Doomsday Wonderland - Chapter 470

Chapter 470: Lin Sanjiu The Renegade

“Game?”

In the Astral Plane, the language barrier was no longer the limiting factor as all of them communicated via “Higher Consciousness.” Hence, Lin Sanjiu was confident that she didn’t get the wrong end of the stick. A little bit confused, she asked and waited for the reply from the bionic automaton.

“Yes, a game.” Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed) answered shortly.

Lin Sanjiu blinked her eyes.

The bulb on top of Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed)’s head sparkled.

… The confrontation of a woman and a robot took a sharp turn and became silent. Both of them stared at each other in speechless dismay while floating amongst the stars.

Finally, Lin Sanjiu gave in, “Are you not gonna explain to me about the game?”

“Oh, so you have no idea what it is about?”

“I’m waiting for your explanation!”

“I’m sorry for that. I thought you’re just considering my suggestion… Woe is me but the way you human express yourself is way too abstruse,” the bulb on top of Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed) lit up again. “But again, I’m also at fault. I shouldn’t be expecting you to come up with a conclusion without telling you all the prerequisite conditions.”

Then, as the gears in its body rattled to life, a long, smooth-shaped machinery part protruded from its main body. The long machinery part whirred, and then another tiny, gun-like black object appeared from its opening surface. Using the projection, Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed) pointed to the cosmos behind Lin Sanjiu and said calmly, “Please take a look at that side.”

The area it pointed was a large magnificent cluster of stars. The stars were gyrating towards the heart of the cluster in the form of a vortex, emanating its brilliant purplish radiance. With the asterism as their destination, countless stars were traveling towards the vortex, drawing a long tail of light in their paths.

“Why are all people going there?” Lin Sanjiu asked, confounded, “What is in there?”

“In the center of the vortex, there’s an ‘online gaming platform,’ it’s also the where I’m going with a few posthumans just now,” Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed) said as it flailed its “arm” around. “All of the posthuman gather there to play games.”

“Games? What kind of games? And why do they need to play a game?” Lin Sanjiu continued to fire more questions; her eyes were filled with bewilderment as she peered into the star cloud, “…What does it have to do with me leaving the Astral Plane?”

“Answer for your first question: it’s a game in which posthuman uses their Higher Consciousness to battle each other under certain rules.”

“Answer for your second question: when a posthuman has blotted enough Higher Consciousness and entered the “Astral Plane,” they could no longer grow their Higher Consciousness, or develop any other corresponding abilities through their primary developmental pathway. For instance, my [Engineering Laboratory] now serves only as a connection portal between the real world and the Astral Plane. Hence, to earn a better understanding of the Higher Consciousness and also as a way of training, several of our powerful predecessors poured in their Higher Consciousness to co-create this gaming platform with many corresponding conditions.”

This was not the first time she heard the words “corresponding conditions.” With a gaping mouth, Lin Sanjiu contemplated if she should interrupt its explanation, but the metal block continued its lecture, “Answer for your third question: Since it’s a place to hone our Higher Consciousness, perhaps you might be able to wake your teacher up from her slumber.”

Lin Sanjiu’s mind was all over the place even though she had received a full, detailed explanation from Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed). A part of her felt she had a good grasp over the whole picture, yet at the same time, the other part of her was murmuring next to her ear that she didn’t understand it at all. Hence, she extended her concern, again, “Wouldn’t it be too dangerous for the weak like us to barge into a place full of posthumans?”

“According to my calculation, your concern is totally irrelevant. There are rules that every player has to follow,” Project J’s Specimen No.7 (Failed) said. “After you’ve entered a game, your action will be strictly restricted by the rules imposed by the game. Unless the game requires the posthumans to fight, otherwise every posthuman is forbidden from attacking each other in the platform.”

“If that’s the case, I suppose it’s worth to make a trip there.” Frowning, Lin Sanjiu carefully weighed the consequences before making up her mind.

She had zero knowledge towards both the Astral Plane and the ironclad humanoid in front of her. If she continued to behave like a shrinking violet, not daring to make any progress due to the fear of getting disappointed, she would never be able to leave the Astral Plane.

“On the other hand, Magus doesn’t seem to be bearing any ill-intent toward the grand prize, so he should be fairly safe for now…”

With that thought in mind, Lin Sanjiu’s anxiety had reduced a bit.

“How do you know so much about this place?”

