Title: Joyful Jester
Current Development Level: 0 (*)
Introduction: Some say we are the righteous, others claim we are the villains. Ordinary jesters bring joy to the audience, but we only need to amuse ourselves and flip the stage.
Currently Available Basic Abilities:
“A good actor must learn to immerse themselves, just as those who love to fight must do the same.”
Ability Description: Mimic someone you have seen before. The more you know about them, the higher the degree of imitation. The base duration of the ability is half an hour, but this shortens if the target is powerful.
P.S. Scope of imitation: Appearance, thought patterns, skills.
“When an actor forgets their lines, they say ‘1, 2, 3.’ When a jester has nothing to say, they say ‘3, 2, 1.'”
Ability Description: Every “dart” you throw can become an explosive—it might detonate as dynamite, a water balloon, or even chewed bubblegum… The explosion’s nature is random. Of course, you can also turn any inanimate object into an explosive through sufficient contact.
P.S. Even with zero-distance contact, humans will not become explosives.
“As a jester, one must not only excel on stage but also escape swiftly when cornered by the audience.”
Ability Description: Your physical abilities are enhanced, particularly speed and flexibility. For every person pursuing you, the skill’s effectiveness increases by 10%, capping at 100%.
P.S. Special speed bonuses apply to certain roles, such as reporters.
“Some say controlling dreams is Freddy’s specialty. Let’s quietly steal it…”
Ability Description: You can steal the dream of a sleeping person and blend into it as a participant. If you are already in the dream, you will possess a body within it.
P.S. Don’t steal springtime dreams.
“This description is way too cheeky…” Lin Huai’s eyelid twitched. “Becoming part of a dream… A 3p dream is fine, as long as I’m not the one at the bottom. A 2p dream… But how am I supposed to know if the person isn’t having a springtime dream?”
…Of course, he had no way of knowing that in the next Instance, this ability would backfire on him spectacularly.
But that’s a story for later. For now, the four skills of “Joyful Jester” lived up to their name—playful and delightful…
What caught his attention, however, was the “*” symbol.
According to the notes marked by “*,” these four skills were the basic abilities of “Joyful Jester.” As the title’s development level increased, all four skills would evolve (Lin Huai thought it’d be great if a springtime dream detection feature could be added). However, the System did not specify how to increase the title’s development level.
“I’ll ask Chu Tianshu about it later. He seems like someone with a high title development level,” he mused.
He closed the title information screen and sat alone on the sofa, hugging his knees as he stared at the blank white ceiling.
Only when he was alone did he finally have time to properly reflect on his own affairs.
In the past, he had always felt like a Fierce Ghost trying to blend into human society. In his fragmented memories, there was only the blood-soaked Wen County and the dried-up well where he had slumbered for centuries before awakening in the modern era. His body had been excavated by a history professor, while his Ghost had followed silently. After haunting the professor for a month, he found a perfectly suitable body to possess. Later, because of this body, he received a black invitation and was dragged into this Game.
Yet now, he felt all of this… was far too coincidental.
Why was his body unearthed precisely this year? The crow entered the “Gate” exactly one year ago. Calculating carefully, it was the very same day he had awakened in that well in Wen County.
Regarding possession, he should have had many choices. But why was it this particular body—one that had died by jumping off a building and was bound to the Game—that perfectly matched his aesthetic, compelling him to merge with it effortlessly? And the name “Lin Huai”… “Huai,” with its eerie, ghostly connotations, was not a character typically used in personal names. Why was it specifically Lin Huai?
Moreover, there were countless children with both parents alive. Why was it that this body’s parents had divorced during his childhood and subsequently neglected him entirely? Since he had taken over this body, the so-called parents existed only as two names in WeChat—one labeled “Dad,” the other “Mom.” Aside from sending living expenses on the first of every month without any further communication, even these crude labels made one question whether they were merely symbolic… or whether these two people…
Actually existed at all?
Delving deeper, had “Lin Huai” ever truly existed at S University before? Had there really always been four people in Lu Jin’s dorm? He still remembered—that person’s suicide had occurred the day before registration. On the first day of the semester, when he had walked into the dorm and initiated a conversation with Lu Jin, the startled expression on his face…
Was that shock due to his usually solitary roommate suddenly being overly friendly…
Or because.
This person shouldn’t have been in his dorm room at all?
Then, the moment “Lin Huai” spoke to him…
His memories underwent some kind of tampering, and thus the “Lin Huai” who kept to himself, rarely stayed in the dorm, and even needed Lu Jin to help make his bed appeared out of nowhere.
Or perhaps, no matter which dorm he entered, whether the occupant was Lu Jin or Zhang Jin…
As long as there was an empty bed, “Lin Huai” would seamlessly and silently integrate into their lives.
