Evolution - Chapter 5
Chapter 5
Panting, Ji Changqing opened the game pod and climbed out. She let out a surprised “Huh?” She had expected to be sore all over, like after any intense exercise, but she wasn’t?
There was a slight ache, but it was much milder than she’d anticipated. She did some stretches on the spot. Though her limbs felt a little weak, they didn’t really hurt. A grin spread across her face.
Although she’d had her suspicions, she hadn’t noticed any real change after just one day. She went straight to shower and change. Afterward, feeling like she had finally come back to life, she remembered the task of repeating the first movement of the first exercise thirty times. She decided to strike while the iron was hot and stubbornly began to put her “old bones” through the wringer in reality.
She cautiously divided the thirty repetitions into ten sets of three. Slowly recalling the instructor’s standard form, she let her body’s muscle memory guide her through the movements. By the third repetition, she was panting for breath and silently gave herself a thumbs-up in her mind.
She really knew her own limits. Definitely deserved a thumbs-up!
After doing it a few more times, she started to get the hang of it. If her form was standard, it wasn't as strenuous. When her form was off, it felt like carrying a heavy stone on her back—unsteady, exhausting, and stiff.
After several more sets, Ji Changqing, who was beginning to grasp the essentials of the movement, pushed through the immense physical exertion and continued to sweat, completing the final two sets. When she was done, she collapsed on the spot, gasping for air and savoring the exhilarating feeling that followed the workout.
She rested for a good while. Once she felt some of her strength return, she slowly got to her feet, grabbed a dry towel to wipe her sweat, and picked up her phone. Ugh, thirty repetitions had actually taken an hour and a half. This pathetic pace was enough to make a person weep. She opened her WeChat group to see what sort of tragedies everyone else had endured.
Quickly skimming the previous messages, she fell into a deep state of self-doubt: was there anything normal about this game? It didn’t seem very friendly to anyone.
Zhong Lan said she was about to become a recluse from all the mining. After entering the starter village, she was taken to mine. She was given a shovel and a hammer and taught mining techniques. She felt like Lanxiang Vocational School was her true alma mater.
Qian Jing had to haul giant building blocks from a huge pile and fit them into their corresponding spots within a time limit. If she didn’t finish in time, she would be crushed by an enlarged block.
It was as if the game were saying, I'm so disappointed you didn't meet my requirements in time. I must crush you and watch you tumble to console myself.
Lin Huang's task was to whack 100 gophers a day. If she was too slow and missed, then after the time was up, she would be ganged up on and beaten by all the gophers she had hit, with no spot on her body left untouched.
A special kind of tit for tat.
Xue Hong… well, Xue Hong's game was harder to describe. She was playing with flying needles. She had to stick all the needles into a small, rotating, moving ball within a time limit, without them overlapping or touching any needles already on the ball. If she failed, she'd be given a masaji with a nail board.
In short, Ji Changqing was fighting, Zhong Lan was mining, Qian Jing was playing with blocks, Lin Huang was whacking gophers, and Xue Hong was learning to be Dongfang Bubai…
The five of them, who had initially held some romantic notions about the game, all found the experience incredibly hard to put into words. Wait, isn't this supposed to be a game? Were we automatically assigned to be life-skill players or something? Are we just playing house?
No one was discussing whether an alien civilization had discovered Earth anymore. Even the appearance of aliens couldn't save this cursed gaming experience!
People were already posting tearful complaints on the game forums, accusing this heartless holographic game in words of blood and tears of trampling on their innocent hearts.
Where was the plot? The guides? The equipment? There were no level-up notifications, no class prompts… nothing. Everyone was just fumbling along, taking it one step at a time.
The official response was exceptionally aloof: “The game holds infinite possibilities. Players are to explore and trigger them on their own.”
If it weren't for the "holographic" gimmick, and if the holographic sensation weren't so incredible—completely immersive, with an unprecedented sense of reality where sight, hearing, smell, touch, and taste were all perfectly replicated—the only consolation while being tortured by the game was the beautiful scenery and delicious food. Eating like crazy without gaining weight—what a comforting and wonderful thing!
