Game designers must have read too many novels.

It was as if spring sunshine had burst forth in an instant, dispelling the surrounding gloom and shadows, along with the spectral figures that had revealed themselves. The old mansion suddenly felt inexplicably empty. Chen Sheng glanced around, unsettled by the abrupt solitude. Then, footsteps echoed in the hall.

He saw a group of people entering from outside. Some glanced at him, but most paid little attention, their focus absorbed by their phones and cameras as they eagerly filmed their surroundings.

“This is the former residence of Xu Qingqian, a renowned opera master from the last century. You’re free to explore for fifteen minutes, after which we’ll head to the next tourist site,” announced a man who appeared to be the guide.

“Got it.”

“Alright.”

Scattered responses echoed from the group.

Chen Sheng watched them for a while, then headed toward the door and stepped outside.

Before him stretched a street rich with ancient charm. At its far end, he saw modern buildings—familiar, though not quite the skyscrapers and ubiquitous traffic lights he was used to. There were no towering structures, nor streetlights or signals everywhere.

Walking down the old-fashioned street, a flicker of amazement crossed Chen Sheng’s face.

“So this is what the world of this healing game looks like?” he mused. “In that case, the so-called former residence must have been just an appetizer—a starter dungeon, meant to let newcomers get familiar with their beginner gear?”

Chen Sheng speculated, his heart stirring with anticipation.

That starter dungeon had nearly trapped him. Only the game’s plot allowed the “newcomer” to leave, enabling his escape. Now, Chen Sheng felt the urge to challenge himself further.

He wasn’t a fervent fan of such games, but at times, he acted on impulse.

“The former residence probably counts as an urban legend in this game, right? I wonder if there are other similar places.”

“According to typical game mechanics, these urban legends are likely designed to help players get acquainted with the world. Surely the game’s developers have established a ranking system for them? I wonder where I might find such a list.”

Chen Sheng pondered this carefully, then noticed something odd.

He’d been playing for quite a while—shouldn’t the anti-addiction timer have kicked him out by now? Why hadn’t he been booted from the game?

“It can’t be that the little girl who was underage yesterday suddenly turned eighteen today, can it?” Chen Sheng rubbed his chin and shook his head. He remembered she was far from her eighteenth birthday.

He soon dismissed these trivial thoughts. For Chen Sheng, they were unimportant now. What mattered was how he would continue to play.

Since no game prompt had appeared so far, it was clear that this healing game offered total freedom for exploration.

This left Chen Sheng feeling somewhat out of place.

In the past, he’d only played games like marionettes, following prompts step by step. Even when he encountered difficulties, a quick online search would yield solutions—no need to think.

This was his first encounter with a game of such open-ended freedom, and he couldn’t help but feel uneasy.

Still, unease didn’t mean he couldn’t play. He immersed himself in the game’s backdrop, surveyed his surroundings, and decided to find a job, aiming to secure a place to settle.

He had barely taken a few steps when an old police car pulled up beside him. A young officer hopped out, his face alight with excitement. He patted Chen Sheng’s shoulder, saying, “Ah Chen, you made it! Come on, I’ll take you to report at the police bureau.”

Chen Sheng: ???

Why did it feel like punching into a pillow?

Moments later, Chen Sheng realized his earlier worries had been pointless—the game had already assigned him an identity.

He was to be a junior officer at the Sanjiang City Police Bureau.

Apparently, to avoid suspicion or perhaps to build a unique world system, the game had abandoned the term “policeman”—everyone was simply called “officer.”

The ranking system was crude: trainee officer, junior officer, intermediate officer, senior officer, and finally, bureau chief.

Chen Sheng’s assigned role was that of a trainee officer.

Yet, despite being a trainee, his background was complete, and he seemed to possess a protagonist’s aura.

According to Yan Shidong—the young officer who’d come to fetch him—Chen Sheng had already passed his trainee assessment, but he’d offended someone and was transferred to Sanjiang City as a result.

This meant his trainee period had been indefinitely extended.

It wasn’t that the Sanjiang City Police Bureau lacked the authority for assessments—it was simply that Sanjiang City was rife with bizarre rumors every year.

Civilian casualty rates were much higher than in other cities.

Whenever a case involving civilian casualties occurred, it could directly cause a trainee officer to fail their assessment.

Chen Sheng didn’t even know how to complain about such a setup.

It was all too familiar—the opening to ninety out of a hundred urban fantasy novels: the protagonist’s identity mirrored his own.

“Game designers must have read too many novels...” Chen Sheng muttered as he examined himself in the mirror, now dressed in a trainee officer’s uniform.

He had to admit, the game’s attention to detail was exquisite—even the reflection in the mirror was crystal clear!

“Ah Chen, could you cover my night shift? I have to go out—my mother arranged a blind date for me,” Yan Shidong entered, looking apologetic.

“No problem!” Chen Sheng agreed immediately. For him, this was his first upgrade quest as a trainee officer.

Night shift at the police bureau!

Anywhere else, a night shift might be nothing, but here?

This was Sanjiang City—plagued by disasters!

So, as he expected, as long as he took tonight’s shift, something was bound to happen. More precisely, he’d encounter something uncanny!

“Thanks, Ah Chen! I’ll order you some late-night snacks!” Yan Shidong beamed and hurried off.

Chen Sheng began wandering the police bureau, preparing to familiarize himself with the place.

Night fell swiftly, and soon, Chen Sheng was alone in the bureau.