Chapter 27-Game Descent: I Am the Sole Player

Chapter 27

The last light of the dying sun was swallowed bit by bit by the dark. Night spread across the fields, the highways, the gleaming towers of the city.

Far across the ocean.

Here, the sun was preparing to rise. Daylight broke through the clouds and stained the horizon red, and those who gazed up at the sky could not tell if they were watching a sunrise or a sunset.

A convoy of off-road vehicles thundered down a wide, flat highway, blue lion banners on the cars snapping in the morning light. From the lead vehicle's window, a young head emerged — blond hair, blue eyes — whistling with excitement at the magnificent dawn.

Four SUVs led the way, three large trucks following behind. The people packed into the truck beds were pressed against each other like cargo in a shipping container, their faces blank.

The convoy pulled up at a farm. A man jumped out of the lead vehicle, clapped his hands together, and said: "Time to get started!"

The trucks and SUVs formed a ring in the open field. Ragged, threadbare people were herded into the centre — old and young, men and women, different ethnicities — the only thing they shared was an expression even more vacant and hollow than the scarecrows standing in the fields.

"The 'Bad Boys Club' doesn't kill the weak."

The young man at the front snapped his fingers. "Same rules as always — fight it out among yourselves, produce three winners, and then come challenge us."

"There are seven of us — three kills won't be enough to go around," a boy who looked no older than fifteen or sixteen muttered.

"Miles, don't forget the 'Bad Boys Club' only has six members. We let you join out of respect for being Miles's little brother." Another young man slung an arm around the boy's shoulder, tone half-joking, half-threatening.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." Miles forced himself to look tough. "The game's almost over — hurry up and let these pigs put on a show!"

Before long, screams tore across the dry fields, and blood splashed again and again across the scarecrows propped high on their stakes. The scarecrows looked as though they had been slashed open cut after cut, their button eyes glinting faintly in the light.

Inside a red farmhouse somewhere on the property, a young woman crouching by the window lowered her binoculars and turned to grab a red cape hanging on the coat rack.

"Hey Jennie, I'm heading out for a bit — if Mum asks, tell her I went to milk the cows!"

Nine-year-old Jennie rubbed her sleepy eyes and complained: "Hani, you'd better not be stirring up trouble again… Mum said now that we've all hit level 5, the right thing to do is stay home and wait for the game to end."

Hani called back: "I swear, I have never stirred up trouble in my life. I'm just going to deal with the trouble that's about to show up at our door!"

"Fine, just come back quickly."

Jennie gave a perfunctory reply, wrapped her arms around her stuffed elephant, and went back to sleep.

On the other side of the world, the vast grasslands had yellowed slightly with the onset of winter, but the equatorial sun hung at its zenith — it was noon here.

Snow-capped mountains rose in the distance, and herds of elephants ambled across the plains, passing beneath one spreading acacia tree after another.

Three of the elephants were different from the rest — larger, backs armoured in plates, tusks of extraordinary breadth, calling to mind the long-extinct mammoth.

February was peak calving season for elephants. A newborn calf was tucked safely within the group, stumbling along on unsteady legs. For these ancient, heavy-souled creatures, whatever the world became, they would go on leaving their deep, steady footprints in this land that would always be alive.

A helicopter intruded on the blue sky. Black gun barrels extended from its sides, trained on the wandering herd.

They were about to open fire — but someone on the ground moved faster. A shell streaked upward and struck the helicopter dead-on. The black aircraft came apart in burning fragments that scattered and fell like dark confetti.

The armoured vehicle carrying the cannon was very old; every bolt seemed to protest as it moved. Painted on the body were the words "Akashinga" — "the brave ones" in the local language.

[Congratulations, player has reached Level 15!]

[Congratulations, player Selam has unlocked the achievement "Grassland Guardian"! You have received the blessing of all living creatures!]

The third global broadcast was unlocked. Inside the vehicle, the woman's expression did not change at all. In her eyes, nothing about this world had changed. Killing had always played out in rotation here, and she had always been a ranger, guarding this place just as she always had.

No need for alarm. No need for change. No need to worry about tomorrow.

Return to the essence of life — that was the philosophy of the tropics.

In the northernmost country of the eastern continent.

This place was buried under forty degrees of frost. At two in the afternoon, looking up only revealed grey driving snow.

A dark green train sat idle along a long stretch of border. A figure bundled beyond recognition, carrying a mountaineering pack taller than themselves, emerged from a conifer forest thick with ice crystals. A brown bear followed close behind.

The bear seemed ravenously hungry and was growing agitated. The figure stopped and murmured, as if to themselves:

"The oracle told me to go south and keep walking — the Resurrection Ticket is in the country on the other side. We're almost there. Don't be impatient."

