Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1383: Entering the Game World

Despite not wasting even half a second, the hour seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. When the last second on the television screen finally reached zero, a line of white letters leaped before everyone’s eyes.

“Time is up, obstruction failed. The 129th new game launch conference is about to begin.”

Everyone’s foreheads glistened with a thin layer of sweat in the living room. The heavy panting of someone who hadn’t yet adjusted was audible in the room. Everyone had been busy turning the entire town upside down in the past hour. However, aside from themselves, they didn’t find a single living person, let alone anything about a new game launch conference. If they were supposed to search outside the town, the map was almost infinite, and one hour was not enough.

Staring at the white letters, Lin Sanjiu asked softly, “Han Suiping, do you sense any signals?”

One of Han Suiping’s arms had long turned into a blackish-green claw. Upon hearing the question, he closed his eyes briefly before shaking his head. “No… The text seems directly called out by some kind of force field through color. It doesn’t involve signal transmission.”

Lin Sanjiu nodded; she hadn’t held much hope in the first place.

The words on the screen changed to, “The 129th game will start in ten minutes. Players within the message radiation range, please proceed immediately to the elevator at the town’s billboard at the town entrance to attend the next game at the venue located on the first underground floor.”

Elevator?

She looked around to find everyone frowning. They had all seen the billboard with the town’s name on it, situated at the highway entrance, which they had seen several times during their search but never noticed an elevator.

Even after the announcement appeared, the ground under the highway billboard was still empty, not looking like there was an elevator at all. Just as everyone looked at each other in confusion, a low friction sound of metal and stone came from the road ahead. After the road surface slowly split apart, another layer of metal plate was revealed underneath, gradually opening up to reveal a square hole. As everyone gathered around and peered in, they discovered a huge elevator cabin with number buttons and a display screen.

Ji Shanqing was the first to jump in; he looked around and then turned to Lin Sanjiu. “This doesn’t look like something that appeared after doomsday. Look, there are manufacturer names and quality inspection dates in the corner. It should have been built by the human society here, but I don’t know what it’s used for.”

“The space is indeed large,” Lin Sanjiu said, looking around. All eight of them were standing in the elevator, and there was still plenty of space left in the cabin.

“The notice told us to go to the first underground floor, right?” Louisa asked.

The elevator panel had 9 floor numbers and a brightly lit “G” button. Unlike the usual Ground floor, the G floor they were currently on was the highest surface level. Lin Sanjiu pressed the button several times and found that only the next level down could be highlighted. Shortly after the overhead door panel closed, the elevator began to descend gradually.

Although it was only one level deep, they unexpectedly stayed in the elevator for four to five minutes, not knowing whether it was because the elevator was too slow or because the depth of descent was astounding. When it finally stabilized, the elevator doors opened.

A man wearing a black top hat and a white mask stood motionless outside the elevator door, his arms crossed in front of his chest as if he had been waiting for a long time. He was completely covered from head to toe, with no piece of skin or hair visible.

“Welcome to the first underground floor,” said a buzzy and flat voice emanating from the circular white mask. There was no hint of a welcoming tone. “Please don’t be nervous. I am a volunteer of this level, here to help you adapt to entering this game world.”

“He’s not a duoluozhong… He’s a posthuman,” Silvan said softly, frowning.

The man in the white mask nodded, looked toward Silvan, and immediately stumbled back as if startled. His voice finally became more human when he said, “Oh, are you… from the Munitions Factory?”

Silvan didn’t reply. Recognizing Silvan meant that this man was not only from the Twelve Worlds but also clear-headed and had free will. Could it be that posthumans coming to this world could indeed voluntarily become volunteers?

The masked volunteer, who seemed unwilling to talk more, grumbled a few words, wiped his hands on his pants, and regained his composure. “First of all, congratulations on passing the test of the surface level in a state of ignorance and entering this game world.” He said these words as if he had repeated them countless times, and as he did so, he stepped aside from the elevator door, revealing a large, empty gray room behind him. “This is where the new game launch conference will be watched. It’s my job to explain the rules of this world to you. Come on, follow me.”

This underground space was at least 100 square meters in size. The ceiling, floor, and four walls were smoothly plastered with grey cement. A projector hung from the ceiling, projecting the words “please wait” on one of the walls. The masked volunteer led everyone into the center of the room, took out a remote control, and pressed it, immediately changing the screen on the wall.

