Chapter Forty-Seven: Battle

If Chen Hao could witness the scene before him at this moment, he would be utterly astonished. In his imagination, the leader of this other race should also have been a GM. Yet now, that same leader had vanished in an inexplicable way. Even in the original virtual reality game, there was no precedent for a character dying like this.

Whether player or NPC, upon death they would normally leave a corpse lying on the ground. If not revived by a healing class, the body would eventually be cleared away by the system after some time. Although Chen Hao had never seen what happened when a GM died in the original game, he assumed that if a GM could die, it would be no different from the death of any other NPC or player.

But this bizarre manner of death—or rather, disappearance—was utterly unheard of. The female human GM, however, was unmoved by the event. She simply cast her gaze in the direction where Chen Hao was making his escape. “He runs fast... In just a short time, he’s almost reached the edge of the rift.

Hmm... According to the normal stamina settings, he should have run out of energy for sprinting by now, shouldn’t he?”

The “sprint” the GM referred to was a basic skill in the virtual reality game. Players had to actively trigger the sprint state, which would dramatically increase their movement speed—five times their normal walking speed. However, because it was a skill, it had to be activated intentionally, and it consumed the player’s stamina attribute while active.

As players’ stamina decreased, their characters’ state would also change: gasping for breath, unsteady running, and so on. These settings were intentionally designed by the company to enhance realism. All players started with about the same low amount of stamina, which would gradually increase as they leveled up and upgraded their gear. Melee classes, especially tanks, tended to have higher stamina, while non-tanks and ranged classes had relatively less.

The difference in stamina affected not just running time, but also how much weight a character could carry. Someone like Chen Hao, who had no equipment at all, should have had very little stamina.

Yet not only was Chen Hao carrying Vivian while running, he hadn’t stopped sprinting for a moment and showed not the slightest sign of fatigue. It looked as if he could keep running for a whole day without trouble.

Now, it was the human GM’s turn to be surprised. “It seems there’s a lot to investigate about him! But... I didn’t expect him to be Chen Hao! I almost didn’t recognize him—he’s gotten even more handsome! Though it seems he didn’t recognize me...”

She laughed softly. “Well, that just makes it all the more interesting, doesn’t it? Let me have a little fun with him and that adorable program before anyone else notices. Chen Hao, you’d better thank me! I just took out a test program for your sake!”

Her cryptic mutterings didn’t last long. Once finished, she gave chase in the direction of Chen Hao’s escape. Her movements appeared leisurely, almost as if she were strolling, yet in just a few moments she covered a great distance—it was reminiscent of the legendary lightness skills in martial arts novels, where a single step spanned a dozen yards.

The distance Chen Hao had managed to gain after running desperately for half a day was closed in mere moments by the GM’s movement. Chen Hao stared at her, dumbfounded, then simply stopped running and set Vivian down from his arms.

“Huh?” Vivian was puzzled as well. Why had Chen Hao suddenly put her down? To be honest, even though their situation was dire, she didn’t feel particularly afraid. Somehow, being with Chen Hao gave her an immense sense of security.

This feeling was incredibly strange. For Vivian, who had only recently awakened to self-awareness, most human emotions were still unfamiliar. She was like a newborn child, full of curiosity and confusion about the world.

The only thing that set Vivian apart from an ordinary child was that at her birth—or rather, her creation—she was endowed with a basic worldview and a set of values.

Vivian had not been born from a mother’s womb and grown up gradually like a normal human. When she was created, she was already as she appeared now, her mind furnished with the most basic consciousness, memories, and knowledge.

She knew who her parents were, understood the state of the world, and possessed some fundamental survival skills. But none of these things had been learned by herself; instead, they had simply been implanted in her mind.

Apart from that original information, Vivian was still in the process of learning about many things—including the experience of emotions, which she was only beginning to explore.

She knew who her parents were and understood that she should feel close to them. Yet, after awakening self-awareness, she had never truly experienced such emotions. In her foundational memory settings, her parents had already left her before she awakened, heading with the other elves to lands beyond the forest.

So in reality, Vivian had never spent any time with her parents; everything she knew of them was merely programmed memory. For a program, perhaps there was no essential difference between implanted and acquired memory, but Vivian could sense a subtle distinction between the two.

Though she knew she was supposed to feel closest to her parents, for some reason, she felt even greater joy and intimacy when she was with Chen Hao—an intimacy that surpassed her feelings for her parents. If Chen Hao knew what she was thinking, he would realize that Vivian was becoming increasingly human. That was the fundamental change arising from the awakening of self-awareness.

In fact, Vivian’s transformation was good news for Chen Hao, for she was his ideal goddess.

So when Chen Hao set her down, Vivian felt not only curiosity but also a faint sense of regret and reluctance. But at this stage, she could not fully comprehend the reasons for these emotional shifts; she simply felt them.

Standing beside Chen Hao, Vivian noticed that a person who shouldn’t have been there had appeared before them. Yet she still didn’t understand why Chen Hao had brought her here in such a hurry.

“Eh? Why is this human big sister here?” she asked innocently. “And Chen Hao, why are we running back this way? Weren’t those bad guys already defeated by the humans?”

Chen Hao didn’t answer. Instead, he shielded Vivian behind him. “Now we’re in real trouble! Vivian, do you remember what I told you before? If I start fighting, you must immediately fly toward the Forest of the Elves without looking back. You know the way, right?

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk properly. I’m still completely in the dark! What happened to you while I was gone? How did you leave the forest and end up captured by those monsters? If we ever meet again, promise you’ll tell me everything!”

With that, Chen Hao gave Vivian a forceful push. “Go! Run!” Then he turned and charged directly at the human GM. Vivian was still bewildered, but out of trust and closeness toward Chen Hao, she rose into the air, though she didn’t fly far—she hovered above, watching him.

Chen Hao was already attacking the GM at his first opportunity.

The GM shook her head. “Sigh... Still as direct as ever! Some things never change. Out with the old, in with the new, eh? Let’s see how much you’ve improved.”

As she spoke in words Chen Hao didn’t understand, her hands were not idle. Facing his punch, she showed not the slightest fear and raised her own fist to meet his, mirroring his attack.

She didn’t try to block his punch with her palm but instead formed a fist and met his blow head-on. Chen Hao didn’t relax in the least. For someone who could move so eerily fast, her combat strength was undoubtedly formidable.

So he added extra force to his punch at the last moment, channeling energy like the explosive power of Wing Chun’s close-range strikes, though his technique came from his own family’s martial arts tradition.

In truth, Chen Hao wasn’t sure if his real-world skills would translate into the game world, but this was no time to hesitate—he had to give it his all, holding nothing back.

The instant their fists collided, both were thrown back several steps. Chen Hao was astonished, and so was his opponent.

“Interesting! If I’m not mistaken, this is your second time entering the game, isn’t it? And you can already fight like this? The integration is going well! I’m impressed.”

“Hmph! You seem to know a lot about me,” Chen Hao retorted.

She laughed, but before she could respond, Chen Hao’s second attack was already upon her. His earlier words had been a deliberate distraction; he showed no mercy just because she was a woman, and his tactics were rather cunning.

From a young age, Chen Hao’s father had taught him in martial arts: once you’re engaged with an enemy, forget their gender, age, and status. In that moment, your opponent has only one identity—your enemy.

Never show mercy to an enemy, for mercy to them is cruelty to yourself and to those you must protect. Chen Hao had always remembered and agreed with this principle.

So his earlier ploy was entirely intentional—and it paid off. The female GM, caught off guard, took a direct kick from Chen Hao and was sent flying through the air...