«Lie detector test for the Creator»
The young researcher concealed his disdain, which was written all over his eyes as “get lost, you detestable landmark”, and masked it with a gentle demeanor, like a spring breeze or warm sunlight. Standing in front of He Fang, he tried to project calm, suppressing the turbulent emotions within, displaying the friendliest, most approachable smile, hoping to earn the favor of the Creator he revered through his gentleness.
“We’ll start with some simple questions to test the accuracy of the lie detector. Would you be willing?” he asked.
“Sure,” He Fang responded, offering no friendliness or goodwill to the NPC before him.
He Fang sat on the operating table, his legs dangling because the table was too high, leaving him feeling insecure as his feet couldn’t touch the floor. Though he was in a sealed room, He Fang still felt a subtle, chilly breeze behind him, as though the eyes of a demon were fixed on the vulnerable back of his neck.
A small magnetic piece of the lie detector was attached to his chest. Though there were no adhesives, it stuck firmly to his heart area. A fine, slender connecting wire emerged from the center of the piece, attaching a smaller circular magnet to the base of his neck.
The small lie detector didn’t cause discomfort, but He Fang did feel uneasy, as though his emotions were being meticulously analyzed, giving him an intense sense of being watched. He wasn’t sure if this feeling was his imagination.
Before attaching the lie detector, the young researcher had carefully warmed the cold device with his hands. His meticulous care had kept He Fang from sensing any hostility, so he managed to relax a little.
“What is your name?” The young researcher’s voice was soft, as though speaking to a timid, easily frightened child.
“He Fang,” He Fang answered.
“Are you the creator of this city?” The researcher asked again.
He Fang thought for a moment, deciding to provide a contrary answer to test the accuracy of the lie detector. “No,” he said.
The lie detector responded with a prompt. He Fang quickly corrected himself: “The ‘no’ I said was a lie; I am.”
The lie detector stopped indicating a lie.
He Fang was a little surprised. This lie detector was quite something.
“Do you like chives?” The researcher seemed to have seen through He Fang’s cautious thoughts, a subtle smile of helpless amusement appearing on his face as he asked a simple question.
“I don’t,” He Fang shook his head, but the lie detector beeped, indicating a lie. He was puzzled since he had spoken the truth.
Seeing this, the researcher reminded him, “City Lord, perhaps you could answer this question in more detail.”
He Fang thought for a moment and said, “I don’t like food like chive-filled dumplings or chive-filled pastries, but I really enjoy scrambled eggs with chives.”
This time, the lie detector remained silent. He Fang marveled at its precision.
The series of questions continued, with the lie detector showing astonishing accuracy, which made He Fang’s mood gradually become more complicated.
The researcher asked several ordinary questions one after another: “What time do you go to sleep?” “When was the last time you ate?” “Did you eat anything you didn’t like in the last few meals?” and other similar questions, all directly relating to his daily life.
Yet, every answer he gave was accurately detected by the lie detector.
This was just a game, wasn’t it? Had the sensory simulation pod secretly been monitoring his daily life? How else could it so precisely judge the truthfulness of his statements?
He Fang shook his head. That couldn’t be possible. If there were a 100% accurate lie detector, it would most likely be used by the military, not something ordinary people could use in a game.
“The lie detector is performing well so far. May I ask a few more formal questions?” The researcher seemed to notice He Fang’s unease and changed the subject directly. “If you feel the experiment is not enough, we can try a few more tests.”
“That’s enough,” He Fang said, breaking into a cold sweat. The feeling of being seen through by the lie detector wasn’t pleasant.
He Fang ultimately attributed this eerily precise lie detection to big data. On a typical day, he’d mention an electric toothbrush, and the next day he’d see electric toothbrush recommendations on a shopping app. He set an alarm in the morning, and his takeaway orders were recorded—perhaps everything could be traced online after all.
“City Lord, do you like the city you created?” The young researcher moved on from questions with clear answers and chose one that was more ambiguous and deeply personal.
He Fang answered without hesitation, responding directly: “Yes.”
With just two simple words, the researcher slightly pursed his lips. A smile bloomed in his eyes, as intense as a blooming flower. He Fang was even affected by his sudden joy, and the tension in his nerves eased slightly.
“Would you want to stay here forever?” The young researcher’s voice became lively, like a happy child.
He Fang’s previously tense emotions began to relax. He had been worried about the personal questions, but now the researcher’s inquiry clearly felt like an official survey disguised as a question in the game.
“I really hope I can continue building this city. For that, I’ve always been cautious and thoughtful in my research.” So far, the development of He Fang’s city has been going well.