"If the oracle lied to me, I'll stuff her into your mouth."

"You want to eat the Resurrection Ticket? Ah — the oracle said she's a small, thin young woman. Probably not much meat on her."

"You want to eat me? Fine then, Tom."

The bear roared and lunged. The roar shook snow from the treetops in a soft cascade. The figure simply stepped back a single pace, lifted the furry brim of their hat, and revealed a pair of grey-blue eyes — the pupils flickering, like the gears of a dusty crystal music box beginning to turn.

Bang — the bear's head suddenly exploded.

The headless carcass crashed to the ground, black blood seeping into the snow.

The figure lowered the fur-trimmed hat again, shook their head, and walked away in disappointment.

Tom was the name they had given the bear five minutes ago. They had thought, seeing it trail so faithfully after them, that perhaps it too wanted a companion.

"How terribly disappointing."

Pack on back, they continued onward alone toward the border. The grey driving snow swallowed every footprint they left behind.

"The Resurrection Ticket, the Resurrection Ticket…" they muttered compulsively, half-slurred as though drunk. "Wait — what was the name of the Resurrection Ticket again?"

Bai Shan was watching the night stars.

Without light pollution, the dark sky was black and luminous at once, stars like pearls washed clean of all sediment. Beneath the starlit sky, the small town ringed by mountains glowed with its streetlamps — a scatter of warm points dotting the dark countryside.

"Bai Shan!" someone called up from below.

"I'm bringing you something to eat!"

Lin Huijun came running up the stairs, carrying a tray of hot food. Bai Shan hadn't had much of an appetite, but the long-missed smell of a real home-cooked meal brought her hunger rushing back.

"Everyone made a very lavish dinner today."

Lin Huijun said it with a smile, but her eyes were subdued.

For the vast majority of people in this Senior Activity Centre, this was the Last Supper.

Getting to eat a hot meal like this was already the kind of luxury that existed only in a world apart. Lin Huijun glanced at the world channel — most people were too busy levelling up or running for their lives; even stopping to eat was a luxury.

"Any disturbances inside?" Bai Shan asked.

"No." Lin Huijun shook her head. "It's been very peaceful. Maybe the people with ideas were scared off by your little move earlier."

The body with an arrow through its forehead lay at the road entrance — deterrent enough for most who were ruthless but not truly brave.

After dark, Bai Shan had caught two people trying to climb in over the back hill. She dropped both with a single arrow — the arrowhead punching clean through the temples of two skulls in one shot.

Lin Huijun took the empty bowl back downstairs. Bai Shan stared blankly ahead. Then, at the edge of a distant streetlamp, a grotesque shadow appeared.

It was a dog with two heads. Its claws were sharper than a lion's or a tiger's; two sets of fanged jaws dripped with saliva. A terrifying sight.

It lingered under the streetlamp for a moment, then changed direction and began walking toward the Senior Activity Centre.

It drew closer. Shreds of loose flesh fell from its body as it moved, trailing wounds, approaching the warmth and human smell of the building.

Bai Shan raised the compound bow again. Before she could act, a crowd of people came rushing out, crying "found it," "that's my kill," "get out of the way."

Everyone surged in together, a chaotic tangle. After a long moment, the crowd parted.

The two-headed old dog had gone down — and so had several of the people, lying on the ground unable to get up. The yellow streetlamp light was thick with the haze of blood.

"Old Zhang — this, this, they're — not breathing anymore!"

"It was so chaotic just now. Who knows who did what!"

"…Nobody saw a thing. Let's go."

"Wait — did you all just hit level 5 from that? I still haven't made it!"

The survivors scattered as if fleeing, disappearing down the dark village road, swallowed by the night. From her high vantage point, Bai Shan watched the whole farce play out.

"Mum."

Bai Shan murmured the word softly to herself.

That "mum" wasn't addressed to anyone in particular. It was a sound that slipped out on its own — a vast tangle of thoughts and feelings releasing themselves into one syllable.

A little loneliness. A little bewilderment. Breathed out and let go.

The night grew heavier, and sounds of dying rose from all corners of the town and village — keening, distorted, impossible to tell animal from human.

Bai Shan kept watch through the night. The night was so very long.

Red-rimmed eyes turned toward the first pale light of morning. Bai Shan knew: the night was not over yet. It would last until noon.

Bai Shan ran her fingers along the cold barrel of the gun and murmured, "Wasn't easy, getting you lot."

The elderly residents of the Activity Centre were nearly all awake at first light. Some ate breakfast and then settled quietly into their seats. Even those too far gone to follow a conversation seemed to sense something, sitting straight-backed and still.

