Chapter 78: Artificial Soul 05
Survival count: 9200.
When Kui Xin returned to the First World, the survival count was still 9201.
Opening the death list again, she indeed saw a new line at the bottom.
“Proxy 8033, died on August 3rd.”
There was no notification about who had killed this proxy.
If an ordinary person had taken a player’s qualification, then the survival count on the forum should have increased by one. With one plus and one minus, overall, the survival count would remain unchanged, but now it had only decreased without any increase.
Kui Xin waited for ten minutes, refreshing repeatedly, but the survival count never rose.
From this, Kui Xin drew two conclusions. First, an ordinary person who forced their way into the game could only register on the forum and enter the Second World when the second beta test was opened. Second, the individuals who gained game qualifications had temporarily declined the official beta test invitation.
The first conclusion was straightforward; given that the first batch of beta testing had already started, letting someone cut in midway seemed illogical, albeit it could be somewhat explained.
The second conclusion had factual support.
Initially, this game’s beta testing operated on a reservation system; only players who filled out an identification form online for a reservation had the opportunity to receive a beta invitation. Moreover, the beta invitation clearly stated that elderly individuals and minors were not allowed to participate in the game.
“Crimson Soil” was a game that, from any angle at the beginning, was quite normal; the game system had not sprung upon anyone unexpectedly, and invitations were even sent via email.
Things only started to become odd when players agreed to the beta invitation. A silver identification card appeared mysteriously, and everyone was collectively transported to the Second World at midnight, loading a bizarre game system in their minds.
Kui Xin believed this was actually an obvious filtering process.
During this filtering process, the elderly and minors were disqualified from entering the game, while middle-aged individuals burdened by life pressures and those from military backgrounds or holding government positions typically did not have the time and energy to join a game that had not been officially released as beta testers, meaning they would not fill out the reservation forms. Most players were young people, particularly those with less life pressure and plenty of free time.
Thus, this filtered group of young individuals entered the Second World.
Furthermore, Kui Xin noticed that “Crimson Soil” was constantly presenting players with subtle choices.
When she received the beta test invitation for the game, the officials sent an email, and only by agreeing to all attached documents could she gain the beta invitation code.
Before registering on the game forum, the officials issued “six points of advice for players,” along with a pop-up message: “You only have this one opportunity to exit.”
You have only one opportunity to exit!
This was clearly a choice. If a player chose to exit at this step, they could continue being an ordinary person, avoiding the Second World’s bloody chaos.
At the very least, this indicated that the game officials would not forcibly pull people into the game.
Choosing to opt-out of the game, denying the chance to become a player, would mean losing the qualification to traverse to the Second World, yet it allowed for a stable life.
Although the officials did not disclose the true nature of the “Crimson Soil” game world, they indeed provided subtle hints, even implicit indications.
Unfortunately, most players took this lightly, clicking confirm without a second thought, including Kui Xin.
Such is the jest of fate.
After entering the game, receiving tasks in the Second World, the game system continually offered choices.
Upon triggering a task, players could accept or decline it with no punishment for either option; failing a task also incurred no penalties. Upon completing a task, the game’s reward was not skill upgrades or physical items, but an “invitation letter.”
Kui Xin could select one person to invite into the game.
Though she had yet to use this invitation letter, Kui Xin guessed that the usage rules for the “invitation letter” would likely be similar to those she encountered when receiving her beta invitation.
Those invited by Kui Xin could either accept or refuse the invitation.
The reason it was called an invitation letter was that it allowed for the options of accepting or refusing; otherwise, the word “invitation” would lose its significance.
Kui Xin had not yet decided who to give this invitation letter to.
She was prepared not to give it to anyone; she did not want to expose her identity in front of others, nor did she want others to unwittingly accept the invitation, subsequently becoming pawns of the Second World’s federation government and dark organizations.
Kui Xin exited the pinned thread; there were already numerous new posts in the forum.
She briefly scanned the new posts, finding that the warning post from last night was still on the homepage, with nearly a thousand replies. Some others also shared information they knew, but this information was only a drizzle compared to the primary informant “Lucky Goose.”
Because of the overwhelming number of replies, some information was scattered across other threads, making it difficult to find. Therefore, someone opened a separate thread to compile the information for easier access, while some players proficient in foreign languages translated information posts from players of other countries.
There was heated discussion regarding the new rules, but most people’s conjectures were quite similar to Kui Xin’s.
Everyone believed that someone must have triggered the rules, leading to the official announcement on the forum.
Who was the deceased player? Who was the ordinary person that obtained the beta test qualification?
