To ascend, I had no choice but to create games - Chapter 84:

Chapter 84: Chapter 84: The Ending for the Insignificant Characters

The worldview of the new world unlocked once more, and the appearance and disappearance of companions made the protagonist’s inner monologue even lonelier.

And after the monologue concluded, it was time for the third instance.

When work hours ended, the protagonist, who worked alone, didn’t go home

but continued to work overtime.

He didn’t want to go home and didn’t know where else to go, as now everywhere was filled with strange octopus heads and colonies, and there weren’t many normal people like him left to see anymore.

As he numbly performed his peculiar work, he saw a line of text appear on his screen: “I know you can see this.”

“Don’t make a fuss, but don’t be too nervous either. Those octopus heads actually don’t use surveillance. They are no longer human, but some kind of monster that’s not quite right.”

“Remember this address, come to this warehouse later, there are your comrades. We are seeking ways to make the world normal again, we need you.” The progressively intensifying story had Wang engrossed in it, the immersive experience and various suspense elements gave Wang and his live-streaming audience the feeling of watching a blockbuster movie.

Upon reading these words, the protagonist felt joy.

He discovered that there were still quite a few people in this world just like him, this connection made him feel not so alone, he still had his comrades.

After memorizing the address, the protagonist immediately made his way to the location, but as soon as he arrived, he saw the warehouse the other party had mentioned ablaze, with emotionless octopus heads encircling it.

When they heard footsteps, the octopus heads turned their heads, staring at the protagonist with expressionless faces, their quiet eyes glowing like phosphorescence on the sea’s surface, harboring malice from the ocean.

When they reached this point, there was only one bug left in this instance. Controlling the protagonist to turn around, he silently walked down the road behind him.

But no matter which way he walked, this road never tookhim away from the scene.

Each loop brought him back in front of the burning warehouse, back in front of the group of octopus heads.

By now, Wang knew what the last bug was.

The roads that looped back were sealed off, disappearing, leaving the protagonist with no other choice but to head towards the warehouse, to face the octopus heads.

He was surrounded by octopus heads, and a multitude of tentacles snaked through his ear canals and eye sockets into his skull, the suction-cupped, slimy tentacles crossing his brain, plunging him into unconsciousness.

When he awoke, he found himself in a hospital.

The colonies were gone.

No more tentacles from octopus heads.

His gorgeous wife was by his side, her beauty unchanged. Seeing the protagonist wake up, she excitedly threw herself at him.

Hugging his wife stiffly, the protagonist hesitated for a moment, then gently patted her shoulder.

At the same time, the protagonist’s inner monologue began.

“They say I’ve been sick all this time, that everything I saw was a hallucination.”

“They say I’ve been ill for a long time.”

“They say…”

“Let it be.”

“I’m willing to believe what they say.”

“Let it be.”

After playing through this three-part script, Wang felt a bit unable to accept it. According to his understanding, at least the protagonist should have brought some weapons when heading to the warehouse, then fought fiercely.

Or, in the face of a group of sea creatures, he could have had a sudden burst of strength and then fought fiercely.

If all else failed, a girl could have descended from the heavens, taking the protagonist on a chaotic killing spree, and he would be content just to shout along.

The mechanical incarnation of gods seemed a bit counterintuitive, but it didn’t matter, as players sometimes didn’t care about logic. As long as they were in the right mood and the BGM started playing, getting players thrilled was all that mattered.

Unfortunately, nothing happened.

The story came to an abrupt halt, everything vanished as if it were snow, leaving no trace behind.

He was expecting a climax, a point where all the previous frustration could be vented, not like now, choosing to accept and be assimilated by others.

“The ending is so unsatisfying,” a viewer complained, “I wanted a heroic awakening, not this kind of petty compromise.”

“There1 s nothing we can do about it, that’s the plotline Wang randomly received. According to the information we have, the snow is a key detail. This world became this strange because of the snow.”

“What’s the cause of the snow, then?”

“I don’t know, that part of the story wasn’t explained. But other people have played different scripts and seen different plots. We’ll take a look at that later, and then analyze the story.”

“Although it’s frustrating, it feels quite realistic. This instance is full of metaphors; the octopus heads here symbolize evil and ugliness; the wife’s octopus head signifies unattractiveness, the colleagues’ octopus heads represent vulgarity. The protagonist said that the female coworker wasn t like that before but became so later, indicating that he once thought she was unusual, but upon real interaction, realized she was quite ordinary after all.” “Your analysis makes sense. So how do we interpret the protagonist’s entry into the warehouse at the end?”

“Didn’t download the anti-fraud app, got scammed into a pyramid scheme, and then had all his savings drained.”

“Hiss… Now that you mention it, it’s a horror story! I’m downloading the anti­fraud app right now.”

“Me too!”

“Let’s be serious, the protagonist was clearly assimilated in the end, which probably signifies the protagonist’s final compromise with society and self. In fact, we all long to be heroes, but none of us are. In the end, the protagonist s belief that they were also a form of reconciliation with himself, shows that each of us will go through this step.”

“Yes, well put. Old Thief, what’s your take? Why haven’t you said anything?”

Wang stated, what else could I possibly think?

I’m on my knees!

Normally, you guys share dirty pictures and behave like lewd nursery school dropouts.

When I play games, you just fan the flames, demanding that we take every last coin from NPCs and even sell them to work in mines in Africa.

But when things get serious, each one of you becomes a model language student, with perfect scores in reading comprehension. Nobody would believe you didn’t attend top universities.

So, it turns out everyone is an actor, and I’m the only clown, right? Seeing the group’s plot analysis start to escalate, drifting from the lowly ending to cynicism and existentialism, Wang hurriedly stopped everyone and said, “Alright, we’ll continue with the next instance. Let’s hope it’s more interesting.”

“Sure, hurry up, but I still want to talk about the symbolic significance of the snow here…”

“I’m out of here!”

As Wang Say Games continued to grind through instances, Fang Cheng stood in the void of the Mirror Universe, watching the spectacle unfold within the sphere of light.

The speed at which a single player cleared data was slow, but with thousands of players combined, it became somewhat considerable.

Although, in the end, the speed was still much slower than if he did it himself, he wasn’t in a rush anyway. After all, others were doing the work, and it allowed him some leisure.

However, the performance of the players still surprised him. They actually seemed to enjoy what he saw as the most boring task, and they could even analyze profound aspects from the storyline, something he couldn’t understand no matter what.

Game enthusiasts really are strange.

Beyond that, the luck of some players also amazed him.

For instance, Wang Say Games.

Most of the data within the sphere was related to culture and arts, but some players always managed to enter documents with detailed records and personal memories, allowing Fang Cheng to gain a rough understanding of the past events.

“Snow, assimilation… sounds like the work of the Disease Demon Lord. However, that guy should be dead already. I finely minced him along with his Primordial Spirit into mince meat; how could he possibly come back to life?” Reminiscing about the past, Fang Cheng fell into deep thought.