ATIGIBTC Chapter 37 Part 2

«The Creator is missing, the whole city is in despair»

Too terrifying, too terrifying. He Fang couldn’t help but smack his lips.

At first, he thought this game wouldn’t have any earth-shattering surprises—after all, it was just a simple city-building game. But after witnessing Chong Xiao’s combat prowess, He Fang wasn’t so sure anymore.

In a very short time, they had already gathered an overwhelming amount of information on the Revival Nightmare Plants. Just as He Fang had suspected, their distribution followed a certain pattern.

“Chong Xiao, that’s enough. Come on up!” He Fang called out while beginning to lower the aircraft. However, just then, he heard two soft ‘thud thud’ sounds behind him, like footsteps landing lightly. He turned around for a glance and abruptly halted the descent.

He Fang’s eyes widened as he quickly estimated the aircraft’s height above the ground. Then, he looked at Chong Xiao, who had already climbed aboard and was now leaning casually to the side.

He Fang: “…”

There was only one Chong Xiao in his city…

But hey, the city had thirty thousand people now…

Having one with freakish physical abilities wasn’t too much to ask for, right? Haha…

He Fang carefully recalled the map of the newly developed land. Although he hadn’t personally participated in the excavation, he had observed the details closely. Now, he pieced together his observations, analyzed the entire map, and cross-referenced it with the distribution of the Revival Nightmare Plants.

Before his eyes, a rough but comprehensive city planning blueprint began to take shape—an urban layout built upon the remnants of a once-thriving Nightmare Beast Forest. He Fang continuously connected the dots, forming lines in his mind.

Behind him, Chong Xiao’s pitch-black pupils remained locked on He Fang’s focused side profile. His already deep gaze grew even darker.

He Fang furrowed his brows slightly before his eyes suddenly lit up. “This direction—I think this is the right direction. Chong Xiao, what do you think?”

With the blueprint in hand, everything became clearer.

Chong Xiao said nothing, merely watching the excited young man.

He Fang’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Though he couldn’t be entirely certain, he was confident in his analysis. He had spent so much time on city planning, researching new urban development projects, and studying geographical features like the mountains and rivers surrounding his current city. Now, all of that knowledge had become valuable data for his deductions—he had successfully identified a direction!

“This is it, this is definitely it! Ahhh…” He Fang loved games—any kind of game. Puzzle games, strategy games, and even riddle-solving games. He had played plenty of tower defense games. Game designs often share some common principles.

Unless his intelligence failed him, he never consulted guides. He was addicted to the process of unraveling mysteries step by step. It was a thrill—an ultimate satisfaction. And if he managed to crack something that even the entire internet hadn’t figured out yet, his mood would skyrocket!

Who wouldn’t love the feeling of being rewarded after hard work?

The joy of solving a mystery was the best reward of all!

“Although I’m absolutely certain this is the right place, just in case, I’ll give you a chance to refute me.”

Even in his excitement, He Fang didn’t forget to consider all possibilities. After all, in many games, failing to obtain crucial clues from NPCs could lead to a total party wipe.

Chong Xiao remained silent, his deep eyes unreadable. He simply pressed down on the brim of his hat slightly but didn’t respond.

“Alright then, we’ll proceed according to my plan!” He Fang’s eyes widened with excitement and anticipation. “Watch me!”

He adjusted the aircraft’s speed and carefully calculated the time it would take to travel from their current location to the stopping point. As long as he maintained the same speed and duration while heading in his planned direction, the margin of error would be within ten minutes. If they still hadn’t exited by then, it would mean his plan had failed.

It was indeed risky, but not every game rewarded caution.

He Fang still remembered a particular mission he had played before.

The goal was to reach the lowest level within a set time limit. The map had numerous landing spots, yet no matter how he jumped, he always failed in the end. Who would have thought that the real way to clear the level was to jump straight down?

