Infinite Weird Game

The heavy body leaped into the air. The soaring soul crashed to the ground. —Book One: Spirit and Flesh ... ... The smell of blood excites people. Qi Si pulled out the scalpel, took a deep breath, and let the rich, fresh smell of blood fill his lungs. He held a handkerchief and gently wiped away the bloodstains on the side of the blade, his gaze falling on the blood-stained corpse in front of him. It's been a long time since I've killed anyone, so I'm a bit rusty. Blood is everywhere, staining the studio floor. Of course, it's nothing. The security situation in federally administered areas is deteriorating, and cleaning up the mess isn't as difficult as one might imagine. Qi Si walked to the sink and rinsed his blood-stained hands under the tap. Without warning, an emotionless electronic voice rang out from the bottom of my mind: You have killed player "Liu Ajiu". You may choose whether to inherit his game privileges. Qi Si's hand trembled, and a few drops of pale pink water splashed out. ... Three hours ago, at 6 PM on March 9, 2035, in Jiangcheng. As usual, Qi Si stayed in his studio examining the collection. The studio is located in an abandoned warehouse in a secluded suburb, a place that would normally go unnoticed and unvisited. If all goes well, he can retrieve a beautiful corpse from the formalin, process it slowly using skinning or soaking methods, and enjoy this wonderful time undisturbed. But an accident still happened. Around 7:30, someone kicked open the warehouse door and rushed in. The man was travel-worn and shouted "Robbery!" He pulled a gun from his pocket and ordered Qiss to squat down in a harsh tone. Qi Si couldn't understand why anyone would be so audacious as to rob someone in this godforsaken suburb, and even more ingeniously choose a dilapidated warehouse. The most likely targets for robbery, where small change is found, are usually small shops and grocery stores in urban villages and outer streets. Even considering both risks and benefits, and wanting to reduce the chances of attracting the attention of the police, the best approach would be to ambush someone at the entrance of a middle school with a small knife. Ziss was therefore convinced that men were the kind of people he despised—fools who wasted natural resources and the time of rational beings, deserving to be chopped up and fed to pigs. [Note] However, after weighing the pros and cons, he still put on a panicked expression, raised his hands, and consciously and quickly squatted down against the wall. Qiss hates trouble more than rude fools. Shortly after celebrating his birthday on January 1st, he was diagnosed with a terminal illness called "weightlessness," and the doctor said he had no more than three years left to live. Compared to his peers who still have at least sixty years of prime time to squander, his time has instantly become twenty times more valuable, and every second wasted pains him deeply. The doctor looked at Zis with sympathy and said, "Your illness is an extremely rare case, with no more than ten confirmed cases worldwide. You can do what you want to do in your final days, or do something meaningful." Qi Si asked, "For example?" The doctor patiently explained, "You can cooperate with our treatment and research. If our research achieves a breakthrough with you, your name will be recorded in history." Qis asked again, "Has anyone been cured?" The doctor was very honest: "Of course not, otherwise why would it be called a 'terminal illness'?" "..." Qis refused the doctor's request for him to sign a body donation form, preferring to have his name on the list of perpetrators of major heinous crimes rather than be remembered in medical history. He planned to do things he wanted to do in the last three years of his life—things like making specimens, playing with people, or even killing someone—but definitely not confronting a stupid robber. So right now, all he wanted was for the man to take the money and get out of there quickly, so as not to waste the rest of his precious life. The man pressed the gun against Qis's head, muttering like a madman, "Sorry, I have no other choice... Tell me where the cash is!" Qi Si really wanted to complain: why are people still obsessed with robbing cash in 2035, as if electronic payments haven't become widespread? But the thought that he actually had banknotes stored up for underground transactions made him unable to laugh. He squinted and pointed to the back of the studio, saying, "Room 3, the corner by the drain, the brown leather suitcase." The man turned and ran toward the room he was directed to. Watching his retreating figure, Qi Si belatedly realized that there were some unusual collectibles in that room, the kind that would definitely scare someone into calling the police. Human remains, anatomical specimens, and some rather avant-garde grafting techniques... If a man sees those things and then leaves, things will likely become much more complicated. —Maybe we should just kill him outright, forget about luminol reagents and trace evidence, just chop him up and send him to Bob's pig farm… —Or perhaps he shouldn't have gone out today; the almanac clearly stated "avoid traveling," he should have at least believed it a little… Qi Si was caught in a dilemma when he heard a man's gasping coming from deep inside the studio, each gasp louder than the last, like the sound of a broken hairdryer that had been