Infinite World: Dangerous Game!

009

Phedra Henry awoke in a cramped space, quiet enough that he could hear his own heartbeat pounding and the sound of his heavy breathing.

His vision was pitch-black, so dark that he couldn’t even see his own fingers. He tried to move his arms and legs, and as soon as he lifted his arms, they struck what felt like partitions on either side of his head. The pillow he tried to fold up bumped into the ceiling above him.

The upper partition was very close, barely half an arm’s length from his face. When he moved, he hit the top wall—he felt like a sardine packed in a can. At 1m80, with long arms and legs, Phedra Henry could only stretch out, unable to bend his knees, making him extremely uncomfortable.

The partition he struck several times didn’t budge. When he switched to tapping with his hands, it only made a dull, muted sound.

Carefully feeling his surroundings, Phedra Henry realized he was likely lying in a wooden coffin. Judging by how little the partition moved and the difficulty in shifting it, it was probably buried underground. No matter how hard he struck it, nothing changed. Furthermore, the air felt stale and thin, suggesting the coffin had been buried for some time, and there wasn’t much oxygen left. Breathing became more and more difficult. That explained why he felt so suffocated the moment he woke up.

His head felt cloudy from the lack of oxygen, and now he remembered—he was in a game called [Infinite World: Purify Game].

He recalled that before losing consciousness, he and a girl named Amaya Yuki had been standing in a crowded hall. Now he was here alone, awake, and apparently buried alive. The coffin was underground. He guessed the first round had started.

If the game had begun, there had to be a time limit and a mission objective.

Phedra Henry immediately closed his mouth, breathed through his nose to conserve oxygen, and waited patiently.

Just as he expected, soon after regaining consciousness, a time frame and mission announcement appeared before his eyes.

[Mission: Survival.

Time: 30 minutes.

Your parents died in an accident, leaving you a huge fortune. You are being abused by your best friend, who covets this vast inheritance. He’s planning an elaborate murder. First, a close friend suggests you travel abroad for a while to relax. Then, he hires someone to follow you out of your hotel, d**g you, and bury you alive in an underground coffin. Your best friend will call and ask for your bank card password. If you tell him, your best friend gets the money and will let you go.]

A friendly hint for new players: Will you trust the crime to stop once your friend is satisfied?

The timer began to count down.

The light from the screen flashed across Phedra Henry’s face, reflecting in his deep black eyes.

Once the mission was announced, the mission screen immediately disappeared, leaving only a cold countdown in front of him, ticking away each second.

Phedra Henry noticed the system called this a rookie mission. In most games, rookie tasks are usually quite easy—meant only to help players get used to the game.

Perhaps the first round hadn’t really begun yet; this was just an initial challenge he had to complete to officially enter the game.

Phedra Henry placed his hand on the lid of the coffin—since he was still breathing, that meant he hadn’t been buried long, and the depth wasn’t excessive.

Survive for 30 minutes—did that mean he just needed to stay alive, rather than escape, before time ran out?

And even if he gave his best friend the bank password, there was no guarantee he’d actually be released. The person he’d trusted most, his so-called “best friend,” had gone so far as to bury him alive; perhaps that person hoped he would stay under the ground forever.

From the introduction, the system said a “close friend” suggested the trip, not that they traveled together. Phedra guessed his best friend wasn’t there. The plan was careful—his friend never left the country with him and instead hired someone else to do the dirty work. That way, if Phedra died abroad, the police would have no reason to suspect him.

Because the best friend was never present at the scene, even if the police investigated later, they couldn’t accuse or even investigate him.

Most importantly, Phedra Henry didn’t know the bank password for “the owner of this body.” Even if he wanted to give it, he couldn’t. The system had only shown the mission notice for a moment and then disappeared—there was no password.

In short, he couldn’t compromise with his best friend’s demands.

The mission notice had appeared only once, and Phedra Henry doubted he could pull it up again, or maybe he just didn’t know how.

All he could do was reflect on its contents and recall that the system mentioned a phone call from his best friend asking for the bank password. That meant there must be a phone in the coffin—maybe it held more clues.

Phedra Henry started groping around gently, conserving what little oxygen remained. After a while, he found a phone.

It was an old model, heavy and brick-like, covered in buttons with a tiny rectangular screen. These “brick” phones were popular worldwide at the end of the 20th and beginning of the 21st century—outdated and clunky compared to anything today.

By the 22nd century, hardly anyone used cell phones anymore. Since 2300, only wealthy antique collectors bothered with them.

Modern phones were designed as wearable rings with various coded patterns. Upon purchase, employees would synchronize the phone with a citizen’s ID chip to activate it. Whenever someone wanted to use their phone, they simply thought about it, and a 3D screen would appear before their eyes. Unlocking was as simple as raising the ring finger to scan the cornea. To protect privacy, only the owner of the phone could access its screen.

Fortunately, this brick phone had no password, but Phedra Henry had never used anything with so many buttons before. He fumbled for a while to figure it out.

He checked the message box and call log. Aside from the one incoming call mentioned earlier, there were no clues. It seemed this phone belonged to a “close friend,” with only two contacts, not the best friend.

The only item was the phone, which might hold clues, but it seemed completely ordinary—except for the contact number of the close friend. Now, what should he do next?