“Counting the surface as the highest level, this world has a total of 10 levels,” the volunteer explained, and a diagram was displayed on the wall. “Each area has several underground elevators that can reach the underground floors. Please note that only the surface, the fifth level, and the tenth level are interconnected, and you can freely change areas; the underground spaces on other levels are all independent.”

The diagram on the wall displayed something like a cross-section of an ant’s underground nest. From the diagram, it seemed that the area where Lin Sanjiu and others were located covered hundreds of square kilometers, obviously more than just that small town; the individual underground floors of each division were much smaller in area.

“Why would such a construction exist?” Horst asked.

“It involves the cause of this world’s doomsday,” replied the masked volunteer, changing the content on the wall. “A long time ago, in a prosperous, peaceful, and balanced human society, a small portion of people began to engage in real-life games as boredom spread.”

Images of green cartoon people appeared on the projection, some turning yellow.

“This small group would set their own rules, establish venues, provide conditions, and carry out large-scale games in real life. It is said that to make the games possible, they would even go bankrupt. The participants, initially those in the know and invited, gradually included the unsuspecting general public. For some reason, many who participated in these real-life games would, after the games ended, start to actively create their own games. And the more dangerous the game, the more appealing it became.”

As the explanation continued, the green cartoon figures turned yellow one by one, and the yellow cartoon people gradually expanded.

What initially seemed like a harmless form of entertainment soon developed into a problem that society could no longer ignore due to the snowballing number of participants. They discovered that the desire to play real-life games was a symptom of a permanent functional disorder in certain parts of the brain, and normal brains could also exhibit similar symptoms after specific experiences. Although not a virus, it was still referred to as the ‘game virus’ for the ease of public understanding of its contagious nature. It caused societal operations to become inefficient, not to mention the security and economic issues arising from the diverse content of the games.

“Couldn’t the military and government agencies stop it?” Han Suiping asked.

The masked volunteer pressed a button on the remote control. Two groups of yellow cartoon people appeared on the wall, each holding guns, seemingly battling each other. “I was just getting to that. The military units sent to suppress certain large-scale games ended up infected and initiated their own massive war games, resulting in tens of thousands of civilian casualties nearby.”

“So, these underground facilities are a means of self-preservation?” Lin Sanjiu said, began to understand.

“Exactly. Since they didn’t know why these symptoms appeared or how to prevent or treat them, they couldn’t afford the consequences of the game virus spreading. For instance, small-scale games requiring just a few people, enough for a family, resulted in cases where only one person in a family survived. The government quickly built these large underground facilities to relocate the normal population. With the exception of necessary connections, each area was isolated from the others, preventing the spread of the game virus in case of an underground incident.”

Clearly, the plan did not succeed, leading the world to its current state.

Pointing to a new projection on the wall, the masked volunteer said, “Perhaps due to the Matthew effect, the world seemingly ended before these facilities were fully operational and put to use.”

“So, every posthuman that comes to this world has to keep playing games just as the residents used to?” Ji Shanqing said. “We’re not looking to create games.”

The masked volunteer nodded then sighed. “That means you won’t turn into a duoluozhong. However, not being infected doesn’t mean you won’t create games. Here, after every game, some posthumans are randomly assigned to launch new games. In other words, every game you participate in is designed by other posthumans.”

In other words, stopping the game launch meant preventing other posthumans from launching new games.

“What about punishment?” Ji Shanqing said, asking the most critical question. “What happens if we don’t cooperate?”

“When it’s your turn, nothing will happen if you don’t set up a game. You’ll just be pulled into other people’s games next time,” the masked volunteer said indifferently. “You might say, wouldn’t it be better if everyone didn’t set up games? But that’s almost impossible. Because whoever sets up a game can be exempt from the obligation to participate in the next game and receive some of the supplies they requested as rewards. Everyone has to survive without any accidents for 14 months, and the fewer games you participate in during these 14 months, the higher your chances of survival. If you don’t set up a game, others will, so in the end, everyone hopes they can set it up themselves. If possible, they would even scramble for this opportunity.”

‘This is… what’s known as the prisoner’s dilemma, isn’t it?’ Lin Sanjiu thought.

Silvan suddenly turned to look at the volunteer. “This round of the game is about to start, and you’re just a volunteer here, not looking like you’re going to participate in the game. So, you’ve set up games before, haven’t you? Being a volunteer seems to be what happens after you’re exempt from the game, right?”

The masked volunteer reached up to touch his neck, hidden by his collar.

“You’re indeed very quick-witted. I apologize. I indeed designed the Blue Wall Watcher.”