Chapter 223

Chapter 223: The Balance of Two Ends 04

After the post was released, Kui Xin no longer paid attention to what players said or did, nor their reactions; she began to diligently record useful information from the backend.

First, she audited those players who had revealed their personal information, as these individuals had preliminarily qualified to enter her personal section. Kui Xin required each player to declare their real identity in the First World and the general range of activities in the Second World. In fact, knowing just the former would allow her to grasp their movements quite well. Kui Xin could use this to obtain all their information in the First World, confirm the authenticity of that information—from their birth records to their place of residence and contact numbers, nothing could escape Kui Xin’s data search.

However, there was one crucial point to note: while Kui Xin could validate their First World information, she could not verify their Second World information… But this wasn’t a significant problem. As long as the information from the First World was authentic, even if players entering the personal section raised issues, Kui Xin could carry out targeted cleaning based on that information.

As for how to verify the authenticity of the First World information provided by the players, that was a meticulous task.

Players usually concealed their identities in reality and paid extra attention to confidentiality. It was difficult for Kui Xin to confirm whether a certain person was a player based on chat logs or mobile search records.

Some malicious players might use the identities of real individuals while hiding backstage.

To establish that the person displayed in the information was the same as the player, there were indeed methods…

While recording information, Kui Xin saw two interviewees in the vast backend private messages: one was Scalpel, and the other was Golden Ring.

Both had revealed their personal information, stating that their activity location in the Second World was White Whale City. The information of these two people in the First World warranted thorough investigation.

Kui Xin sighed and began her “work” for the night.

…

At three in the morning, a player who had submitted personal information applications and was still awake suddenly felt a vibration from their mobile phone, and a strange text message popped up.

At first glance, the message looked like junk spam, but upon closer inspection, it read: “The game you scheduled has started testing. Players gather, Black Snake Personal Guild awaits your joining. Click the link below to download the game. To unsubscribe, please reply TD.”

This message was followed by a link address.

Late at night, all players who received this message felt embarrassed.

“Damn, what a genius! This is how you verify?!” The trio of Yu Qiwen, Xie Gankqing, and Yuan Lu, bleary-eyed from lack of sleep, exclaimed simultaneously.

Yuan Lu covered his face: “Unbelievable! The message went to non-players who would just treat it as a marketing scam. With anti-fraud campaigns so effective now, no normal person would click on a suspicious link; it’s only the players of Crimson Soil who would click that link.”

Yu Qiwen said, “Seriously, how did Black Snake come up with this method?”

“I’ll check it out,” Xie Gankqing said.

Xie Gankqing first submitted his personal information to Black Snake, intending to probe the waters, not expecting to receive a reply tonight.

He clicked the link, and a flashy, gaudy page sprang up. The screen flickered chaotically; it was clear this wasn’t a legitimate site—even a normal person misclicking would probably exit immediately. Staying even for two seconds might risk getting a virus or being scammed.

Xie Gankqing knew this site wasn’t so simple. He noticed a very inconspicuous progress bar loading at the bottom of the page. After three minutes, the progress bar reached its end, and the flashy screens faded abruptly, leaving a clean page with black background and white text.

The page displayed several input boxes for name, gender, ID number…

This was another deterrent mechanism; those unaware of the situation would definitely not input their personal information on an unknown website—only players would!

Xie Gankqing completed the information step by step and clicked confirm.

The webpage flashed and directly entered the facial recognition verification channel. Xie Gankqing held his phone up to his face twice, and the screen displayed: “Verification passed!”

He exited the website and refreshed the player forum twice, attempting to click on the personal section of “Black Snake,” then suddenly, he was in.

Black Snake granted him access to the section!

Yu Qiwen excitedly said, “Bro, you’re in! You really got in!”

There were already posts in Black Snake’s personal section, but only a few scattered posts, most of them meaningless exclamations.

Xie Gankqing steadied his emotions and turned to Yuan Lu and Yu Qiwen: “Do you want to join now, or wait for me to probe a bit?”

Yuan Lu contemplated: “Let’s wait a bit. Now that you’re in, we already have you as our informant. Black Snake didn’t say the recruitment has a time limit; we should be able to join anytime in the future.”

Yu Qiwen’s excitement gradually calmed as he assessed: “There must be a top hacker on Black Snake’s side. That hacker retrieved the identity information of the applicants who submitted data and created this website to verify those who joined the personal section. Those who completed the full verification can be confirmed as real individuals existing in the real world. These details are tightly controlled by The Shadowless Organization, significantly reducing the probability of unidentified individuals infiltrating the personal section.”

“What if a player controlled someone and had them complete the entire verification, while hiding their identity?” Yuan Lu pondered.

“That would be a small probability event. Still, as I said, we can’t throw the baby out with the bathwater,” Yu Qiwen replied. “Besides, completing the full verification is also a clue. At the very least, it proves that that person has had contact with the player. We can follow that clue and track it down much more easily. Since there’s a super hacker within The Shadowless Organization, tracking information on specific individuals shouldn’t be difficult.”

Yuan Lu agreed: “That makes sense.”

“A good start; everything is on the right track,” Xie Gankqing said. “You two should hurry and get some rest.”

Yu Qiwen rubbed his eyes: “I can’t do it anymore. I really can’t hold on. I have to report tomorrow, and I haven’t packed much yet…”

“That player girl from your university, have you kept in touch?” Yuan Lu asked.

