Chapter 24: Fishing Part 2

Luo Xian was not like most mothers—gentle and soft as water.

On the contrary, she always gave off a sense of icy detachment.

It was only when facing Yin Luo that it thawed a little.

The woman in the cheongsam stopped a meter away from him and sized him up. “Wang Shen told me you were in good condition today.”

“But I still feel very tired. My whole body is tired.” Yin Luo’s tone was a bit aggrieved and distressed. If the machete-wielding Fierce Ghost whose soul he’d already scattered saw him like this, it might just be scared into a second afterlife.

“You’ll get better.” Luo Xian stroked the youth’s hair. “How did you sleep last night?”

The black-haired youth in the wheelchair smiled gently, his brows soft. “Very well.”

Luo Xian nodded slightly, asking no further questions.

Unless she was in a movie, her expressions were rarely abundant.

In fact, if not for the deceptiveness of her appearance, she would even carry a certain aura of authority.

Only for Yin Luo would she try to compromise.

Hm, just a little.

“Let’s go out for a walk.” The cheongsam-clad woman broke the silence. Sunlight fell on her profile, skin like creamy jade, a beauty breathtakingly stunning.

Wang Shen had said the same thing before she came. But unlike Wang Shen’s inquiring tone, Luo Xian’s words, once spoken, seemed to leave no room for maneuver.

Yin Luo pursed his lips. “I can see it from here too.”

His body was extremely weak; his immune system a model example of work-shirking. The slightest fluctuation could cause it to go on strike, so he generally stayed indoors.

For this reason, Luo Xian had specially built him an indoor glass garden.

Although he wasn’t quite clear what illness he had, it was probably akin to an Alzheimer’s patient—when lucid, he had no choice, and when confused, he had even less.

“It’s to go outside.” The woman extended her hand, turning his wheelchair around so he faced the sunlight again.

“Outside?” Yin Luo’s eyes widened slightly. “I wasn’t carried back in an ambulance, was I?”

“You are recovering, Pearl.” Luo Xian said softly, “A doctor examined you while you were asleep. They told me you’re recovering. Your body is gradually returning to a normal state.”

The black-haired youth was stunned. Thoughts of various reasons flashed through his mind, but ultimately, the greatest possibility lay in that mysterious and unfathomable game.

He was very satisfied with this result.

“Then will you come with me, Mom?” he asked.

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Yin Luo regretted it. If Luo Xian really accompanied him, tomorrow every social media app would probably crash.

If unlucky enough to be photographed, the headline might directly be: Shocking! Superstar Best Actress on a Secret Date with Mysterious Boyfriend—What’s the Real Story?

Sure enough, the woman in the cheongsam gently patted his head. “I still have unfinished business to tend to. I have to leave soon. Let Wang Shen take you out for a walk.”

“Alright then,” Yin Luo said, his tone crestfallen.

Luo Xian was silent for a moment, then said slowly, “The Mid-Autumn Festival is coming soon. I told Zhao Jun to come keep you company in a few days.”

“Zhao Jun?” Yin Luo’s long-unused brain finally caught up. “Uncle?”

The two siblings, one took their mother’s surname, one their father’s. It took Yin Luo a moment to react.

“Hm. You haven’t seen each other for a long time. Since your condition has improved quite a bit, let him take you out for some fresh air.” Luo Xian’s rare tenderness seemed to have run out. “He’s got plenty of free time anyway.”

“Hm, hm, okay.” Yin Luo absolutely dared not raise any objections.

“So well-behaved, Pearl.” Luo Xian sighed. “I’m tired.”

Yin Luo immediately took the hint. “Then, Mom, hurry and go rest, okay? Bye-bye?”

“Goodbye.”

Once the figure in the cheongsam the color of lapis lazuli vanished from sight, Yin Luo’s face reverted to its usual indifference. Mother and son seemed, in certain ways, almost cut from the same cloth.

As if driving a toy car, he tapped the panel on the armrest of his wheelchair with his right hand. The automatic wheelchair immediately followed his will, moving before the desk.

Good thing he remembered this method of operation; otherwise, having to manually roll the wheels would have been a bit embarrassing.

