God's Imitator

Unlike the three new players, Qin Cheng, Huang Shengjie, and Lu Qi, Shen Bowen was a veteran player who had gone through the entire previous stage, and so she had a very clear understanding of the meaning behind many of the rules.

The total amount a community had contributed to its fund could be viewed as the community’s construction achievements, and was essentially tied to the community’s overall strength.

This was because the more a community contributed, the more it indicated, on one hand, that its players were strong enough to steadily earn visa time from games, and on the other hand, that the community had a higher degree of cohesion. Whether the players contributed voluntarily or under compulsion, donating to the fund demonstrated that everyone could work toward a common goal.

Furthermore, special items could further bolster the entire community’s strength.

Based on Shen Bowen’s description, the community she had previously been in was likely a ”mid-tier community,” not weak enough to be negligible, since at the very least, after learning of the existence of items like the ”Death Exemption Ticket,” they had been able to pool together the basic visa time needed to unlock it.

But it was not particularly strong either, with average organization, which was why it had been dissolved and restructured at the end of the First Stage.

Community 2 as it stood now should qualify as a ”core community.”

It had retained its original 9 members, the two core players Lu Bingjun and Ye Lin had contributed a considerable amount of visa time, and the community fund had been unlocked to the 600,000-minute tier.

Overall, it fell short of the original Community 17, but that was perfectly normal, since Community 17 had been an anomaly.

In hindsight, Community 17’s overall strength during the First Stage had been in a league of its own, and the damage caused by internal conflict had exceeded any external threat.So falling short of Community 17 was hardly surprising.

That said, Lin Sizhi had already begun to notice that Community 2’s current dynamics were not without their questionable aspects, and it was not a particularly stable structure.

From its community rules, the fund amounts, and the setup of its game cores, certain hints could be gleaned, as though something was missing in every area.

A new player like Huang Shengjie might not sense it deeply, but to Lin Sizhi, it was practically laid out in plain sight.

For the time being, however, he had no intention of doing anything about it. In this community, his primary role was still that of an ”observer.”

...

After the evening’s dinner gathering concluded, everyone returned to their respective rooms.

Compared to the original Community 17, the dinner in Community 2 had taken on more of the feel of a corporate team-building event.

Lu Bingjun, as the community leader, had delivered lengthier opening remarks and pleasantries, while players like Yao Yuan, Wen Wan, Zheng Chunhua, and Zhou Wanlin had stood up in a specific order to offer toasts one by one.

While there was no formal requirement to drink, many players, swept up in the atmosphere, inevitably ended up having a few extra glasses.

Lin Sizhi politely indicated that he did not drink, and no one made much of it.

The other new member who also abstained was the medical student, Qin Cheng.

The remaining players all had something to drink to varying degrees, including the other new player, Lu Qi, who had clearly felt too awkward to refuse and ended up drinking two small glasses of sweet fruit wine, her cheeks flushing red before long.

The one who drank the most was Huang Shengjie. He seemed very satisfied with the food and drinks at the gathering, had a hearty appetite, and fit in quite well.

After eating and drinking their fill, everyone chatted for a while longer before parting ways for the night.

The players scattered across the lobby and outdoor areas, while some headed straight back to their rooms to rest.

...

Lin Sizhi returned to his room, opened his laptop, and found a new message waiting for him.

[Hello, Lin Sizhi.]

[Welcome to the Gallery of the Second Stage.]

[The Gallery is now extending a new game design invitation to all God’s Imitators. The theme for this invitation is ”Pain.”]

[The game type is limited to ”distribution-type,” ”elimination-type,” and ”selection-type.”]

[This game invitation will be awarded through a ”bidding” process among all God’s Imitators currently in the New World’s Second Stage. Subject to ”passing review,” the proposal that ”offers the most visa time” will be selected.]

[The deadline is 8:00 PM three days from now. You have 72 hours to complete the game design.]

[All players will be required to participate.]

Lin Sizhi sat in thought, realizing that this game invitation clearly contained certain specific pieces of hidden information.

After considering several possible interpretations, he opened his drawer and took out the game design document for this round.

The item list restrictions were quite lenient, essentially amounting to no restrictions at all.

After all, since this game invitation was being ”awarded through bidding,” there were bound to be God’s Imitators among the pool with hundreds of thousands of minutes of visa time, and after putting up such a significant amount, the Gallery’s rules would naturally have been relaxed in kind.

However, one piece of information in the item list was worth noting.

[6. Painkillers of varying compositions and effects: up to 5 types.]

Lin Sizhi thought for a moment, set the design document aside, and decided to give it more careful thought before starting on the design tomorrow.

After all, there were still 72 hours, and time was ample.

...

In the middle of the night.

In Room 14, Huang Shengjie jolted awake from his sleep.

He had drunk quite a bit at the evening’s gathering, but being a young man with a good tolerance for alcohol and solid physical health, he had settled into a sound sleep shortly after returning to his room.

Yet in the midst of his drowsy slumber, Huang Shengjie suddenly felt a surge of excruciating pain.

The agony initially centered in his head, like a drill bit violently boring into his skull from the back of his head and churning his brain matter in every direction.

But it spread rapidly. His spine, his heart, his back, and even every bone in his body felt as though they had been shattered by a heavy hammer and ground to powder. Every single pore seemed to be pierced by thick steel needles.

Huang Shengjie let out an uncontrollable scream, practically shooting upright out of his bed before crashing to the floor and rolling in agony.

His forehead struck the corner of the nightstand, but in the midst of such overwhelming pain, he had no awareness of it at all.

Huang Shengjie could not make sense of what was happening to him. Or rather, the violent pain had completely seized his mind, leaving him utterly incapable of thinking about anything. All he could do was rely on sheer instinct to endure the extreme agony.

He had no sense of how long the pain lasted. By the time his awareness returned, his pajamas were completely soaked through, as if he had just been pulled out of a pool of water.

The room around him was in complete disarray.

Huang Shengjie slumped at the side of his bed, gasping for breath in heavy gulps. A long while passed before he finally managed to collect himself.

Then, all at once, a wave of nausea surged through his stomach. He stumbled and crawled toward the bathroom, threw his arms around the toilet, and began to retch.

After another long stretch of time, Huang Shengjie pressed the flush button, made his way to the sink, splashed cold water on his face, and looked at his own reflection in the mirror.

Only then did he finally regain his composure.

There was a visible bruise on his forehead where it had struck the nightstand, though that minor injury meant nothing to him at this point.

”What happened, what on earth happened...”