Chapter 8
Chapter 8
[Welcome to our product. Scanning initiated. Please wait.]
[Scan complete. Confirmed Citizen ID: SH13*313, Name: Feng Bu Jue. Device: NL2055 Standard Solo Gaming Pod. No abnormal external hardware detected. Cardiopulmonary functions within normal range. Neural Connection Program ready. Please select Access Type.]
[Access Type set to Non-Sleep Mode. Adjustment complete. Confirm Load Game or return to previous menu.]
[Program launching. Load Game will begin in ten seconds...]
As the countdown finished, Feng Bu Jue slipped into the game world. He stood inside an elevator-like chamber, though no floor buttons lined the door. A 32-inch touchscreen occupied the right wall, while the entire wall opposite the door functioned as a full-length mirror reflecting his image from head to toe.
He studied his reflection—an ultra-high-definition 3D CG avatar. His outfit had changed into a black long-sleeve shirt and matching pants, plain and unremarkable. The facial features mirrored his real-life appearance: slightly under six feet tall, messy hair, delicate facial contours bordering on effeminate.
Supported by Fourth-Generation Light Brain technology, Neural-Linked Games provided near-authentic sensory experiences, though visuals remained constrained to computer-generated imagery rather than photorealistic environments.
[Welcome to the game login space. Below are all games provided by Meng Corporation. Please select a title.]
The system voice sounded again as icons materialized on the nearby touchscreen.
"There's only one option", Feng Bu Jue mused, "yet they created this elaborate login space. Are they hinting at future releases?" His finger tapped the sole visible title—Terrifying Paradise.
[Players must be over sixteen years old. Meng Corporation strongly advises against participation for users with heart conditions, mental illnesses, or relevant medical histories.]
The warning message appeared on-screen, followed by the system's vocal repetition. Three new icons appeared: "Confirm Login", "Cancel", and a prominently placed link labeled "View Full Disclaimer."
"Mental illness, huh?" he muttered, selecting the third option. The screen immediately filled with dense legal text. The scrollbar on the right revealed an exceptionally lengthy document.
Most players would either skip such agreements outright or scroll mindlessly to the "Accept" button. But Feng Bu Jue wasn't most people.
At twenty-four, he worked as a mystery novelist—though he often cheekily labeled himself an "artist" or "literary giant" when asked. His true anomaly lay elsewhere.
He'd come to play not for entertainment, but for a different kind of treatment. Two months prior, he'd suddenly lost the ability to feel fear. No horror movie or novel could stir even a flicker of dread. Brain scans revealed an ominous shadow near his amygdala, though no hospital could diagnose it. The condition remained stable—neither worsening nor disappearing. Frustrated, he'd abandoned treatment.
When Terrifying Paradise's beta advertisement claimed to "immerse players in relentless terror", he saw hope. Perhaps this hyper-immersive experience might reignite his dormant fear response. A desperate gamble, certainly—playing a horror game to cure a neurological condition.
But his medical mystery wasn't his only peculiarity. Even before the tumor, he'd possessed strange compulsions. Chief among them—Reading Compulsion.
He devoured text obsessively: shampoo bottle labels, appliance manuals, clothing tags—anything holding potential information. His mind instinctively collected data related to anything affecting him, retaining at least 60% of details indefinitely. Not quite photographic memory, but formidable nonetheless.
"Hmm. Standard disclaimer wording", he remarked two minutes later, having finished the entire document. "Except for paragraph six..." He cradled his elbow, fingers sliding down his face—a habitual thinking posture. "They'll claim zero liability for deaths caused by heart issues or mental breakdowns. Typical corporate evasion."
System prompts interrupted his analysis. [This is your first login. Please enter an in-game nickname.]
Restrictions appeared: minimum four characters, no profanity. Fourth-Generation Light Brains enforced censorship rigorously. The AI could infer context beyond simple keyword filters, rendering traditional anti-censorship tactics like "Fuc#K" obsolete.
[Confirmed nickname: Mad Bu Jue. Proceed?]
He'd chosen "Mad" deliberately—a phonetic twist on his real surname "Feng", masking his identity while adding self-deprecating flair.
[New Player Tutorial initiating. This randomly generated scenario grants an Initial Reward upon completion. Tutorial outcomes do not affect base character attributes. Should connection terminate due to high Terror Value, manual disconnection, or pod exit, subsequent logins will generate new tutorial content.]
As confirmation registered, the elevator plunged into darkness. A voice replaced the mechanical system tone—cracked, ancient, and unmistakably female.
"Welcome to Terrifying Paradise..."
The chamber lurched violently before beginning a slow, unlit descent.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
