Chapter 17
Chapter 17
After finalizing their agreement, the two disbanded their party. Feng Bu Jue could still see Wang Tanzhi’s status on his friend list, which quickly changed from “Idle” to “In Game.” The system intentionally withheld specific mode details to protect player privacy.
Terrifying Paradise’s social features were limited to three categories: [Recent Players], [Friends], and [Blacklist]. Friend requests or blacklist additions couldn’t be processed mid-scenario; these actions were restricted to the login hub.
Rejecting others politely had always been a challenge in online interactions, and Dream Corp had invested heavily in solving this. While Gaming Pods offered virtual appearance adjustments (a feature Feng Bu Jue ignored, as he cared little for aesthetics), female players still received countless friend requests, even if their in-game “beauty” was questionable.
The “clinging to strong players” phenomenon was equally common. After scenarios ended, Feng Bu Jue often received multiple friend requests. This was understandable—teaming with proven players reduced difficulty, a natural choice for risk-averse gamers.
Whether driven by romantic interest, opportunism, or genuine friendship, rejection stung. Dream Corp’s solution was elegant: friend requests could only be sent in the login hub, keeping rejections private. By the time a scenario concluded, emotional fallout wouldn’t jeopardize gameplay.
Only friends could communicate via the login hub’s screen interface (video calls were disabled). Non-friends relied on emails, limited to three per recipient within 24 hours. Unreplied emails blocked further messages. Each email was censored for threats or harassment, with automated warnings prompting recipients to blacklist offenders.
Blacklisted players were fully blocked—no encounters, emails, or group invites. The system would alert users before joining a party containing blacklisted members. These measures minimized unwanted interactions, showcasing Dream Corp’s commitment to player comfort.
In practice, most players accepted rejections gracefully, moving on to the next game. Sending spiteful emails only earned a blacklist, and as the saying went, “Mountains and rivers may meet again.” Gaming wasn’t worth souring one’s mood.
Feng Bu Jue delayed starting a new game to check his status. His proficiency level remained at “Universal,” with five other skills—martial arts, shooting, mechanics, scouting, medicine—locked. Proficiencies governed skill acquisition and defined character strength. While he avoided brute-force playstyles, lacking proficiencies was risky. He aimed to unlock Mechanics or Scouting in upcoming scenarios, prioritizing survival over combat in this early phase.
Next, he inspected his satchel. The sketchbook vanished upon exiting the scenario, but the disposable syringe remained:
[Item: Disposable Syringe]
Type: Consumable
Quality: Common
Function: Extract or inject liquids
Note: Stay away from drugs, cherish life.
His satchel was nearly empty (the hub allowed storing up to 30 items), so he kept the syringe. It beat using stones as tools.
Assessing his situation—no gear, no skills—this solo mode would be tough. Failing to progress before level 5 would compound difficulties, as training modes closed and scenarios scaled harder. He couldn’t afford to become deadweight.
He welcomed the next scenario’s terror, so long as rewards matched the danger.
[Mad Bu Jue, Level 4]
Select your game mode.
You’ve chosen Singleplayer Survival Mode (Common). Confirm?
Confirmed. Generating scenario…
Loading. Please wait.
Expecting the usual elevator sequence, he was surprised when the screen darkened. Weightless and adrift, he heard the familiar greeting—this time in a middle-aged woman’s voice. The system’s tone shifted randomly, but its message stayed the same: “Welcome to Terrifying Paradise.”
[Loading complete. You are entering Singleplayer Survival Mode (Common).]
[Scenario summary available. May include side/hidden quests or unique worldviews.]
[Scenario Clearance Reward: Randomly select one learnable Skill Card.]
[Scenario summary will now play. Game starts immediately afterward.]
The darkness faded to reveal a photo—a dimly lit warehouse corner. Metal walls, concrete floor, no furniture. The camera angle obscured its size. Subtitles appeared as the system narrated:
“You are Arthur Sieger, a renowned photojournalist with a loving family and a prestigious career. One Christmas night, you awaken in an abandoned warehouse. The last thing you remember: retrieving your car from the parking lot…”
The summary ended abruptly. Feng Bu Jue blinked as white light engulfed him, teleporting him into the scene.
He sat slumped against a wall, disoriented, until a metallic clink in his left hand caught his attention—a silver Walkman.
An obsolete 2055 relic, it resembled a prop from an old movie. He pressed play. A raspy male voice crackled in English:
“Hello, Arthur. Let’s play a game…”
Feng Bu Jue froze. The game’s tone was clear now.
(End of Chapter)
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