Chapter 79 – Artificial Soul 06
“What measures do you have to ensure confidentiality?” Kui Xin frowned, “With the current climate, I’m sure no one is willing to reveal their true identity. If players contact each other, they will inevitably need to use the internet and modern communication tools. Any skilled hacker could easily access player information.”
“We’ve thought about this too,” Yuan Lu said seriously. “Have you seen any related informational posts about the encrypted network technology in the Second World on the forum?”
Kui Xin replied, “I have.”
“Yu Qiwen wants to develop a similar program. We can create a closed encrypted website, mimicking the game’s beta forum, accessible only to those who have passed the correct verification. Like an encrypted network, our communications would leave no trace online and would be automatically deleted,” Yuan Lu explained. “The specific technical principles seem to involve advanced applications from the Second World. I’m not an expert, but Yu Qiwen is quite confident.”
“If it were me, I wouldn’t join,” Kui Xin stated bluntly. “Because I can’t trust a website of unknown origin. You might be trying to collect my information under the guise of a website. To be honest, if you hadn’t approached me, I would have continued my stable and peaceful life, without getting involved with the players.”
Yuan Lu said with a headache, “We really have no better options. We can’t expect everyone to trust us, but we can’t just stand still in the face of the current situation. When will we ever form a real alliance if we keep worrying? If we are afraid of taking a step, whether it’s exposing ourselves or facing dangers, we may end up not stepping forward at all. The fear is the biggest obstacle for players moving towards unity.”
“Most people in the world dare not pin their lives on others’ sense of morality,” Kui Xin said. “It’s just human instinct.”
“I seriously suspect that the game officials are targeting us… Think about it, every new rule they introduce is aimed at creating divisions among players. The game seems to offer us choices—whether to accept or not—yet, in reality, our options are quite limited… The game officials appear to be deliberately showcasing mercy, which is extremely hypocritical,” Yuan Lu said anxiously. “I know such actions are difficult to earn trust, but do we really have any other choice?”
Kui Xin pondered, “Indeed, this is another serious dilemma. It’s a choice between forming an alliance or remaining stagnant. Forming an alliance entails risks, while remaining stagnant guarantees no change.”
“Do you want to join, Kui Xin?” Yuan Lu asked.
“Well… I think I’ll wait and see,” Kui Xin responded, reasonably adopting the role of a cautious citizen, neither rushing to pioneer nor being the last one left standing.
She said, “I want to be an ordinary person, staying away from those matters. My life in the Second World has been relatively stable, and I am about to step into a wonderful university life in the First World. I feel safe.”
Yuan Lu sighed. “Fine, I knew it. Just contact us if you encounter any trouble.”
After hanging up, Kui Xin fell into deep thought.
The alliance among players involves too many details; Yuan Lu, Yu Qiwen, and Xie Gankqing must have discussed them extensively. Kui Xin didn’t inquire about these details in depth, as she only projected the image of a somewhat intelligent student wanting to avoid trouble.
After the players form an alliance, what rules will they establish? How will they verify each other’s identities? How will they determine who is trustworthy? How will they ensure information security? All these questions need to be addressed.
Yuan Lu implied that they wanted to build an equal cooperative relationship with other players…
But from the start of the alliance, their relationship with other players was destined to be unequal.
They knew the identities of other players, while the others did not know theirs, which was inherently unfair. This unfairness could easily breed suspicion and conflict. As tensions mounted, the alliance could easily collapse from within.
Kui Xin considered for a long time, pondering what she should do next and how to respond to such internal and external troubles.
She was good at introspection and understood her needs quite well. At that moment, she thought—if only she could know the identities of all players.
If she could know everyone’s identity, she could identify who was a mole bought by the Second World, who was trying to infiltrate the player group for personal gain, and who posed a threat to her.
Unfortunately, it was a pity. Kui Xin had information; she had strength, but lacked the technology and means to connect the players.
If only she possessed hacking skills like Yu Qiwen’s, she could have taken the initiative, filtered out suspicious individuals, and nipped potential dangers in the bud.
She had this thought, but she could not act.
At least not now.
She had not grasped enough information; the chaotic situation had yet to settle, and many things remained unclear. Most importantly, her identity as a Remover posed the greatest obstacle to her actions, and that identity was the hardest to conceal.
Once the situation clarified and the murky waters settled somewhat, allowing for fewer variables, Kui Xin could then begin to formulate her next plan.
Before deciding to act, she needed to become an observer, calmly watching changes and analyzing the situation.