“Yes, we just exchanged some safe messages at most. We didn’t talk much,” Yu Qiwen replied. “Once we’re at university, we can get to know each other more; we’re from the same college, Information Engineering College. She’s in AI, and I’m in Computer Science.”

“That’s quite a coincidence. Stay in touch; just consider it a good destiny,” Xie Gankqing said.

Yuan Lu stretched: “We can’t stay up late anymore… A couple of days ago, my mom asked why the three of us have been so clingy and mysterious lately.”

Yu Qiwen shrugged: “This all dates back to a damn game.”

As he left the computer to go to bed, Yu Qiwen thought for a moment and messaged Kui Xin, who would soon become his classmate at university: “Have you joined the personal section yet?”

Surprisingly, she was also awake and quickly replied: “No… I don’t want to get involved with that. I just want a peaceful life.”

Just want a peaceful life? Yu Qiwen mused, realizing her attitude had always been so distant and settled.

“Well, let’s work hard in university together,” Yu Qiwen said as a polite remark.

Kui Xin responded politely as well: “Let’s work hard together.”

…

The next morning, Kui Xin was awakened by the squeaking sounds of mice. The mutated little white mice had gone completely insane, frantically gnawing on their cage and making increasingly aggressive noises.

Annoyed and still groggy, Kui Xin got up, grabbed her blade, and went to the bathroom. One slice ended the life of the mutated mouse, after which she poured some alcohol over it and opened the bathroom ventilation to burn the mouse’s remains, cleaning up thoroughly.

She washed her face to suppress her irritation. This morning, she didn’t plan to go for an early workout; instead, she needed to pack her things.

Going to university required clothes, and as Kui Xin rummaged through her cabinet for old clothes, she sadly realized a fact—most of them were too small.

In other words, she had grown taller, gained muscle, and her physique had changed significantly.

After measuring her height, she discovered it matched perfectly with her height in the Second World. She stretched her muscles, feeling a rush of strength throughout her body.

This was a good thing, but it also had its downsides.

Kui Xin packed the clothes she could wear into her suitcase, intending to buy some new outfits in a couple of days.

She didn’t pack too much because normal daily supplies could be bought at the campus supermarket once she got to university, and also because she might not be able to stay there long; she might need to apply for a leave of absence. If she packed too much, it would be troublesome to bring it back.

A leave of absence needs to be justified. If the school leaders asked Kui Xin for her reason, what was she supposed to say? “Teacher, I’m going to defend my home.”

The leaders would definitely reject her application for leave.

It would be best to obtain a medical report proving she had an illness requiring home care. That way, she could smoothly process the leave without raising suspicions.

By the time she finished packing, it was almost noon. Kui Xin changed clothes and styled her hair, tying it back into a high ponytail. She put on a black T-shirt and white shorts, securing a sports belt around her waist for her phone. As she placed her phone in the belt, she subconsciously slipped a blade into it, and as her foot crossed the threshold, she suddenly realized that the subway didn’t allow dangerous items. Bringing the blade to Teacher Wang’s house might raise misunderstandings… So she regretfully put the blade down.

Kui Xin pressed the doorbell at Teacher Wang’s house, and shortly after, familiar footsteps echoed from behind the door.

Teacher Wang opened the door with a smile, but upon seeing Kui Xin, she froze momentarily.

“…Xiao Xin?” Her warm expression revealed a hint of doubt.

“It’s me, Teacher,” Kui Xin replied.

Teacher Wang scrutinized her for a few moments and then, as if awakening from a dream, remarked, “You’ve changed a lot in the few weeks since I last saw you. I almost thought I didn’t recognize you. Come in, come in! Lunch is ready.”

Kui Xin was taken aback and asked as she walked in, “Have I changed a lot? I have grown quite a bit over the past few weeks.”

“Very much so.” Teacher Wang turned back to look at her and said with a smile, “Your features have matured a bit, you’ve slimmed down, grown taller—truly more like an adult now. Most importantly, your aura has changed; it’s like I can hardly recognize you at a glance.”

“Aura?” Kui Xin felt her emotions stir.

Changes happen imperceptibly. Kui Xin looked at her face daily and couldn’t notice any subtle differences, but Teacher Wang, having not seen her for a while, keenly detected her transformation.

Initially, Kui Xin’s body in the First World and the Second World had differences. Primarily, there were distinguishing features in appearance, stemming from differing environments, age, and past bodily experiences, causing their looks not to be identical, but rather approximately seven or eight parts similar. The second difference was in physique: one was that of a newly adult girl, while the other belonged to an adult female warrior—obviously a significant difference.

The last difference was in hairstyle; it’s often said that a hairstyle determines one’s appearance, and it hugely influences a person’s outward image. In the First World, she had long hair, while in the Second World, she had short hair.

As Kui Xin washed her hands in the bathroom, she glanced at herself in the mirror and smirked. After Teacher Wang’s recent reminder, she carefully studied the youthful face in the mirror and realized her changes.

With just a change in hairstyle, her resemblance to her Second World self was nearly a hundred percent.

Kui Xin rubbed her face, deliberately assuming a cold expression.

Now the resemblance truly reached a hundred percent, as if the mirror held the cold-blooded killer trained by the Mechanized Dawn of the Investigation Bureau in the Second World.