NOVEL NEXT WORLD Chapter 27
Chapter 27: The Sea Without Light
Kui Xin snapped out of her trance.
She jumped off the bed, didn’t even put on slippers, and rushed to the window, pulling the curtains open with force. In the shabby old neighborhood, only one streetlamp was still lit, stubbornly providing light for those returning home late at night.
Under the dim streetlight, the outline of trash cans was blurry. Cracks marred the stone tile streets. Surveillance cameras silently watched over the neighborhood. Everything was quiet and still; there was no one around.
As if it were just another ordinary night, people returned home, slept, and waited for the sun to rise to have breakfast and start their routine lives.
But Kui Xin knew that the seven days of adventure she had experienced weren’t a dream—they truly happened to her.
Kui Xin held her breath and whispered silently in her heart, “System?”
The game interface’s luminescent screen flickered instantly.
Her skill introduction and extraordinary abilities acquired during the journey were displayed perfectly, and the investigation progress for the port bombing case unexpectedly rose to 25%. All the information was clearly visible.
Kui Xin gasped, feeling a sudden stop in her heartbeat.
She had returned to the First World but could still summon the game interface. Whether entering the game world or returning to reality, the game system accompanied her… Could the boundary between the game and reality still be so clear?
No holographic game was as real as “Crimson Soil,” Kui Xin knew. That world was real, but she had to treat it like a game, desperately finding ways to pass through it. The game system was one of the signs helping her distinguish between game and reality, reinforcing her belief and preventing her from getting lost.
But now, she also had a game system in the real world!
People can easily separate games from their lives because things from the game can’t be brought into reality, and vice versa. In games, characters could be resurrected after dying; players could mercilessly kill NPCs without psychological burdens, whereas in the real world, everyone is normal and wouldn’t do such deeds.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as I thought…” Kui Xin murmured softly.
She walked to her desk, pulled out an art knife from her stationery bag, and without hesitation, cut her finger.
Blood leaked out, and within two seconds, the wound healed!
This time, Kui Xin completely lost any sense of luck. After leaving the Second World, her ability to regenerate flesh was still present.
The boundary between the game and reality was broken! The abilities gained in the game were still effective in the real world. The line between reality and illusion, game and reality, became blurred.
This was equivalent to Kui Xin initially playing “Cyber Online.” But when she exited the game, she discovered the game system had followed her out into the real world, making her current reality become like “Earth Online.” The world had turned into a game.
The First and Second Worlds were two playgrounds!
Worse yet, “Cyber Online” wasn’t just for single-player gaming—it was multiplayer. There wasn’t just Kui Xin; many other players were involved. The more people playing “Cyber Online,” the more playing “Earth Online.”
If other players also gained extraordinary abilities in the Second World, they would carry these abilities back to the First World.
Kui Xin vaguely foresaw that the awakening of extraordinary abilities by players tonight would cause a huge impact on the order of the First World.
She took a few steps back, sat on the bed, and retrieved a silver card from the bedside table.
The words on the card were starkly clear: “Remover · Kui Xin. Number: 233.”
It felt like an ID card, an identity marker. The “Remover” was a profession, Kui Xin was her true name, and the number was like the ID number on a document. From the moment she received this silver card, things felt off.
It was like a passport, granting Kui Xin the qualifications to穿梭 worlds.
Kui Xin set down the card, picked up the extinguished phone beside her pillow, and entered the lock screen password.
The phone screen lit up, showing the current time as July 27th, 00:02.
She entered the game at midnight and exited at midnight. After spending seven days in the game, it seemed like nothing had moved in the real world.
The chat groups of some classmates who stayed up late were bustling with messages scrolling past. Kui Xin saw their conversation was related to the “Crimson Soil,” and they wanted the official release to begin the second batch of beta tests as soon as possible.
Playing games? They meant risking their lives.
Kui Xin forced a bitter smile.
She paused and logged into the forums for the “Crimson Soil” beta testers.
A grim list of survivors flashed before her eyes: 9,630 names.
After a week in the Second World, more than three hundred out of ten thousand players had died.
After crossing over, Kui Xin’s opening was strong, walking on a tightrope with the constant threat of danger. Zejian’s opening was also strong, but if Zejian had stayed in a mental institution, he might have lived peacefully all along. Another player, Xi Liang, had a normal beginning, but he faced challenges such as poverty and car accidents, which put him at risk.
Kui Xin believed that those who died right after obtaining strong abilities were few. Even so, more than three hundred players out of ten thousand had died, each behind a life.
She scrolled down the forum, her fingers stilled, and her pupils constricted. Her heart beat as fast as when she entered the First World again.
Three officially marked posts were highlighted at the top of the posts, titled with simple text.
First Post: List of Fallen Players Disclosed.
Second Post: Explanation of Player Occupations.
Third Post: Introduction to Basic Rules.
Without pausing to read the discussions, Kui Xin clicked on the first post immediately.
At the top of the thread, there was a long and continuously scrolling list of names—only the players’ numbers and death times were disclosed, not their real names.
It felt like an obituary, yet it carried a mysterious and inexplicable undertone.
Proxy 1, deceased on July 27th. Proxy 16, deceased on July 27th. Proxy 536…
Kui Xin scanned quickly and found that most deaths happened in the first two days after entering the game. Afterward, the number of deaths gradually decreased, possibly because players started adapting and hiding after understanding the rules of the Second World.
Suddenly, amidst that scrolling list, a different text emerged prominently due to its length:
“Proxy 1368 was killed by the Remover 233 on July 29,” it stated.
Kui Xin widened her eyes in shock.
Remover 233 was herself! How could the game official have publicly announced her killing of Zejian!
Kui Xin felt dizzy.
After exiting the post, she glanced at the forum homepage and noticed dozens of posts in various languages mentioning ‘233.’ Many had question marks and exclamation points in their titles, and some directly ended in a string of both punctuation marks.
When she refreshed, more posts containing ‘233’ kept popping up.
Kui Xin could understand Chinese posts—several on the homepage were even about her!
“Who is Remover 233?”
“Why did Remover 233 kill their own people?”
“Is Remover 233 a madman with antisocial tendencies? Don’t make mistakes, he’s killed people! This isn’t a game; we’ve entered a real world full of living souls!”
“Aren’t you kidding me? I worked my butt off in the Second World for a few days, acting like a drone with no room for error. Remover 233 is a monster, starting with killing others, even his fellow countrymen.”
Kui Xin covered her forehead and paced to calm her mind.
No panic; panicking would get her nowhere. She had yet to read half of the official posts—she must complete those first; these often contained the most critical details.
Kui Xin went to the kitchen, poured cold water into a cup, gulped it down, and waited until her thoughts cooled and her mind calmed down. Then, she opened the second post: explanations of player occupations.
At the top of the page: “There are two main professions in this game.”
“Remover: A professional who gains strength by hunting special ability users and stripping them of their Extraordinary Abilities.”
“Removers cannot awaken Extraordinary Abilities on their own or gain power from elixirs that contain special forces. The only way Removers increase power is by stripping, taking abilities away from all except themselves. The Extraordinary Abilities stripped from others cannot be upgraded; Removers must hunt down other ability users of the same type to advance.”
“Proxy: A human traversing the world to gain powers媲