When she returned to the Second World next time, would there be more opportunities?
…
Over the next few days, around 18:01 each evening, the mirage of the Second World would appear in the sky.
The duration of the mirage, which initially lasted for a brief fifteen to twenty seconds, gradually extended to thirty seconds, and eventually became forty-five seconds.
One evening, Kui Xin arrived at the window ten minutes early. She had bought a new smartphone two days earlier, which had a high memory capacity and pixels, and she planned to use it to record the mirage in the sky.
She set an alarm on her old phone while raising the new one, turning on the video recording function directed at the sky.
Kui Xin watched the clouds dyed red, counting seconds in her mind. Finally, the six o’clock alarm rang on time. She always set her alarm a bit earlier to give herself some reaction time.
When the six o’clock alarm went off, Kui Xin switched on the video recording.
At precisely 18:01, the city mirage appeared on time, and the scene in the sky was recorded entirely on her phone. After a while, the mirage vanished.
Kui Xin stopped the recording and sat at her desk, looking down to check the video she had recorded.
The appearance of the mirage followed a pattern; over the past six days of her observation, the mirage in the sky had consistently appeared at 18:01 without exception. Moreover, each time it appeared, its duration lengthened by a few seconds, from fifteen seconds to forty-five seconds—a significant leap.
After reviewing her recording, noting the exact time of the mirage’s appearance and disappearance, she noticed with gravity that today it had lasted fifty-five seconds, nearly reaching a full minute.
With the passage of days, would the city mirage forever remain in the sky of the First World? Ultimately, would the cities of the Second World transition from being ethereal to solid, merging with the First World?
The appearance of the city mirage stirred quite a commotion worldwide. Some claimed the end of the world was approaching, urging people to stockpile food, guns, and build shelters to weather the apocalypse. Initially, some thought the sky’s city mirage was a natural phenomenon caused by optical refraction, but they couldn’t correlate the mirage with any major city on the planet. Days later, a group of people started speculating that the sea mirage was actually a glimpse into another world or a parallel dimension.
The city mirage brought more than just these changes to the First World.
In a short amount of time, grain prices surged, oil prices rose, stocks experienced volatility, and incidents of armed robbery increased, while sales of civilian weapons had a significant uptick. Meteorologists and relevant scholars across various countries had to step forward and issue dishonest statements, telling the public that these mirages were false and that the apocalypse was not possible.
They had to lie to the public, pacifying their emotions to stabilize the situation and ensure social order. However, these statements had little impact; chaos continued in troubled areas, and anyone with clarity could see the abnormalities in the series of events.
Kui Xin saw a post from foreign netizens in a forum, mentioning that they lived by the sea and could often spot military exercises in the water and military aircraft flying over the city.
This morning, when Kui Xin went to the market to buy groceries, she experienced the effects of the sea mirage on her daily life as the prices of vegetables, fruits, and meat all increased somewhat.
Fortunately, food prices were still regulated and didn’t increase significantly; the supply of food remained ample, and there were no issues with buying groceries.
It’s also worth mentioning that after the sea mirage event, several attention-seeking clowns spread panic online and were quickly tracked down by the authorities, and they were likely already in custody.
Today marked the sixth day; tomorrow would be the seventh day, August 9th.
Kui Xin would return to the First World promptly at midnight.
After dinner, Kui Xin received a call from Su Rong.
“Hello? Sister Xin Xin…” Su Rong hesitated and said, “My dad is working out of town, and my mom has an urgent business trip these days. She’s worried about me staying home alone. In the past, I used to stay at my aunt’s place during such situations, but my aunt just had a baby, and the baby is really noisy. I don’t want to go there, but… but…”
“What’s the matter, are you scared to stay home alone?” Kui Xin asked.
“Sigh, I was wondering if you could stay at my house for one night tomorrow? My bed is super big! You can teach me at my house and not leave afterward, please stay!” Su Rong pleaded, “How about it?”
But tomorrow happened to be the day she would return to the Second World. Was Su Rong inviting her because she was afraid of being alone?
Kui Xin paused for a moment before agreeing, “Okay.”
She agreed because this time, it wasn’t like the last episode where she faced the Scythe Demon right away; this time, she would be sleeping safely in her home on Peaceful Street, lying in bed comfortably.
Su Rong’s mom took good care of Kui Xin, and she was a player; Kui Xin indeed had an idea of wanting to deepen her relationship with her.
“Awesome!” Su Rong said happily. “Don’t forget to bring your pajamas when you come to teach me tomorrow!”
