Chapter 1398
Doomsday Wonderland Chapter 1398: Long Live RPG!
Chapter 1398: Long Live RPG!
Lin Sanjiu never expected such a prolonged rest period after exiting the game.
Over the past few days, dozens of posthumans who had cleared other games streamed into the room. Despite being only the second underground floor in this area, nearly a hundred experienced individuals had endured almost 14 months and were well-versed in game dynamics. Upon finding a game-free s.p.a.ce, they promptly chose spots to rest and recuperate.
“After a few games, there’s usually a rest period, typically around ten days,” a girl Lin Sanjiu had asked earlier explained. “The frequency of games varies. From my experience, it depends on individual circ.u.mstances. Even after a streak of easy games, there’s no guarantee of a break. But sometimes, after a particularly tough game, we get to rest.”
“Thank you.” Lin Sanjiu nodded gratefully at her. She found it easier to connect with other women, seeking them out for information. “Have you ever managed to prevent a new game from launching?”
The slender girl snorted. “I’ve never even seen a hint of it, let alone any clues. I don’t think anyone has succeeded in stopping them. It’s probably just an excuse to keep us playing these games.”
After thanking her and giving her some supplies as a token of appreciation, Lin Sanjiu moved on.
She wasn’t alone in her quest for information. While the veterans remained composed among the influx of newcomers, it was the newly initiated posthumans who often asked about the game designers.
Occasionally, someone proudly admitted to designing a game, but only when they felt safe from retaliation. Lin Sanjiu wondered what she would do if she ever found the creator of the Elephant in the Room game, though violence during rest periods was strictly prohibited.
During these ten days, they didn’t have to worry about stumbling into pocket dimensions, clas.h.i.+ng with other posthumans, or being hunted by duoluozhong or other creatures. Everything felt relaxed and secure.
Except for Ji Shanqing’s deteriorating condition.
Not only did the rest period help him minimally, being separated from his main body for so long visibly drained his energy and health. He slept longer each day, sometimes appearing to faint rather than just sleep. Tasks that used to be effortless for him, like coding something, now required hours of exhausting effort.
Under these circ.u.mstances, bringing Han Suiping and Nu Yue back to the human world seemed increasingly impossible.
Reluctantly, Lin Sanjiu broached the topic.
“Is there a way you can return sooner?” she asked during one of their bedtime chats. “If you wait to teleport with me… I’m worried it might be too late.” Originally, The grand prize’s plan was to return to the Data Stream Library via a visa, but unforeseen events had delayed him, distancing him further from the Data Stream Library.
They had been in this world for just over half a month. It seemed unlikely that Ji Shanqing could endure another year, and perhaps he shouldn’t even try. If there truly existed beings like the Veda in this world, it was safer for him to stay away. Lin Sanjiu vividly recalled the intense curiosity the Veda had shown upon discovering him.
The grand prize remained silent for a long time.
“I’ve thought about it. Following someone who’s about to teleport might be a way,” Lin Sanjiu said with a sigh. “I can ask around tomorrow to see if anyone is leaving and doesn’t have a visa… and you can follow them.”
“Okay,” he replied softly.
Perhaps the topic was too sensitive. She inquired for the next two or three days without any luck. Silvan had it even worse. The so-called trophies he brought back were all dazed girls who, regardless of what he asked, would only reply with “Yes, okay.” Seeing this while she was so concerned about the grand prize made her angry.
Since he couldn’t return for now, the best course of action was to minimize the grand prize’s consumption. Lin Sanjiu told him to sleep as much as he could and not to create even a speck of dust. If she could, she’d wish to wrap him in cloth, bundle him up, and place him in her card inventory.
As the rest period neared its tenth day, brief instructions began to appear on the walls.
“Those who have rested for ten full days, please choose a door to exit this room.”
The subdued conversations among the half-lying, half-sitting posthumans gradually quieted down after this announcement. One by one, they stood up, drawing everyone’s attention.
Each door in the room had been opened by the posthumans who had just completed the game. It seemed that they only needed to push the door inward to leave the rest area and step into the next game—though each door might lead to a different challenge.
Lin Sanjiu chose a door near the center of the room. Glancing back as she reached the entrance, she saw Silvan and Ji Shanqing beside her, accompanied by two other posthumans who had grown more familiar over the past few days. Like young fans meeting their idol at an airport, these two were flushed with excitement upon realizing that Silvan from the Munitions Factory was in their game.
Meanwhile, Louisa and Horst stood a few steps away, appearing indecisive between two doors.
“We… want to check that one out,” Louisa said, pointing to a distant door and giving Lin Sanjiu a smile. “Maybe we’ll meet again in another game.”
“Take care then.”
In the past ten days, the influence of the Elephant Game had rapidly diminished. But because that experience now seemed so surreal, Louisa and Horst were even less inclined to continue traveling with Lin Sanjiu. It wasn’t resentment towards her but rather deep remorse they harbored towards themselves.
From this perspective, neither of them were bad people.
Parting remained inevitable. After a mutual nod of acknowledgment, each group opened their chosen door and stepped into the rooms beyond.
Inside, they were greeted by large characters on the wall instructing them to locate and prevent a new game launch within an hour. As Lin Sanjiu had been told earlier, this directive seemed more like an excuse to perpetuate their game experiences. The room, no larger than a living room, besides the entrance and an immovable elevator, revealed itself entirely at a glance. Where could this new game be launching from? How could they stop it?
After an idle hour pa.s.sed, another volunteer, tightly wrapped from head to toe, walked in.
“Oh, a volunteer this time!” whispered the enthusiastic fangirl who had recently joined.
“What’s unusual about that?” Lin Sanjiu inquired. Wasn’t there always a volunteer before every game?
Perhaps inspired by her idol’s presence, the girl became the most patient and gentle human on the planet. “Although the game never explicitly states it, I’ve noticed that games with volunteers tend to be more challenging. For simpler and quicker games, volunteers aren’t necessary. I suspect their role is to properly usher players into the game.”
With this revelation, the Blue Wall Watchers game indeed began without a volunteer. Could this game rival the intensity of the Elephant in the Room?
Just as Lin Sanjiu had a sinking feeling, the newly arrived volunteer gestured, apparently catching wind of their conversation.
“Please, everyone, don’t worry,” he rea.s.sured them in a seemingly altered voice, sounding as unrecognizable as the previous one. “This game is fairly relaxed. I’m just here to guide you. Please follow me.”
“What kind of game is it?” asked the young man trailing closely behind Silvan.
The volunteer stepped towards the elevator and pressed the b.u.t.ton to ascend, grinning. “Technically, I shouldn’t reveal too much, but a small hint won’t hurt. It’s a role-playing game.”