After the launch of “Ruins Without Restart”, the open world’s high freedom had not been restricted. Social anxiety didn’t mean He Fang was unwilling to interact with people; rather, he didn’t know how to have proper, healthy communication. Interaction with in-game NPCs didn’t require much thought and there was no pressure like communicating with real people. “Ruins Without Restart” was, for him, a sanctuary.
“Can I take this to mean that you deeply cherish this city and its residents?” The researcher asked eagerly, his excitement growing.
“Of course.” He Fang had invested a lot of patience into the game. From starting with just twenty or thirty people to developing into a small city of 20,000, he had dedicated three years, progressing steadily and cautiously.
There have been cases where players developed their cities at an extremely fast pace, reaching millions of people. However, due to poor initial planning, frequent updates to the city, and overwhelming population growth, the financial situation became tight and the happiness and mental well-being of the residents declined drastically. This led to rapid population loss, a sharp increase in crime, and the law becoming ineffective. Eventually, the city turned into a death trap. Players who logged in would only see the rampant crime within their city, unable to save it. In the end, they chose to destroy their accounts.
Having learned from past mistakes, He Fang took his responsibilities seriously, precisely controlling the birth and death rates of the population, fearful of making even the smallest mistake.
He Fang snapped out of his thoughts to find the young researcher gazing at him with eyes filled with crystalline tears, clearly moved.
He Fang was stunned. Why was the NPC suddenly crying?
“With your words, even if I had to give up my life, I would have no complaints,” the researcher declared earnestly, even speaking as if he were willing to die for it.
“If you can, please don’t die. The city’s population is really not that large right now,” He Fang said, feeling the researcher was just following a scripted line to flatter the player. He casually teased, “Anyway, if I mess up, aren’t you all the quickest to leave?”
That remark, like a spark falling into a pile of dry grass, immediately ignited the young researcher’s emotions. But even so, he remained calm, not daring to overstep, and tried to show his sincerity: “I would only die within the city. I would never betray it!”
He Fang was taken aback by the researcher’s fervor. He wasn’t good at handling overly emotional people, so he simply replied, “Oh.”
However, the lie detector immediately began beeping, exposing He Fang’s inner doubt despite his outward agreement, making the situation incredibly awkward.
Seeing that He Fang didn’t believe him, the researcher anxiously paced back and forth, with a touch of grievance on his perfect face.
He Fang suddenly felt guilty for doubting his own residents and quickly opened the young researcher’s profile from the previous year. To his shock, he discovered that the researcher’s loyalty was a staggering 6,000%.
He Fang gasped. The average was just over 3,000. This researcher’s loyalty was double the average?!
“I believe you, I really do,” He Fang said, realizing that doubting the researcher was completely unreasonable.
The researcher, with a slightly resentful look in his eyes, secretly checked the lie detector several times, making sure He Fang was not lying before reluctantly switching from a gloomy expression to a bright one.
“We don’t need to test anymore,” He Fang said, thinking the lie detector was like a ticking time bomb.
“Okay… um…” The researcher, who had originally planned to agree, suddenly became distracted, repeatedly glancing over He Fang’s shoulder. He Fang was puzzled, but because of the researcher’s “don’t look back” warning, he didn’t dare move.
He Fang’s scalp tingled just thinking about more questions. He tentatively asked, “Are there any other questions?”
“Uh… there are a few more. Can you…?” The young researcher blinked nervously, his unease clear.
“Oh…” He Fang was reluctant but still agreed, “Go ahead.”
The young researcher was now extremely conflicted.
Behind the Creator, the Divine Lord, now materialized, is holding up a small sign in the window: “Ask my beloved Creator about his conditions for choosing a mate.”
The young researcher didn’t want to acknowledge the Divine Lord, who was always trying to draw attention and disrupt things when it came to the Creator.
But the young researcher was very eager to know the Creator’s conditions for choosing a mate.
He was forced into it; it wasn’t intentional. It was all the Divine Lord’s fault.
“Uh… what are your conditions for choosing a mate?” The young researcher deceived himself and chose to use the unreliable Divine Lord to satisfy his little personal curiosity.
He Fang: “…”
He Fang awkwardly scratched his hair.
He remained silent.
The researcher’s eyes flickered. He asked again, “What color hair do you like?”
He Fang: “…”
He Fang stayed silent.
In the silence between He Fang’s responses, the young researcher suddenly snapped out of his trance, regained his clarity, and walked around He Fang, heading straight for the window. He locked eyes with the Divine Lord.
The Divine Lord immediately understood what the young researcher was trying to do and quickly shook his head in rejection. His golden hair, flowing like clear, rushing water under the morning sun, desperately expressed refusal and reluctance.
But the young researcher, with cold ice in his eyes, pulled the curtains shut without mercy.