chipped. Qi Si stood up, casually pulled the warehouse door that had been kicked open shut, and struggled to tighten the deformed latch. He walked toward room number 3 and saw the man lying on the floor convulsing, seemingly having an asthma attack and on the verge of death. The onset of this illness was perfectly timed and sensible, almost absurd and humorous. Qi Si couldn't help but laugh out loud. He tilted his head and thought for a while, then kindly lifted the man's leg and threw him into the corner, positioning him in a sitting position to avoid dirtying a larger area of ​​the floor. "Medicine...medicine..." The other person stared blankly, struggling like a fish out of water, uttering weak moans, "In my pocket..." Qi Si bent down, reached into the man's trouser pocket, and pulled out what was inside— A small white bottle and a black metal card. Qi Si held the small bottle up to his eyes and began... to look for the production date. He stared at the man for five minutes, from the production date to the expiration date and then to the ingredient list. The man was still struggling stubbornly, his groans growing louder and louder, which was making people feel irritable. Qis knew that this damned guy wasn't going to be sensible enough to just die on his own. He sighed, threw the medicine bottle into the trash can by the wall, and turned to walk towards the tool shelf next to him. These days, dealing with corpses is getting more and more complicated. Quicklime, hydrogen peroxide, and hydrofluoric acid—none of them are easy to handle. But if someone really wanted to make things difficult for him, he wasn't without means. When he was twelve, he had nothing, yet he still killed someone without his parents finding out. "If you had died sooner, I might have been able to dump you whole at the police station entrance..." Qi Si lamented in a mournful tone, feeling saddened that he had to waste his limited time dealing with the body. Under the man's terrified gaze, he picked up a scalpel from the tool shelf, walked back to the corner step by step, and said something cryptic: "You forgot to wear shoe covers when you came in." The next second, he turned around and stabbed the man in the heart with the knife. ... You have killed player "Liu Ajiu". You may choose whether to inherit his game privileges. The cold, electronic voice sounded again, carrying a subtle urging tone. Qi Si raised an eyebrow and moved his gaze to observe his surroundings. The black metal card that had been pulled from the man's pocket rolled along the ground, its gold-plated pattern shimmering, and slowly floated to eye level with him. Seven large, silver-white characters were written on it— [A Mysterious Game Invitation] A bizarre game? What is this? Qi Si's gaze lingered on the unfamiliar words. As if sensing his question, the next second, countless non-narrative pieces of information flooded into his mind, bypassing the cognitive process. The eerie game is created by an entity called "Rules," which selects qualified players from around the world to enter dungeons filled with bizarre and strange tales, explore puzzles, and complete tasks. This is a deadly game filled with ghosts and monsters. If you fail a mission or die in a dungeon, your existence in the real world will be erased. But danger and opportunity go hand in hand. Players who successfully complete a dungeon can earn a large number of points; with enough points, any wish can be fulfilled. Are you willing to sign a contract, become a player, and enter this bizarre game? The electronic voice asked the question in a cold, impersonal tone. Qi Si lifted his eyelids slightly and casually asked, "Can you cure my illness?" He doesn't actually resist death. Although the taste of death is probably unpleasant, it can be an interesting life experience. But he didn't want to die from the illness at all. In contrast, he would prefer to die in a murder or an explosion, preferably in a dramatic way that would cause widespread panic. And now, it seems he has another option. In this bizarre game, you can obtain anything you desire: wealth, power, health... you name it. What you need to face and overcome is only the fear of the bizarre. The silvery-white text is incredibly seductive, like a devil on the trading table. Qi Si clicked his tongue lightly and asked in a lukewarm tone, "How many points do I need to cure my illness? How many dungeons do I need to enter?" [Sign a contract, and you will naturally find out when the time is right.] "I know very little about your so-called 'weird game.' May I make a decision in a few days?" Please make a decision within five minutes, otherwise you will be automatically considered to have forfeited your eligibility; you will have all memories related to the game erased and will never be selected as a player again. Emphasizing the uniqueness and timeliness of the opportunity is a typical pyramid scheme tactic, resembling a trap and a scam. But Qi Si felt that since he only had three years left to live, he couldn't lose out no matter what. Whether it's dying a gruesome death or a fate worse than death, any ending is better than dying of illness, which is utterly boring. Moreover, the existence of "survival games" and "horror dungeons" sounds very interesting! All the weighing was done in a second, and Qi Si replied with a smile, "I'm willing." [Contract signed, player information loaded] [Loading copy... Loading complete]