What was even more terrifying was a post from a high school student, a tearful complaint about being forced to grind through the “Five-Three” in the game. No leaving until you finished, no leaving until your accuracy met the standard. It was a mandatory prize, truly a tale that made listeners grieve and onlookers weep.
Those who had been indignant about their own misfortunes instantly forgot their painful experiences upon seeing this real-life tragedy of being forced to do the “Five-Three” in a game. All they could do was laugh. With a more miserable case to compare to, their own problems seemed trivial. You never knew what kind of ridiculous encounter you'd have next, which was actually quite interesting.
While trembling at the crappy game experience, they were also full of anticipation: I just want to know what other ridiculous designs they can come up with.
Everyone couldn't help but marvel at how good the holographic game's marketing was. Without that three-minute high from the first login, who the hell would be interested in what came next? They would have just quit. Why would they need to force themselves to be consoled with, I'll just see how ridiculous it can get?!
Thanks to the large number of masochists who were both terrified and expectant, as the online complaints grew more intense, more and more people entered the game, all stubbornly persevering.
Though none of them knew what surprise easter egg awaited them at the end.
Curiosity, it seemed, was truly the ladder of human progress.
And so, a group of adults, like ignorant toddlers, hesitated, wondered, and slowly explored this bizarre game world.
Three days later, Ji Changqing, now proficient at taking down one small friend—er, no, one small animal—with a single stick, was successfully assigned to another hunting party in the village along with another player. Their targets had now evolved from rabbits and pheasants to larger, more aggressive animals like foxes, raccoon dogs, and hyenas.
A month passed in real time, which was three months in the game. After Ji Changqing and the other player—Pencil—worked together to take down a tiger with their sticks, the hunting party leader called it a day early and brought the two of them before the village chief.
“Oh, young ones. You barely possess the strength to pass through the forest together.” The village chief's dissatisfied expression was all too obvious. He let out a long sigh and issued them a pass. “The forest is full of dangers, but also opportunities. This pass is proof of permission to enter the city after you cross the forest. You two may take this pass, go through the forest, and see the wider world. I wish you well.” Perhaps out of disdain for their strength, or perhaps out of concern for their safety and a desire to keep them alive, he added, “You are the first to receive a pass this year. Hmm, your numbers are a bit small. How about this: I can make an exception for you. You may stay in the village for another seven days to see if more people will be joining you. However, you will be responsible for your own food and lodging for these seven days, and in addition to completing your designated tasks, you will need to pay an extra fee for your extended stay.”
Ji Changqing and Pencil exchanged a look, both understanding the other's decision: they would leave as soon as possible. Dying in the holographic game was a very unpleasant experience; it left one feeling drained both mentally and physically for a long time. Traveling through the forest as a duo was certainly riskier, but everything that had happened so far was practically screaming that an alien civilization had discovered Earth. It was a higher-level civilization that seemed friendly for now, but who knew what the future held? When everyone on the planet was forced onto the same starting line, how could they so easily give up the first-mover advantage they had fought so hard to gain?
There was another thing. Ji Changqing shrewdly discovered that Pencil was a soldier. An active-duty soldier playing a game every day? What kind of joke was that? He was obviously here on orders. Following Pencil was probably the right move. After all, what backer was more powerful than the state?
Pencil didn't seem to mind that others had figured out his real-life identity, nor did he pay much attention to the friendly overtures from other players. He was a firm believer that might makes right, but he was willing to befriend those of similar strength. Ji Changqing had earned his respect with her fists—well, with her skill.
Only three of them had arrived in this starter village in the first batch. The third person had been left in the dust by the two of them during the second trial. Many more had arrived since then, and a few had shown considerable promise. However, in the starter village, all communication and social tools were locked. At most, people became familiar faces and knew each other's names, but there was no way to add friends.
Since they had decided to leave the next day, the village chief, with a look of feigned regret but genuine relief, unlocked new functions for them: team communication and a storage grid. Team communication allowed them to talk at any time after forming a party, and the storage grid had a capacity of about three cubic meters. He said with a faint smile, “Hmm, you may each choose one weapon. As for other supplies, you will need to trade with others for them yourselves.”
