Chapter 100

Chapter 100: Standing Someone Up

At the Police Station. 

“People have already died because of this game.” Officer Chen’s voice was heavy.  

“From exhaustion?” That was the only possibility Yiwen could think of. These days, if she didn’t sleep at least fourteen hours, she’d doze off instantly.  

Officer Chen shook his head. “No. Brainwave attacks. It’s like they used their own brainwaves to kill themselves… On top of that, we’ve detected abnormal electromagnetic waves that can’t be intercepted by normal means.”  

“So this guy’s ability controls electricity and EM waves?”  

“Or it’s just a byproduct of his power.” Officer Chen sighed. “No federal esper with relevant abilities has managed to crack it yet. As absurd as it sounds, we’re dealing with an internet troll who somehow gained LV5-tier powers.”  

They’d assumed he’d just flaunt his abilities online—not unleash something this catastrophic.  

But that was how the world worked. Powerful espers didn’t necessarily have the mindset of a master—or the ambitions of a supervillain.  

“You’re sure it’s him?” Yiwen frowned.  

“About half the victims were people who argued with him online. One kept insulting him even after being doxxed and banned.” Officer Chen’s expression was flat.  

“Half? Who else did he kill?”  

“All kinds. So far, the death toll over two days has reached six thousand. Aside from all dying in their sleep, there’s no other pattern. Any negative media coverage about the game gets instantly scrubbed.”  

This was a disaster. In the information age, what spread faster than the internet?  

Now, they were reduced to shouting warnings through megaphones on the streets—like they’d regressed a hundred years, back before the meteor fell.  

“What about hypnosis? Erase or suppress memories related to the game.”  

Was this some kind of Death-13 situation?  

“Tried. Didn’t work.” Officer Chen rubbed his temples. “According to federal investigators, this dream functions like an app—hosted on a physical server. When people sleep, their consciousness connects to it, and their in-dream memories are stored there like game data.”  

“So that’s the lead?”  

“Yes. Problem is, no federal esper has the power to trace that server.” Officer Chen exhaled. “Even with warnings circulating, new players keep diving in daily.”  

Out of rebellion? A thrill-seeking death wish? Who knows.  

“You can head home early today. Even criminals are too sleep-deprived to cause trouble.”  

Not that it stopped people from storming the station, demanding solutions so they could sleep safely again.  

The same people who trash-talked the police daily now had no one else to turn to.  

————-

At home, Toby was again trying to reinstall the game. 

Yiwen’s headache spiked.  

She smacked his forehead. “Are you stupid? Haven’t you seen what’s happening to players?”  

“People who play it get to ‘legally’ sleep in class!” Toby rubbed his head, sulking. “Heard you can keep playing in your dreams too.”  

Even if no one remembered the details.  

“People are DYING because of it! Didn’t you hear the megaphone announcements?”  

Toby shrank back. “That thing’s echo was so bad, who could understand—”  

Glaring, Yiwen confiscated his laptop, ready to password-lock it.  

Upstairs, she spotted Raven lurking outside her room, hastily stuffing a small box into her pocket.  

“Xiaoliu,” Raven called, feigning nonchalance as she knocked on the adjacent door, “your mom asked me to tutor you.”  

No reply. Mi Xiaoliu must’ve gone out—rare, since she usually only played with Yiwen.  

(Heli hadn’t called, of course. She was currently infiltrating the Fallen City labs—no time for check-ins.)  

Yiwen eyed her mother suspiciously before inspecting her room.  

No signs of intrusion—she’d secretly replaced the lock.  

“You…” Raven stiffened but stepped inside. “Any progress from the police?”  

Lately, she’d seemed more invested than Yiwen—even dropping her objections to the psychic police gig.  

“Soon.” Yiwen brushed her off.  

“A client said he was ‘gaming in his dream.’ Is that true?”  

If you died in-game, did you die for real? Was that why the megaphones warned about fatalities?  

“No. Even if dreams had games, how would they build a multiplayer system?” Yiwen scoffed. With no dream memories, she answered decisively.  

“Hmm.” Raven left without another word.  

She stared at the game icon on her phone—still unopened.  

It’d just cause more trouble.  

———————

Too drowsy to wait for dinner, Yiwen set an alarm and crashed. She’d tested it—this unnatural sleep could still be interrupted, though not easily.  

Opening her eyes, she found herself not in the starter village but where she’d last “logged off,” with her level and gear intact.  

No sign of Mi Xiaoliu. She was probably waiting in the first post-tutorial town—their agreed meetup spot.  

Teleporting there, Yiwen found the square empty. Must not be asleep yet.  

Normally, Mi Xiaoliu turned in early, but with everyone exhausted, her schedule had shifted. Plus, she had homework after dinner.  

Yiwen waited.  

Occasionally, players passed by, glancing at her. Their info boxes kept auto-popping in her vision—annoying, but ignorable. They’d forget upon waking anyway.  

Even the loudest keyboard warriors rarely confronted her “offline.”  

Internet tough guys.  

Though if they could livestream harassing her for clout, some might’ve tried—just like before.  

But after forty minutes of standing there like a spectacle, Yiwen had enough.  

I didn’t do anything wrong. Why am I being publicly shamed?  

Sorry, Mi Xiaoliu…  

She teleported away.  

—  

Meanwhile, Wei Shi had summoned Mi Xiaoliu to a diner.  

Small, bustling restaurants were perfect for shady talks—yelling over the noise made everything seem innocuous.  

“You played that game?” Wei Shi’s glare could’ve melted steel.  

“Mmm.” Mi Xiaoliu struggled to pick up peanuts with chopsticks.  

Even with muscle memory, her utensil skills capped at a seven-year-old’s level.  

No wonder Toby thought she was an idiot.

“Are you out of your damn mind? Instead of studying properly, you’re wasting time playing games?” 

Wei Shi smacked the table in irritation, then shoved a spoon at Mi Xiaoliu, forcing her to use it.  

“I’m sorry.” Mi Xiaoliu lowered her head in apology.  

If she didn’t apologize, Wei Shi would hit her.  

“What’s wrong? Not so tough now when we’re face-to-face, huh?” He rummaged through his pocket and tossed what looked like a headphone a at her. “Wear this when you sleep at night. If I find out you didn’t, I’ll beat you up.”

With that, he settled the bill and left, letting Mi Xiaoliu sit there to eat at her own pace.  

Back home, Mi Xiaoliu followed Wei Shi’s advice and put on headphones before sleeping—yet she still slipped into the dream world.  

She teleported to the agreed-upon spot and sat quietly on a rock, arms wrapped around her knees as she waited for Yiwen.  

But no matter how long she waited, Yiwen never came.