like a corpse, very realistic,” Lin Sanjiu said. She felt that the tone was not quite like her, but it indeed came from her mouth—this feeling was like standing up in the morning to find that her legs had been replaced by someone else’s.
“Oh?”
With that, Lin Sanjiu got busy. She pulled out [Cosplay Enthusiasts Visited the Funeral Home Today], explained its usage in detail, and even demonstrated a few death poses. She had a vague sense that her contribution to the plan would probably have nothing to do with her, and that the beneficiary might not be her at all.
Master Zhang was both surprised and satisfied with the effect of this item.
“You do have quite a few odd things,” he kindly said. “I think this is very good. Anyone who sees it would believe it’s real. But there’s one thing: even if they see your corpse, they may not immediately remove their text protection. They might wait a while, perhaps until they take a shower someday. I can’t wait that long.”
That was true. Lin Sanjiu frowned as if she were puzzling over it too—because she had no choice not to. As the two were pondering in silence, Master Zhang’s eyes suddenly swept across the screen that had been turned back, and he exclaimed, “Hmm?”
“Why are these two coming this way?” He turned the screen back to show her.
Lin Sanjiu’s heart jumped, and she saw two black and white figures on the screen heading down a corridor, which seemed to lead to Master Zhang’s room. Yu Yuan was slightly behind, and Edgar Allan Poe was talking to him as they walked. Their voices gradually grew louder, sounding like a misplaced dubbing.
“My information is reliable; she’s in this room. She seems to be pretending to be a game maker. I guess she thinks you’re dead.” Poe’s voice became clearer until they stopped outside the door. “Hey, the door is open.”
Inside the room, Master Zhang and Lin Sanjiu looked at each other, somewhat at a loss.
‘Yu Yuan is coming to find me,’
Lin Sanjiu thought. If only Mrs. Manas were here to discuss—was that really her imagination?
The door, which was slightly blocked by a small bundle of Higher Consciousness, was still slightly ajar.
Lin Sanjiu considered this thought in her mind. There were two facts in front of her: one, she had Higher Consciousness; two, Mrs. Manas did not exist—no, that wasn’t right—as she thought this, her eyes happened to sweep across the characters behind Master Zhang, and like a strike to her brain, she suddenly understood. There was no contradiction between the two; who said that having Higher Consciousness must mean having Mrs. Manas? Master Zhang had said she was alone before, so who else should she believe?
Master Zhang didn’t close the door at the time because he wanted others to think something had happened in the room, so the owner—himself—didn’t even have time to close it. He didn’t expect someone to come so soon, especially Yu Yuan and Edgar Allan Poe, who had suddenly changed direction. For a moment, he stared in the direction of the doorway, his face pale.
“Is that you… Edgar Allan Poe?” Master Zhang asked, the question faint and weak.
It made Lin Sanjiu shudder as soon as it left his mouth. She quickly turned her head and saw that he had already stood up, leading two enormous characters behind him, step by step, toward the wall. Each step was taken with extreme care, the soft sound quickly swallowed up by the carpet. Soon, he had hidden himself and the gigantic characters behind the second wall, making him completely invisible from the hallway.
“Hey, are you… are you okay?” Edgar Allan Poe was taken aback. “I heard—”
“Yes,” Master Zhang replied in the same breathless voice, like a dying weasel. “That woman… she…”
As he spoke, he gave Lin Sanjiu a look and mouthed, “Hide.”
Looking around, Lin Sanjiu found no place to hide, so she turned to the desk and crouched down. The screen was facing away from her, a faint white light glowing around its edges. She hesitated for a moment and silently reached out, slowly turning it toward herself.
“She posed as the ninth game maker, right?” Poe said, hesitating at the threshold. “I heard—”
“Yes, luckily I reacted quickly. I passed out and just woke up. The woman is gone,” Master Zhang said slowly, like he was struggling to talk after an injury. “Her skills are too powerful; she actually managed to use my… my…”
“Use your what?” Edgar Allan Poe asked urgently.
Master Zhang sighed. As he turned his head, Lin Sanjiu had just withdrawn her hand from the computer, almost being caught red-handed. Master Zhang, not very observant, didn’t notice the screen had turned a circle and only mouthed to her, “Wait for my signal, then attack.”
“Come in, and close the door,” Master Zhang said. “I’m worried she’ll come back.”
Poe immediately agreed in a fluster. As he brought Yu Yuan into the room, Master Zhang said weakly, “I don’t know what she did, but … all of my protective characters suddenly tightened, almost breaking two of my ribs. My heart was about to burst; I was nearly crushed to death.”
Lin Sanjiu understood immediately—but Master Zhang’s command had not come yet, so she had to continue waiting silently behind the desk.
Edgar Allan Poe came in, his voice circling as he looked around. “Really?”
“I immediately took off the protective characters and haven’t summoned them back,” Master Zhang whispered from behind the second wall. “If you don’t believe me, just look.”
Yes… Lin Sanjiu inhaled softly.
While exploring the computer, she found that there were two sets of protective characters in the list of the second type of text. This meant that, apart from the set that had no owner after Little Demon died, Master Zhang had also taken off his protective characters.