Chapter 77

Chapter 77: Artificial Soul Part 4

Kui Xin rushed into the subway and hurried home at the fastest speed possible.

On the way, she opened her phone and searched for keywords like “mirage” and “twilight sky” on social media apps, browsing through the real-time posts.

A flurry of photos flooded the screen. Clearly, more people than just Kui Xin had noticed the strange phenomena in the evening sky. People from all over the country were posting their own pictures on social media. Hot topic after hot topic was being fueled by these images.

#MiragesSeenAcrossChinaInTwilightSky

Kui Xin’s expression immediately fell.

She reviewed each photo posted by netizens, flipping through them page after page, noticing that the time when mirages appeared in various regions was inconsistent. When Kui Xin first saw the mirage, she checked her phone, which read 18:39.

The mirage had only lasted for less than twenty seconds, aligning closely with her time.

However, some netizens’ photos showed mirages starting as early as around five o’clock. Kui Xin even discovered photos from a student overseas, who shared that it wasn’t dusk but midday at her location. She purposefully searched for posts by people located abroad and found a terrifying conclusion—mirages had appeared nearly simultaneously within two and a half hours across all regions globally.

Stunned beyond belief, Kui Xin felt even more shaken than when she received the task to investigate the “cultist killing case” during her last subway ride. This was as disorienting as witnessing the eye within the cocoon aboard the Kraken.

The sense of oppression overwhelmed her.

It felt like the ceiling above was slowly descending, squeezing her space smaller and smaller until she could only bend or crouch down, or even lie flat.

Instead of a falling ceiling, it was a whole city… a world!

Kui Xin suppressed her anxious emotions and regained composure.

After days of navigating the Second World, she had learned to control her emotions, much like having an invisible switch in her head. Whenever she forcibly stayed calm, this switch would work, pushing undesirable emotions back deep inside.

The marketing buzz created a surge that reached the top search trends. More and more people uploaded their pictures.

Kui Xin scrolled through each post, then accessed their personal pages to check where they were located. She saved their images for detailed analysis later.

To conserve storage space, Kui Xin selected clearer, representative photos. Nevertheless, her phone memory filled up quickly.

She halted collecting photos and started analyzing the details.

Those blurred mirages depicted one city after another, inverted—they were skies and earth reversed in peculiar ways, like trees growing upside down. The skyscrapers in the reflected cities had vague outlines, slightly deformed by optical refraction.

Gray-black architectural phantoms were adorned with neon lights, colorful as auroras, although the morning light made it difficult to distinguish colors. However, from the current photos, it was clear that the mirages indeed represented a second-world style of city.

Kui Xin sifted through mirage photos, seeking familiarity—Black Sea City.

If the phantom of Black Sea City also appeared floating above a city of the First World, the situation would be dire.

The train arrived at her station. Kui Xin quickly pocketed her phone and ran home. Once there, she pulled out her phone again, comparing the photos closely.

Black Sea City was the most familiar among the cities in the Second World; she recognized its iconic landmarks at a glance.

The high-tech building downtown, the searchlights and lighthouse at the port, the crowded container docks by the sea… She looked for familiar phantoms in the images to validate her suspicions.

Finally, she found it.

She stared blankly at the screen, examining the lighthouse.

This phantom was eerily familiar. She knew its construction and height well since she had been there herself, sniping with a rifle on that very lighthouse before planning to eliminate the Python Sphere.

The mirage of Black Sea City appeared above a tiny, unknown fishing village called “Black Sand Corner” off the coast in an outer province.

The continents of the First and Second Worlds resembled each other in some areas but differed significantly in others. Yet, the phantom of Black Sea City appearing over Black Sand Corner hinted at a unique connection, perhaps suggesting that every city in the First World corresponded to a city in the Second World.

Kui Xin felt something stick in her throat. She sat silently in a chair.

Looking out, she noticed darkening skies. The vibrant twilight clouds had vanished; the sky now changed from deep blue to deep purple. There was nothing unusual outside—an empty sky devoid of mirages and reflected cities. But trending hashtags and the fervor of discussions starkly revealed a harsh reality.

Influence from the Second World on the First was growing, or perhaps the two worlds were merging.

Invasion of the First World by players of the Second World was already taking shape. Players had taken over bodies of the First World’s natives.

Initially, intrusion from the Second World was discreet.

