A Survival Game Where You Have to Fall in Love with a Madman - Chapter 17

Internal Monologue

For reasons unknown, the System had dragged him back into its framework. However, because his data stream had fractured cleanly down the middle during the process, he was left in limbo an anomaly trapped directly between a regular player and an NPC entity.

Sigh. Forced to patch my own damn game again…

“Want a bite?”

A heavily charred fried egg was waved right in front of his lips. He Yanqing, fork in hand, was looking at him with immense anticipation.

You Yan shot him a detached, sidelong glance from his beautiful eyes.

“Fine, if you won’t eat it, I will.” He Yanqing retracting his hand deflatedly and bit down. “Fuck! That’s incredibly bitter!” He whipped around instantly, aggressively spitting it out into the trash can.

What an idiot. You Yan shook his head silently in his mind. Every single game parameter was currently running along its designated, orderly trajectory with the absolute, volatile exception of the unstable variable standing right in front of him.

You Yan slowly opened his phoenix eyes, let his gaze rest briefly on the charcoal-like monstrosity inside the pan, and then slowly closed them again.

“Is this the System’s new method for murdering its players?” His voice carried a distinct, raspy trace of sleepiness.

He Yanqing lifted his head from the trash can and grinned, the beauty mark at the corner of his right eye shifting slightly upward with his expression. “Hey, I followed the recipe exactly.” He set the skillet down, the black substance making a highly suspicious, sticky sound against the metal.

You Yan finally straightened up, running a hand through his messy hair. “Main God above. I would rather clear ten high-level instances back-to-back.”

He cast a fleeting glance toward the invisible surveillance node on the wall a microscopic pinpoint of light that only he could perceive, indicating that the System was actively logging their every move.

“Let’s go out to eat then.” He Yanqing had already changed into clean clothes, his towering 191 cm frame looking exceptionally obtrusive within the confines of the small apartment. He casually swiped his points card off the coffee table. “The virtual city built by this crappy game is practically identical to the real world anyway.”

You Yan got out of bed sluggishly, his 178.5 cm stature requiring him to tilt his head slightly to meet He Yanqing’s gaze.

“You just want an excuse to spend points,” he noted flatly, though his feet were already carrying him toward the bathroom.

The Hub City

Twenty minutes later, the two stepped out of You Yan’s apartment complex.

The simulated sunlight of the virtual city felt warm without being blinding. A few players walked sporadically along the streets, each one carrying a heavily guarded, exhausted countenance. In the distance, the Tower of the Main God loomed majestically over the skyline, the rhythmic pulsing of the light at its apex serving as a constant, mechanical reminder that this was still a game universe.

“Sometimes, it’s genuinely easy to forget that this place is just a massive hub instance.” He Yanqing stretched his arms, his straight, military-esque posture casting a long, sharp silhouette under the artificial sun.

You Yan walked alongside him, hands tucked casually into his pockets, the stud in his left earlobe swaying slightly with his steady stride. “The System’s simulation parameters are flawless.”

After all, he added silently in his mind, I designed it.

They selected a corner restaurant whose interior decoration deviated in no way from the establishments of the real world. When ordering, He Yanqing intentionally selected the most expensive premium set menu on the interface, while You Yan simply opted for a cup of black coffee.

“Do you just have points to burn?” You Yan watched He Yanqing mindlessly swipe his card to clear a 500-point tab.

He Yanqing casually twirled the points card between his fingers. “Over five thousand. Leftover rewards accumulated from clearing the previous high-level instances.” He narrowed his eyes. “What about you?”

“Five hundred and six,” You Yan replied, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Just enough to get by.”

He Yanqing suddenly burst into a soft laugh. “Do you know what I like most about you?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “This absolute indifference you display toward everything. Having a disposition like that in a death game is a hilariously expensive luxury.”

You Yan lifted his eyes to look at him, his phoenix eyes completely devoid of any legible emotion. “You’re plenty hilarious yourself. You possess the capability to clear instances with absolute ease, yet you consistently insist on courting death just to chase a cheap thrill.”

Their conversation was cut short by the waiter arriving with their food. “Please enjoy your meal.”

As He Yanqing sliced into his steak, he randomly blurted out, “My birthday is May 21st.”

The hand You Yan was using to stir his coffee paused for a fraction of a second. “Oh.”

“Aren’t you going to ask why I suddenly brought that up?”

“If you want to talk about it, you will.”

He Yanqing’s sudden laughter caused several players at nearby tables to cast wary, sideways glances toward them. “That personality of yours is seriously…” He shook his head. “So, when is your birthday?”

