Chapter 56: To the End of the World
Opening his eyes again, Tang Yu’an found himself outside the corporation building.
The familiar scene almost made him think he had traveled back in time, if it weren’t for the unsettling emptiness around him.
He looked around, unsure if he was truly in the virtual world.
It felt incredibly real. If it weren’t for the system preserving his memories, he wouldn’t have suspected a thing.
He entered the building, seeing rows of employees, each surrounded by giant monitors displaying streams of incomprehensible data.
Their hands flew across the keyboards, their eyes glued to the screens, like machines.
He walked past them; no one noticed him, everyone absorbed in their work.
Finally, he found Wei Langxing’s workstation – by the window, with a view of the greenery outside, but Wei Langxing’s eyes were fixed on the screen, oblivious to his presence.
Calling his name, touching his arm, nothing worked. They were in different worlds.
Desperate, Tang Yu’an picked up Wei Langxing’s monitor and smashed it on the floor.
Wei Langxing froze, his hands still hovering over the keyboard, his expression blank.
After a long pause, he blinked slowly, like a rebooting robot, finally looking at Tang Yu’an: “Why are you disrupting my work?”
Tang Yu’an gripped his arms, forcing him to make eye contact: “Wei Langxing, do you remember who I am?”
Wei Langxing replied: “You’re the new employee.”
“I’m not!” Tang Yu’an said urgently. “Listen, you’re not an employee either, this isn’t real life, it’s a virtual world, someone tampered with your memory! Wei Langxing, do you understand?”
Wei Langxing replied mechanically: “I’m not Wei Langxing, I’m Employee 672. You’re disrupting my work.”
He resembled a low-level AI stuck in a loop. Then, an idea occurred to Tang Yu’an.
If Wei Langxing was like a robot, could he be upgraded like one, through learning?
He checked his wristband; its contents were also here, quite convenient.
“I’m not joking, your name is Wei Langxing, you’re a Bureau captain.” He removed the memory chip from his wristband. “This is the proof, take a look, maybe it will jog your memory.”
Wei Langxing took the chip without protest.
Learning was beneficial for work, according to his programming.
Tang Yu’an had expected him to connect it to a computer, but Wei Langxing simply tilted his head, revealing a port near his jawline, and inserted the chip!
Tang Yu’an: “…”
He really was a robot now.
Wei Langxing closed his eyes, scanning the data, saying in a monotone: “Detected ‘Learning Materials’ folder. Commencing learning.”
Tang Yu’an remembered that Xie Cun had sent him that folder, claiming it contained important Bureau regulations.
But he had been too busy preparing for the mission to open it.
Since it was from a Bureau officer, perhaps it would trigger Wei Langxing’s memories.
After a few seconds, Wei Langxing opened his eyes, saying: “Learning complete. 1164 films categorized as ‘Romance’ processed.”
Tang Yu’an: “?”
He should have known Xie Cun couldn’t be trusted!
“Um, I wasn’t clear, you don’t have to… learn those. There are also our chat logs inside. My name is Tang Yu’an, you can take a look…”
But Wei Langxing wasn’t the same blank slate he had been moments ago. He said: “I think I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Tang Yu’an was overjoyed: “Yes! You have! We know each other!”
He wanted to shake him, to jolt his memory loose: “Think harder, do you remember anything?”
But Wei Langxing shook his head: “My memory is blank.”
Tang Yu’an: “…”
“Then what did you mean by ‘seen you somewhere before’?”
Wei Langxing replied calmly: “In 349 out of 1164 films, the protagonist uses that phrase as an opening line. According to statistics, the success rate is 67%, significantly higher than the second most popular line, ‘I’d like to buy you a drink.'”
Tang Yu’an: “…”
So he had been used as a test subject?
Time was running out, he only had two hours. He grabbed Wei Langxing’s arm, pulling him up.
“Never mind, you’re coming with me!”
He had expected a formal refusal, or silent resistance, but Wei Langxing simply said, “Okay.”
Tang Yu’an: “?”
That was it? So easy?
Then, Wei Langxing’s next action stunned him.
He stood up, adjusted his collar, then picked up the remaining monitors on his desk and threw them out the window.
Tang Yu’an stared, speechless: “What… what are you doing?”
Had his attempt to restore his memory somehow broken his mind?
Thankfully, everyone’s consciousness was inside the building. If someone was walking outside…
Wei Langxing smiled, a strangely carefree expression: “In 523 out of 1164 films, the protagonist concludes that life is too short to be wasted on boring, repetitive work, that there’s a whole world out there to explore.”
Tang Yu’an: “…”
I wanted you to be smarter, not a philosophical poet.
Wei Langxing extended his hand: “Care to join me on a spontaneous adventure?”
Tang Yu’an: “…”
He assumed reaching the edge of this virtual world would log them out. Using a “journey” as an excuse wasn’t a bad idea.
So, he took his hand.
They walked past the rows of monitors and the diligently working employees, towards the exit.
As they stepped outside, Wei Langxing suddenly stopped.
Tang Yu’an was slightly nervous: “What’s wrong? Changed your mind?”
Wei Langxing, feeling the virtual sunlight on his face, felt like a fish freed from ice, its movements joyful after being frozen for so long, chasing after the enticing bait.
“No,” he said. “It’s just… strange, leaving this building for the first time.”
Tang Yu’an, a thought suddenly occurring to him, asked: “How… how long have you been here?”
Wei Langxing calculated, giving a precise answer: “Ten years, five months, and three days.”
Tang Yu’an was shocked. He thought his past few days had been eventful, but Wei Langxing had been trapped here for ten years!
And the others, who knew how long they had been enslaved…?
He hated being controlled, his face darkening.
Wei Langxing, holding his hand, stared at him for a few seconds, then said: “You’re unhappy. Why?”
Tang Yu’an turned, forcing a smile: “I’m not unhappy, just eager to leave. Let’s go.”
They walked down the street.
The virtual world was a near-perfect replica of reality. Seeing a familiar bakery, Tang Yu’an felt a sense of dissonance.
If the sensations and thoughts were real, what was the difference between this and reality?
Wei Langxing, following his gaze, saw a croissant sign: “Want one?”
Tang Yu’an wasn’t in the mood for food. Eating here, knowing it was just data, was unsettling.
“I’m not hungry, let’s go.”
Wei Langxing had no specific plan, following his lead: “Where are we going?”
Tang Yu’an, pulling him along, replied without turning back: “To the end of the world.”
After a few seconds, Wei Langxing simply said, “Okay.”
He had sat in the same spot for ten years, tirelessly processing data, never changing.
He had assumed it would continue forever, but someone had entered the building, smashed his computer, and filled his mind with movies, changing his perception.
The ingrained thought, “I’m a company employee, I must work forever,” shattered like ice in the morning sun, melting away without a trace.
He followed Tang Yu’an, each step a new adventure.
Unlike the dim, cold lights inside the building, the outside world was vibrant, colorful.
He looked at Tang Yu’an, his gaze lingering on his red lips, his fair skin, thinking of the cherry cream cake advertised in the bakery window. It must be delicious.
This was his bait.
If only we could walk like this forever, he thought. Just the two of us, to the end of the world.
But they hadn’t walked far when Tang Yu’an stopped, staring ahead, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Why did we stop? Weren’t we going to the end of the world?”
Tang Yu’an pointed at a distant building: “The… the corporation building, we’re back.”
Wei Langxing looked, and the familiar building was indeed right in front of them.
They hadn’t turned back, yet it was there again.
Like an endless loop.
