Chapter 104

Chapter 104: Kill Me

“The latest statistics show that over 203.6 million people have already fallen victim to the Dream Game—and that number grows by the hour. At first, it only targeted high-end devices, but now even old flip phones show traces of this app.”  

There had even been an attempt to cut off the entire federation’s internet for a full day. But aside from catastrophic economic losses across all sectors, it did nothing to stop the game’s spread.  

Another experiment involved having death row inmates play the game before sleep, while “Little Demon King” intercepted the abnormal brain waves—successfully preventing them from entering the dream.  

This method could save people, but it was merely a stopgap, not a solution.  

“Threat Level A.”  

Disasters capable of annihilating cities—or worse—were classified as A-rank.  

Officer Chen stared at the goji berries floating in his thermos, unperturbed.  

When it was just a serial murder case, he’d tear his hair out trying to catch the culprit. But when 200 million lives were on the line? He could sit back, sip tea, and watch calmly.  

Because this was way above his pay grade.  

“What does it look like from your perspective?” He turned to the figure in black beside him.  

The one formerly codenamed “Little Demon King” in the Supernatural Police Force—Okulet Lasvedo.  

“When that black robe appears on the battlefield, I know this fight isn’t mine to join.”  — MacArthur  

“Once he’s asleep, I can’t see the brainwaves anymore. But I do see… something stranger.” Okulet crouched beside the comatose inmate. “There’s a translucent layer around his head—like a soul.”  

It reminded him of that eccentric doctor his wife had once consulted. When asked if a person could be resurrected from bones alone, she spouted some philosophical nonsense about “the soul.”  

She claimed it existed in the human brain—a form of energy similar to, yet distinct from, brainwaves.  

“Do I have one?” Officer Chen asked.  

“You do. But unless I focus like a flea staring at a speck, it’s faint.” Okulet’s gaze shifted back to the inmate. “His soul is much more visible.”  

“What happens if you erase it?”  

“Brain death.”  

They’d already tested this on previous inmates. Whether or not they’d played the game, removing that energy always killed them. Okulet probably could’ve seen it before, but he’d never paid attention.  

A bullet to the head was fatal—why bother checking which side the heart was on? Same logic.  

“For now, let’s call it the soul.” Okulet said.  

Officer Chen gave him a “Are you serious?” look.  

In a century of scientific literature, the word “soul” had never appeared outside of poetry.  

“Just a label. Nothing supernatural about it.” Okulet pulled out his phone, expression unchanging. “Also, I’m going to try this game.”  

The authorities had already sent operatives into the Dream Game. But no one knew if they’d learned anything—higher-ups wouldn’t share intel with low-ranking officers like Officer Chen.  

Officer Chen didn’t try to stop him.  

The only reason he’d gotten involved at all?  

This game had targeted Gloria.  

Okulet launched the game. The visuals were nostalgic—reminiscent of the crude, pixelated interfaces of his childhood. It was hard to believe this was a multiplayer experience. No flashy graphics, just a subtly shifting color gradient in the background.  

Something slithered into his mind—an invasive presence. He could’ve purged it effortlessly, but this time, he let it linger.  

Unlike what Officer Chen had described, he felt no overwhelming urge to play. Still, he mechanically cleared the tutorial, then set his phone aside. Lying back, he propped his legs up and forced himself into a rapid sleep cycle.  

Success.  

The dream world unfolded—a near-perfect mimicry of reality, complete with real pain. Gone were the menus for logging out or adding friends.  

Though past forty and, in his daughter’s eyes, a “boring old man”, Okulet had spent his youth grinding through games to kill time. Adapting to this simplistic system took no effort.  

He blitzed through the tutorial and emerged into the open world, bypassing obvious treasure chests to head straight for crowded areas.  

“Boss… is that you?” A hand clapped his shoulder.  

Turning, he saw a face—and the game obligingly displayed the player’s info.  

A former subordinate from his Supernatural Police days. The man should’ve been stationed across the federation—days of flights away—yet here they stood, virtually shoulder-to-shoulder.  

“You’re back on duty?” The man’s first assumption, Okulet had returned to investigate the game.  

“No.” Okulet locked eyes with him. “Tell me the rules here.”  

No small talk. Just efficiency.  

“Right, so…”  

The ex-subordinate laid out everything he knew, emphasizing two ironclad laws:  

1. Never kill another player.  

2. Never let yourself be killed.  

If attacked, the safest option was suicide—using your own weapon to respawn. The game didn’t count self-inflicted deaths as player kills, though the excruciating pain deterred most.  

Okulet nodded, then led him to a secluded alley.  

“Kill me.”  

“???”  

“Kill me,” he repeated.  

“Boss, people die for real like this! My neighbor’s eldest—”  

“Try.”  

“But murder turns you red name! The Enforcers hunt you down, and…” He swallowed. “The Feds won’t even let me join the Enforcers because my level’s too low.”  

A polite refusal.  

Fine. He’d need a red name volunteer.  

Okulet scanned the streets. Not a single crimson-marked player in sight.  

Of course.  

Who’d be stupid enough to show their red name in public?  

————————  

BRRRRT—  

The minigun’s barrel spat blue flames, instantly evaporating the mobs Yiwen had weakened to a sliver of health. At least the game had some mercy—party members were immune to friendly fire.  

Mi Xiaoliu seemed to love this weapon. Even as its damage fell behind, she refused to switch.  

Lately, high-level official players had begun policing the game. Strange glitches flicker occasionally—signs of the Supernatural Police’s cyber-mages infiltrating the virtual network. But so far, their efforts seemed futile.  

The mastermind held 200 million hostages. No matter what, law enforcement was on the back foot. Orders from above: Grind levels. Maintain order.  

The current consensus? Avoid red names at all costs—or leave their elimination to the Enforcers, since normal players who killed red names would themselves turn red.  

Yiwen’s heart ached as she compared Mi Xiaoliu’s Level 46 to her own Level 27.  

Assists granted EXP, but this gap? Undeniable proof—she’d died again.  

This time, to a Mysterious Traveler in a dungeon—an NPC with a 0.1% spawn rate. It offered players a choice: a blue pill or a red pill. One might grant godly buffs (Think League’s URF mode), the other—instant death.  

The ultimate gamble. Since NPC kills weren’t permanent, Yiwen had confidently chosen red.  

Honestly? She’d have accepted bad RNG.  

What broke her was the NPC’s parting words:  

“The blue pill was lethal poison. The red pill? Same effect—just strawberry-flavored.”  

In her rage, she’d forgotten the title hovering above her head.  

Cue another respawn at the haystack. She snatched the village chief’s sword, stabbed him, shoved his grandson off a cliff, skewered the Cactus Beastman, then murdered the chief’s daughter in a later quest.  

Finally—a new title:  

[Demon Spawn]  

– NPCs despise you.  

– Monsters attack less.  

– 60% chance bosses bear your graffiti.  

– 5% chance treasure chests surrender.  

– 2% chance bosses abdicate their throne.  

Still better than the last one.  

With Mi Xiaoliu’s red name, they’d been grinding dungeons to avoid players. Running into colleagues would be messy—who knew if they’d listen to explanations?  

Yet, the moment they exited the dungeon—bad luck.  

A lone player. Level 10 trash. Any sane person would flee from a red named Level 50 powerhouse.  

But this lunatic’s eyes gleamed as he marched straight toward Mi Xiaoliu.  

“Kill me,” he demanded.  

“Okay,” said Mi Xiaoliu.  

Yiwen: “??”  

Who the hell said you could agree?!