Amidst the chaotic discussions, some points were particularly worth contemplating.
“Perhaps after a series of events, everyone will think the Second World is too dangerous and frightening, and they will be eager to leave that world, but let us not forget, that world hides so many treasures.”
First post: Yes, treasures. This idea has been raised before—moving the technology and scientific achievements of the Second World to the First World. However, most players are ordinary individuals, and carrying a thesis of tens of thousands of words is extremely challenging, not to mention comprehending and applying those complicated scientific principles and formulas.
But experts and scholars are different. If experts or scholars were to gain qualifications to enter the Second World, every extra day they spent there would allow them to absorb additional knowledge. Bringing even some civilian technologies from the Second World back to the First World could save us decades of struggle in related fields.
If high-level technological achievements could be brought to the First World, then the First World could very well enter a cyberpunk high-tech information society.
Some of our fellow countrymen have experienced many dangers in the Second World, making us hesitant to approach it; most people seem to only notice the dangers of the Second World, neglecting the transformative elements it could offer, such as the scientific achievements of the Second World and the mysterious extraordinary abilities.
The Second World is filled with sharp traps, yet it is also a tempting treasure. The treasure is there, waiting for people to seize it, while the greedy will commit evil acts to obtain it.
We are still too small and too weak. Our abilities are limited, and our vision is narrow. Being swept along by the era brings a sense of powerlessness.
3L: What concerns me now is whether ordinary people, upon realizing these benefits, will turn to hunt us in order to gain qualifications? Expanding on this, will the First World’s government agencies investigate the insider information and send the “experts and scholars” mentioned by the original poster to the Second World for technology acquisition?
4L replies to 3L: At this stage, in order to gain qualifications, one must kill players to take their qualifications… I feel this is something the neighboring Lighthouse Nation could do, betraying its own citizens and killing players to replace them with their own; their capitalists generally do not regard ordinary people as human.
16L: I work in a climate monitoring organization overseas. I’d like to point out that the invasion of the Second World may not be kept hidden for long. Soon after the mirage appeared, we used meteorological aircraft to measure the weather conditions, and under the then-existing meteorological circumstances, a mirage should not have been formed, yet the phantom appeared globally.
The abnormal situation is so overt; people are neither blind nor foolish—ordinary people from various nations have seen it. How could the upper echelons of each country not respond? I believe that certain stronger nations will soon take action; capturing players is only a matter of time, and classic cases of being shot in the back but adjudicated as suicides will reemerge.
17L: You’re referring to the Beautiful Country, right? They wouldn’t hesitate to act on such insane matters.
18L: I am beginning to panic. Most people’s extraordinary abilities are not strong enough to withstand firearms; if we really get targeted, won’t it just take one encounter to end it?
25L: For now, we just have to wait for the game officials to release the second batch of beta test announcements. We are part of the first batch; in the future, there might be a second or third batch of beta tests. If the game can quickly launch the second beta test, it could somewhat relieve the players’ desperate situation, allowing those who want to enter the game to do so through legitimate beta channels without resorting to murder. If the game officials stubbornly refuse to open registration, those eyeing the resources in the Second World will likely turn against us.
26L: But there’s still a problem: even if there is a second beta test, how many slots will there be? Can we ensure that every application will definitely be selected? If these cannot be guaranteed, then we remain in danger.
33L: I thought I could live a stable life after playing survival games in the Second World, but it turns out the First World has also become a survival game.
34L replies to 33L: All of this had long been anticipated; from the moment the game system started following us back to the real world, we should have expected this day. Two worlds, two survival games. The First World is normal mode for now, but the Second World is hell mode.
Kui Xin twisted her stiff neck, lying back on the bed, continuing to browse the forum.
In a province where only a few dozen players existed, the density was low, and the information exchange that could occur in the real world was quite limited. Players had only the forum as their source of information, so Kui Xin had to, like a web-addicted girl, hug her mobile phone and keep refreshing posts.
She skimmed past discussion posts and directed her gaze toward informative posts.
In the Second World, Kui Xin’s actions were constrained by various factors, making it difficult to search for information without reservations. The informational posts published by other players in the forum were, therefore, useful to her.
The informative posts varied, covering topics from how to use identification to access public spaces, to how to use transport, to conducting bank transactions, using electronic menus in restaurants, and disassembling mechanical prosthetics.
“Here’s how to disassemble, repair, and exchange the energy source of mechanical prosthetics.”
First post: Regardless of whether your mechanical prosthetic is an old model or a new model, its disassembly switch should be located in the armpit, at the knee bend, and the inner thigh; these spots have an orange symbol. Opening the metal casing where the orange symbol is located reveals a button that, when pressed, will automatically disconnect the prosthetic from the body.
