TBR CH170
Upon learning that the black book was not some kind of beginner’s guide, Roland patiently thanked the stranger on the other end of the internet connection.
Then he looked at the black book. The black book had already been opened from the inventory, and what appeared on the screen was an old, opened book, which perfectly matched the aesthetic of “Abyss Continent” itself. It seemed to be completely integrated into the game world, so much so that when it directly revealed Roland’s identity, Roland almost thought it was a joke played by the game mechanism.
Since his original living place had become a collection of what this world called “data,” then anything that happened seemed plausible.
“Do you believe it now?”
A line of text appeared on the black book, “So I had no choice but to send you to a world that doesn’t belong to you, Roland Xavier, Archmage of Mirar Continent.”
The city’s nightfall was late, but now, the westward sun cast the shadows of tall buildings, slanting down through the glass door and onto the young man, making his light golden hair appear a bit dim.
The middle-aged man’s busy footsteps sounded from upstairs. The internet café still had some time before it was ready to open for business. The hall was completely dim and quiet at this moment, and the young man slightly raised his eyes.
It had been a few days since he had heard that title, Roland thought, and he actually felt a bit nostalgic.
Because magic absolutely did not exist in this world. Through repeated searches on his phone—which, he had to admit, was much easier to use than scrolls—he learned that powers beyond reason were not tolerated in such a world. Instead, science reigned, with countless laws and principles forming its high walls, connecting innumerable people; they had even sent people to the moon.
In Roland’s twenty years of past knowledge, the moon was the embodiment of the Moon Goddess; she truly existed, could be summoned, and had even had tea with him amiably.
These memories, which seemed far too wild, were discreetly kept secret by the young man. Because he had made a simple self-diagnosis using the common sense he had learned in the past few days:
Schizophrenia with delusional disorder.
The problem was that Roland wasn’t sure whether his years of risky magical research had finally broken the world’s rules, or if all his memories were merely the ravings of a madman. This was a denial of past experiences, and also the greatest self-riddle scholars could conceive. He spread his hands, and they were empty.
When facing the imminent crushing by the car, Roland had tried to cast a defensive spell.
He only realized at the last moment that he had no staff in his hand.
The recollection ended there, and his thoughts returned to the current situation he had to face. Roland raised his eyes; his amber pupils had always been associated by others with rare wisdom.
Since he was the most talented Archmage in the history of Mirar Continent, owning his own mage tower and a large group of typically eccentric students at the mere age of twenty, and also holding the top honorary membership in the Mage Association, it was not surprising that he received some blindly adoring evaluations.
“I should point out,”
Roland had no intention of pretending to be polite any longer, commenting directly:
“If you are the World Consciousness, then at the very least, the place I lived should have been a real world. It’s not that I haven’t considered the existence of higher-dimensional beings, but what I’m seeing unequivocally tells me that the entire Mirar Continent is fictional, and even I am—how can I still have flesh and blood? Shouldn’t I just be a string of data without even weight?”
On the book page in front of him, the original text vanished, and new text slowly seeped through the paper:
“It should have been like that, but…”
The black book spent a long time telling the story.
It skipped unnecessary elaborations as much as possible, but pointedly lengthened the narrative when describing its past few victories. It then mentioned the traces of the “System” it was pursuing; the System should have been utterly annihilated in the last decisive battle, but it had detected unusual fluctuations in this world after a long time.
Given that the System could not appear out of thin air, something must be trying to recreate it.
“Excuse me,”
Roland said, “Since the System targets villains in every world, and you always find villains. Given that I was indeed engaged in some research on dark magic, may I ask, I won’t be counted as the biggest villain on Mirar Continent, will I?”
“It’s not you.”
Taking advantage of the pause, the black book wiped clean the densely written text that had filled the entire page, then slowly revealed the following words: “But it has a lot to do with you. You have become a major obstacle in the System’s eyes, so it eliminated you—”
“From the game world?”
“From everywhere.” The black book said, “Completely erased. Any later, and I wouldn’t have had time to rescue your soul here.”
