Players, Please Board the Train

When Xu Huo left home back then, things between him and his family were a little tense. His grandfather didn’t open the study door for him; from behind the door he told him to go sweep his elder brother’s grave.

“I understand.” Xu Huo replied through the door, then asked, “How have you been feeling lately?”

“I’m not dead yet.” The voice from behind the door sounded a bit impatient. “Too much fussing—are you even a man? Hurry up and go!”

Xu Huo turned and went downstairs, bluntly asking his father, “Has grandpa fallen ill?”

His father looked a little surprised, then said, “He’s been sick for about half a year. His legs feel weak and he can’t walk. He told me not to tell you.”

Xu Huo paused slightly. “What did the doctor say?”

“Same as always—he’s old.”

At that moment a familiar man in a suit walked in from outside.

“Team Leader Wu.”

Team Leader Wu grinned and said, “Who would’ve thought we’d meet again here in Capital City. I came this time to bring you something.”“You were injured in Harbor City; the higher-ups are quite concerned.”

“My wound was treated in the game with a potion.” In fact, the Mutant toxin that had been in him had already been decomposed.

“How’s my friend doing now?”

“You mean Wang Chaoqing?” Team Leader Wu chuckled. “That guy is a real sly one. After we gave him an inhibitor he refused to leave. He insists the state administer an antidote, but the antidote is still under research and not perfected yet—can’t just give it out.”

“Let’s talk somewhere else.” Xu Huo suggested.

The two moved to the small study on the second floor. Team Leader Wu stated his purpose first: “The state values talent. Of course we’d like you to join the newly established security division. But the state also respects your wishes—wherever you are, as long as your heart is with the country, that’s fine.”

Xu Huo smiled. “You didn’t find my past files?”

Xu Huo’s records had of course been closely examined. The leaders had agreed that if he agreed to join, he would be fully cultivated; if not, the state could still offer certain support because of his past contributions.

“That’s all stuff from the past. Once someone’s sick and gets better, it’s fine, right?” Team Leader Wu added, recalling their previous interactions and explaining why he was sent.

Xu Huo lit a cigarette slowly. “If you looked into my files, you should know I was once treated in a psychiatric hospital during my childhood.”

“I had an impulse to look for that hospital a couple years ago, but it was gone—no building remained, no trace at all. I couldn’t find it in any official records.”

“I checked institutions and hospitals that should have had contact with that facility. There were no records of that hospital in their files either. Yet some people remembered that patients had indeed been transferred to that psychiatric hospital at the time; it’s just that all the expected paperwork and archived documents were completely missing.”

Team Leader Wu’s face gradually grew serious. “I’ll investigate this matter.”

Xu Huo nodded slightly. “I don’t plan to join any organization for now, but I did bring back some potions from the game this time—you can take them back as a token.”

Team Leader Wu sounded regretful as usual but didn’t press the matter. “If you have any difficulties, tell us. The state will help where it can.”

“I’ll think about it.” Xu Huo said. “Were the player losses this time severe?”

On the way back he saw screens everywhere calling for ordinary people to sign up to become players, but the response was lukewarm.

When the subject came up, Team Leader Wu couldn’t help but sigh. “Because of the particular nature of this incident, apart from the innocent civilian casualties, players suffered the largest losses.”

Whether it was elite players gathered in Capital City, defender players from various cities, or the Vanguard Players supporting Harbor City, more than two-thirds died.

Player development had barely started and it almost got cut off.

“Increase player numbers as quickly as possible.” Xu Huo said. “I heard something bad in the game: if a new game zone loses its potential during the initial evolution phase, the game is very likely to abandon it.”

“What does that mean?” Team Leader Wu’s expression stiffened.

“It means the whole world could experience what happened in Country B: a mass invasion of Mutants into Zone 014, ordinary people unable to naturally become Evolvers, and eventually the entire world reduced to Mutant grazing land.”

“That’s huge!” Team Leader Wu wiped cold sweat from his brow. “You might not know, but just this noon an internal regulation about blocking external-zone players was released.”

“Blocking?” Xu Huo raised an eyebrow.

“Exactly. From massive surveillance footage we found that external-zone players seemed to rely on items to get into Zone 014, and it appears they need a Zone 014 dungeon ticket. We infer that both the ticket and the items that allow entry into the real world have limitations. So even high-level players can’t just come whenever they like.” Team Leader Wu explained. “We also believe the incident in Country B was caused by players.”

“If external-zone players must use a ticket to enter Zone 014’s real world, then the maximum time each player can stay is less than two months.” Xu Huo said.

“That’s right. The game requires every player to undergo a dungeon once per natural month; no player can violate that.”

With that constraint, players can’t linger in Zone 014 for long. So once external-zone players are found, the priority is containment. It seems this discovery made them complacent—the real danger lies in the game, not in a tiny number of players.

“I need to report this up the chain immediately.” Team Leader Wu hurried to leave, then added before departing, “One more thing: there’s an epidemic sweeping Country Y. Until they determine its origin, try to minimize contact with outsiders.”

After seeing him out, Xu Huo returned to his room and checked the rewards from this dungeon run.

Aside from Granny Bai’s “tooth,” there was only one added item:

[Adult Fairy Tale Book: Once opened, this book will automatically narrate unsettling fairy tales. Not recommended for use by anyone under eighteen.]

Xu Huo took it out. It was a hard red-covered book three inches thick. When he opened it, bloodlike droplets inexplicably welled across the pristine white pages, then lines of text floated into view while a dry, eerie voice began to read aloud the words.

“So it’s a horror story.” He set the book aside and casually pulled up some horror music, listening to the narration while the music played.

But the music hadn’t been playing two minutes before the reading voice grew quieter. The writing and bloodstains on the page faded, and the cover flipped shut by itself.

At first Xu Huo assumed time had run out, so he opened it from the middle. This time the dot-shaped blood marks turned into surging, wave-like patterns. He kept the music on, but the reading lasted even shorter—before he got through half a page the book shut itself.

When he opened it again, a line of bleeding words appeared on the page: “As an adult fairy tale book, it has lost its dignity and intends to slack off.”