If you’re using a cheap knockoff prosthetic circulating in the black market, this method might not work. Cheap knockoffs are typically made from reclaimed parts from junkyards, which are low-cost but not standardized, making them difficult to repair, with bizarre constructions.
Standard mechanical prosthetics generally have but one way to be repaired: continuing the warranty by paying annually to extend it. Advanced warranty contracts require a higher payment, and repairs involve a technician coming to your location; if you’ve paid less, you would have a lower-level warranty contract requiring you to visit a specialty store to repair the prosthetic.
As for the energy battery of mechanical prosthetics, they generally need to be replaced every month, each time requiring a purchase of a new energy battery from the specialty store. In fact, companies in the Second World have the capability to produce more advanced mechanical prosthetics that are long-lasting and can be recharged at any time, but—this impacts their profits.
You might not know, but these companies that sell mechanical prosthetics garner around twenty percent of their annual revenue from the prosthetics themselves, while the remaining eighty percent comes from warranty fees and battery sales, with battery sales constituting the bulk of their income!
What’s worse, purchasing a branded mechanical prosthetic requires buying that brand’s battery; different brands of prosthetics and batteries are not interchangeable; to keep your prosthetic operational, you need batteries! You can only continuously buy their batteries, again and again. With prosthetics, batteries become a necessity, allowing them to constantly reap profits, and you must foot the bill.
This is the trick of capital: one bloodletting isn’t enough; they must continually drain blood from the common folk. Warranty fees operate under the same premise, as in the Second World, mechanics need to obtain qualification certificates to work in prosthetic repairs; the government enforces this strictly. Working without passing government inspection is illegal, classified as illegal business operations.
Tsk, I’ve gained knowledge. Kui Xin thought.
Political education books taught—capital has come into this world, from head to toe, every pore dripping with blood and filth.
Kui Xin scrolled down and spotted another informative post.
“The Beginning and Current Status of the Anti-Mechanical Prosthetic Movement.”
First post: Some of you might have never even heard of this movement, haha.
Just as there are environmental protection and anti-war movements in the world, the Second World too has similar political movements. Strangely, the government hasn’t cracked down heavily on it; I suspect their reason for turning a blind eye is fear of fierce backlash from too much suppression.
The anti-mechanical prosthetic movement began decades ago when mechanical prosthetics were just becoming popular, and information technology was trending toward maturity. Some believed that machines were unreliable and could be hacked.
There was an extreme case where a hacker took control of an enemy’s mechanical arm, causing that arm to malfunction and suffocate him. Although it was an extreme case, it exposed the safety hazards surrounding mechanical prosthetics.
Following this, the anti-mechanical prosthetic movement emerged. Some people opposed installation of mechanical prosthetics and shunned any smart informational devices; certain extremists even desired a return to a primitive society to avoid being controlled by machines and becoming slaves to them.
While this may sound somewhat amusing, I can’t laugh at all. What those civilians genuinely fear isn’t betrayal by machines… but the federal government; they are afraid the federal government will use machinery to manipulate the populace.
15L (Original poster): I went to grab a bite; I didn’t finish what I wanted to say.
The term “mechanical neural connection technology” is likely unfamiliar to most people. This is a new technology only researched in recent years.
The principle of old technology is to connect machines with human nerves, controlling the mechanical prosthetics through neural signals, with the flaw being a microsecond delay in signal transmission. However, the new technology has advanced further, realizing truly zero latency, which involves implanting an additional signal transmission and reception device in the human brain, transmitting brain signals directly to the mechanical prosthetic for control.
So you understand now, right? The old technology at least didn’t require touching the brain; prosthetics could just be fitted. New technology interferes directly with the brain, which naturally raises concerns, right? Recently, the anti-mechanical prosthetic movement has grown quite popular; citizens from several major cities have gathered with electronic banners, peacefully protesting outside large corporate buildings…
I have to say, it’s a wonder that these naive Second World natives could pull anything off!
The Second World is a bottomless pit, where the federation, financial magnates, covert forces, and ordinary citizens engage in a chaotic tug-of-war. The federation and financial magnates are in cahoots, holding an absolute advantage, while the weak ordinary citizens can only be victims.
Just as Kui Xin was about to continue reading the informative post, she suddenly received a call from Yuan Lu.
“Kui Xin, we’ve decided to post an alliance thread on the forum,” Yuan Lu said, “We will adopt an anonymous form; all members’ identity information will be confidential, and we will only hold periodic meetings to exchange information.”
