Chapter 101
by Need_More_SleepChapter 101: Let’s Kill Her
For the Nth time, Yiwen awoke in a haystack.
“Why…?”
It wasn’t that she didn’t understand why she’d re-entered the dream. The Federation still hadn’t devised a solution for this unprecedented phenomenon—especially since it involved an LV5 ability user.
Unsurprisingly, LV4 users were already rare enough, let alone LV5s. The Federation had more than just the “Little Demon King” at that level, but none possessed abilities relevant to this situation. Sending an LV5 physical enhancer to deal with it would be pointless.
What she didn’t understand was why, despite being so careful, she’d died again. The memory from her last death lingered—waking in the haystack meant she’d failed once more.
This time, she’d fallen asleep during class. Each trip into the dream left her more lucid than the last.
The current scenario was a mission: Investigate the Mountain Incident.
A horror-themed quest. As a girl, Yiwen was naturally uneasy about supernatural terrors—especially in a game world where such things were real.
And not just visually. This was full immersion. Ghosts could get right in her face. Touch her.
Worse, the entity known as the “Mountain Incident” specifically targeted women. And her profile? Female.
Oh, and in a rare nod to realism, the game didn’t allow clothing removal. Player avatars were pulled directly from Federation biometric databases.
At this point, the Federation didn’t just track facial recognition—they updated height, body type, and even maintained 3D models in their systems.
During the mission, Yiwen had encountered the monster almost immediately. She and an NPC took refuge in a temple when suddenly—knocking. Then Mi Xiaoliu’s voice, trembling with fear.
Even though screwing over friends was half the fun of multiplayer games, Yiwen couldn’t bring herself to ignore it. Especially since death here was permanent.
Just as she moved to open the door, the NPC stopped her with a “Shh.”
A chilling realization, in horror stories, opening the door was suicide. Worse, she hadn’t teamed up with Mi Xiaoliu this time.
Then—
NPC: “Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!”
Turned out the “Shh” was a charging animation.
Yiwen burned to death.
All because of her [-90% NPC Friendliness] title.
It wasn’t that she wanted to be a menace. The game’s NPCs just really encouraged village massacres.
This time, she was even more lucid—no longer feeling forced to follow the game’s script. For the first time, she considered trying her real-world abilities here.
She attempted levitation.
Failed.
Sigh…
If powers worked here, someone would’ve cracked this game already.
Just get through the story and reach the open world.
Kicking open the door, she’d lost count of how many times she’d done this, even knowing the optimal angle for best “foot feel”.
She followed Mi Xiaoliu’s past advice, listening patiently to the village elder’s rambling without leaving.
A hidden quest triggered.
She helped the old man find his delinquent grandson.
And earned a new title before even reaching the Cactus Beastman arc—
[Pretentious Trash]: All your actions are seen as performative. NPCs will glare with contempt. 30% chance of being spat on.
“……”
So much for her heroic streak.
Yiwen seriously wondered if this whole nightmare was orchestrated by a real-life enemy.
After skewering the Cactus Beastman and replacing the title with [Spit On You, Scum], she finally reached the open world.
And there, at the first crossroads—Mi Xiaoliu.
Swinging quietly, waiting.
“Sorry to keep you waiting… Xiaoliu, were you here the whole time last time?”
Fast-travel points had a 6-hour cooldown, so Yiwen hadn’t been able to check back.
But Mi Xiaoliu’s level hadn’t budged.
“Mmm.” A nod.
“I’m sorry…” Guilt twisted in her chest.
“Mmm.” Not a hint of anger.
No resentment at all. Willing to wait here again.
It made Yiwen feel like utter garbage. She’d probably slap herself mid-dungeon later just remembering this.
“Let’s pick a different meeting spot next time.”
“Okay.”
Now, the thrill of adventure was gone. The priority was escaping this game and unmasking whoever was behind it. There were no developer promises of release upon completion—no guarantee any “players” were even real.
Worth noting, despite wearing the headphones, Mi Xiaoliu still retained no dream memories. Only Sasha’s relentless narration clued her in. What even was the point of those things?
Mi Xiaoliu poked Yiwen’s side.
“Hmm?”
A notebook was pressed into her hands.
The game’s guidebook—available at every central plaza’s Adventurer’s Guild, though 90% of players ignored it.
Yiwen had read it before. Nothing special—just lore and mechanics.
But this time, flipping through the physical copy felt… different.
She spotted a previously unseen section:
WARNING:
1. Death = infinite respawns. But killed by another player? You die in reality. No memories carry over. No means of memory extraction. No fear of murder exposure.
2. Safe zones revoked. Player combat is enabled everywhere.
3. Linger > 20 mins in tutorial = instant deletion.
4. Real-world abilities disabled.
5. No IRL cash spent on spawn points? You’ll revive near network-associated players.
6. Encounter someone linked to you (Friends, past matches, ETC.)? Their info auto-displays, prioritized at the top.
“……”
This was bad.
Now Yiwen understood.
This game encouraged player slaughter.
Forced real-world confrontations.