Sure, falling meant death. By a player’s common sense, dying equaled mission failure. But the game never specified that he had to stay alive to reach the endpoint. As long as he reached it—even in death—it still counted as clearing the level!

All he had to do was jump!

Just charge forward, and that was it!

A grin full of eagerness spread across He Fang’s face. He gripped the controls and flew straight toward the darkness at full speed.

When bright light once again filled his vision, He Fang cheered loudly, “I’m amazing! I’m so amazing! I’m ridiculously amazing! Hahahaha!”

He loved games too much.

He loved this sense of accomplishment!

His excitement was about to burst out of his chest. He spun around, eager to share his triumph with the only NPC teammate on this mission—only to find the cabin door open.

Chong Xiao was gone.

He Fang: “???”

At that moment, Chong Xiao was half-kneeling on the back of the aircraft. His military-green uniform stood out starkly against the aircraft’s white surface. One hand pressed down on his hat to keep it from being blown away by the wind, while the other covered his face.

His body trembled unconsciously.

A trembling so intense, so suppressed, that it absolutely couldn’t be seen by others.

He Fang saw that all the measurement values on the aircraft had returned to normal, so he immediately contacted Zhu Yan. “Zhu Yan? Zhu Yan?”

However, there was no response for a long time.

Finally, Zhu Yan’s face reappeared on the side display screen of He Fang’s aircraft. “City Lord, congratulations on your safe return. All researchers are now in position and fully prepared to collect data. We have been eagerly awaiting your return.”

Something about Zhu Yan seemed a little off. He Fang vaguely felt that something was strange.

On the screen, he noticed something unusual—something stuck to the top of Zhu Yan’s head. But due to the limited display size, He Fang couldn’t make out what it was.

As he tried to focus and get a clearer look, his peripheral vision caught sight of something on the ground behind his aircraft—an extremely long convoy.

The vehicles were all lined up neatly, their fronts facing the Nightmare Beast Forest.

He Fang: “?”

His curiosity was overwhelming, but he still had to complete the experiment. He piloted the aircraft back to the starting point.

Stepping out of the cockpit, he was immediately greeted by the sight of a man in black standing before him. At the same time, Chong Ying came sprinting over, calling out anxiously, “Brother! City Lord!” His face was filled with barely concealed worry.

Behind the researchers who were rushing forward to record data, He Fang finally spotted Zhu Yan.

As always, Zhu Yan’s elegant and aloof demeanor remained unchanged. He stood at the entrance of the weapons development facility, gazing at He Fang with his usual unreadable expression. Shadows from the doorway cast over him, adding an even more mysterious aura.

And then, He Fang saw it—

Right above Zhu Yan’s head, a symbol he knew all too well appeared.

A red question mark!

He Fang’s eyes widened in shock. An NPC mission!

Since “Ruins Without Restart” launched online—this was only the second mission!

He Fang immediately wanted to rush over to Zhu Yan and accept the mission. However, just as he took his first step, a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelmed him.

Sensing that something was wrong, He Fang immediately logged out.

The researchers, who had been preparing to record data and celebrate the success of the first test flight, were left standing there in stunned silence as the wind swept past them.

The moment He Fang opened his eyes inside the sensory simulation pod, he knew something was wrong. The familiar dizziness hit him hard, making his stomach churn. His head felt heavy and foggy, and even sitting up became a struggle.

Gripping the edges of the pod for support, he tried several times to steady himself, but each attempt ended with him crouching down, unable to withstand the dizziness. In the end, as nausea became unbearable, he staggered toward the bathroom in a few hurried steps and finally threw up violently.

He had been playing for hours, and most of the food in his stomach had already been digested. After the initial retching, all he could vomit was stomach acid.

Though the experience was awful, the dizziness eased significantly after throwing up. He Fang lay beside the toilet for a while before forcing himself to stand. He rinsed his mouth with cold water, splashed his face, and used the temperature change to help clear his head. Then, he returned to bed, pressing an ice-cold towel against his forehead.