At that moment, He Fang felt the warm fingers of the researcher close by, as he removed the lie detector from his neck with an apologetic voice coming from behind: “I’m really sorry, City Lord, I’ve made things awkward for you. I’ll punish myself by donating half of my salary for six months to the city’s income.”
He Fang gasped: “No need to…”
Donate half his salary just for asking a couple of extra questions?
“No, I must donate!” The young researcher despised his own selfishness. “I can’t believe I made things difficult for the City Lord just to satisfy my own desires. My sin is unforgivable!”
He Fang: “…”
He Fang: “…Why don’t we go ask Min Zhizhou instead?”
He Fang couldn’t handle it.
He Fang changed the subject.
When Min Zhizhou heard about the lie detector’s use, he immediately took off his shirt in front of all the researchers, revealing his muscular frame.
He Fang looked at the muscles, then at his own white, chicken-like appearance, and was relieved that the lie detector session took place in a small room. Otherwise, the comparison would have been rather embarrassing.
Unlike the more personal questions directed at He Fang, the researchers’ gazes toward Min Zhizhou were as cold as they would be for a lifeless information-processing machine, impersonal to the point it sent a chill down one’s spine.
“Do we have accurate data on the source of the Nightmare Beast seeds?”
“How many forms of Nightmare Plants are you currently aware of, and what is their density? How many Nightmare Beast seeds can the Nightmare Plants themselves store?”
“How are the Nightmare Beast seeds valued?”
“What is the difference in the mobility of a living organism when parasitized by a Nightmare Beast seed compared to when it is not? What is the range of activity, and is it a full or partial parasitism?”
A series of detailed questions, completely different from the way He Fang was asked.
He Fang watched helplessly as the young researcher, who had previously seemed a bit clumsy, was now operating a computer that He Fang couldn’t even begin to understand. He suddenly felt completely out of place in this professional atmosphere.
The researcher’s voice, with no fluctuation, sounded like a teacher lecturing to children. He Fang began to feel drowsy.
After a long while, He Fang suddenly heard the sound of a door opening, followed by the words “The armor analysis is complete,” and he realized that he had fallen asleep in the game.
He had fallen asleep in the game? Could this be a game setting that allows players to quickly skip unnecessary parts of the storyline?
He noticed that he was wearing a white lab coat that didn’t belong to him.
At this point, the researchers had already begun discussing their divergent thoughts after receiving the information. He Fang saw Min Zhizhou speaking with lips so dry they were peeling, yet there was no water in sight.
He Fang quietly walked over to the water dispenser, hoping to show a little sympathy for Min Zhizhou, but someone immediately took the disposable cup from his hand and gently smiled at him, saying, “City Lord, I’ll handle it. Please, sit down.”
He Fang watched as the gentle female researcher filled the cup and then slammed it down in front of Min Zhizhou, coldly saying, “Drink.”
He Fang: “…”
Min Zhizhou: “…”
The difference in treatment was so obvious that the NPC probably didn’t understand what “awkwardness” meant.
“From the nature of the armor, it can be concluded that although the Nightmare Beast seed attaches to life activities and traces of activity, it requires physical interaction. It cannot control non-physical forces like wind, air pressure, or gravity. This means the Nightmare Beast seed is a clearly defined physical entity.”
“So that’s why a light sword can deal lethal damage to the Nightmare Beast seed.”
“If a person is parasitized by a Nightmare Beast seed, they will become a Nightmare Beast, gaining high-level mental or physical abilities at the cost of rapidly decreasing their lifespan. I’m really curious about the operational principle of this seed.”
“From what we know about the seed’s characteristics, it seems difficult to collect. We need something non-man-made to control the Nightmare Beast seed.”
He Fang was utterly confused.
He came here to figure out how to resist the invasion of the Nightmare Beast seeds, right?
Why does it now seem like they’re discussing how to collect the seeds for experiments?
Is this really okay?
“Everyone, there’s something we need to pay attention to.” Suddenly, the young researcher looked up from the massive data logs. “Earlier, Mr. Min mentioned that when he entered the Nightmare Beast forest outside the city, he was accompanied by five teammates.”
Instantly, the entire research room fell silent.
The young researcher analyzed the data, “After the Nightmare Beast seed parasitizes a human, it controls the body. So, where are Mr. Min’s five teammates now? Since Mr. Min was able to cross the Nightmare Beast forest to get here, based on the data… no, should his former teammates, who have already become Nightmare Beasts, also be able to reach the outskirts of the city?”
He Fang’s eyes slowly widened.
He had never expected this.
There should still be five surviving Nightmare Beasts in the Nightmare Beast forest nearby!!!