Just like his classmates in the same department, who had always perceived “Lin Huai” as quiet and solitary—until his arrival, after which he became lively and outgoing.
And after entering the Game, the subtle anomalies that gradually manifested in him only deepened his confusion.
The puppet addressed him as “Father.” The memory of betting with colorful bubbles in a moment of inspiration, the violent, splitting sensation that nearly tore his mind apart afterward, that howl and… the Examiner.
Everyone’s Examiner should have been Freddy. But his Examiner was a shadow.
A shadow… that blocked the entire glass pane, silently watching him in the darkness.
That shadow told him to remember the bet and wanted to make him a part of itself.
At the end of his memory, what dispelled the shadow was his blood. Yet when he cut his palm open in the System space, he didn’t see the dense, flowing golden numbers in his blood like he had when enveloped by darkness.
And another thing that unavoidably drew his attention—
The fat guy said the System was an old hag!
…No matter how he listened, his System voice was always a cold, indifferent male tone, absolutely not something that could be called an old hag!
Yet if not for this coincidence, he would never have known this. After all, who in an infinite flow Game would discuss with others whether their System prompts were in a female or male voice?
If even the System voice giving commands in the Game couldn’t be trusted, then walking into death was perfectly normal. Because…
It was entirely possible that it was giving death missions to him alone.
—Although, so far, the System hadn’t shown any signs of harming Lin Huai. On the contrary, in some small details, Lin Huai actually felt the System seemed somewhat familiar and special toward him.
But he couldn’t help making the worst assumptions.
And then there was that Gate he’d glimpsed when first entering the System space, covered in chains with a massive lock. This time, when he returned to the System space, the thickest chain had already broken.
He couldn’t help comparing and speculating, suspecting that the breaking of this chain was inextricably linked to his awakening memories!
Moreover, he had a premonition… when his memories fully awakened, the chains on this Gate would completely break, and he absolutely didn’t want to see what was behind the “Gate” now.
All signs indicated that he truly was that crow who had entered the “Gate,” or rather, he had once been that “crow.” Otherwise, he couldn’t explain his own existence and the various anomalies surrounding him.
Yet the “crow” was human, while “Lin Huai” was a Fierce Ghost… but what about himself?
What exactly was he?
“…To think even a Fierce Ghost could be frightened by himself.” Lin Huai sat on the sofa, smiling bitterly as he held his forehead. “But if that’s the case, it’s a bit embarrassing to still call myself a Fierce Ghost…”
The question he’d always denied and subtly avoided thinking about had finally been placed squarely before him.
If his identity was fabricated, his memories false, everything constructed…
Then what exactly was he now?
What three things make a human? Memories, body, and relationships?
A body of unknown origin, memories full of holes, and now even the composition of his relationships fell under his suspicion.
A mysterious System of unknown allegiance, the relentlessly advancing “Gates,” the “shadowy figure” in the surveillance room, the “bubble” and “male voice” that made a wager with him, and “Freddy” who seemed to approach him with goodwill…
Were all his memories fabricated? But what about Wen County… Could there still be secrets hidden there?
“What am I, really…”
Just before being teleported out of the System’s space, Lin Huai stared at his own body and murmured.
He suddenly felt an urgent need for sugar—as if a spike in blood sugar could bring him warmth.
When he opened his eyes again, Lin Huai was back in the restroom.
He stood there silently for a long time.
“Hey, Lin Huai, are you coming out or not?” Lu Jin banged on the door outside. “How long have you been in there? I can’t hold it anymore!”
Just as Lu Jin was about to pry the door open, Lin Huai finally stepped out. His face was deathly pale, his expression icy as he brushed past Lu Jin. Despite the overwhelming urge to relieve himself, Lu Jin couldn’t help but freeze when he caught a glimpse of Lin Huai’s profile.
“He looks terrible…” he thought.
Lin Huai walked out of the dormitory. He passed through the familiar hallway, descended the stairs, and crossed the field where Shao Wei was playing soccer.
Under the shade of a tree stood Lin Dangdang and her roommate, cheering. Lin Huai lingered by the field, watching silently for a long time.
Then he went to the library, where Tan Xiruo was buried in her studies.
Qin Jiang was buying milk tea at Fenghua Garden, Chen Shu was reposting the latest haunted house competition on his social media, and Cheng Yu’an was chatting with Zhou Ming in the group chat… Everyone had their own lives, their own places to belong.
And there he sat alone on the library steps, watching his shadow stretch longer and longer in the sunset, feeling inexplicably adrift and lonely.
Until a shadow fell over his head.
He looked up and saw an umbrella.
And beneath it—a familiar face.
For some reason, at that moment, he suddenly felt like crying.