In the pitch-black, confined space, a sense of panic triggered another wave of his 3D motion sickness. The complex data collection and calculations had kept him too preoccupied to notice his discomfort before.

Now that everything had settled and his brain had shifted from excitement back to normal, the physical backlash hit him like a tidal wave, amplified several times over.

He Fang had no choice but to log out immediately.

There had been news reports of people choking to death on their own vomit. He definitely didn’t want to be one of them—imagine dying because he got too into a game and ended up suffocating on his own puke.

He Fang’s head throbbed painfully, especially at the crown. The dizziness and pain together made this the worst he’d felt since living alone. Unable to bear it anymore, he shut his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

He slept fitfully until deep into the night. When he woke up, his entire body felt weak, drenched in sweat. The dizziness was gone, but now something even worse hit him—he was starving. So hungry his vision blurred, his body screaming for food, desperately needing sustenance.

Lying still in bed, he felt like he couldn’t move a single finger. But he had no choice—there was no one around to help him. He had to get up.

He dragged himself to the fridge and grabbed a chocolate bar, eating it quickly to get some sugar into his system. At the same time, he opened his food delivery app and started ordering. The chocolate was good, but he needed carbs to fill the emptiness in his stomach. He ordered dumplings, noodles, and even a dessert. He knew he probably wouldn’t be able to finish everything, but right now, he just wanted to order as much as he could.

It had been a long time since he felt this kind of hunger. He anxiously stared at the delivery tracker, watching as the delivery guy took his sweet time waiting at the restaurant. There were still three minutes before pickup. He Fang’s eyes were glued to those three minutes, willing them to pass faster.

I’m starving—I’m gonna die at this rate.

Unable to hold back, he grabbed a chocolate-flavored ice cream bar and ate it. The sugar helped ease the weakness in his limbs a little.

Watching the delivery guy get closer and closer to his place, He Fang didn’t want to waste time talking on the phone. He grabbed some paper and a pen, scribbled a note, and stuck it to the door: “Leave the food at the door and knock three times. Thanks for your hard work.”

Then, as a small reward for the late-night delivery, he placed a bottle of water outside.

He Fang sat near the door, staring at the tracker, growing more impatient as the delivery guy approached. Finally, after hearing three knocks, he rushed to the peephole to check if the guy had left.

And in that moment, for the first time, He Fang got a good look at the delivery guy who had been bringing him food all this time.

He was tall. Really tall.

The peephole was already set at a high position, but He Fang could only see the guy’s shoulder.

His hair was an unmistakable shade of pure gold, gleaming like sunlight. It was tied back with a simple band—except that band didn’t look like an ordinary hair tie. It had a fluffy, fur-like texture as if it was designed to resemble actual fur.

The delivery guy entered the elevator and disappeared from sight. Only after hearing the sound of the elevator doors closing did He Fang finally open his own door. Like a thief finding treasure, he swiftly gathered the takeout into his arms. As he reached out to peel off the note from his door, he realized—

It was gone.

The door was completely bare.

He Fang was baffled. Why would the delivery guy take his note? Was he upset?

He recalled hearing before that his usual delivery guy was particularly serious about his job. Was not calling or texting him actually something offensive enough to make him mad?

But I left him a drink! If he was still mad after that, then that’d be a bit much.

However, as He Fang opened the plastic bag, a piece of paper suddenly appeared in front of him.

He froze.

It was a simple white sheet, with a single line written in black ink: Enjoy your meal. Make sure to eat slowly—eating too much at once can upset your stomach.

The handwriting was beautiful—so neat and elegant that He Fang had the sudden urge to keep it. Out of curiosity, he flipped the paper over, wondering if it was handwritten or just printed. Through the back, he could see faint impressions of pen strokes.

It was handwritten.

Did the restaurant write this? He Fang was intrigued, but right now, all he cared about was digging into his food.

