Chapter 202: Introducing Each Other
[Once lit using specialized candlelight, the lamp can summon a fierce ghost.]
[As for the diary, you can try writing your own entries inside it.]
Having blurted out these explanations with deep impatience, the pixelated ghost face turned completely black, initiating the settlement directly.
Furthermore, it handled the settlement with thorough, blatant apathy.
[Your clearance evaluation for this run is S.]
[Congratulations on discovering a new instance and exploring key locations! As a reward, you will receive one spin on the Grand Prize Wheel, with a chance to obtain rare S-rank items or skills. Rest assured, as the player who uncovered the most clues, your wheel spin definitely won’t yield “Thank You for Playing.”]
[Additionally, the new instance will take roughly seven days to generate, at which point you will receive a notification. Seeing as you are the discoverer of the new instance, your next run will be directly updated to this new instance.]
[Alright, settlement concluded! Would you like to launch the Grand Prize Wheel spin right now?]
Bai Cha knitted her brows tightly.
“Can’t this wheel spin be exchanged directly for a specific item reward?”
[That’s a no-can-do, sweetie~]
The pixelated ghost face abruptly put on a beaming smile once more.
Likely sensing Bai Cha’s deep aversion.
Bai Cha indeed felt an intense aversion toward prize draws.
She held absolute confidence in her own luck.
Safe to say, she had encountered no shortage of prize draws growing up, yet she hadn’t won a single time.
The so-called reward for discovering a new instance was actually just a gamble of chance?
“Forget it, spin it.”
Wasting it would be a waste anyway.
A massive prize wheel materialized out of thin air right before her eyes, packed densely with well over a thousand prize slots.
[Sweetie, as you can see, our slots are distributed exceedingly evenly! So there’s no need to worry about us making things intentionally difficult for you. If you’re ready to begin, simply turn the crank in the center of the wheel.]
Bai Cha complied.
The wheel set about spinning at blistering speed.
Then, after Bai Cha took a step back, the wheel gradually decelerated, turning slower and slower.
Bai Cha watched with wide eyes as the pointer swept past S-rank items to A-rank items, backed into S-rank items again, and then retreated one more slot—settling squarely on the F-rank item: A Salty Fish from 1982.
She stared in total silence as the wheel vanished into thin air, leaving behind only a salted fish that stank so horribly the entire settlement interface ceased to feel clean.
The salted fish was rock-hard as well, landing on the floor with a crisp, loud clack.
It genuinely stank to high heaven.
Bai Cha couldn’t help holding her breath; taking another whiff or two, she might actually throw up on the spot.
The pixelated ghost face burst into a fit of wild, booming laughter, zipping back and forth across the entire settlement interface.
The gloating, schadenfreude undertone couldn’t be more glaringly obvious.
[Congratulations on drawing the F-rank item: A Salty Fish from 1982! Its function is simply being stinky—exceptionally, outrageously stinky! Of course, if you wish to wield it as a melee weapon, that works as well. I’m confident very few could ever approach you, making it quite a fine self-defense weapon!]
At this point, the description turned vastly detailed.
With a completely blank expression, Bai Cha crouched down, using her fingers to pinch the salted fish up and stow it directly into her backpack.
Say what you will, it was still something drawn from a prize spin.
Much like the game claimed, as long as she didn’t find it repulsive, this salted fish wasn’t entirely useless.
[Does sweetie have any other questions?]
The pixelated ghost face leaned close over to her.
“Explain the functions of those two items to me in detail,” Bai Cha said frostily.
[Understood, sweetie! Transporting you to the Game Lobby now~]
Bai Cha: “…”
Damn game.
This time, she refrained from lingering in the Game Lobby, exiting the game straight away.
She had entered the game while at the company office, and she held no idea what situation awaited her upon returning to reality.
The moment she returned to reality, she felt someone gently tapping her shoulder.
“Little Bai?”
It was the voice of Team Leader Xiao-Wu.
Bai Cha raised her head, a trace of daze lingering on her face while her eyes swiftly surveyed her surroundings—excellent, still inside the company, and time seemingly hadn’t progressed much at all.