Confined by a narrow screen, the black book peered at Roland’s expression from the other end of the screen, only to see the young man’s face illuminated by the screen, a nearly scorching light flashing in his amber eyes, even a hint of an indescribable joy. Roland crossed his hands, let out a sigh, but the corners of his lips curved upward:
“It seems my life isn’t so insignificant after all.”
The Archmage’s pupils, under the cold light of the screen, even resembled a cat’s vertical pupils somewhat, giving a chilling sense of scrutiny. Before the text on the black book had completely faded, Roland suddenly added out of the blue:
“You don’t need to explain anymore, I pretty much understand.”
The World Consciousness still had at least a third of its information not shared with Roland. At this point, hearing him say this, the half-written strokes awkwardly froze, a horizontal line forcibly bending into an arc. It asked blankly:
“Under-understood? Wait a minute, what did you understand on your own—”
“I understand that the world I originally lived in can be considered neither real nor false,”
Roland smiled at the screen. This smile softened, and the internet café owner, who had come downstairs to get something, happened to catch it, pleased that Roland had adapted so quickly to the environment.
“Mirar Continent is undoubtedly a game world deliberately fabricated. The ‘System’ you speak of is trying to use the connection between two worlds—reality and fiction—to create a trap that you will absolutely not be able to catch. If I’m not mistaken, the villains being targeted belong to the game world, while the System and the Child of Destiny belong to my side of reality. As the World Consciousness, to stabilize the villains, you must be trapped on the other side of the screen, unable to interfere with anything that happens here. So there’s no way to catch the System.”
“What you said is correct,”
The black book wrote hastily, then added with a hint of unease, “So, what’s your current self-perception…?”
“I believe I am a being with autonomous consciousness.”
Roland said, “And most people around me are too. The System cannot draw energy from a completely fictional world; it must be very careful to give us freedom of thought. Fortunately, most people don’t immediately feel that the world they live in is wrong.”
As Roland spoke, he clasped his left and right hands together, his slender fingers forming a pyramid-like shape, and above this shape were his intelligent eyes.
The black book suddenly remembered that it had rushed to this world and hadn’t yet had time to understand what those “slightly over-the-top” researches Roland mentioned were about. But as it looked at the young man’s eyes, it involuntarily wrote:
“You already sensed it…”
“Perhaps a little.”
Roland slowly blinked. A seasoned mage knew when to display humility.
More than a little, the young Archmage had sensed something was wrong too early: the slowly moving star trails in the sky were untouchable, distant, conceptual deities ruled everything, yet he had long felt that there were other unseen eyes behind it all. The history of the continent, those distant, vague prophecies that everyone believed without question… things like that.
Since all this was constructed, it was originally just a false model.
According to the System’s arrangement, the chosen host in the real world would create a game account, and the virtual character’s emotions would be entirely subject to data simulation. With minimal effort, the virtual character’s favorability could be easily boosted. This would be much easier than any time-consuming, laborious, and acting-intensive strategy. Just select a few dialogue options, send some special gifts.
Love was cheap, yet the person on the screen couldn’t help but be swayed by vows of love.
Then the host would withdraw, waiting for the day the two worlds merged. The game character would appear in the real world, and the harvested fortune value at that moment would reach its highest point ever.
At the same time, both worlds would be destroyed.
They couldn’t coexist well; the dark races with immense destructive power would destroy this peaceful world like crushing ants. Roland had been here for a few days, and he was well aware of the power of science, knowing the might of thermal weapons and bombs. Order would be destroyed, then cease to exist.
In the game interface of “Abyss,” a black cat had been stationary for a long time, occasionally controlled by idle animations, wagging its tail and twitching its ears. The huge staff coiled by its tail was a mismatch for its fluffy appearance. The internet café was very quiet, with only the young man’s low voice.
“I will help you,”
Roland spoke to the screen, “You saved my life, and I should be grateful. I will do my best to find the Child of Destiny lurking in this world. But I have one request. Since you haven’t mentioned it until now, I guess it must be very difficult.”
The writing on the black book disappeared as if washed away by water. Roland looked at the empty pages:
“—Can I return to my original world?”