The first sign Kui Xin encountered was Fang Zhi, a secret cult member and devout follower of the old gods. After seeing the茧中之眼 (cocooned eye) on the Kraken, she deeply suspected the existence of genuine deities in the Second World, with Fang Zhi acting as their pawn.

Starting today, the formal invasion by the Second World had begun, with the appearance of phantom cities in the sky serving as a forewarning.

What could come next after the phantom cities?

Kui Xin pondered deeply, staring at her phone screen before calling Yuan Lu proactively.

“You know about today’s—”

She was cut off as Yuan Lu preemptively said, “I know.”

Yuan Lu paused, saying with difficulty, “They are real cities in the Second World, I’ve seen my city’s phantom… So did Yu Qiwen and Xie Gankqing.”

“Any patterns?” Kui Xin immediately asked.

“Not yet,” Yuan Lu seemed troubled, continuing, “Initially, it was Yu Qiwen who noticed the landmarks of his city, but I’m lost.”

Hanging up, Kui Xin approached the window, looking out into vast night skies.

“I think… It’s fusion, mutual intermingling, or perhaps even an invasion?” Kui Xin suggested, “We will likely see increasingly significant intertwining effects soon.”

“That makes sense,” Yuan Lu responded irritably, “We’re like fools always worrying, fearing unknown changes.”

“At least we are aware of them. Those unaware could suffer unknowingly.” Kui Xin murmured softly.

This war involved players and natives in the Second World and the conflict between the First and Second Worlds.

Kui Xin felt that the two worlds were like wrestling opponents, one pressing down the other, intertwined yet opposing.

She pursed her lips and turned to the forum to read threads.

As expected, the forum was a mess. People were identifying phantoms over their cities. The impact was global and unprecedentedly widespread, leaving ordinary people stunned.

Though superpowers were occasionally returned to the real world and cults did kill, those incidents barely affected many. Players were still hidden effectively.

This time, the mirage had an impact comparable to a nuclear bomb, not only affecting players but also regular civilians.

…

Meanwhile, in a certain country in the Americas.

Narrow, cramped slum streets were blocked off, police were evacuating people, and many more held guns using cars as shields, keeping vigilant eyes on a dilapidated building.

Even though it was early morning, the previous night witnessed numerous violent events. Initially, the police assumed rival gang fights within the slums. On reaching the scene, the true culprit was revealed—a lone individual had killed a gang of fifteen that had long-controlled the slums, then escaped.

Police led dogs to track the suspect’s scent, and they surrounded the area.

All officers wondered, How did a single person manage to kill a group so fierce?

The police faced off against the suspect inside.

Fifteen minutes later, the individual showed impatience, smashing down the door, attempting a desperate escape. In unison, police opened fire, but bullets seemed to bounce off his skin as hard as steel, stopping lethal shots.

Shocked, Officer Dylan remarked furiously, “F**K!”

He screamed profanities, shock making him shoot faster than speak. To his horror, the suspect brandished a gun at him, trying to breach.

Seeing firearms futile, Dylan acted boldly, charging and tackling the suspect, wrestling him down. The attacker’s gun flew away.

Dylan concluded the suspect lacked strength, fighting experience. Only his invincible armor could explain it.

In that instant, he noticed the suspect’s bleeding gum—he was only tough on the outside!

With a swift hand, the suspect reached his waist, presumably retrieving a weapon, but Dylan moved quicker, pulling out a spare gun and jamming it in the suspect’s mouth, firing.

Bang! The suspect fell lifelessly.

Blood splattered, chaos ensued.

Dylan’s colleague rushed to check on him.

“We stumbled upon a monstrosity,” he sighed.

Dylan stood up, supported by his colleague into a vehicle.

As he sat down, a faint vibration from his pocket startled him; thinking it was a message from his daughter, he pulled out his phone, only to find an email:

“Congratulations, you’ve obtained access for the beta test of the ‘Crimson Soil’ game.”

At the same moment, a highlighted official post appeared atop the game forum:

“Updated game rules.”

Pinned at the top: Ordinary citizens of the First World can gain entry to the Second World by killing players.

Further rules are left for players to discover.

Kui Xin scanning the forum recalled a previous post about rules with a similar concluding line—rules only known after exploration. Many undiscovered, hidden rules surely existed!

Someone triggered this rule—indicating an ordinary person had killed a player?