Published at 8th of October 2024 3:14 am

Chapter 1540: What Lin Sanjiu Takes Away and What Lin Sanjiu Gives

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

During the time she was waiting to be sent to the underground gaming space, Lily felt nervous enough to vomit on several occasions. However, she bent over and tried to dry heave a few times, but nothing came out, and she didn’t know whether it was because she had turned into text or because she felt like she hadn’t eaten in a long time.

Lin Sanjiu had been absent from the intercom for a while, but the last few words she said were still crashing around in Lily’s mind.

“I just discussed with my friend, and if we bypass some settings, I should be able to get you into the underground gaming space,” she had said at the time, “so you can understand the situation and make a decision. But… there’s no way to call out human text in the underground space, and I can only make you part of the underground facility. That means, once you go down, you can never come out again. So, think carefully—”

“Send me down,” Lily said. Although she didn’t understand some parts, she understood the most crucial part. What difference did it make if she could never come up again? What was the essential difference between being deleted on the surface and being deleted underground?

If she went down, she could at least see a familiar face.

She and Lin Sanjiu were not even close friends, and the changes in Lin Sanjiu even made her feel a bit frightened. However, if today was her last day to live, she would prefer to have someone she knew to send her off. It was much more comforting than being deleted in a place full of unfamiliar surroundings and corpses.

Lily tried to brace herself, but her palms were still sweaty. Lin Sanjiu’s voice startled her when it rang out, “Are you ready?”

Lily exhaled and murmured, “Yes.”

The process of being reconverted to text and then re-materialized wasn’t as terrifying as she thought. It felt as if she had blinked, and she was already in a different place.

Lily turned around and examined the massive circular hall she found herself in, her eyes lingering on the gray concrete ceiling above. It would be the last thing she saw in her life, she realized. If she were still on the surface, she could be controlled by others below to go where she wanted… No, never mind whether it was practical or not, it would not be as pleasant as being deleted.

“Are you ready?” Lin Sanjiu’s voice brought her back to reality.

The slight comfort of seeing a familiar face was quickly overshadowed by a strange fear. As Lin Sanjiu and another young girl Lily didn’t recognize walked into the hall and approached her, Lily even felt the urge to jump up and run. She wasn’t afraid of Lin Sanjiu, but she seemed instinctively to feel that Lin Sanjiu must have experienced some significant shock; now, the aftershock was about to hit her, and she subconsciously wanted to flee.

However, Lily eventually managed to stand still. She glanced at Lin Sanjiu and asked, “What do you want to tell me?”

“Sit down,” Lin Sanjiu said, gesturing towards the lounge area in the hall. “They used to discuss game content here in the hall, and I can project the past games for you to see.”

“Really… Were those games really designed by posthumans themselves?” Lily asked as she slowly sat down on the sofa. Now that she had sat down, the corpses piled under the dining table nearby became more apparent in her peripheral vision. She resisted the urge to look back. “Those people?”

“And who knows how many before them,” Lin Sanjiu said with a slight bitter smile, sitting down beside her. The long-haired girl sat quietly on the armrest next to Lin Sanjiu.

“Let’s start with this one,” Lin Sanjiu said after thinking for a moment. Without making any noticeable movements, a white cloth suddenly fell in front of them. Acting as what Lin Sanjiu referred to as a “document,” when the game content appeared on it, Lily couldn’t help but gasp— she hadn’t expected that she could see the game as if she were immersed in it.

Lily was the first to see a simulated war game. All the posthumans who entered the battlefield area had to participate in the first round of the General Selection. The players utilized the rules and props within the game to turn as many others into their soldiers as possible. If they didn’t make others into their soldiers, they themselves would become someone else’s soldiers. The difference in skill was clear at a glance.

After the Generals appeared one after another and took control of various territories within the game, it turned into a melee between warlords fighting to conquer each other’s lands. The person who designed this game seemed to be a compulsive gambler, unable to control his addiction. He often used this game to gamble in underground gaming spaces, betting on who would win. If he came across an exciting battle, he would even record it, complete with commentary. It was because of this that Lily unfortunately watched more than ten minutes of the war footage.