A game character had broken through virtual boundaries and gained freedom. He stood in a higher dimension, looking down at his past world, at the thin layer of textures on the computer screen. Everything seemed as comical as a two-dimensional drawing.
After all, stories throughout history have been about traversing into another world and trying to get back home. Although the other world was home to many, the idea of returning to it sounded incredible.
“It’s not for any other reason,”
Roland’s amber eyes reflected the promotional poster on the wall, on which the Demon King coldly and arrogantly stared at everyone passing by, looking as if he intended to violently eliminate all obstacles in his path. He was, of course, the most deserving villain of the entire continent; even when Roland first logged into the game, he saw the exact same scene.
“You know my relationship with Kriesmeier, right?”
Roland seemed utterly unconcerned; at such times, the Archmage appeared very blunt, his eyes practically screaming “we have some improper relationship.” But the black book was suspiciously silent. The black book paused for a while. It was easy to observe everything happening in the game world, but correctly understanding it was not so easy.
Although on this point, the System had, for some reason, already made a judgment.
“Uh,” the black book hesitated for a long time, then decided to honestly voice its question:
“You mean, ever since you disappeared, the entire continent believed you were murdered by the Demon King. And not only did the Demon King not defend himself, he instead tried to blow up your mage tower, overturn the Mage Association’s stronghold, blacklist your name in the Demon King’s Castle, put you at the top of the bounty list, and never stopped issuing orders to hunt you down—”
“Exactly,”
Roland closed his eyes and smiled, then naturally followed up with this incredible statement,
“He really loves me, doesn’t he?”
The World Consciousness swore it was genuinely worried about its collaborator’s mental state for the first time.
Two hours later, Shan Sheng clomped downstairs from upstairs and saw the young man still intently staring at the screen. Immediately, the common elder-switch in his brain was flipped, and he earnestly said:
“Xiao Luo, playing too many games isn’t good for your health. It’s not that Uncle is nagging, you’re young, you should get up and move around a bit, rest your eyes. When you reach my age, you’ll know how important your body is. Look, well, my joints are already giving out, and Shan Bin keeps saying I’m losing hair…”
Roland shifted his gaze from the screen. Indeed, eyes accustomed to prolonged bright light felt a faint sting when suddenly looking into a dim environment, followed by physiological tears. He rubbed his eyes and temporarily let go of the keyboard.
Slowly appearing on the screen were four golden, ornate characters: “Combat Victory“.
Although Shan Bin gritted his teeth when talking about Knessmeier, the final boss, the harmless fluffy black cat Roland controlled was still a long way from successfully meeting the Demon King. The Demon King’s Castle dungeon only opened when a player reached level thirty. Looking at his experience bar, now empty again after just reaching level nine, Roland told himself not to rush.
In fact, from other players’ perspectives, reaching level nine within two hours was already quite talented. “Abyss” was not like other online games where leveling up was easy; instead, it patiently built a lengthy difficulty curve, requiring players to master enough skills and participate in enough battles to reach the next level.
Moreover, the character Roland created was not a person, but a black cat.
The difficulty of leveling up for pure animal races far exceeded that of ordinary players. Many interactions that other players could normally engage in were realistically denied to the black cat. So Roland stayed in the initial spawn point, “Starlight Forest,” patiently grinding monster dungeons.
The black cat agilely leaped on the backs of the monsters, its soft paw pads landing so lightly they seemed imperceptible on their rough fur. It coiled its staff with its tail, and the staff fired magic in unexpected directions, all hitting their marks precisely.
The clever combination of water, fire, and lightning magic, the tiny interfering particles produced by dark magic…
Roland didn’t spend much time getting used to the game’s controls; the complex mechanisms that were difficult for other players were equivalent to simple arithmetic problems for him.
When he placed his hands on the keyboard, he miraculously and quickly grasped the similarities between the two worlds, inside and outside the screen.
As a mage, thick health bars and hard armor were an insult. The black cat’s tail could firmly coil the staff, and the black cat could also chant spells—though it sounded like meowing at different frequencies, the effect was immediate. Most importantly, the black cat had high agility and mobility on the battlefield, which was Roland’s reason for choosing it.
