Chapter 7 - 7 5 The Death of Han Luo

7: Chapter 5: The Death of Han Luo 7: Chapter 5: The Death of Han Luo There’s no doubt, this game must have hidden dangers! The thought had barely arisen in Xiao Jie’s mind before he found it inescapable. But what danger could there be in playing a game? Games aren’t reality, and even if you’re killed by a monster, you don’t actually die. Besides, if you die, just start over—no, wait! Damn it! Xiao Jie suddenly remembered something, it seemed this game didn’t allow for do-overs. After Han Luo died, he couldn’t resurrect or even create a new account. Xiao Jie had found it strange before, but now, recalling the bizarre occurrences where game skills could be transferred into reality, he immediately made an unsettling connection. If the game could directly affect the player’s body and endow the player with abilities they didn’t possess before. Then, could it be that negative events in the game would also affect the player, like—death! No! That can’t be right! How could such preposterous things happen in the world… Xiao Jie muttered to himself, trying hard to calm down. However, the shadow in his heart grew increasingly unsettling. If transferring game skills into reality could indeed happen, then dying in the game resulting in real death seemed logically consistent. The more I try not to think about it, the more I can’t help but link these elements together. No, I need to find Han Luo quickly! Xiao Jie abandoned the idea of buying fruits and dashed toward the Sea Sky Restaurant. As Xiao Jie ran into the Sea Sky Restaurant, Han Luo had just finished a meal, patting his belly while belching contentedly. “Ah, that was satisfying. It’s been a while since I’ve eaten my fill. Huh, Xiao, what brings you back here? Where’s the fruit?” Xiao Jie breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing Han Luo’s condition. Thank goodness, nothing’s wrong. It must have just been his imagination, right? “How are you feeling?” he asked with concern. “How am I feeling? Oh, you mean the meal? It was great, though I… hmm? What’s that…?” Han Luo’s expression suddenly shifted, his gaze turning to something behind Xiao Jie. “What is it?” Xiao Jie glanced back, but there was nothing there. “Something doesn’t feel quite right. I feel…” Han Luo turned deathly pale as if he sensed something. He fumbled around, his expression turning frantic as he stood up from his seat and began to back away. “Something’s really wrong, Xiao, I—ah!” A piercing scream suddenly erupted from Han Luo, and then Xiao Jie witnessed a scene that filled him with terror. An invisible force ripped open Han Luo’s belly silently, as if an unseen blade was slicing through his flesh. One cut… two cuts… three cuts… The abdomen, the diaphragm, the chest. Blood was splattered everywhere, entrails spilled out, and one could even see white bone fragments through a tear in the chest. Blood splashed onto Xiao Jie’s face, scalding hot. Han Luo clutched at his wounds, screaming in fear, his face twisted in horror and pain, “Xiao… save me… save me, please.” He reached out to Xiao Jie, and the next second, the screams stopped abruptly. Han Luo’s head flew off; a fountain of blood spurted from the severed neck. His head rolled to Xiao Jie’s feet, eyes wide with fear and pain. The headless body collapsed to the ground. Xiao Jie stared at Han Luo’s face on the ground, his mind a blank void, as if trapped in a nightmare. For a few seconds, he even felt an urge to slap himself awake. He touched his face, only to feel the sticky blood. Just as he had presumed, death in the game meant death in reality. His speculation was true… Screams of terror from other patrons filled the surroundings, but he heard nothing, standing completely frozen in place. ———————— “Name?” “Xiao Jie.” “Age?” “Twenty-eight.” “Profession?” “Game studio director.” The police officer across the interrogation table looked at him in surprise and wrote down “freelancer” on the paper. “What was your relationship with the deceased?” “He was my employee, my—friend.” Xiao Jie said painfully. He still couldn’t believe that Han Luo had died, the guy who was always cheerful, the die-hard who wanted to stick with him even after the studio had dissolved. He still remembered what Han Luo had said when he stayed—”As long as I, this one employee, am here, the studio remains a studio, and you’re still the boss. But if I also left, then you’d be all alone. Don’t worry, Xiao, from now on I’ll be with you. Together we’ll grow the studio stronger and reach new heights.” A sad smile appeared on Xiao Jie’s lips, but it was soon interrupted by the questioning from across the table. “Do you have anything to say regarding the cause of the deceased’s death?” Xiao Jie looked up at the police officer, opened his mouth, but did not know where to begin. Because he died in the game, he died in reality too? Just thinking about this in his mind, he knew how absurd it sounded. Would the other party believe it? Could he be considered mentally ill? But otherwise, how could he explain it? Or should he just play dumb? As he hesitated on how to begin, the door to the interrogation room suddenly opened. A man wearing a black windbreaker walked in. “That’s enough, Officer Li. From now on, I’ll take over here,” the man said. The interrogating officer was somewhat dissatisfied. However, when the figure of the director appeared behind the man and nodded at him, the officer could only leave the room with a stern face. The door to the interrogation room closed. The man in the black windbreaker sat down directly across from Xiao Jie, picked up the file on the desk, glanced at it casually, shook his head, and carelessly tossed the file aside. “Smoke?” he offered while pulling out a cigarette and extending it toward Xiao Jie. Xiao Jie politely shook his head. The man in the black windbreaker didn’t seem to mind, putting the cigarette back in the pack and then leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and staring at Xiao Jie’s face for several minutes, as if trying to dig out hidden information from Xiao Jie’s stiff and sorrowful face. Just as Xiao Jie was starting to get annoyed by the staring, the man in black suddenly sat upright. “Mr. Xiao, is it? Let me guess, you guys played a game before,” he ventured. Xiao Jie’s heart skipped a beat, and he abruptly lifted his head. His intuition told him that the other party must know the inside story of the matter. “That’s right, a game called ‘Old Soil’,” he stated carefully, watching the other’s face, which remained impassive, revealing no emotion. “Your friend died in the game?” Xiao Jie was nearly certain now; the other party indeed knew the hidden truth of the game. “Yes, so does my friend’s death have something to do with that game?” he asked tentatively, trying not to appear complicit. The man’s face displayed a sly expression, “Didn’t anyone tell you the taboo of this game?” “Taboo? What taboo?” The man in the black windbreaker didn’t explain but continued to inquire, “So how did you get your game activation codes?” “Someone I knew gave it to me,” Xiao Jie said, picturing Liu Qiang’s smug face in his mind. “Didn’t your acquaintance tell you what this game was about?” “No, he just said the game was very fun and would change our lives. In fact, he said that to Han Luo, who brought back the activation code.” The man displayed an ‘I knew it’ expression, “It seems like your acquaintance doesn’t have a great relationship with you guys, buddy. You’ve been set up.” Xiao Jie had already roughly figured this out on the way to the police station; Liu Qiang giving them these two activation codes was clearly not with good intentions, probably expecting them to die in the game. In such a difficult game, if players ventured out of the village without knowing the penalty for death, they would likely die on their first exploration. He had survived only because, seeing that Han Luo couldn’t resurrect after dying, he prematurely ended the exploration and narrowly escaped disaster. “Liu Qiang…!” Xiao Jie muttered the name in his mind, and his expression twisted with it. He asked through clenched teeth, “What is going on here?” The man in black, arms still folded, looked at Xiao Jie’s twisted face, seeming to understand something. He sighed, and then proceeded to explain.