No wonder Mi Xiaoliu, and certain others’ info popped up automatically. Aside from Mi Xiaoliu, everyone else was someone who’d harassed her online.
“Xiaoliu, let’s grind dungeons. Now.” She nudged her forward.
Staying in PvE zones meant avoiding other players.
But just beyond town, in what should’ve been a low-traffic area—
“Jingyin? You’re Jingyin?”
The worst-case scenario.
A stranger. And they knew her name.
“Let’s go.” Yiwen grabbed Xiaoliu and turned away without a glance.
“Wait.” The woman—dyed blonde, slightly pudgy, with thick in-game makeup—blocked their path.
Her info forced itself into Yiwen’s vision:
Jenny Majian · You Bin Yi Yang
Level: LV38
Gender: Female
……
Related Content (Auto-Sorted):
– Comment on Jingyin’s Stream: “Fake much? Same path 10x—think we don’t notice your act? 😅”
– Comment 2: “‘Disabled’ my ass. You can fly but ‘miss’ the hospital? Blind and stupid? 😅”
– Comment 3: “How many beauty filters are you using?”
– Bilibili Video (ID: Butterfly Girl): “Streamer ignores medical emergencies one block from hospital. Calls an ambulance then plays phone games? Proof Jingyin fakes everything!”
– Bilibili Video 2: “Jingyin—GET OFF THE INTERNET!”
– Followers Gained: +27,869 (From hate campaigns against her.)
– QQ Group Chat 1: “Found Jingyin’s home address: ××××. Verified. Spread it—DON’T STOP.”
– QQ Group Chat 2: “Went to her door last night to scare her lol.”
– QQ Group Chat 3: “Don’t bother. She moved.”
“……”
Yiwen didn’t want to see this.
“Don’t walk away! I just have one question.” Jenny spread her legs, blocking the path. “Why the disguise? No guilt for almost killing someone? Do you know how trash you are?”
Most people, even if they’d bullied someone online, wouldn’t confront them face-to-face. IRL, they’d still pretend to be human.
But the world had all kinds.
With 2 billion in the Federation, of course you’d meet absolute scum.
And in this game, where past conflicts auto-displayed.
Jenny had already seen Yiwen’s info.
The hierarchy was clear: LV38 > Yiwen’s level.
Jenny was justice. The crowd supported her.
How dare this pariah show her face?
“I didn’t hurt anyone,” Yiwen said.
“Watch my exposé videos. Anytime you want to PK.” Jenny smirked.
More fans awaited.
“Let’s go… We have dungeons.” Yiwen nudged Mi Xiaoliu, voice hollow.
Jenny didn’t follow. She’d already “won” the encounter. Without an audience, further harassment wouldn’t boost her clout.
She hated that this game lacked recording—what a waste of Jingyin’s pitiful expression.
Faking victimhood after nearly killing someone? Disgusting.
And that male disguise? Extra disgusting.
Mi Xiaoliu glanced at Yiwen’s slumped shoulders, then at the woman who’d caused it.
“Hit her?” She pulled out her staff.
When Wei Shi was upset, he hit her.
“No. Thanks.” Yiwen guided her away, voice wavering.
She knew Mi Xiaoliu’s absurdly overpowered staff could crush someone 20+ levels higher.
But her oath as a Federal Officer forbade it.
And she’d never ask a friend to do it for her.
“Yiwen wants to cry.” Mi Xiaoliu touched her cheek, stating a fact.
“No. I’m not that weak.” Yiwen forced her avatar to smile.
A lie. In the real world, she would’ve cried.
This hurt way more than a laser sword to the gut.
Cyberbullying—cruel words flung from behind screens, etched permanently into the internet. Revisited with every accidental scroll.
Remote attacks with zero consequences. They didn’t know the truth. Hadn’t even watched the original clips. Just bandwagoned onto the hate.
And if proven wrong? They wouldn’t care.
Her explanations were worthless.
This woman wasn’t the first.
Wouldn’t be the last.
So lucky this wasn’t real life. Otherwise, Yiwen might’ve actually punched her.
Mi Xiaoliu shook her head. “Let’s kill her.”
She knew, only extreme pain made people cry.
In her own memories, that’s how it had been.
Yiwen froze. Those words—from Mi Xiaoliu?
She gripped Mi Xiaoliu’s shoulders, staring dead serious into her eyes. “Listen. We can’t treat this as just a game. If you kill someone here—”
“You little brat! Who the hell did you say you’d kill?!”
Yiwen’s words were cut off by the shrill shriek from behind them, the grating scrape of a sword dragging against the ground piercing the air.
At this distance, their “conspiracy” might as well have been a public announcement.
“Ugly brat, say that again—who are you killing?!” The woman blocked their path once more, one hand lunging for Mi Xiaoliu’s throat while the other yanked her sword free. “Think you’re cool? Look like a fucking dick. Playing hero for your girlfriend? Go ahead—try hitting me!”
“Mmm.”
Without hesitation, Mi Xiaoliu swung her cane straight into the woman’s skull.
The impact—realistic pain simulation—shattered her from head to toe.
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