Chapter 25: The All Living Beings Forum

In the coffee shop at the east entrance of the Dome Mall’s first floor, soft music played, conversations were a hushed murmur, and young couples outside the glass windows held hands, their smiles bright.

“I think you’ve been scammed,” said a boy wearing a baseball cap, seated in a corner booth. He took a sip of the coffee he’d ordered at great expense and was immediately grimacing from the bitterness.

Sitting across from him was a boy about the same age, looking like a college student. His hair was cut in a buzz cut, which made him appear more mature. Every so often, he glanced at his phone, typing with two fingers, seemingly struggling.

Seeing that he wasn’t getting a reply, Zhang Hengheng simply snatched the milk from beside the other’s hand and poured it into his own coffee. “You know how small the probability of this is, Ying Zixin?”

“Someone triggered a Reality Quest at the Dome Mall. With so many players in Rongcheng, it just had to force us two unlucky devils, who were about to start school, into a mandatory Reality Quest. Dammit, we were just passing through Rongcheng station on the high-speed rail, ah.”

“And this is a high-speed train! We could still get off at the stop. Dammit, if we were on a plane, could I just skydive out?!”

Zhang Hengheng grew increasingly agitated as he spoke. He took off his cap, scratched his messy hair, then put it back on fiercely. “The quest location is the famous Dome Mall in the center of Rongcheng. Then you, an old fogey who rarely goes online, happened to browse and see a post from what seemed like a local Rongcheng player. The guy was also super naive, calling himself a newbie with mobility issues and claiming the Dome Mall was his family’s.”

“It’s his family’s business,” Ying Zixin corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, his family’s business.” The boy in the baseball cap looked up at the upscale mall with its dome made of countless pieces of colored glass, and at the luxury brands on the first floor—brands even a straight guy like him could recognize a few words of. He secretly rolled his eyes.

There was nothing left to say.

Ying Zixin was a stubborn one. If he said they’d wait until seven-thirty, they absolutely wouldn’t leave at seven twenty-nine.

The only saving grace was that it was still early, and there was still some breathing room before the time mandated by the game. That was why he could sit peacefully in this ridiculously expensive coffee shop.

The buzz-cut boy across from him didn’t even lift his head. “You have time to complain, so search for some information instead.”

“As if I could find anything. The information I found has nothing to do with the hints the game gave. Who just relies on Baidu or Google to do quests nowadays!” Zhang Hengheng scratched his head and ears, feeling like the last half hour of a math exam, staring at a largely blank test paper. Even if forced… he still couldn’t do anything.

“This internet friend you’ve known for just a few hours better really be a Rongcheng local, or else when we meet, I’ll give him a punch!”

The probability of a Reality Quest was low, but because someone triggered one, the game would detect it and then issue it to players in the same region based on difficulty. Usually, aside from the trigger, players could freely choose whether to accept. But sometimes, like for the two unlucky ones, it was mandatory.

Although Reality Quests were less difficult than Instance Quests, the surface-level rewards were also fewer. Players keen on doing Reality Quests mostly came for the hidden benefits.

Like the game giving more information for the next Instance Quest, or a more convenient identity within the instance, and so on.

However, that doesn’t mean being forced off a high-speed train you’d barely managed to snag a ticket for, dragging your luggage, was a pleasant experience!

Zhang Hengheng grit his teeth and downed the stupidly ordered Americano in one gulp.

Couldn’t be helped. It was the cheapest.

He searched for some more info on the Dome Mall. No missing persons, no paranormal events.

Instead, his eyes were dazzled by the hateful faces of capitalists. His mind was full of what top-tier brand had moved in, or how many billions were invested in this and that. Nothing related to creepy plastic mannequins came up.

“You’re still chatting with him?” Zhang Hengheng asked.

“Hm.” Ying Zixin said, “He’s asking me what the [Forum] is.”

“He doesn’t even know the forum??” The baseball cap’s eyes widened, as if someone in this day and age was asking what a cell phone was. “Is he really a player? You didn’t get tricked by an ordinary person, did you?”

“He knows about the game Sinless Abyss.”

“Then he should be one.” Zhang Hengheng scratched his cheek. The game’s rules transcended reality. No one but personally participating players could utter the game’s name under its rules.

But he was still puzzled. “Then why doesn’t he know about the forum? How did he get through the Novice Instance?”

“He fainted his way through. He said when he first entered, his health was bad, his stamina poor, and he often passed out.” Ying Zixin said, reading the messages sent by the other. “But there happened to be a veteran player hiding their strength in the same instance. He basically just coasted to a win.”

“Ha?”

Zhang Hengheng was instantly filled with respect. Sometimes luck was also a form of strength. With luck of that caliber, having an extra mascot on the team wasn’t a bad thing.

“Then tell him to go register on the All Living Beings Forum. It’ll make quest sharing easier.”

“Hm, I’m teaching him,” Ying Zixin said.

“Big Bro, there’s a traffic jam here, so annoying. Wait for me, I’ll be there soon, QAQ.” Yin Luo typed this message with a blank expression, then followed the other’s instructions and went to search for the All Living Beings Forum.

Sure enough, players had their own unique methods of communication.

According to the other person, the game possessed the same unique power in the real world. Part of it manifested in a game official APP that only players returning from Instance Worlds could find—the All Living Beings Game APP, commonly referred to by players simply as the forum.