As both of them joined the group of stars traveling toward the online gaming platform, Lin Sanjiu couldn’t help but look at the star next to her that was glittering in a metallic shine. She asked, “Do you have a shorter name? I feel bad to call you failed specimen every time.”

“Answer for your question one: I get the wind from another posthuman. Answer for your second question two: you can call me J7.”

“J7. That’s a better name.”

The appearance of this mechanical creature had seemingly aroused Lin Sanjiu’s curiosity from its slumber, and she couldn’t help but inquiry more about its origin. As they whiled away the time chatting, they found that the stars that had been traveling next to them began to decelerate and that the stars in front of them had stopped moving entirely. It seemed that there was some kind of obstruction at the front line.

The sight of hundreds of stars crowding in an area was something to be reckoned with. Each of the stars was glowing with fierce intensity, lighting the area with kaleidoscopic beams of light. It was as dazzling as any bright sunny day. Turning her head over, Lin Sanjiu realized that there were more stars spread out behind her, forming into a swirling of stars that she had seen in the distance just now.

Even though she had stayed in the Astral Plane for quite some time, the surpassingly magnificent scenery never failed to amaze her every time.

“According to them, the online gaming platform is right ahead of us,” said J7 as it retracted an outstretched machinery part from the gap between the two posthumans that were talking. Seeing this, Lin Sanjiu somehow had gained an insight into how J7 got its information.

“Is this your first time here?”

“Yes,” J7 answered while stealthily stored its “ear” away. “I know this sound embarrassing, but I’m glad you decide to come with me.”

Smiling bitterly inside, what Lin Sanjiu didn’t tell J7 was that, aside from being unable to use her Evolving Ability, she was still in the limbo of getting her feet wet in fighting using her Higher Consciousness. However, she had lost her chance to confess to J7 of what she had been hiding from it. There were just too many posthumans around, and it would do them no good if somebody eavesdropped their conversation.

After they had moved along with the river of stars for roughly ten minutes, the entrance to “online gaming platform” finally appeared in their line of sight.

Lin Sanjiu had imagined the picture of the entrance in her mind. Hence, she was somewhat surprised to see that the access was this… normal.

A long silky-white ribbon was hovering above the space in front of the few posthumans at the front line. Beyond the ribbon, there was merely a dark void without any light.

Half of it was dark while the other half was light. The inconspicuous white ribbon served as the sole demarcation line, preventing and keeping both the dark and the light in check and from overcrossing each other.

Every star would stop in front of the white ribbon; some were long while some were short. All of them were listening to something and their reactions varied. Some of them turned to the other way before congealing into a streak of light and blinked away, while some just flew straight into the darkness behind the white ribbon and disappeared completely.

It looked like almost a quarter of people would choose to leave.

The two posthumans whose verbal exchange had been earwigged by J7 jumped into the darkness; then it was Lin Sanjiu and J7’s turn. Lin Sanjiu couldn’t tell if was J7 as nervous as she was judging from its metallic surface. As both of them approached the white ribbon, the scales fell from her eyes as she saw the reason why some of the posthumans chose to leave. As if the white ribbon had sensed their presence, an announcement—seemingly pre-recorded into it—sounded beside the woman and the automaton.

“Welcome to the online gaming platform. All gamers are required to follow the rules of the game. All participants are strictly forbidden from creating any disputes or engaging in any melee activity if the game requirements do not require it. Once the game has started, participants are not allowed to exit through your developmental pathway; only after the round has ended, you’re allowed to leave. Games that involve battling element would, however, take into account the reputation and the strengths of Higher Consciousness of each participant before matching up two parties for a fight. After all, we sought a fair battle, not a one-sided annihilation. The entrance fee would be 0.5% of Potential Growth Value. Please transfer your Potential Growth Value into the white ribbon with your Higher Consciousness before entering the platform.”

Overwhelmed, Lin Sanjiu peered at J7, who was standing right next to her.

Lin Sanjiu could see the reason why those predecessors would painstakingly build such a large gaming platform. Potential Growth Value was the root of every posthuman, and it was also the foundation for all Evolving Ability and Higher Consciousness.

The value of Potential Growth Value would decide how strong a posthuman would eventually become. While the reason a Growth Type was so precious was that they could grow their Potential Growth Value over time. It explained for what Lin Sanjiu had encountered earlier on when she suddenly appeared in the Astral Plane, alone and powerless. Everyone was chasing after her like a bunch of shark hunting for the source of blood in the sea. After all, the chance to break through the upper limit was not an everyday thing.