This wasn’t a war between modern nations, governed by treaties and restraint. The players engaged with complete commitment, resulting in primal battles between tribes—chaos, madness, and bloodlust that could make one doubt whether they were the same species as the people in the video.

“I don’t want to watch anymore,” she said, knowing without looking that her face had turned pale. “What’s next?”

What came next, and after that, and the three to five more that Lin Sanjiu showed her made her feel uncomfortable in its own way. Not every game was violent; for instance, there was one about catching traitors, which didn’t threaten lives, and there were simulation business games that didn’t require any fighting. Regardless of the surface appearance of the games, Lily found herself involuntarily turning away, time and again feeling resentment towards Lin Sanjiu. She herself had experienced these games, so why was she showing them to her? Wasn’t this just torture?

Lin Sanjiu seemed to notice her emotions and paused the game presentation, saying, “Many game makers didn’t initially design something where it’s a life-and-death situation, but as time went on, things gradually became twisted. Among game makers, their games have become tools for gaining control, building future advantages, domesticating players, etc. Even among themselves, the games have various uses. They serve as entertainment like reality shows and as demonstrations of power. The more brutal the game, the less likely others are to provoke you.”

“I don’t understand how some games could reach such a point then,” Lily murmured.

“It didn’t happen overnight,” the girl beside Lin Sanjiu interjected. “If today you can accept a person crying, tomorrow you can accept a person bleeding. If you were in that environment, you might become desensitized too. And who doesn’t want to play God?”

Lily lowered her head, her mind in turmoil, unsure what to think. Finally, she asked, “Aren’t there any good games?”

Because of this question, she got to watch the content of “Rescue Station.”

The game itself was beyond reproach, with no traps or hidden dangers. Lily even felt moved as she watched. If Horst had been fortunate enough to find such a game, he wouldn’t have died. There was no footage of the Rescue Station game, only the game text. She read it several times and sighed. “Isn’t this good?”

Lin Sanjiu was silent for a moment, staring at the Rescue Station game on the screen. There were countless thoughts in her mind, like surging undercurrents deep in the ocean. But on the surface, her expression was like a gently undulating, almost calm sea.

“It was after I saw this game, and Nüwa’s… Oh, you don’t know her, we can talk about her later. Anyway, it was after reading Nüwa’s record that I thought of a suggestion for you,” Lin Sanjiu continued.

Lily turned to her and asked, “What suggestion?”

“The records say that since the Rescue Station game was established, it has reduced the death rate of posthumans within tens of thousands of meters by 46%, and the occurrence of severe injuries, disabilities, or mental disorders has been reduced by over 35%,” Lin Sanjiu said softly. “But there’s another piece of data.”

Before Lily could ask, she continued, “Games all have requirements for the number of participants. The larger the scale, the more people are required, and if there are not enough players, the game may not be able to start for a long time. This data records the success rate of gathering the required number of players for each game within this range, excluding the rescue station. Compared to before the rescue station appeared, this number greatly increased since its appearance, and the speed of recruiting players for the next round also increased. Volunteers waiting at the door of the rescue station can always find people who have just been discharged.”

“It’s understandable, because fewer people die, so the survivors who have just healed their wounds are caught by other games,” Lily said, then suddenly paused. “Hey, if he wants to save people, why doesn’t he stop the other game makers? They… are all in the same space, right?”

Lin Sanjiu nodded.

The three of them sat in strange silence for a moment before she continued with a sigh. “I can’t dismantle this gaming space. If it doesn’t exist in this apocalyptic world, then another form I can’t predict will occupy the void it leaves. If I leave and it returns to its previous operating mode, entrusting the fate of a group of people to another unpredictable group, then I… I can’t bear the thought of it.”

She turned her head, looking into Lily’s eyes. “The pain that your current form of existence brings you… I can only imagine. The game took away your identity as a human, and I took away the illusion that you still had a little control over yourself. What I want to do now is to give you something back.”

Lily seemed to be frozen, unable to move as she waited.

“You don’t have to live for survival anymore, so you can choose to cease to exist, or you can choose to live for a purpose, a responsibility in this chaotic world, starting today. Become the manager of the underground gaming space. Are you willing to accept this mission?”

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