In the previous instance, Yin Luo hadn’t heard the other players mention this term. Of course, it was also possible they had mentioned it when he just wasn’t listening—after all, eavesdropping every day was tiring. And due to the instance’s restrictions, he’d needed a lot of time for sleep.

Yin Luo didn’t care whether the other believed his fabricated excuses or not. As long as he could obtain information, it was pure profit.

The game seemed quite comprehensive after all. Besides the unique game arenas, it even had an official APP.

Honestly, Yin Luo’s actions were highly risky. He didn’t have the same home-field advantage as he did in the last Instance World. The player he was meeting could have an unknown personality and might very well be stronger than him.

But someone willing to engage with a newbie player modeled after Wei Cong, mixed with a bit of Yan Shanque’s tone, and saddled with the debuff of mobility issues—the person on the other end of this QQ account was probably no villain.

At the very least, a pawn used to scout ahead couldn’t also be a dead weight or a troublemaker.

Yin Luo opened his phone’s app store and searched for the All Beings APP. He actually found it.

Did that mean the game actually recognized him as a player?

Or did he possess some trait identical to players, causing him to be treated as one?

The APP downloaded very quickly. Yin Luo even suspected this thing could download without an internet connection.

The icon was somewhat eerie. Black lines outlined a twisted pattern, vaguely resembling an eye. A gap was left in the middle blank space, like it had been slashed open by something, carrying an inexplicable religious undertone.

Yin Luo couldn’t figure out any hidden meaning. He simply took note of the icon.

Blood flow quickened, a flush rising in his cheeks. His heart was filled with excitement and eagerness.

He felt he was getting closer to the truth, step by step.

Yin Luo tentatively clicked on it, half-expecting time and space to warp instantly, for him to suddenly appear in a sci-fi styled room, and for a display screen in front of him to pop up with a line like “Welcome, player, to the Reincarnation Space.”

But no. He was still sitting in the back seat of the car. Outside the window, lights were a blur. In the front sat the silent, stoic driver, and Wang Shen, who occasionally checked on his condition through the rearview mirror.

Text did pop up, but it appeared on his phone screen. White text on a black background, clean and clear: [First login requires entering a nickname].

[Note: Your nickname will become your codename in multi-player shared quests. Please choose carefully.]

A small line of text was written below—[All rights of interpretation of this APP belong to the Sinless Abyss].

Accompanied by the eye logo.

Yin Luo was momentarily speechless.

He found this question rather difficult. Just as he was about to randomly think of one, the app suddenly went black, a new pop-up window appearing: [You have not operated for a long period. A nickname is being randomly generated for you].

???

Your definition of “long period” is five seconds?!

Yin Luo exhaled, waiting to see what kind of nonsense this unreliable APP had cooked up for him.

[Dear Player Alice, congratulations on successfully registering this APP. This APP’s mission is to provide all players with the highest quality and most considerate service. Please choose whether to skip the newbie tutorial.]

“…”

His grip was so tight his knuckles turned white, the phone emitting slight creaking sounds under the pressure.

Highest quality and most considerate service?

Boring. Delete it.

“What’s wrong?” Wang Shen turned back to ask, suddenly feeling a chill inside the car.

“Hehe, nothing. A friend sent me a terrible joke,” Yin Luo said.

“Is that so?” Wang Shen looked at his young boss’s expression and swallowed his words back down.

“What?” The boy in the baseball cap slapped the table, raising his voice. “What did you say his name is?”

“Alice.”

“Say that again?”

“…Alice.”

“BWAHAHAHAHA!” The baseball cap howled with laughter, doubling over, tears practically streaming down his face. “Now I believe he’s a newbie player. Hahaha, definitely another poor soul screwed over by the forum.”

Even the perpetually deadpan Ying Zixin couldn’t help the corners of his mouth twitching. He coughed dryly, struggling to regain his composure. “Although forum nicknames can be changed periodically, randomly generated ones are always tied to some specific characteristic of the user. So we shouldn’t underestimate him.”

“That’s true. Still better than names like ‘Idiot’ or ‘Coward’. Although, I wonder which Alice this ‘Alice’ is referencing. The nickname does seem quite unique.” Baseball cap spread his hands. “Shared the quest yet?”

Ying Zixin: “Let’s wait until we meet the person.”

“Fair enough.”

With that, both fell silent. As players who had already cleared several instances, they naturally didn’t lack this bit of patience.

At seven twenty-nine, as a sudden hush fell over the coffee shop, the person finally arrived, fashionably late.

“Hello, sorry for being a bit late.”

The newcomer’s voice was soft, like a piano note heard upon waking from a lazy afternoon nap—feather-light across the heart.

The boy in the baseball cap, who had finally grimaced his way through the last of his black coffee and was preparing to mercilessly mock this “Alice”, looked up and felt his voice die in his throat.

The new player was around their age, perhaps even younger. His skin was an exceptionally rare pale shade, as if untouched by sunlight for years, fragile enough to shatter at a touch.

Unlike the boisterous impression he gave on QQ, the new player in reality had a calm, gentle disposition. His eyelashes were very long, fluttering like butterfly wings when they moved, half-hiding pupils like black jade.

It made one desperately curious to discover what kind of exquisite, skillfully crafted face lay hidden beneath his mask.

He sat in a wheelchair, slowly pushed forward. It was as if a stunning, priceless jewel—the star lot of a top-tier auction—was slowly rising from the lift platform, then unveiled to the crowd.