Chapter 1 The Forum

The lively scene on the forum showed no signs of waning after two days. Many of those who posted and flamed each other had even developed a kind of feeling, though that feeling was hatred…

What kind of person is most likely to make enemies and develop long-term hatred? A petty person.

So, before the public beta even started, many petty people had already arranged duels on the forum, preparing for a life-or-death showdown in "Survival Mode" to determine who was superior. Of course, the prerequisite was that they had to reach level fifteen or higher to enter that mode. And both sides had to believe they had a sure chance of winning before such a contest would begin.

Petty people fear losing face the most because their inner selves are so unsightly.

They fear losing because it’s embarrassing, but if they win, petty people won't leave their opponents any dignity at all. That's why they're petty people.

If a petty person loses unfairly, they will have all sorts of excuses, such as "You've spent more time in the game than me," "You're a higher level than me," "Your equipment is better than mine," and the two most cutting: "I wasn't feeling it" and "No explanation."

It's easy to win against a gentleman, but to win against a petty person, you have to be able to dismantle a Gundam with your bare hands, and find dozens of witnesses to testify, and preferably film the whole process. Only then will the petty person admit defeat, and then resent you for the rest of their life…

Feng Bujue hadn't been paying much attention to the game these past two days. He spent two days eating plain noodles and concentrating on writing, and he finished his manuscript for the month. Also, Assas finally understood that the sandbox was the toilet.

On Tuesday morning, Thriller Paradise opened again, this time in its public beta version.

Feng Bujue didn't log in right away. Obviously, the launch time overlapped with his sleep schedule. He had finally adjusted his body clock, and he didn't want to mess it up again. After all, waking up at twelve and sleeping at four in the morning could save him a meal…

At one thirty in the afternoon, Feng Bujue filled Assas's bowl with cat food, cleaned the sandbox, and waited on this little ancestor before lying down in the game pod.

A series of system prompts are omitted here. After arriving in the login space, Feng Bujue didn't notice any obvious changes.

He tapped the touchscreen and looked at his friends list. All four names were grayed out, indicating they were offline.

"Ah… I really am idle…" Feng Bujue mocked himself in a lazy tone.

There were no additions to the interface. It just looked more complete and aesthetically pleasing. In addition, the game instructions were more comprehensive. The question Feng Bujue had raised last time about "which items are not displayed in the settlement after being brought out of the script" could now be found in the FAQ.

Seeing this, Feng Bujue remembered to sort out his inventory.

The current inventory capacity was 7/10, containing: Mario's Wrench, Eye of Hatred, Western-Style Kitchen Knife, Baseball Bat, M1911A1 Pistol, Echo Armor, and a Bag of Garlic.

The anti-toxin serum for the Z-virus was a plot item that could not be brought out of the script. In the last script, Feng Bujue threw away the serum in his inventory on the way back to the gun shop from the Ellerby Building. At that time, both he and Xiao Tan had already injected the serum, and the two GMs said they had passive skills that were enough to resist all viruses in low-level scripts, so those were useless.

His flashlight was lost and destroyed when he was besieged by zombies in the basketball hall. Fortunately, he had another one stored in the space, which he could use to replace it. As for that bag of garlic, Feng Bujue felt that he shouldn't need it again, and it wasn't a difficult item to obtain, so he destroyed it in the game menu. Winchester and its corresponding bullets were given to Xiao Tan; the M1911A1 pistol was fully loaded, but there was no spare ammunition. After throwing away the garlic and taking out the flashlight from the storage space later, the inventory would still occupy seven slots.

After sorting out his inventory, Feng Bujue turned around, thinking of going to the metal room next door to claim the extra rewards for the Fear rating, but suddenly heard a system prompt:

[You may now select the area you wish to go to.]

After the voice prompt, the data stream formed a light flow on the side of the elevator door, in a place that was originally empty, and drew out a rectangular operating area. After the image materialized, there were five fist-sized buttons, all with words on them, respectively:

[Storage Room] [Meeting Room] [Mall] [Scare Box] [Do Not Press This]

Feng Bujue's gaze was naturally attracted to the last button.

"Hey… What does 'Do Not Press This' mean…" His expression was subtle. "If you don't want people to press it, don't make it, okay… Writing 'Do Not Press' just makes people want to press it even more…"

He hesitated for a few seconds and couldn't help but reach out and press it. The light on the button lit up for a second when it was pressed, and then… nothing happened.

Feng Bujue waited for thirty seconds, looked around, and still saw no abnormalities. He couldn't help but say, "What's this… a cold joke?"

"Hehehe… You pressed it after all." A very lewd laugh accompanied by words suddenly came from behind Feng Bujue.

He turned around and saw a person standing a few steps away from him in the corner, in a place that was just empty.

This was a Caucasian man in his twenties, dressed in a black suit, thin, pale, with short hair, wearing a pair of glasses, with a layer of white light covering the lenses. It must be said that although his temperament was lewd, objectively speaking, this person was very handsome.

