Reality Programming Association

Chapter 46: Chapter 20: The Suicider’s Narcolepsy

Yu Xian searched his mind for the right words. He tried to describe the scene in the least graphic, least bloody way possible:

”Wen Xiao, do you know how flight attendants have to train to smile before they can start working? Things like the curve of their lips, the number of teeth they show... that kind of standard, practiced expression.”

Only the sound of ragged breathing came from the other end of the line. Even though Yu Xian had been vague, she must have understood.

”You’ve got to be kidding me...” Wen Xiao’s voice was filled with bewilderment. ”How is that possible? How could a person... at a time like that...”

Yu Xian didn’t answer. He could only remain silent.

After a long moment, there was a soft gasp from the other end of the line.

”Hypersomnia.”

”What?” Yu Xian was taken aback for a second.

”I’ve read through all the medical records and family statements. I couldn’t actually find a common thread for them being ’replaced.’ But I do think the deceased shared one common trait: hypersomnia.”

Wen Xiao lowered her voice and spoke quickly:

”The family members were probably grieving and scared, so they talked a lot about their paranoid feelings, which created a lot of confusing, messy noise in the data. But after I synthesized everything and ruled out the irrelevant details, this was the only physiological trait that was highly consistent. All of the suicide victims suffered from severe hypersomnia.”

As if afraid Yu Xian hadn’t grasped the severity, she explained further:

”They were sleeping for excessively long periods. It was like they were in a coma—very difficult to wake up. And even when you did wake them, they were dazed and out of it, like their soul had left their body.”

Listening to the voice from his phone’s speaker, Yu Xian felt a daze come over him.

’Hypersomnia?’

The description ricocheted around his mind, seeming to trigger a memory.

A few sentences suddenly exploded in his head:

”My greatest hobby now is sleeping. I go to bed early and wake up early, and I’m in great shape!”

”Compared to the experiences I have in my dreams, all the entertainment in the real world is completely dull!”

”Even just a little bit of that lingering aftertaste is more satisfying than playing on my phone or computer!”

A chill ran down Yu Xian’s spine. An unprecedented sense of fear enveloped him.

’Could it be... that all those deceased people were participants in the TDI project?’

’If that theory is correct, then isn’t the invitation code I’m about to receive a one-way ticket to my death?’

’No... something here doesn’t add up.’

Yu Xian forced himself to calm down.

’If those people really died because they participated in the TDI project, why is the project still brazenly recruiting for testers?’

’And why haven’t there been any reports of a mass incident?’

’The police’s criminal investigation division aren’t fools.’

’If so many deaths were connected to this project, there’s no way the police wouldn’t have noticed something. They would’ve taken some kind of action.’

’Even my cousin only focused his suspicions on a ”neurotoxin.” He never mentioned a specific software or project.’

”Yu Xian, are you listening?”

”I’m here.” He took a deep breath and asked:

”Wen Xiao, do the files mention any reason for their hypersomnia? Like if they were taking any medication.”

”No.” Wen Xiao’s answer was firm.

”I was wondering about that too, so I specifically checked. The records only state that they had hypersomnia. One family suspected it was caused by a brain lesion and took them to the hospital for a CT scan and an MRI, but they didn’t find anything wrong. Afterward, it was generally assumed to be due to high stress or a complication of depression.”

Yu Xian fell silent.

’As expected, no mention of the TDI project.’

’Is it because the victims hid it too well? Or is there some other reason?’

”Okay, I understand. Wen Xiao, thank you,” Yu Xian said sincerely.

”This information is really important to me.”

”Then you.”

Wen Xiao suddenly asked:

”Are you also experiencing hypersomnia?”

Yu Xian tried his best to keep his tone steady.

”No. Actually, I’ve been having insomnia lately, I can’t sleep. Probably because I have too much on my mind.”

”Really?” Wen Xiao still sounded worried.

”Really. Don’t worry, my situation should be different from the victims’.”

”That’s good... I’m going to hang up now. Don’t overthink things.”

”Okay, go get some rest.”

The call disconnected. The dial tone beeped twice in the living room before silence returned.

The rain outside pattered against the outdoor air conditioning unit, splashing water.

Yu Xian tossed his phone aside and leaned back on the sofa, thinking.

Hypersomnia.

If Wen Xiao’s summary was correct, this was indeed a very subtle commonality.

There are many causes for hypersomnia. You can be sleepy when you’re sick, when you’re trying to escape reality, or when you’re on medication. This probably wasn’t the reason the families thought the deceased had been ”replaced” or had ”changed.”

With such an obvious external characteristic like the ”smile,” no one would focus on the victims’ sleep schedules.

If he hadn’t just learned about the TDI project, he wouldn’t have considered hypersomnia a key point either.

Besides, there was a huge logical flaw in all of this.

If TDI was the cause of everything, then why was there absolutely no trace of the project in Wen Yu’s file, or even on the police’s radar?

With modern criminal investigation methods, forensic analysis of a person’s phone is the first step.

Browsing history, chat logs, lists of installed apps, background data—anything done on the phone, even if deleted, should be mostly recoverable.

The only exception was something completely illogical, like how all information related to Xia Li had vanished.

If some software or website had caused such a serious mass-death event, no matter how well it was hidden, it couldn’t possibly leave no trace at all.