He turned on the computer. His movements were a bit rusty, but it didn’t matter. He’d get proficient later.

This exorbitantly assembled electronic device had been useless here. Even when Yin Luo’s mental state was unstable, Wang Shen used high-definition projection equipment or a portable tablet to play cartoons to capture his attention, never this desktop computer.

Until today, it had never come out of retirement.

Yin Luo studied it for a while, then opened a search engine and began searching for some keywords.

Game, Sinless Abyss, Players, Ghosts.

Unlike ordinary people who would hide and conceal, he wasn’t worried at all that someone with ill intent might harm him or investigate him based on his search history.

He even hesitated slightly about whether to tell Luo Xian. But that strange feeling of a child hiding a new toy from their parents still won out, so he didn’t mention it.

However, as expected, after searching for half the day, there was much information, but nothing he was looking for.

Which made sense. If this information was really so easy to find, he wouldn’t have gone twenty years without hearing a whisper about players.

Yin Luo thought for a moment, then changed his keywords.

“Paranormal Events,” “Ghosts,” “Horror Stories”…

This time, many results popped up that seemed somewhat similar yet not. At first glance, they could be from peers; scrolling to the end, they might be selling books.

Yin Luo was getting annoyed. His patience truly wasn’t great. Moreover, he was no lamb needing the warmth of a flock.

He even had a gut feeling that the last night wouldn’t be his only experience with this game.

Perhaps next time, he wouldn’t be completely in the dark like he was now.

So the black-haired youth decided to make one final effort.

He recalled the player Wei Cong he’d met in the last instance, modeled his tone after that personality, and then posted several threads on the city’s most-trafficked forum:

“I played such a scary game last night wuwuwu. Thinking back, it was terrifying like an abyss. So glad I was a newbie and met a pro who helped me complete the quest. Are there any fellow players in Rongcheng who play this game? Let’s chat and share tips QAQ.”

Yin Luo reviewed this text over and over, added an emoticon, and finally confirmed it was fine before posting.

Staking out the thread for half a day, there were replies, but mostly joking or playing along with memes. Someone even asked if he was selling game ads.

It seems the number of players is still small. Yin Luo sighed. Not holding much hope, he tossed his newly registered throwaway account into the ring and then began his journey on the internet.

Eventually, he became engrossed in the internet.

What game player? What instance mission? How could they be more interesting than the internet?

This continued until the sound of Wang Shen bringing in lunch interrupted him.

“Sigh.” The psychiatrist looked at him like he was an internet-addicted teenager.

Yin Luo was already very exhausted. His body couldn’t support long periods of activity, but at least his brain was fairly reliable. He’d managed to research quite a few new things during the morning.

The youth’s brows were lowered, his expression focused. If not for the anime dialogue Wang Shen heard from the computer speakers, he’d probably have guessed Yin Luo was studying some obscure documents.

Wang Shen: “Time to eat.”

Yin Luo waved his hand dismissively. “Just a moment, let me reply to this message.”

Reluctantly, he paused and exited the browser, only to find the QQ account he’d left signed in had received quite a few new message notifications.

Oh, looks like a fish actually took the bait on a bare hook.

He clicked on the friend request list, filtering and deleting several until he finally found his catch among the chaotic messages.

It was a small, default avatar account, the nickname just a single period. The friend request message was a simple note: “Player.”

You’re the one.

Yin Luo accepted the friend request, then first sent a cute sticker pack he’d just downloaded before typing: “Abyss?”

The other party replied quickly: “1”

After a moment, they sent another message: “Are you a Rongcheng local?”

A bit aloof, this one. Yin Luo continued mimicking Wei Cong’s tone: “Wuwu, yeah. Big bro, are you from Rongcheng too? That’s such a coincidence, so fated!”

“…”

The other party probably felt like they’d walked into a dog café—the moment they entered, a husky pounced on them, smothering them with a vigorous lick. Staggering upright, they’d find several more dogs already eager to jump.

He likely somewhat regretted adding this small account. The speed of his messages slowed considerably. “Are you planning to go to the Rongcheng Dome Mall?”