"Hey… Buddy, how did you get in here?" Feng Bujue asked.

"Hehe…" The man snapped his fingers, and the button that read [Do Not Press This] disappeared into a data stream. "Isn't it just moving around in a game space? Very simple, hehehe…" He seemed to like making a few sneaky laughs from his throat like this, his laughter was extremely lewd.

"Are you… an NPC? An administrator?" Feng Bujue wondered. "Wait… you can't be an NPC, I'm not in a script…" He paused for a moment. "Hmm… after the public beta, will everyone's login space be equipped with an AI like a little assistant? That's not right! Shouldn't that kind of NPC be a hot beauty in revealing clothes?"

"You're thinking too much." The man smiled. "Hehehe… Just think of me as an administrator, but you probably won't be able to find any information about me from the official channels. They're likely to tell you that there's no such person as me."

Hearing this, Feng Bujue's expression changed slightly, and he said in a serious tone, "Are you a Derivative?"

"Hahahaha…" The man laughed loudly, shaking his head. "Hehe… Derivatives are at least two dimensions lower than me." He pushed up his glasses and continued, "You can call me Woody, w-o-o-d-y…"

"Wait a minute." Feng Bujue interjected. "Who exactly are you? What do you want with me? Was that button your prank?"

"Hehe… That button was just a harmless joke." Woody replied, "I've come to ask you some questions."

"Let me get this straight… Are you here on behalf of Dream Inc. to ask me, or out of personal interest?" Feng Bujue always felt that there was something indescribably strange about the person in front of him.

This guy can appear in my login space like this, and can also make adjustments to the environment, then he's probably an administrator from Dream Inc., but what he said is very problematic, what does "Just think of me as an administrator" mean, and "They are at least two dimensions lower than me," how did you calculate that?

"I come from hell, and due to work needs, I have to confirm some questions with you." Woody's glasses always had a white light on them, making it impossible to see his expression.

"You administrators are all late-stage chuunibyou…" Feng Bujue immediately thought of Pan Feng and Hua Xiong.

"As a person with a mental abnormality, are you talking to me about chuunibyou?" Woody replied.

Feng Bujue thought: As expected… the game company already knows. That's right… No matter what, all the scripts so far have been cleared with a Scare Value of 0, so they've long been listed as abnormal data by the system, right? So… this guy's job is to specifically deal with players suspected of cheating?

"Hehe… You can think that way." Woody chuckled lewdly.

"Huh?" Feng Bujue was taken aback. "What?" He thought to himself: Impossible, right? Does he know what I'm thinking?

Woody didn't follow up and brushed it off with a few laughs: "Hehehe… First of all, I'd like to ask, are you a Christian?"

Feng Bujue was also familiar with charlatan techniques like mind reading, so he didn't delve into Woody's words just now, and just assumed that the other party was playing tricks. Hearing Woody's question, he replied, "I'm more of a believer in science."

"Hehehe… Very good." Woody laughed. "I'm done asking."

"Hey… Dude, what's going on? Is this a prank show? Is the system filming?" Feng Bujue asked.

"I've already digested the images and sounds that already exist in your memory, you don't need to tell me. I just need to confirm this." Woody said.

Feng Bujue squinted at Woody, took two steps back, and said, "This… Woody, bro, where did you say you came from just now…"

"Where I come from is where you will go, hehehe…" Woody was still smiling lewdly. "Alright, I'm leaving. I think when we meet again, you will be very angry, but that's life. Anger is always more useful than despair, isn't it?"

"Wait, you…" Feng Bujue was completely confused by him. This guy was simply inexplicable.

"Mortal, you are excellent and interesting. You are a suitable candidate. I'm going to bet on you… hmm… I'll bet the bag of Judas's coins. This is a big deal, hehehe… Don't let me down." Woody shrugged and smiled, and with a turn, he walked into the mirror wall of the elevator.

After Woody entered the mirror, his figure suddenly twisted. His figure turned into a black demonic shadow in an instant. Its image was difficult to describe in words. If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then the demonic shadow broke through the window in an instant and directly tore at the human spiritual world.

At this moment, Feng Bujue felt an emotion that should not exist—fear.

This feeling, which he could no longer be physically aroused by, emerged as clearly as a branding iron on his heart. Without a doubt, this was fear, and it was the kind of unforgettable, indelible terror experience.

Staring at that formless and soulless demonic shadow was like having your soul firmly gripped by a sky-shattering demonic palm, ready to be drawn out of your body at any time and turned into nothing.

He didn't know how long it had been, but Feng Bujue came back to his senses. He was still in shock and instinctively looked at the time on the wall. Only a few dozen seconds had passed since he had last looked away. He couldn't calm down and asked himself in his heart: What was all that just now? Reality or illusion? Could it be… that the shadows in my brain have spread, leading to new symptoms?