“May 25th,” You Yan said, setting his coffee cup down. “Four days after yours.”

“521… 525…” He Yanqing repeated the two dates thoughtfully, a playful, highly amused smile carving across his lips. “Fascinating.”

You Yan offered no counter-reply, choosing instead to gaze out through the glass window at the passing street view.

The System had embedded countless hidden restrictions and traps within the architecture of this virtual city, and he was acutely aware that He Yanqing’s behavioral patterns had already tripped several of them—excessive expenditure of points, attempting to establish unauthorized personal connections, and projecting sentimental attachment toward reality.

Every single infraction would be systematically recorded, serving as data points for the System to evaluate a player’s threat index.

And he, as an intrinsic component of the System, should have flagged this high-risk player immediately. Instead, he chose silence.

The Central Plaza

After lunch, He Yanqing suggested heading to the central commercial plaza to stock up on supplies.

Located at the dead center of the virtual city, the plaza was a massive five-story glass structure packed with a dizzying array of merchandise, ranging from everyday necessities to lethal weaponry provided a player possessed the requisite points.

“How may I assist you, gentlemen?” A uniformed NPC sales clerk approached them with a rehearsed, seamless smile.

He Yanqing casually grabbed a sleek black trench coat from a display rack. “How many points for this?”

“That will be 300 points, sir,” the clerk replied politely. “This is a premium tactical defense garment, capable of nullifying a single fatal strike.”

“Sold.” He Yanqing swiped his card without a moment’s hesitation, then turned to look at You Yan. “Aren’t you going to pick something out?”

You Yan shook his head. “Unnecessary.”

“Then consider this a gift from me.” He Yanqing suddenly tossed the trench coat straight into his arms. “Take it as an early birthday present.”

Catching the garment, You Yan’s brows knit tightly together. “I already told you I don’t need it.”

“Just indulge my urge to spend.” He Yanqing had already drifted over to the adjacent counter, systematically picking out more items.

Over the course of the next half hour, He Yanqing swept through the residential supply sector like a textbook nouveau riche:

• Premium Bedding Set (200 points)
• Portable Advanced Medical Kit (150 points)
• Multi-functional Tactical Watch (250 points)…
• He even went as far as purchasing a complete set of everyday clothing tailored precisely to You Yan’s measurements (100 points).

“Have you completely lost your mind?” You Yan finally stepped in, interrogating him in a harsh whisper. “Most of this garbage is utterly useless inside an active instance.”

He Yanqing casually cleared the tab for the final batch of items, bringing his total expenditure to well over 2,000 points. “Who said anything about using them inside an instance?” He flashed a wild, unbridled smile. “I simply want to live a bit of a real life inside this thoroughly fake world.”

Their erratic spending spree inevitably drew a crowd of onlookers, prompting the surrounding players to whisper among themselves.

• “Who the hell is that guy? How does he have that many points to throw around?”
• “I heard only four people made it out alive from that last high-level instance…”
• “They’re actively wasting points! What are they going to do when the next instance triggers?”

You Yan noticed that several individuals in the crowd were surreptitiously committing their facial features to memory. In this dog-eat-dog survival game, exposing immense wealth was synonymous with begging for trouble.

“Satisfied?” You Yan asked coldly as they finally exited the plaza.

He Yanqing was heavily loaded down with shopping bags, a deeply fulfilled smile plastered across his face. “Incredibly so.” He intentionally leaned in close, his voice brushing against You Yan’s ear. “Just look at the expressions on their faces. It’s highly entertaining.”

You Yan pushed him away roughly. “Childish.”

On the trek back to the apartment complex, He Yanqing suddenly spoke up. “521, 525… do you know what those numbers sound like?”

You Yan feigned deafness, but He Yanqing continued entirely on his own accord. “‘I love myself’ and ‘I love you’—there’s only a single character’s difference between the two.”

“A tedious, meaningless word game,” You Yan said, accelerating his pace.

He Yanqing let out a bright laugh, the sound echoing hollowly down the empty street avenue. “You know, You Yan… sometimes I get the distinct impression that you are far more mysterious than this entire game platform combined.”

You Yan’s heart skipped a definitive beat, but his outward composure remained completely ironclad. “Think whatever pleases you.”

Back inside the apartment, the two began sorting through the mountain of purchased goods.

As You Yan hung the black trench coat into his wardrobe, his fingers brushed against a nearly imperceptible watermark embedded within the inner lining it wasn’t a standard retail brand label, but rather a tiny, highly intricate mystical rune.

He Yanqing is definitively not a standard player. What exactly is his secondary identity?