Yin Luo searched his memory and quickly gave an answer. “Ah? Big bro, why are you asking that? Are you from out of town, bro? Do you want to go sightseeing? I can be your tour guide!”

“…You didn’t accept the Reality Quest?”

Oh, an unfamiliar term.

The youth lowered his eyes, his lashes like raven feathers quivering. He typed with a blank expression: “Ah? There are quests in reality too?”

He wasn’t lying. Mainly, he really wasn’t a player. A lot of information would probably be exposed the moment he spoke.

These players likely had some special communication method in reality. They couldn’t just cast a wide net and sift through one by one like he was doing.

“…”

The other party was probably already disinclined to talk, having been silent for a while.

Yin Luo thought for a moment and continued typing: “But big bro, if you’re going to the Dome Mall, I can help you.”

“How can you help?” Even through text, the other’s distrustful tone was palpable.

Yin Luo: “The Rongcheng Dome Mall, is it? That’s my family’s business.”

Or rather, much of Rongcheng was his family’s business.

Maybe his mother’s, maybe his uncle’s. But the difference was negligible.

“…”

The other party was stunned.

Only after a moment did a new message arrive: “You’re not lying?”

Yin Luo continued his innocent, naive tone: “Ah? Why would I lie about this? I can take you to meet the person in charge, hehe.”

Whether the other party believed him or simply couldn’t be bothered to dig deeper, they finally replied: “Do you have teammates?”

“Wuwu, no.” The black-haired youth spoke casually. “No one wants to team up with me.”

“Why?”

“My health is very poor. I’m also in a wheelchair.”

“…” The other side fell silent again, seemingly wrestling with whether this would be finding a team member or a burden.

But ultimately, probably because illegally breaking into a high-end shopping mall at night in a law-abiding society carried too much risk, plus Yin Luo’s claimed identity was simply too intimidating—likely useful in many ways—the other chose to be diplomatic. “Fine.”

In less than a second, the other party decisively sent a photo.

Inside a dark, cramped space, there was a mess of plastic mannequin limbs and torsos. Countless pairs of lifeless, non-three-dimensional eyes stared directly out of the photograph, as if making eye contact.

Brown rust was everywhere. The atmosphere was extremely eerie. Coupled with the uncanny valley effect and the human-limb-like plastic mannequins, it made one’s hairs stand on end, as if they might come alive the next second.

It was rare for modern malls to have these kinds of plastic mannequins with heads anymore. They looked more like relics from over a decade ago.

But the date on the photograph was clearly marked—it was from just yesterday morning.

Quite interesting.

The other party didn’t waste words and finally said: “If you’ve decided, meet at the Dome Mall’s east entrance at 7 PM tonight. You can check the information beforehand.”

“Hm, hm, I definitely won’t let Big Bro down! See you then~”

After his final reply, Yin Luo turned off the computer.

He finished lunch and, completely out of stamina to stay awake, went to take a nap.

When he woke up, the sunlight was already somewhat dim.

He closed his eyes and contemplated for a moment, then used a sharp, condensed ice shard to suddenly slash his own wrist. Blood droplets fell.

Logically, they should shatter on the ground and bloom into blood flowers.

But the black-haired youth caught them. The blood was slowly drawn out. Extreme cold gas froze the blood into a thread, like silk drawn from a mulberry cocoon.

The Corpse Frost Power solidified the blood thread into the toughest steel wire. With just a gentle wave of his finger and a slightly faster plucking speed, it could easily slice through human skin.

And because it was his own blood, Yin Luo wielded it with ease.

With this, as long as it wasn’t a player of Lin Yujing’s level, his basic safety was guaranteed.

“Plan works out.” Yin Luo was very satisfied.

Since the doctors’ examination said going out for a short while would be fine, naturally, he wanted to go out and find something interesting.

An opportunity had simply come knocking right at his door.

He summoned Wang Shen, told him he wanted to go out for a spin, and even discussed what items they needed to bring.

Like a Fierce Ghost mingling among humans, he hummed a tune as he went off to find his playmates.