Chapter Seven: Colleagues?

At this moment, Chen Hao and the girl stood before a mountain so tall it pierced the clouds. To call it sky-piercing was no exaggeration—it was the simple truth. The mountain’s sheer face stretched straight up into the mist, its summit lost entirely to sight. And yet, height alone was not the most astonishing aspect. This was not merely a mountain, but a mountain range—a range of such staggering length that, like its height, no end could be seen to left or right.

Chen Hao was absolutely certain that nothing like this existed in the real world. No way. There were mountains taller than this, perhaps, and ranges longer than the eye could see; but one that combined both these extremes? Impossible. He knew all the world’s famous mountain ranges—none were like this.

Normally, a mountain range was a jagged sequence of peaks, high and low, rising and falling along the land. There were no such undulations here. What stretched before them was not a range but a wall—a gigantic, vertical cliff, smooth and seamless, with none of the broad bases and tapering summits characteristic of mountains. It was simply an immense, vertical barrier. No mountaineer, no matter how skilled, could hope to conquer this flawless precipice.

From this, Chen Hao realized something immensely important: this place could not possibly exist in the real world. Considering the conversation he’d overheard earlier among the five people, Chen Hao was now almost certain—he was in a game world.

This revelation eased his tension somewhat. He’d suspected it before, and now that suspicion was nearly confirmed. His courage swelled.

Ha! So, this was just a game. What did it matter if those people chasing him caught up? In a game, pain wasn’t real, and death meant nothing—you’d just respawn and try again.

But Chen Hao overlooked a crucial detail: in a game, you didn’t feel pain or die for real, but you also didn’t have a sense of smell. Yet just moments before, he’d caught the girl’s fragrance—a sensation impossible in a virtual world.

But Chen Hao was oblivious to this discrepancy. Instead, he turned to the girl and said, “No need to fly any farther—there’s nowhere to go anyway. Set me down!”

The girl refused. “Are you kidding? If I put you down, they’ll catch you! Don’t you care about your life?”

Chen Hao couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ve never seen such a humane NPC before! Has the company’s technology really come this far? Artificial intelligence has advanced to this level? Looks like the game will be a huge hit after this update!”

He’d taken the winged girl for an NPC, and the five broom-riders chasing them for another batch of NPCs. As for himself, he must have entered the game for some unknown reason—most likely, he’d passed out and Gu Mengyan, his friend, brought him home and hooked him up to the game interface.

Gu Mengyan knew his habits. Every night, he’d lie in bed to log in and play for a while. Even though the game was temporarily shut down due to the virus outbreak, he hadn’t broken the habit. Even with nothing to play, he’d still enter his private game space just to admire the scenery.

Perhaps tonight, the game’s maintenance had finally been completed? His team had finished processing the data earlier, and maybe the company had started testing some of the content. That’s what Chen Hao surmised.

The girl was about to say something more when the five broom-riders finally caught up to them. “Nowhere left to run, huh?” one of them sneered, glaring at Chen Hao and the girl.

But as they got a clear look at Chen Hao, all five frowned. “Where did this program come from? There’s no record of him in the database!”

“Who knows what bit of code glitched this time? Stuff like this keeps happening ever since that damned virus appeared—it’s been dumping all sorts of problems on us. We spend half the day just clearing out these spontaneously generated bugs. I can barely get any rest!” one complained.

He didn’t realize his words had shaken Chen Hao to the core. These people knew about the virus? And about code, programs, and bugs? They weren’t NPCs? What was going on? Were they actually programmers, here to fix things inside the game?

If so, didn’t they realize he was a player, not an NPC? Then it struck Chen Hao: in a game, he should be able to bring up his personal information panel, check his inventory and gear—something he hadn’t thought of during the long chase.

Without hesitation, Chen Hao tried to open his info panel as usual. But no matter what he did, nothing happened. His inventory and other game features simply didn’t exist.

“What the hell is going on?” he blurted out. “Where the hell am I?”

The five exchanged glances, watching his odd behavior. “This program’s a bit strange. Its emotional responses are way too advanced—it’s almost on our level!”

“Damn it, what’s going on here? Who are you people? And what’s with the girl carrying me? Most importantly, I am not a program! I’m a human being! A person!” Chen Hao shouted.

“What?!” Now it was the five who were startled. “You say you’re not a program, but a human?”

After a brief pause, they regained their composure. “Ha! Poor little program. Still doesn’t realize this world is just a virtual construct we made. Even with self-awareness, you’re still just a pitiful bit of code.”

“Damn it all…” Chen Hao was flustered. “What do I have to say to make you believe me? I’m not a program! My name is Chen Hao. I’m a technician at Illusion Corporation. You can check your records—I just worked overtime today. After work, I went with friends to a crappy little place called White Bone Cave for cumin-grilled salmon, and somehow, I ended up in this godforsaken place being chased by you people. I must be cursed!”

The five were stunned.

“He actually knows the company’s name?”

“And that place too…”

“What do you think is going on here?”

“No idea! But whether he’s telling the truth or not, we need to capture him and ask some questions. Even if he really is human, he shouldn’t be in the game at a time like this. And that place he mentioned… You must know what that implies.”

“Well! After all these boring days, something interesting has finally happened. I’ll take responsibility for this one—don’t interfere,” one said.

The other four shrugged. “Just don’t mess it up!”

Their conversation made no attempt to hide anything from Chen Hao.

“Hey! Did you even hear what I said? I’m an employee at Illusion Corporation—a technician, your colleague! Is this how you treat a fellow worker?” Chen Hao protested.

“Heh! You’re still too young and naive. Even if you’re telling the truth, you’re just a cog in the machine—nothing compared to us. What’s happening to you is important. So, sorry! If you come quietly, maybe I’ll go easy on you.”

“What a joke! Why should I go with you? I haven’t done anything wrong. Even if I were a criminal, you’re just employees, not police or judges. Why should I listen to you?”

“You have no choice! You’re coming with us, whether you like it or not. I suggest you don’t try anything stupid. I’m not exactly a saint, and while I might not kill you, I won’t spare you any pain either.”

“Pfft! As if I’m scared. No matter what, this is just a game. Even if you catch me, so what? I’ll just log out. What, you think you can kill me in-game?” Chen Hao scoffed.

He still didn’t know why he couldn’t access his info panel or how he’d ended up in the game, but now that he was certain this was a game, Chen Hao was fearless.

But he was making things far too simple for himself…