Chapter 2: Sea Without Light 02
Kui Xin curled up in bed, staring at the glowing mobile phone screen.
It was the middle of the night, and she couldn’t sleep.
The events of the day were somewhat strange, leaving her uneasy, and she couldn’t find rest.
All day, Kui Xin had been refreshing the forum, browsing posts from beta testers. She didn’t understand much of the foreign language, so she tried to take screenshots for translation, but the phone notified her that screenshots were prohibited on the page. Kui Xin had no choice but to copy the letters onto paper and then take a picture for translation.
The number of registered users on the forum was increasing, and the number of posts was rising as well. Many shared her confusion, and some people were already asking about the “six-point announcement for players” and the bloody count of ten thousand survivors at the top of the forum.
Some beta testers had also received the silver card; just like Kui Xin, they had not filled in their address information on the official game website, yet the silver cards had been accurately delivered to their homes.
Kui Xin clicked on the post with the highest number of replies in Chinese.
Original poster: “Even though there’s almost no privacy in the era of big data, is it too much for the game officials to act like this? If they don’t respond to the address acquisition issue, I wouldn’t mind taking legal action to protect my rights.”
A wave of agreement flooded the replies beneath this post.
However, someone quickly responded: “I feel something’s off about this; it’s like it’s haunted. I live in the countryside, and my deliveries come every few days, but guess how my game card arrived? My cat came back with something in its mouth after a stroll, and it turned out to be my game card, with my real name and forum ID written on it. How outrageous!”
24L: “I also live in the countryside. I found my card while gathering eggs in the chicken coop, and it scared me…”
36L: “I ordered a household appliance online, and when I opened the package, there was an extra box inside. I thought it was a gift from the seller, but it was actually a game card!”
This situation was not only ridiculous but also eerie.
The numbering was based on the order of forum registration, and card production took time. How could it be that someone had just registered and immediately received a card? Moreover, players received their cards in various bizarre ways, enveloped in an inexplicable eerie atmosphere.
Kui Xin exited the post and opened a card-sharing thread.
The poster had obscured their real name and player ID on the card before displaying it.
The card shown by the poster was slightly different from Kui Xin’s.
The front of the silver card in the post did not display the pattern of a mechanical hand but rather a pair of scissors, which appeared sharp and formidable.
Kui Xin’s card had the prefix “Remover,” while this poster’s card was prefixed with “Proxy,” not “Remover.”
Why was that? What was the difference between Remover and Proxy?
Kui Xin frowned in thought.
After browsing the forum for a while, she discovered a phenomenon.
So far, all the card-sharing posts had cards with the prefix “Proxy.” None had the same “Remover” title as hers.
Kui Xin reached down to the bedside to grab her card, which emanated a shimmering silver light. Her real name and ID were engraved on it, serving as her identification. The only thing she couldn’t comprehend was the meaning of the three words “Remover.”
The events of the day had left Kui Xin enveloped in confusion.
She glanced at the time, 23:59; in less than a minute, it would be midnight, and the official beta test day would arrive. Kui Xin sighed, weary, rubbing her temples and preparing to sleep, as she needed to look for a part-time job tomorrow to make some money…
A poor person’s life was so plain and dull.
Just as Kui Xin put down her phone, it suddenly vibrated. She looked closely to see that the forum had issued an announcement.
“Detected that ten thousand beta testers have completed registration, and the game identity cards have been issued.”
“This beta test is a non-chargeable, permanent retention test. There are no shortcuts in the game. Please remember the six-point advice and explore your own ending.”
“Wishing all players a pleasant game. Now, the game begins.”
The game begins?!
Caught off guard by this sentence, Kui Xin was astonished and didn’t have time for any further reaction before she found her surroundings changed.
The weight of her phone vanished from her hand, and she was no longer lying on her bed but standing in endless darkness, unable to see anything above or hear any sound.
The old house with peeling paint was gone, the dim light from the street lamps vanished, and the whirring of the fan ceased; everything fell silent.
Darkness enveloped Kui Xin like a tidal wave, inch by inch swallowing her whole. She instinctively tried to cry out, but it was as if she were drowning, unable to make a sound.
Finally, she lost consciousness.
…
“You have entered a new world.”
“Please check your identity settings in this world.”
“Name: Kui Xin
Faction: Federation · Resistance Army
Identity: Core member of the Mechanized Dawn organization, trainee patrol security officer of the Seventh Squad of the Federation Investigation Bureau, level one wanted criminal of the Federation, undercover agent of the Resistance Army.
Task: Steal confidential information from the Investigation Bureau, gain their trust, and provide intelligence support for the secret operations of the Mechanized Dawn.”