“How did you fall asleep? Are you too exhausted? Work hours have started, and the supervisor will be coming over in a bit, so don’t sleep for now.”
Bai Cha nodded, offering an embarrassed smile before casting a glance at the time displayed on her computer screen.
Roughly twenty minutes had passed.
She looked thoughtful.
She had spent nearly two full days inside the game, whereas a mere twenty minutes had elapsed outside.
Viewed this way, it didn’t seem like much.
Truth be told, however, entering the game during daytime hours still exerted a massive impact on reality.
Suppose her next run required a significantly longer stay inside the game—wouldn’t she be left slumped over her desk, asleep for an extended period?
If those around her failed to wake her up, they would end up sending her straight to the hospital.
Having only joined the workforce for a brief while, having incidents happen every other day would be problematic.
Even if Shen Qingchen understood her circumstances, so what?
Gossip and backbiting inside the company were inevitable.
If others ostracized her behind her back, what could Shen Qingchen possibly do about it?
It was as if the game were driving people step by step away from reality.
Entering a new social circle to interact with others? No matter—simply make it impossible for players to integrate into the collective whole.
Bai Cha set about working.
Work was undeniably dull and monotonous.
She wasn’t particularly fond of socializing to begin with.
A state like this induced a subtle illusion within her as well.
The frequency at which she entered instances was exceedingly high—so high that after many days passed inside an instance, exiting revealed time remained frozen on the very day she entered, creating a profound sense of detachment from reality.
She loathed the game—she simply loathed being manipulated and controlled.
She was a person possessing a strong desire for control; at the very least, her own life ought to remain under her personal command.
Yet the sensation of having one’s entire destiny toyed with by the game was truly atrocious.
As for the experiences within the game instances, she actually held zero aversion toward them.
That thrilling, extraordinary lifestyle brought a wealth of things worth looking forward to into her otherwise mundane life.
After work, Bai Cha watered the pot of morning glories as per usual.
The morning glories had shown zero signs of sprouting all along.
After all, there was no telling how old that seed was.
Bai Cha crouched before the flowerpot, staring down at the soil inside.
Come to think of it, morning glories belonged to the Convolvulaceae family, and dodder plants belonged to the Convolvulaceae family as well.
There was no telling whether this seed was connected to her father or her mother.
And what did that have to do with her?
If both of them were players, had her mother’s past disappearance been a result of becoming lost within an instance as well?
Yet how should her father’s car accident be accounted for, then?
After a moment’s thought, Bai Cha pulled Xiao Xiao and Wen Xing into a single group chat.
Bai Peach Oolong Tea: Big Sisters, may I ask if you know what happens if a player dies in reality?
Wen Xing: …
In truth, ever since adding her as a friend in the game, Wen Xing had known Bai Cha was lying to her from start to finish—even her name was a complete fake.
Yet because she had noticed it right from the beginning, she hadn’t paid it much mind.
Now, suddenly being pulled into a group chat where the other person was clearly a player as well, her brows knitted together in an instant.
Bai Peach Oolong Tea: @Wen Xing, what’s wrong, Big Sister? Is my question far too foolish?
Wen Xing: …
Wen Xing: When a player dies in reality, they’re dead. Simple as that.
Bai Cha looked thoughtful.
Xiao Xiao: I’ve heard a rumor that players who die in reality are gathered by the game into instances to serve as NPCs, though.
Wen Xing: That claim exists, but I’ve personally never seen it happen.
Xiao Xiao: @Bai Peach Oolong Tea, in any case, death doesn’t equate to liberation, so don’t do anything foolish.
Wen Xing: Pfft, what foolish thing could she possibly do? She’s sharper than anyone!
Bai Peach Oolong Tea: Hee-hee, thank you for the compliment, Sister Xing-xing! By the way, allow me to introduce the two Big Sisters to each other! @Wen Xing, this is the tsundere, kind-hearted Big Sister. @Xiao Xiao, this is also a kind-hearted Big Sister with tsundere traits—you two definitely share common ground!
Wen Xing and Xiao Xiao: …
Sorry, we don’t!
And why on earth are you so obsessed with collecting tsundere types?!
Bai Peach Oolong Tea: One more question: if a female player becomes pregnant, can she skip entering the game?