The number looked small, but some people refused to pay for it, and such people were by no means rare.

“…What is your thought?” After the fight with Syphilis, Lin Sanjiu had far more enough deposits in her pocket to pay for that 0.5% entrance fee. Besides, she still needed to wake Mrs. Manas up, “I’m in; how about you?”

“I guess it worth a try,” J7 said after it had contemplated for a while. “We should be able to earn back the Potential Growth Value after we have completed the game. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many people queuing up.”

Nodding, Lin Sanjiu and the automaton turned into two little light balls and darted toward the back of the white ribbon.

“… The reason I admire you is that although Bohemia is more popular and is stronger than you, you still managed to hit her in the spot and snatch a quarter of Potential Growth Value from her…” When they landed from the darkness and stepped on solid ground, J7 was still mumbling beside her ear, “It’s not an easy feat, you know. If we could snatch a person’s Potential Growth Value through the mean of a surprise attack, the Astral Plane would have long become a total mare’s nest… Oh, we’re here.”

Lowering her head, Lin Sanjiu realized she had returned to her human form. She was now standing on top of a greyish cement floor. She raised her head, realizing that the room was very gloom and small and it would undoubtedly evoke claustrophobia. The wall was thick, and it stretched as far as her eyes could see. There was a small vent window with a height of around three or four meters near the ceiling. There was also a tiny hole embedded in the center of the giant iron gate, blocked with a few iron rods. She could see the outside through the hole.

…It looked like she had ended up in a jail room.

“What game is it?” J7 asked as it scrutinized the room. Then, some part on its body whirred, and white light instantly filled the whole room. It turned out that it was equipped with lighting on its body.

“Here, there are words on the ground,” When the light swoop past the ground, Lin Sanjiu caught something, “…Welcome to the… Three-Legged Prison Break’?”

J7 elongated its stapler-like component with a whir and looked at the ground.

“This is the Alcatraz Penitentiary… As a player, your goal is to escape from this maximum security prison… The players will be grouped into teams of two, and the two players must maintain physical contact to clear every checkpoint. Falling in doing so will result in both players being sent back to the cell…” J7 read the instruction in a hushed voice. “The game will not end until both players have escaped Alcatraz Penitentiary. Well, it seems like this game is specially designed for two players.”

After it had finished reading the instruction, J7 retracted its mechanical component. Then, it suddenly felt a little too quiet.

It turned its “head” 180 degrees to the back and turned to the front in the very next second. J7 repeated the same motion for a few times before it finally accepted the fact that Lin Sanjiu was gone.

Under the white ray that came from its body, the dust that floated around the air of the dark and raw confined space was lucid to the eyes. Aside from the two thin straw mats on the ground, there wasn’t anybody else in the cell.

…Standing alone, J7 shut off the illumination on its body.

“Gasp.” As Lin Sanjiu drew in her breath, color and vision slowly surged into her irises like a tidal wave. A wisp of air made their way into her burning lungs as the frightening and ruthless darkness ebbed away from her mind. Pressing hard on her throat, Lin Sanjiu curled her body into a ball and retched. Only then she realized she’d just had a stroll from the gate of hell.

“…But am I not in the Astral Plane just now? Has the game already begun?”

Her vision was blurred by the tear that came along while she was dry-heaving; she couldn’t see anything at all. Coughing fiercely, she clawed tightly on the carpet. Every breath she took was like a fire burning in her windpipe.

“…Carpet? Where did the carpet come from?”

“Take it easy. I almost strangled you to death.” A voice cut into her mind.

Lin Sanjiu wiped the tears off her eyes and raised her head. It was Magus. She was sitting in a chair comfortably. There was a smirk dancing around her lips.

“Who could have thought you did not know how to leave the Astral Plane?” She said matter-of-factly. Then, she rested her chin on top of her nails coated in bright scarlet paint. “So I took a rather risky way to drag you out from the Astral Plane. Yeap, I pushed you to the brink of death, so that when I save you, you will come back.”

There was a look of confusion on Lin Sanjiu’s face as she didn’t understand what she had said at all.

“Oh my, I’ve heard doofus couldn’t understand a pure theoretical explanation, and that I have to use an example, so that’s true,” Magus sighed as she combed her glittering and silky hair with her fingers, “…I have ‘reset’ you.”

What Lin Sanjiu didn’t know was that, at the same time as the words came out from Magus’ lips, J7 released a cry of rage inside the prison of the Astral Plane.

“Humans are all liars!”