A Survival Game Where You Have to Fall in Love with a Madman - Chapter 3

The “Circle” functions similarly to a social media network, allowing users to publish any instance video footage they find intriguing. The network is broken down into three specific tiers: the Faceless Circle, the Face-Bearing Circle, and the Thick-Skinned Circle.

• The Faceless Circle: Houses players whose overall capability assessment falls below 25.

【The system awards these players a taunt: “Hey, hey, hey, where did all your faces go?”】

• The Face-Bearing Circle: Houses players with a capability assessment falling comfortably between 26 and 65.

【The system awards these players an encouragement: “Keep maintaining your form, you mischievous little players.”】

• The Thick-Skinned Circle: Needs very little formal introduction; it is reserved exclusively for the absolute elite whose capability assessment metrics soar above 66.

【The system awards these players a gesture of worship: “Grandmasters, Grandmasters, please carry this little brother!”】

Naturally, out of the tens of millions of active participants currently trapped within the Main God instances:

【The system simply extracts whoever it deems adorable!】

There are barely ten individuals across the entire globe whose capability assessments surpass a rating of 90.

【System Prompt: The descent timeframe of the Main God Instances is: $infty$】

【Clear Condition: Execute the Main God.】

【Clear Probability: 0.000000000001%】

【The Main God instances have descended across all corners of the globe. The fortunate players selected through the draft will exist within a separate dimensional space mirrored after their original world. Everything in this domain is manufactured by the Main God. For the progressive advancement of human science, the strong shall remain, and the weak shall be thoroughly culled.】

【We wish our players a wonderful extra hour of survival!】

Inside the Survival Game Lobby.

“I wonder if these new rookies have anything worth watching. Hopefully, I’ll run into a few during my next match to harvest some easy points,” a bald man mumbled, biting into an apple before tossing the core away, tracing a blood-red arc through the air.

Leaning lazily against the transparent boundary wall of the void, a red-haired woman sneered. “I bet those pieces of trash won’t last five minutes before crying and screaming for their mothers.” Her fingers scrolled mindlessly across the digital interface of the Faceless Circle, magnifying the footage of terrified rookies fleeing for their lives tenfold across the main monitor.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting alarm blared violently throughout the entire hub lobby. A young girl clad in a traditional kimono froze slightly mid-motion while polishing her katana. Simultaneously, everyone’s wristwatches vibrated in unison as a crimson prompt box materialized in mid-air.

【Anomalous fluctuations detected.】

【Rank-A Instance “St. Maria’s Charity Hospital” has been initiated.】

【Mandatory live broadcast stream override loaded.】

“Are you kidding me?!” A youth wearing a pulled-up hoodie leaped to his feet from a dark corner, completely crushing the soda can in his grip out of shape. “Didn’t that asylum just butcher five rookies last week?!”

Someone silently pulled up the live stream feed. Within the mist-shrouded hospital backdrop, the status profile of a young man whose capability assessment read an absolute 0 was displayed clearly in front of everyone’s eyes.

The young man was thoroughly and methodically wiping down a patient case file resting on a wooden desk. A blood-red moon rose steadily beyond the windowpane behind him, causing the window frames to emit a terrifying, rhythmic creak. The bullet-screen comment overlay exploded instantly:

• [User ID: NPC?]: Is this some hidden alt-account of a Grandmaster I’ve never heard of?
• [User ID: Look at the Panel!]: He’s a certified, genuine rookie!
• [User ID: Did the system bug out?]: How on earth did a Rank-A instance match someone from the “Faceless Circle”?

“Anyone want to place a bet?” The red-haired woman ran the flat of her tongue along her long blade. “I bet he won’t survive past—”

• [User ID: HwH_Ink]: Look quickly, everyone! God He is inside this instance too!

The crowd immediately switched camera angles on the live broadcast, rapidly locating the player profile carrying the ID: GB.

• [User ID: Little_Feather]: Ahhhhhhh! Daddy! God He is so incredibly handsome!
• [User ID: Arriving_Shortly]: God He is as completely unhinged as always. That single slash he just pulled off went straight through my heart.
• [User ID: Buddha_Cyan_Wine]: The system’s matchmaking algorithms are getting more and more unconventional.

“How could God He possibly be matched into the exact same instance as a rookie with a capability assessment of absolute zero?” The bald man stood up, rolling his shoulders and flexing his limbs as his bones emitted a sequence of sharp, popping noises.

On screen, the youth suddenly tilted his head. A deathly pale, spectral hand grazed past his earlobe, gouging five smoking, charred lacerations directly into the room’s plaster wall.

You Yan’s hand holding the case file didn’t lose its rhythm for a fraction of a second. At some point, an ornate, engraved revolver had appeared in his right hand an item he had just discovered inside the desk drawer containing a single round.

“A Colt 1873?” The katana-wielding girl finally raised her head, her eyes narrowing. “An antique of that caliber…”

The thunderous report of a gunshot and a agonizing shriek erupted simultaneously. The exact instant the bullet pierced through the phantom’s chest, the blue light emanating from You Yan’s right wrist surged exponentially.

The pupils of every single player watching the broadcast contracted in sheer disbelief the capability assessment readout flared from a 0 to a 1, before generating an uncountable string of zeros behind the digit, looking exactly like an oscilloscope suffering from a severe electrical short circuit.

The live stream feed began to shake and shudder violently.

