Players, Please Board the Train

“On July 20th of the same year—earlier than when you were admitted—there was a citywide power outage. It wasn’t just a blackout; several neighboring provinces experienced precision instruments shutting down. That triggered several major accidents. But the scope was too large and, given the technology at the time, no conclusions could be drawn, so the case was sealed.”

“Ten years ago, when you were seventeen, a similar incident occurred again, though on a much smaller scale. Back then researchers believed fluctuations in cosmic matter affected the instruments, and some detection devices did register abnormal energy fluctuations.” Team Leader Wu paused. “Those two incidents couldn’t be explained at the time, but from today’s perspective...”

“There were other civilizations... or rather, players invaded Zone 014.” Xu Huo finished for him, having skimmed the file quickly. “Zone 014 is located at the E27 Wormhole Point. There should be other wormhole points beyond it, civilizations that created games, and players who entered those games long ago. It’s not impossible that someone traversed the vast cosmos and landed on a lower-level civilization.”

After hearing Yang Chao yesterday, he already had a hypothesis; this dossier further confirmed his thinking. The second sealed-file report happened before the other four kids went missing or died. He was certain that people at Seventeenth Hospital had deliberately been cultivating him and the other four children back then for unknown purposes. As the only one who neither “disappeared” nor “died,” the price he paid was Xu Zhi’s death.

The bottle struck and shattered. Xu Huo shook his hand, expressionless, pulled the shard out of his palm, and tossed it into the trash.

“I’ve checked the Seventeenth Hospital patient list as well,” Team Leader Wu said. “Those four kids admitted around the same time as you... it’s very strange.”

To win Xu Huo over, Team Leader Wu had dug into his past. He could not have missed such dramatic changes among the children treated at the same time. In the police’s sealed archives, the case where nearly the entire family and relatives were dead had led investigators to suspect the child who had once been admitted, but they lacked evidence. One policeman who later died unexpectedly even mentioned the child himself had confessed.

A teenager under eighteen, committing such horrendous acts without leaving a trace and then daring to taunt investigators—this could not be measured as ordinary crime. The other two kids were similar.

Therefore Wu respected how rare Xu Huo was. Another child from that eerie Seventeenth Hospital, his performance over the past ten years, while not as outstanding as the others, felt more genuine: extreme and rule-breaking, but with the right stance.

“Twenty years ago, an inexplicable hospital appeared and admitted five children in succession. Ten years ago, all five except you either vanished or died,” Jiang Qiao said. “It looks a bit like an experiment: lay the groundwork twenty years ago, inspect the results ten years later.”“If Seventeenth Hospital went to that much trouble, guessing whether the other four actually died or faked their deaths isn’t that hard. As experimental subjects, Mr. Xu, you were the only one left behind. Maybe in the hospital’s eyes, you were a failed subject.”

“A failed subject...” Xu Huo chewed on the three words, then suddenly laughed, his meaning unclear. “Failed subject, fine...”

Team Leader Wu subtly nudged Jiang Qiao, signaling her not to provoke. But she continued: “From what I know, your elder brother Xu Zhi was highly intelligent. Have you considered his death might have been staged? Don’t you want to find him?”

“Xu Zhi is dead.” Xu Huo’s expression turned grave; the gloom filled his eyes. “I had a DNA test before his cremation. Unless someone prepared a clone in advance.”

But that was nearly impossible—he was the one chosen for cultivation. If the doctor who appeared in his dream had returned, it would be to find him. His memory was flawed. As Jiang Qiao suggested, he might be a failed subject, but if he survived, why did Xu Zhi die?

“You should cooperate with us,” Jiang Qiao said. “Xu Zhi’s death is not simple. Seventeenth Hospital may be linked to game origins, or at least related to the game. If you want the truth and revenge for Xu Zhi, you should work with the Special Defense Department.”

“How much of the game worlds can you explore alone? Join the Special Defense Department, and I can promise that any clues they find related to Seventeenth Hospital in the game will be shared with you free of charge.”

Xu Huo remained unmoved and said clearly this time, “I will not join the Special Defense Department.” Human nature is the hardest thing to trust, and besides, he intended to handle this himself.

“I’ll stay in Ting City from now on. Unless something special happens, I won’t come to Capital City,” he said. “About last night, the Special Defense Department should reflect: you treat Evolvers as beasts that must be collared. When those beasts break free, the first to get bitten will be the one holding the leash.”

“You can’t say it like that.” Team Leader Wu, annoyed at his stubbornness—especially since they had cooperated before—replied. “If not controlled, some people will cause trouble...”

Xu Huo looked at him coldly. “Control Evolvers? What ability do you have to control Evolvers?”

Wu was stumped; his face flushed. Xu Huo left no room for the Department’s dignity. “It’s only a matter of time before you are replaced by players, unless you kill every Evolver. You can’t do that, and you won’t dare to try.”

“A small player population means this game zone lacks vitality. Zones without vitality will be controlled by forces from other regions; becoming a breeding ground is only one possible outcome. Do you really think a civilization capable of crossing space to open new game zones would treat the billions of ordinary people here as friendly guests?”

Wu and Jiang Qiao’s faces soured. After a while Jiang Qiao said, “The Special Defense Department is not opposed to players. We’re all trying to keep Zone 014 alive in the game. You don’t need so much hostility toward us.”

“I’m not hostile toward you.” Xu Huo replied. “If you assume my refusal to join equals hostility, then forget I said anything.”

“Of course not!” Wu still could not understand Xu Huo’s attitude shift, but adopted a firmer tone. “We just hope you inform the Special Defense Department before you act next time. Even if I stood with you last night, could other Department members? Don’t forget, the Department also cultivates players. At certain times, as you said, we can’t stop them.”

“I understand.” Xu Huo glanced toward the window. Besides the armed personnel who had guarded the hotel last night, two more teams had arrived during the conversation.

“I apologize for causing trouble to the Special Defense Department. My stance hasn’t changed—there’s no need to waste manpower or resources surveilling me.” He raised his hand and tossed out the Fifty-Fifty Air Window. Before stepping inside, he turned back: “Please pass my meaning along.”

With that, both man and item vanished into midair.

Wu and Jiang Qiao exchanged surprised looks. Jiang Qiao said, “He’s entering a dungeon, right?”

“Clearly an item,” Wu said through clenched teeth.

At that moment Jiang Qiao’s phone rang. When she picked up, Team Leader Song’s booming voice came through: “Where did he go? Why is he gone?”

“He has spatial movement items; you didn’t expect that, did you?” Jiang Qiao scoffed. “When someone dares to stay behind, how could they not have a backup plan?”