Until his complete demise, the miracle he had hoped for never appeared.
Li Chu lost his life for the second time, and this time, it would be nearly impossible to find him in the world again.
The crowd in front of the screen fell silent, staring at the scene before them, unable to utter a single word.
However, in this silence, Xin Meng spoke up, his voice echoing not just here, but in the ears of every GM.
[The Infinite Reincarnation System was created by scientists a thousand years later after a century of research. It is supported by a supercomputer that can simultaneously run 150 million horror games and accommodate 1.2 billion players.]
[The age limit for game players is between 18 and 40 years old, spanning all eras of the past, present, and future. The original intention of the game was to—save their lives, giving these young people who died prematurely a chance to live again.]
[Initially, all departed souls could be properly accommodated in the game, but as the number of souls increased year by year, it gradually exceeded the game’s capacity, necessitating a selection process. Eventually, after modifications by scientists, it transformed into the current “Horror Game Infinite Reincarnation System,” where players must continuously strive to survive in horror games, unlocking their potential. Those who excel enough can obtain permanent residency rights and bear the obligation to maintain the system, while others will gradually be eliminated by the system to make room for the next batch of players.]
Most people were immersed in this unprecedented “secret,” but Wan Xing, who was not far from Xin Meng, could not accept it. He couldn’t help but pick a fight: “Does that mean ordinary people who aren’t good enough have no right to live?”
Xin Meng glanced at him, but it seemed he didn’t take him seriously at all.
[Those who are already dead, every second in the game is an extra gift.]
Wan Xing had no rebuttal.
Thinking about it, it was indeed just dying once more, returning to the original trajectory of fate, not being killed for no reason. From this perspective, the game system did seem to be doing a good deed.
At least it truly gave them GMs a chance to live again…
Perhaps among millions of players, the ones who could survive were rare, with very low odds, but for those few chosen ones, the odds were one hundred percent.
Since they were already dead, having one more chance to revive was a win.
Xin Meng continued.
[Every one of your jobs is meaningful. By maintaining the normal operation of the game, your companions will increase, and the number of people who survive will grow. If the system can be upgraded, it can accommodate more souls, giving more people hope for survival.]
[The pain, fear, and torment during this period are merely the corresponding price. Where can one find a good thing that allows them to live again without any cost?]
[I inform all “survivors” of this matter because I do not wish to see another foolish “rebellion.” If anyone cannot accept the truth and still wants to return to the real world, come find me, and I will send you home.]
The moment the words “send you home” came out, everyone present who had witnessed his earlier conversation with Li Chu broke out in a cold sweat, each one as quiet as a chicken, afraid to speak, lest they be “sent home.”
It was likely that for a long time, they would have a serious psychological shadow regarding these three words.
“Who are you?” Suddenly, someone asked.
This person was not in Xin Meng’s world, but Xin Meng could still hear him.
He spoke coldly:
[My name is Simon, I am an artificial intelligence, and also the main system of the supercomputer.]
Simon?
Everyone unconsciously looked down at their arms, where there was a standardized armband, a black background with a silver artistic uppercase S, with a lowercase m that twisted through like a snake, or perhaps just a casually drawn wavy line.
Simon…
“Is there anyone else who wants to go home?” Xin Meng’s voice grew colder, this time only the person in front of him could hear.
Everyone shook their heads vigorously, even the dim-witted Dou Dou dared not make a sound, his hands clasped behind him like a primary school student, trying hard to show him a well-behaved expression.
Xin Meng’s expression softened a bit.
“Just do what you need to do.” Xin Meng pointed at Wan Xing and Cheng Jiali, “Untie them too.”
The GMs obediently untied the two, then teamed up to flee for their lives, running faster than if they were being chased by ghosts, as if this place was the most terrifying horror game scene.
Although Dou Dou wanted to stay, he was still forcibly dragged away by his friends, looking back three times.
The crowd scattered like birds and beasts, and soon the place became quiet, leaving only Xin Meng, You Yi, and Qi Xiaokui.
Xin Meng let out a sigh of relief. Although this explanation might not have been detailed enough, and various problems might still arise in the future, he would gradually resolve them and would no longer allow situations like Li Chu’s, where someone was prematurely admitted due to their superior skills.
Those who had not experienced setbacks were immature in mind and were always prone to causing trouble.
Then, Xin Meng turned to Qi Xiaokui, who had been silent.
“Do you have something to say to me?”
He knew Qi Xiaokui must have questions for him.
Qi Xiaokui stood up from the ground, biting her lip, looking at Xin Meng with a complex expression, and after a long time said, “I… I find it hard to accept. Since you are the system, did you deceive me from the very beginning?”