One small reason.
Another reason was that Roland particularly liked black cats. As the master of a mage tower, he had once wanted to keep a black cat in the tower, but the environment of the mage tower was very dangerous, and his students kept many unfriendly pets, such as pythons, making it extremely unsuitable for cats. This was clearly no small blow for an Archmage who signed his magic textbooks with the name “Black Cat.”
So when Roland discovered that the character page allowed him to choose a black cat, his amber eyes immediately lit up.
All in all, he controlled the in-game black cat to rampage, spending two hours almost completely annihilating the monsters in “Starlight Forest.” Although his leveling speed was already incredibly fast, he was still not very satisfied.
Shan Sheng had said so, and he knew his body needed rest. After all, he was a patient who had just been discharged from the hospital. Roland once again shifted his gaze to the screen, deciding to solve the last remaining problem.
He briefly analyzed the reasons for the insufficient leveling efficiency.
First, it definitely wasn’t the black cat’s fault.
The black cat, in his hands, had already unleashed far greater power than ordinary characters. The problem of insufficient efficiency lay in the weapon the black cat was using: the mage staff.
And currently, the only available staff was the one provided in the beginner’s tutorial, which was embedded with a magic stone that looked of questionable quality. Roland controlled the black cat to carry a small pouch of gold coins dropped by monsters, lightly jumped onto the counter, appearing before the weapon merchant, intending to see if there were any good wares.
The weapon merchant was a fixed NPC in the newbie village.
Every day, he welcomed and sent off countless players, answering their inquiries and selling them a continuous supply of mass-produced weapons. He didn’t know where these heroes, who seemed as mass-produced as the weapons, came from. This seemed like a normal phenomenon, and he never thought much about it.
Until he sent off the previous customer, pocketed the money, and then, in a blink of an eye, saw a black cat.
The black cat had no other adornments, opened its amber eyes, and meowed at him, and the money bag dropped in response.
Only then did the weapon merchant realize that the black cat was also one of those players. He suppressed the urge to pet the player’s sleek fur and kindly pulled out a weapon catalog from behind, spreading it open in front of Roland. Because he saw the staff coiled by the black cat’s tail, he even specially praised the goods he sold.
A semi-transparent dialogue box appeared on the screen. Roland, who had been diligently Browse the item information, looked over, and then—
Weapon Merchant: “I sell good stuff here. What, you need a mage staff?”
Weapon Merchant: “How about trying this ‘Staff of Starlight,’ embedded with a Starstone? It’s said to be a relic of Saint Roland, you know.”
Roland’s hand trembled.
The black cat, which had been strolling leisurely along the edge of the table, suddenly slipped and almost fell over completely. However, it quickly regained its balance and meowed at the merchant with great dignity, leaving fluffy paw prints on the “Staff of Starlight” product description. Soon, its tail coiled a brand-new staff, it jumped off the table, and disappeared into the forest.
The weapon merchant gazed longingly at the forest for a moment, then shook his head and began his next transaction.
Meanwhile, Roland clicked on the game’s main menu and chose to exit the game. In an instant, the vivid colors of “Abyss World” vanished completely, and in front of him was the default desktop’s serene, mechanical blue.
It was as if an entire world had disappeared.
Roland still couldn’t help but feel a great sense of loss. He whispered to himself, as if to refute something, or as if to prove some connection between himself and that ethereal world:
“I’ve never used a staff of such poor quality before.”
Shan Sheng was busy at the front desk and asked when he heard Roland say something. Roland politely replied that he was fine and then asked the internet café owner when he would be assigned work. Night had already fallen, covering everything, and the outside world was brightly lit, with mottled light reflecting on Roland’s light golden hair.
Shan Sheng suddenly thought of something and scratched his head:
“No rush, no rush. We’re reopening tomorrow. Oh, Xiao Luo, your hair seems natural, quite unique, just doesn’t look like someone from around here.”
Roland blinked: “By the way, judging by what Shan Bin said earlier, is there a place to dye hair nearby?”
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