Chapter 119

### Chapter 119: Artificial Soul 46

August 15th, the sixth day since returning to the First World.

The Second World was full of dangerous and thrilling experiences, enough to make one weary.

Compared to that, the First World, though not entirely free from danger, was much more peaceful for sure. At the very least, Kui Xin no longer had to constantly worry about her head being on the line.

Su Rong hadn’t fully recovered and was still in poor health, so her family, genuinely concerned for her, gave her additional sick leave. Thus, Kui Xin hasn’t been giving her tutoring during this time.

Peaceful days were rare, and Kui Xin spent them training according to her routine, occasionally browsing forums and news for updates on various happenings. She particularly paid attention to the movements of Secret Cult members.

Players had joined the Secret Cult after crossing over to the Second World, and Fang Zhi was one. The black-clad man Kui Xin killed on the train seemed to be another.

Before dying, the black-clad man’s words left her slightly unsettled: “I am not alone, the Deity is watching you.”

At first, Kui Xin thought he said this because his accomplice was on the train. However, she later realized it wasn’t the case; the attacker was alone throughout. So, his final words might mean: Many Heterogeneous Blooded have their eyes on you, they will track you down and you can’t escape.

His words reminded Kui Xin of Fang Zhi.

Fang Zhi had arrived in Tonglin City inexplicably, found Su Rong’s house without reason, as if guided by a deity.

Currently, the main threats in the First World for Kui Xin came from Heterogeneous Blooded individuals and the “Deity” they worshipped.

To avoid unexpected confrontations with Heterogeneous Blooded, Kui Xin connected to the city’s surveillance systems. Although she couldn’t analyze footage from every camera, she focused on monitoring near her home, Su Rong’s home, and He Kangshi’s residence.

Furthermore, Kui Xin duplicated resident information and facial recognition software. It took her some time to input the data into the program; this way, she could be alerted when an out-of-town or out-of-city individual entered the critical zones she monitored.

Due to the storage limitations of her phone, she couldn’t hold such large amounts of data. Therefore, she bought parts to assemble a computer suitable for her needs and inserted the data inside, linking the alert system to her phone.

Kui Xin felt like a seasoned hunter gathering data.

While she didn’t code facial recognition programs herself, she accessed the hackers’ systems to copy the necessary codes. Though her scope was limited, utilizing existing surveillance systems was a practical choice.

Using one’s tools wisely was essential.

She had other responsibilities too, so she couldn’t focus solely on data handling and vigilance against Heterogeneous Blooded. She utilized a computer to streamline her efforts.

During these days, He Kangshi contacted Kui Xin less frequently, busy trying to earn money.

Since he couldn’t freely go out or show his face online, he lost his source of income. Forced into a corner, he created a secondary account for live streaming game commentary without revealing his identity.

When doing this, he asked Kui Xin for help setting up encryption to prevent being traced.

“I bought a voice changer, it just arrived,” He Kangshi recounted. “I will start streaming every evening. You can join me if you want.”

He altered his address to call her “Older Brother,” instead of “Big Boss.”

In the late afternoon, Kui Xin, having nothing else to do, checked He Kangshi’s stream and wore a baffled expression.

He used a female voice, mature and commanding, with many praising him: “Your voice is so charming! Keep up the good work!”

Below his new account signature read: “Earning money is nothing to be ashamed of!”

Impressive, indeed.

August 15th, evening.

After taking photos of the mirage and having dinner, Kui Xin rested and did several exercises. Following tradition, she reviewed city surveillance cameras again.

Tonight would be crucial; after midnight, it would be August 16th.

An official announcement stated that on midnight of August 16th,第二批《深红之土》的第二次内部测试玩家名单将准时公布。

For many, tonight would be a sleepless one.

Those who hadn’t entered the game looked forward to being chosen; those who had played eagerly awaited the ten thousand newcomers joining the forum, so they could provide them with the necessary information promptly.

With ten minutes left until midnight, Kui Xin paused all activities and sat on the bed to refresh the forum.

Players were chatting vigorously.

“Will newcomers think everyone here is role-playing? Strange discussions, unfamiliar terms… They’ll definitely be scared.”

“Once the ten thousand arrive, keeping secrets will be impossible. Someone will spill the beans.”

“I think rebellious players will increase. Despite everyone discouraging them, they insist on playing—this isn’t our fault…”

Kui Xin silently browsed through posts as clock digits changed at midnight, triggering a rapid refresh.

The forum blanked initially then transformed subtly.

Higher up appeared a navigation bar with sections for the first section, second section, and personal section.

Kui Xin froze.

Refreshing again, tags marked “New” surfaced.

“Personal sections appeared!” “First testers belong to the first section,第二批 testers must be in the second section!?”

“The personal section? What does it do?”

“You can’t access the personal section, but the second section is accessible—with no content yet. Players haven’t registered fully, wait a bit.”

She paused, clicked on personal, a window popped up:

“Detected player title [Hunter]. Conditions met for personal section activation. Opening grants management rights including post deletion, sticky posting, bans, and rule settings. Invite others to this section. Confirm?”

Startled, Kui Xin never imagined the useless “Hunter” title would activate the personal section. Only titled players could do so.

No doubt, personal sections would accelerate group formations among players.

Decisively clicking confirm, she set up:

“Black Snake.”

Section activated.

Navigation: First, Second, Black Snake.

The “Black Snake” stuck out awkwardly on the navigation bar.

Instantly, everyone in First Section was stunned.

“Personal section [Black Snake], what’s going on?”

“What’s ‘Black Snake’? A nickname? A player named Black Snake just opened a forum?”

Alerts kept pinging, He Kangshi was awake too, sending messages frantically.

He Kangshi: “Boss, is the Black Snake profile yours?”

Kui Xin: “Yes.”

He Kangshi: “Wow! Show off your achievements!”

Kui Xin twitched.

He Kangshi was in ecstasy, rambling, “I picked the right side. It feels like joining a revolution, only to find my leader destined for glory—like an emperor…”

Kui Xin: “…”.

“He’s just overreacting.”

“To be the first player with a personal section, you’re a global rarity, the ultimate gamer!” His flattery rolled on.

Kui Xin sighed, closing the chat.

She checked her personal section—it was empty. She posted a thread with a single symbol.

Title emphasized, showing her title plus nickname: “Hunter – 233.”

Kui Xin clicked her name and hid the title prefix, leaving only “233.” Deleting this thread, she explored features and found an invite button.

Adding “Maicyo” to the section, she advised via text, “Don’t speak unless I allow.”

Returning to the forum’s main page, she viewed Second Section.

Some第二批内测玩家 had registered, with few posts. One asked why they couldn’t enter First Section, nor the “Black Snake” section.

Kui Xin pondered.

First testers enjoyed extensive access, Second testers faced restrictions.

This showed hierarchy within the forum:

—

End