Pretending to be a newly entered player, pretending to be ignorant, pretending to risk his life to save her, pretending… to be friends with her?
But Qi Xiaokui had even more questions, “You deceived me, fine, but why did you also pretend not to know You Yi? What is that about, letting him pursue you again, to enjoy the process of being pursued once more?”
Hearing Xin Meng’s earlier anxious explanations, she now saw a slightly awkward expression on his face as he glanced at You Yi beside him.
Only to find You Yi wearing a half-smile, his eyes shining with: enjoy the show.
“Tsk,” Xin Meng rolled his eyes and explained to Qi Xiaokui, “It wasn’t intentional to deceive you, nor was it to let him… cough.”
Qi Xiaokui listened with wide eyes.
“This is my second task aside from overall game control, which is to test the newly generated game and adjust its difficulty. After all, if the difficulty is too high or too low, it will lose the meaning of selection.”
Xin Meng said awkwardly, “When the computer first started running, I was brought in to oversee the game. You could say I was indispensable. But there are pros and cons; the creators have always worried that if I live too long, my emotions and thoughts might undergo unpredictable changes, causing losses to the game. Initially, they wanted to destroy me after a while, but that would incur too much loss, and finding a new AI would be too costly, so they simply set me a secondary directive, which is to format my memory bank every fifty years and input it into the newly generated game, reincarnating with the players. So when I met you, I truly knew nothing, not even who I was, until I regained my memory in this current game.”
Upon hearing this, Qi Xiaokui finally calmed down, sighing, “You have it tough too.”
Xin Meng remained noncommittal.
Qi Xiaokui forgave Xin Meng, but she overlooked one issue: he had lost his memory, but You Yi had not. Why hadn’t he told him the truth?
If she had really thought of this and asked Xin Meng, she would have seen an even more awkward expression from him.
Xin Meng felt a bit guilty now.
In fact, You Yi didn’t need to follow him. He had given You Yi permissions in the game that were second only to his own, allowing him to do whatever he wanted. But before entering the game, he had not only acted spoiled and insisted that You Yi promise to keep his memory loss a secret, but also required him to follow him and accompany him in the game, under the pretense of romance…
To put it bluntly, Qi Xiaokui had hit the nail on the head—he just wanted the other party to pursue him once.
After all, he had always been the one chasing after You Yi before; Xin Meng had never enjoyed the process of being pursued.
As a result, he lost his memory and entered the game, but now he was anxious and unhappy about his concealment.
What on earth was he doing!
No wonder during the Demon King game, You Yi wanted him to lay his heart bare; it was probably a… punishment?
Recalling that incident, he immediately turned to You Yi, about to question him, but heard You Yi say, “What should we do with these two knives?”
“…” Knowing he was changing the subject, Xin Meng felt a bit guilty himself and couldn’t really dig deeper, so he could only deflate and say, “I don’t know, you keep them. If one day you don’t want to see me, just kill me.”
You Yi glanced at him indifferently, and Xin Meng jolted, “Huh? What did I just say? Why can’t I remember?”
Watching him go from sharp to playing dumb in an instant, Qi Xiaokui couldn’t help but laugh, realizing the saying “what goes around comes around” was truly apt.
You Yi placed the knife on the ground, propping one side up with a stone, then stomped down hard with his heel. With a “crack,” the knife broke!
However, things weren’t that simple; the knife broke, but the blue electric light remained.
Xin Meng leaned over to take a look, reaching out to gently touch it, but halfway there, You Yi grabbed his hand, preventing him from getting closer.
“At this point, we can only find a way to move this knife out of the game and transport it to the real world, where it will turn into ordinary scrap metal and no longer pose a threat to the game,” Xin Meng pondered.
It sounded easy, but it was a massive undertaking.
Xin Meng couldn’t touch the knife, nor could he move it directly, so You Yi had to carry this weapon through thousands of game worlds, reaching the game closest to the boundary, where Xin Meng would open the boundary, and You Yi would throw the knife out.
The time required would inevitably be considerable, but it didn’t matter; what they lacked the least was time. They had plenty of time to traverse together, talking about love while getting things done.
After hearing their plan, Qi Xiaokui nodded, expressing her reassurance. Now everything was on the right track; each to their own, Qi Xiaokui was still a GM, You Yi was somewhat one too, and Xin Meng had regained his identity as the system, meaning they could meet again without the game’s restrictions and could contact each other anytime.
Finally, Qi Xiaokui hugged Xin Meng, reminding him to visit her often, before Xin Meng transported her back to the main god space.
“Let’s set off,” Xin Meng extended his hand to You Yi, smiling, with dimples showing at the corners of his mouth.
You Yi looked at him for a moment and then took his hand.