【System data corruption encountered…】

The capability evaluation on You Yan’s wrist panel stabilized back to an absolute 0, making it look as though everything the audience had just witnessed was nothing more than a collective ocular illusion.

The live chat erupted into a frenzy of speculation:

• [User ID: Mourning_Pain]: My eyes weren’t playing tricks on me just now, right? How many zeros were tacked onto the end of that rookie’s level 1 evaluation?
• [User ID: Damn_I’m_A_Psycho]: I counted! I counted! Ten, twenty… No, no, no, way more than that!
• [User ID: Want_to_Eat_Cheese-Mixed_Rice]: Stop blind-guessing. The system definitely just encountered a severe bug!

【System Notice: 500 additional players have expended points to enter He Yanqing’s live broadcast room.】

“What in the living hell!” A man with a cybernetic arm stumbled backward two paces, colliding heavily into the bald man. “He’s absorbing the phantom! That firearm is a soul-devouring class weapon.”

The pool of fresh blood gathering beneath You Yan’s feet rippled with an uncanny, unnatural wave as countless pale, translucent arms materialized to drag him down into the abyss.

Right as the entire audience held their breath in collective anticipation, a sudden beam of cyan light tore straight through the darkness. The red-haired woman caught a fleeting glimpse of a faint, barely perceptible smile resting on You Yan’s lips, alongside a crimson rune flashing across the shattered window fragments before vanishing out of sight.

【WARNING】

【Unconventional energy signature detected.】

【Broadcast signal terminated by force.】

The hub lounge plunged into a dead, absolute silence. The red-haired woman stared blankly down at her wrist panel, which was still vibrating faintly, as cold sweat traced a slow line down her spine.

That rookie named NPC…. just now, he was absolutely looking straight at us through the screen.

The moment You Yan stepped out of the office room, a shrill, agonized scream echoed from the distance, followed shortly by an automated announcement broadcasting throughout the entire facility:

【Game update: 3 survivors remaining.】

【Time remaining: 6 hours.】

From the far end of the long corridor, a distinct, inhuman, wet crawling sound echoed out, steadily advancing toward his location…

You Yan retreated back into the storage room, bending down to retrieve the scalpel that had fallen onto the floor earlier.

The distant noise grew louder by the second, accompanied by a bone-chilling, rhythmic clack-clack that sounded exactly like joints grinding against one another.

“Stay calm,” he muttered softly to himself. “This is merely a game… just a game…”

The heavy storage room door was slammed open with a violent crash. You Yan watched as a completely contorted humanoid organism dragged its way inside it might have belonged to a human once, but its limbs were entirely inverted, its neck twisted a full 180 degrees backwards, and its jaw split wide open all the way to its earlobes, exposing rows of stark white teeth.

The entity wore a faded pastel-pink nurse’s uniform, completed by a pink cap resting askew atop its skull, which was actively oozing brain matter.

You Yan gripped his scalpel tightly, slowly backing himself into a corner until his spine pressed against the wall, slipping down into a half-seated posture.

The nurse monster emitted a ravenous, hollow whimper, crawling aggressively toward him.

“Forget it. This is far more dignified than being torn apart by a monster,” he observed clinically. He pressed the sharp edge of the scalpel firmly against his main artery, silently calculating the tempo of the monster’s approach as the blade formed a stark, bloodless indentation against his pale skin.

The exact millisecond he prepared to apply lethal pressure, a catastrophic detonation shattered the atmosphere as a flash of cold steel cleaved through the iron reinforcement of the door.

A flash of moonlight-blue short hair darted across his field of vision. The newcomer brought a heavy combat boot down onto You Yan’s wrist, applying a grinding pressure that locked his weapon-bearing hand dead in place.

“Main God Instance: Suicide is strictly prohibited,” the man stated, looking down at him from a superior height. A distinct beauty mark resting just beneath the outer corner of his eye gleamed with an exotic, dangerous allure within the shadows. “This happens to be my prey.”

You Yan raised his head, taking in the sight of the raw, quivering biological tissue still clinging to the edge of the man’s massive cleaver. He replied with an entirely expressionless face: “Be my guest.”

The man suddenly bent low, his nose coming so close their tips practically brushed against one another. “Mr. NPC, you are significantly more entertaining than those pathetic players.”

A finger heavily scented with the metallic tang of rust pried its way past You Yan’s teeth line. “My name is He Yanqing. Commit that name to memory after all, I intend to act as your Grim Reaper.”

From the exterior of the refrigeration units, a chorus of inhuman shrieks and bellows echoed inward. Yet, He Yanqing simply let out a brilliant, radiant laugh. “Want to guess how many of them I can slaughter? Loser strips an article of clothing?”

You Yan casually swatted his hand away. “I highly recommend you conserve your stamina to deal with the incoming wave…”

Before the final syllable could fully leave his lips, the entire reinforcement wall was violently torn asunder. Under the pale moonlight, dozens of pairs of glowing, crimson eyes materialized out of the dark void.

He Yanqing licked his canine teeth, grabbing You Yan by the shoulder and dragging him firmly behind his back. “You should have specified earlier, my dear theoretician.”

The surgical scalpel spun in a cold, shimmering wheel through You Yan’s fingers. “Allow me to correct your terminology. It’s ‘the theoretician who is going to grant you an extra ten minutes of survival.'”