A vague electronic voice echoed in her ears, and in a hazy state, she seemed to see lines of text flashing before her…
Kui Xin gasped in pain, her head pounding.
It felt as if an axe had split her head open, and she thought her head was going to explode.
“Suture needle,” a man said beside her. “Sew up her wounds. Give her a special painkiller; she can’t hold on much longer.”
Was she on an operating table? Kui Xin couldn’t open her eyes, yet her consciousness surprisingly remained alert.
She felt a sharp syringe puncturing her arm, the medication rushing into her; the painkiller was very effective, working quickly to alleviate her headache.
She wasn’t dreaming; no dream had ever given her such vivid sensations.
Kui Xin understood that her current situation was absolutely abnormal. Her predicament defied logic. Perhaps she really had encountered a scenario that only appeared in fantasy novels or films—time travel.
She had crossed over from her shabby little home to an unknown location.
The painkiller she had just received quelled her physical pain, allowing her to concentrate. She felt anxious and panicked, but such emotions would not help her; she knew she had to stay calm.
The beta test forum of “Crimson Soil” announced the game had begun, and then she suddenly jumped to a new location.
Kui Xin speculated she had crossed into the game world of “Crimson Soil.”
In this world, she had another identity.
She focused her mind, and a dark vision abruptly unfolded into a light screen.
The light screen displayed her identity settings in this world that she had just heard.
—”Core member of the Mechanized Dawn organization, trainee patrol security officer of the Seventh Squad of the Federation Investigation Bureau, level one wanted criminal of the Federation, undercover agent of the Resistance Army.”
Kui Xin: Ah… it seems like my identity is quite complex.
She read it over and over, feeling a sense of helplessness.
She didn’t understand what the Mechanized Dawn organization was, but the term “core member” was already enough to convey its significance. And the Federation Investigation Bureau… that should be an official organization. More alarmingly, she was also considered a level one wanted criminal of the Federation; what the heck was that? The title of undercover agent for the Resistance Army sounded like a role leading to disaster.
Being a traitor meant no future!
Having watched countless espionage films, Kui Xin knew that very few undercover agents had a good ending. She felt her future was bleak, and a tragic fate awaited her.
The sounds of medical instruments clattering echoed continuously. Kui Xin could vaguely sense the suture needle piercing and pulling through her flesh.
Her heartbeat, which had been intense when she first regained consciousness, gradually became steady and regular. Her brain was whirring, and her emotions began to settle into calm.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly, Kui Xin felt she could control her eyelids. The effects of the anesthesia were waning.
The man who had been operating on her said, “The medication’s effects are wearing off; she should be waking up soon.”
Kui Xin had to abandon the thought of continuing to feign unconsciousness, slowly cracking her eyelids open just a sliver.
The bright white light made her uncomfortable, and a silver source of light was constantly flashing in front of her eyes.
Struggling to blink, Kui Xin adjusted to the light and discovered the shimmering silver was not a lamp but the reflective lens of the lead surgeon’s glasses.
She slightly moved her head, turning her eyes to dazedly look at the circle of doctors and nurses surrounding the operating table.
“You’re awake?” The doctor in glasses nodded at Kui Xin. “The surgery was very successful.”
Kui Xin decided to pretend she knew nothing.
She put on her best acting skills, attempting to appear like she was trying to remember. “Wh-what happened to me?”
The doctor displayed a sympathetic expression, looking at her with pity. “Oh, poor child, you just had bad luck; your first time on an external assignment as a trainee and you ran into an armed criminal… Alas, the criminal escaped, and you got your head injured, with a fractured skull…”
“Fractured… skull?” Kui Xin appeared confused, but inwardly, she was elated.
A fractured skull; with such a serious injury, she could easily pretend to have amnesia! She had crossed over without gaining the original owner’s memories; if she wasn’t careful, she would surely expose herself.
“Yes, fractured skull, a big hole in your head, blood gushing out.” The doctor said kindly, “But don’t worry; out with the old and in with the new!”
“What do you mean, out with the old and in with the new?” Kui Xin asked in confusion. “Sorry, I seem to not remember a lot…”
“It’s normal to be a bit dazed temporarily; you’ll feel better once the anesthesia wears off. Your skull fracture was a bit severe, and it was difficult to repair, so we had to replace part of your skull.” The doctor cheerfully said, “The Federation’s latest technology, ultra-light alloy skull; after this replacement, you won’t need to worry about getting your head cracked open when chasing criminals again!”
Kui Xin: “???”
Well, she had obtained the legendary iron skull? This was brilliant!
In the future, if she charged at someone, their head would surely ring!
The author has something to say:
Players will traverse between two worlds.
If you discover any inconsistencies or puzzling aspects, it may not be a bug, but rather a foreshadowing.