The dumplings and fried noodles were delicious. Maybe because it was so late at night and there weren’t many delivery orders, his food had arrived fast and was still fresh and steaming hot. The aroma filled the air, making his stomach growl. He Fang didn’t even bother with any condiments before popping three dumplings straight into his mouth.

The dumplings were “family assorted”, meaning he had no idea what filling he’d get with each bite. In his rush to order, he had forgotten to uncheck the option for chive-and-egg dumplings. Oddly enough, he never ended up biting into one.

Huh. Lucky.

After finishing the dumplings, He Fang moved on to the fried noodles. The flavor was great. As he ate, he realized something—lately, the food delivery in his area seemed to have gotten way better.

Were the restaurants competing now? Had the market become so cutthroat that everyone was stepping up their game?

Great. Keep competing. That just means better food for us customers.

Now that the dumplings were gone, he ate the noodles more slowly, savoring them.

As he ate, he sat at his computer, logged into his account, and pulled up a previous discussion he had seen—something about how planes couldn’t enter Nightmare Beast Forest. He scrolled through the comments, checking for any new insights on the subject.

Nothing.

The comments were mostly things he already knew—nothing new or particularly useful.

He Fang absentmindedly chewed his noodles while thinking.

This whole incident had given him quite a bit of information.

For one, in “Ruins Without Restart”, the sky had a hard limit—players couldn’t ascend indefinitely. The max altitude seemed to be 10,000 meters, which wasn’t even as high as real-life commercial airplanes. That likely meant the game didn’t include space exploration. All activities were restricted to the planet’s surface.

But then why set the altitude cap at 10,000 meters?

Most likely, aerial combat was allowed.

That would explain why Yuan Zhiran was so insistent on forming an air force—it was probably a core part of the game’s design.

Although He Fang had stumbled into Nightmare Beast Forest by accident and failed to fully grasp its internal structure, he had still managed to gather some useful information.

For instance, aircraft could indeed be used within the forest, but all signals were blocked. While detection was possible, it was meaningless—nothing could penetrate the forest’s barriers to reveal what lay deeper inside.

If he wanted to leave, he might lose all contact with the city. Being cut off was dangerous. Maintaining real-time information exchange was crucial. He needed to find a solution for that.

At least, he was now certain that the forest wasn’t a one-way trap—players could enter and exit. However, navigating inside was nearly impossible. The only landmark that could serve as a guide was the distribution of Revival Nightmare Plants, yet recognizing them accurately was too difficult. Worse still, he and Chong Xiao had destroyed a significant number of them, meaning their distribution might have changed.

If they couldn’t find a way to conquer the forest, expanding the city itself might be a solution.

His idea? Establish an entry point into the Nightmare Beast Forest and extend the city outward in a single direction, gradually clearing the forest along a fixed path. Eventually, they might reach a point beyond the forest’s boundaries.

It was a clumsy and time-consuming method, a last resort. But at least it was something.

He Fang pondered as he ate, but halfway through his noodles, he put them down.

He tried searching online for any walkthroughs, but there was nothing. The only thing he found were in-game clips—short videos that looked as if the NPCs themselves had filmed their daily lives and uploaded them to some kind of social media.

He Fang was frustrated.

Was he the only one interested in exploring Nightmare Beast Forest?

Or… had his lack of shared information discouraged others from even trying?

By now, He Fang was certain—”Ruins Without Restart” had evolved into an even more immersive, open-world sandbox, packed with puzzles and exploration. The depth of this particular challenge was both frustrating and thrilling. Combined with the game’s hyper-realistic sensory experience, it was easily a contender for Best Game of the Year.

The only issue? The sensory simulation pod was ridiculously expensive.

He Fang turned to look at his own sensory simulation pod, reaffirming that his luck really wasn’t bad.

After finishing his dessert, he gazed out at the pitch-black night.

Originally, he had planned to go back to sleep.

But the glowing quest marker floating above Zhu Yan’s head from before was itching at him.

If he didn’t accept the quest now, it might disappear.

No matter what, he had to check it out and take that quest!

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