Ji Changqing and Pencil were both people of action—one by professional habit, the other by occupational training. Neither suffered from decision paralysis. In less than a minute, they had made their choices. Pencil was first, picking a military spike. Ji Changqing, without hesitation, chose a long, slender dagger. It was a foot long and no more than half an inch at its widest. It felt heavy and well-balanced in her hand.
Looking at each other's chosen weapons, both of them silently thought, How vicious, completely failing to see the irony in their own choice.
Preparing supplies for crossing the forest was, of course, not something they could do individually. With their limited storage space, they had to coordinate. They also had to consider what to do if they got separated and couldn't regroup quickly. They made a list, split it in half, and went their separate ways to prepare, planning to redistribute everything before they set out.
Pencil quickly ran off to get ready.
Ji Changqing stood for a moment with her hands in her pockets, then casually headed in the direction of their stick-fighting instructor. Well, she might as well go and see if she could get any advice from the local expert. Compared to them, who were completely in the dark and knew very little about this place, wouldn't these instructors—the stick-fighting masters, the hunting party leaders, and their members—know the tricks of the trade?
Right, these "instructors," while they couldn't offer too much help, seemed to have a simple mandate: teach them, make sure they could hunt, and keep them from dying. But now that they had their passes and were about to leave, they were no longer "students." Weren't they something like semi-colleagues? So, lending a hand to a future colleague, offering a tiny bit of help, that was just a trivial matter, right?
When the two met up again that evening to review their preparations, it came as no surprise that they had both gathered far more than what was on their original lists. It seemed they had both found outside help, received strong support, and revised their lists accordingly.
What surprised Pencil the most was that Ji Changqing had somehow managed to modify her weapon! Everyone had the same stick, so how had hers transformed into a spear? This was absolute discrimination! The modified spear was incredibly formidable. Even with his limited expertise, Pencil could tell that the shaft of her spear was the standard-issue stick, likely modified through some forging technique. It was fitted with a spearhead unlike any he had seen before, glinting like cold stars. The craftsmanship was clearly superb, and the material looked excellent. Its lethality would definitely overpower his military spike.
He looked at the military spike in his hand, then at the spear in Ji Changqing's, and felt a little wronged. He'd been completely outshone.
Ji Changqing rolled her eyes. “Got it on credit. They're all out.” When strength is lacking, gear makes up for it. With this spear she got on credit, she was now on equal footing with Pencil, a teammate of comparable strength. Neither could look down on the other.
“On credit?” Pencil was shocked. Such a thing was possible? But why were they all out? He… he wanted to get one on credit too.
“I bet my future on it,” Ji Changqing replied profoundly. It wasn't actually that dramatic. She had simply made a promise: in the future, she would grant one request, as long as it was within her power and didn't break the law. But there was no need to explain that so clearly.
This explanation effectively dampened Pencil's enthusiasm and soothed his sour-grape heart. Because he had no future to bet—or rather, his future belonged to the state. His hands were tied.
Having calmed down, the two of them meticulously checked each other's supplies. Based on their minuscule understanding of this game world, they really couldn't think of anything else they were missing. They went back to their respective quarters to rest and build up their energy for the early start tomorrow. This would likely be their last peaceful night's sleep. Once they entered the forest, they would have to travel and take turns resting. It was better to get some extra sleep now to make up for it.
Early the next morning, the two set off in silence. They cleverly tried to follow one of the village's morning hunting parties, but unfortunately, such opportunistic behavior was not allowed. The hunting party leader turned back, looking at them with amusement. “Your path is that way.”
Following us will only lead you further astray. It's completely counterproductive.
Her intention exposed and her effort wasted, Ji Changqing remained unfazed, thanking him with a natural expression. “Thank you.”
She shot a look back at Pencil: See? Didn't we just ask for the way?
Yes, this holographic game was just that devious. It meant what it said. When it said players had to explore and trigger things on their own, it gave absolutely no hints. They had received their passes and knew they had to cross the forest to get to the city, but they weren't even given a map or a direction, leaving the players to figure it out for themselves.
Pencil suppressed a laugh and silently gave her a thumbs-up.
Comments
Post a Comment