"Mum." Su Cuifang paced around her mother's wheelchair. "Is there anything you want? Anything to eat? You can't skip breakfast."

"No, no — keep it for yourself."

The toothless old woman murmured over and over.

"…I've been calling you senile for years — and at the moment that counts, you understand everything."

There were already tears in Su Cuifang's eyes.

"…Give the leftovers to Wangcai."

The old woman patted Su Cuifang's hand. The tap on the back of her hand had weight to it — as if she were pouring all of her life's remaining strength into it. It was enough to make Su Cuifang's eyes spill over.

"Alright, alright — whatever's left I'll give to Wangcai. Wangcai is the cleverest dog there is, he knows how to help himself to things off the table… and I'll eat well too, live to be a hundred!"

The clock in the main hall ticked steadily on — eight o'clock, nine o'clock, pushing toward ten, then eleven.

All around the world, people said their goodbyes in a night of killing that seemed as though it would never see dawn.

In a church, hundreds of people knelt before a pure white icon, offering their last prayers. The stained glass windows were shattered by fire bottles, flames spreading through the nave, yet not a single person left — all determined to see the rite through to the end.

"Lord, I place this day in your hands."

At the seaside, wave after wave crashed against the rocks at the foot of a cliff. Four children with nowhere left to run were cornered at the edge by foreign troops. The children looked at one another, joined hands, and leapt into the ocean's embrace.

"Damn it!"

The troops, who hadn't reached level 5, immediately turned their weapons on each other.

In the heart of a city, someone ran amok with a gun, spraying bullets at the surrounding buildings, screaming and screaming in collapse.

A ball fell from the sky and smashed his head. A figure dressed as a clown collected the blood-smeared ball, then continued juggling in the middle of the crossroads — bowing and gesturing to the empty, deserted streets.

Behind the clown, a clock tower hung with an old-fashioned clock. The hour and minute hands were about to meet.

"Shen Yang — I don't want to die… I haven't finished the snacks I stocked up, I haven't seen my mum, my home is right there in the city!"

On the basketball court, Shen Yang pulled her friend into her arms. Grief flooded every one of her senses, and she cried so hard she could barely form words: "You will — I'll take you back myself, we'll go right now!"

Shen Yang tried to pull her friend into the car — as if that could make them run from it. But her friend wrapped both arms around her waist in a hold so tight it was almost suffocating.

"No — there's no time left. No time to get back. We can never go back anymore…" her friend whispered.

Shen Yang desperately wanted to do something. She fumbled at her trouser pocket and pulled out her phone. "Call — call home, call your mum—"

She punched in numbers at random. The screen read: no signal. In her panic she didn't notice something sharp pressing into her back from behind.

She felt the body in her arms grow lighter. Shen Yang's hands flew from the phone — an accidental tap opened the music app, and a light, airy song began to play from where it lay on the ground.

"Reach a little higher, we're going to fly far away, sweet as bubblegum, warm and soft as a hug…"

"Fly even further, let's go somewhere together…"

Clatter — a small knife dropped to the ground. The faint sound, like a bubble of gum quietly bursting.

Shen Yang didn't know the knife at her back had fallen. Through tear-blurred eyes, her friend dissolved like wind, leaving nothing behind.

The phone's bright, airy music kept playing. It was a song Xiao Shu had shared with her — they had promised each other that on the summer after graduation, they'd go to the seaside and use this song for their graduation video.

They never made it to the grand ceremony of that summer. Many were still submerged in the grief of losing friends and family, when the pitiless mechanical voice rang out across the world once more —

[Congratulations to 457,384,729 players for successfully completing Phase One of Tomorrow's Dominator!]

[All players who completed Phase One have been awarded the A-rank item "A Bottle of Healing Mineral Water." Please check your game inventory!]

[Calculating results… please wait patiently…]

[The system has identified the top 100 human players by strength. Players ranked 2nd through 99th on the leaderboard are awarded a "Position Swap Order"!]

[The player ranked 1st on the leaderboard is awarded — Game Authority!]

[The rules for Phase Two of Tomorrow's Dominator will be revealed at the same time tomorrow. Stay tuned, players!]

The mechanical voice fell silent. For a long moment, the vast majority of people had yet to react, their faces still blank.

Only a very small number — the moment the mechanical voice made its announcement — had already opened their game panels with impatient hands.

When Bai Shan saw the name at the top of the leaderboard, her expression went blank for a moment — and then settled into a look of resigned, inevitable acceptance.

It was fine. She told herself. What did [Tyrant] have to do with her, Bai Shan?

[Human Player Top 100 No.1 Tyrant]

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