TBR CH235

You Lin pressed the power button of the game console.

He desperately needed an opportunity—not because of the immediate danger, nor due to any intentional bad premonition. Through his glove, the human’s fingertips fumbled with the metal casing of the game console, his actions faster than his thoughts. It wasn’t until the screen slowly lit up that You Lin belatedly realized he had actually pressed it.

The moment he made the decision, he felt a belated, long-lost sense of relief, so light.

Should he say something? No, Charon was probably still in sleep mode right now.

You Lin rarely felt this nervous, yet he couldn’t help but curve his lips.

Just a quick look at him would be enough.

His companion was right there beside him, not going anywhere. Even if everything that just happened was absolutely terrible. This was true not only for Charon but also for himself; the feeling of blood splattering on him had once made him numb, but since Charon disliked it, he also seemed to slowly regain his senses, beginning to detest the hateful and desperate gaze of life twitching on his fingertips just before death.

…Was it a malfunction?

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted. You Lin’s fingertips slid across the screen, tentatively calling out, “Charon.”

“Are you angry with me?”

The main interface, from left to right, was still the familiar ruins, yet no matter how he searched, there was no sign of the silver-haired pixelated figure.

Things weren’t that bad yet, but the human suddenly heard his own heartbeat, heavy as if soaked with rain. You Lin repeatedly checked the situation in the virtual space, still unable to comprehend what had happened. It wasn’t until he pulled up the data page. His eyes were filled with missing buttons and fragmented text, his former masterpieces.

“…Charon?”

Reflected in the human’s pupils was an unbelievable sight.

All the names had vanished.

It was like a painting scraped of its colors. Where the names used to be, there were now blank spaces, scraped clean. The name “Charon” on the promise, “You Lin” on the favorability interface, the lines and boxes swayed precariously, leaving only empty numbers. Both subject and object were utterly blank.

“__ to __’s current favorability is 67, please continue to work hard!”

“Don’t make jokes like that,”

You Lin’s voice was tight, subtly revealing a neurotic uneasiness.

His fingertips pressed hard on the screen, turning white. “Little AI, I know you’re angry with me. But no matter what, you shouldn’t scare me like this. Come out quickly, quickly, I really will—”

“Are you alright?”

A passing employee scratched his unusually stout arm, suspiciously reminding the human who was engrossed in operating his electronic device, “Time is running out, you must hurry. Uh…”

The human looked up, gazing at him blankly.

The new employee’s face was as white as paper, clutching the… game console in his hand, mumbling something incessantly. The small mole beneath his eye, however, was vividly crimson. The rhino-like monster instinctively felt a shudder, involuntarily taking a step back. Living in a company full of monsters, you had to be discerning enough to know when to escape as quickly as possible.

He seemed to be doing something important, so much so that he absolutely, absolutely did not want to be disturbed.

“If there’s nothing wrong, I’ll be going.”

As if a small mountain had moved, the corridor almost vibrated.

You Lin, however, was oblivious. He was intently operating the game console—it was truly a simple machine with few buttons and a very small navigable space, but he still searched thoroughly, not missing a single crevice. There were only some data remnants, a few scraps of paper, and the basket of carrots from which Charon had once plucked leaves. There were no rabbits left.

It was as if he had swallowed a piece of ice, and then the ice burned in his stomach.

It was time when avoidance was no longer possible.

The human’s eyes saw them earlier than anything else, yet his mind refused to process. Until now, You Lin rotated his perspective. On the pristine floor of the virtual space, several glass-like candy wrappers were scattered.

Snowflakes were scattered on the candy wrappers. You Lin moved his view closer, only then vaguely discerning the pixelated text, which was as precise as an engraving, forming a complete message:

“I’m sorry, I also couldn’t keep my promise.”

You Lin stood still, unmoving.

“Little AI, is this your punishment for me?”

Everything that happened was too perplexing for him to understand its meaning, and his voice was so soft it would dissipate the next second,

“Because I… because I did something wrong. Don’t be like this, I’m sorry, I know it was my fault. You can command me to pay any price, you can ask me to agree to do anything, except this kind of malicious joke… Little AI? I know you’re deceiving me. You won’t leave me, you can’t even maintain your existence. You must be hiding here, right?”

AIs don’t lie, that’s a paradox.

His almost pleading words received no response. The precarious red string finally slipped completely from his fingertips, falling at his feet. You Lin froze for a moment, looking down at it, seemingly unable to comprehend what kind of omen this was.

Avoiding lunatics was not only a human consensus but also a monster one. Employees passing through the corridor hurried along, only subtly glancing at the mumbling human.

You Lin, however, seemed to have finally convinced himself. His pupils darkened, and he desperately pressed the scars on his palm. All the thoughts in his body collided and pressed against each other. He strained to curl his lips into a smile,

“I understand. You just don’t want to see me right now. But you’ll forgive me eventually, just like you forgive other humans. I’ll prove it to you… Little AI, and then you’ll come back.”

“Oh, dumped? No matter who you’re talking to, I think they’ll stay far away from you,”

However, an untimely voice sounded.

The overhead broadcast began to shriek again. It said fastidiously, clearly very disgusted with You Lin: “And you can’t stay here either. Last three minutes, new employee You Lin, please report to office C104 within ten minutes; last two minutes, the annoying new employee is about to pack up and get out—ah—”

You Lin shot it, singeing its tail.

This action was purely done on a whim; the human didn’t even look at it, simply and crudely forcing the broadcast to shut up. Afterward, he carefully tied the red string into a knot again, re-hanging the game console on his chest.

He didn’t have much time left for careful consideration. He just hastily pulled out a packet of powder from his pocket. Fortunately, he didn’t cherish his fingers that much. After a simple treatment, the human randomly selected a hole on the wooden door. These holes were like eyes, with a sticky, disgusting darkness within.

The moment his fingertip entered the darkness, sharp pain immediately followed.

It was as if two rows of blades were sawing off his ring finger; the other party seemed to enjoy this slow, savoring sensation.

The black glove was quickly twisted off, and when his phalanges were almost broken, a mechanical sound echoed. Whatever was behind the door sighed contentedly, making gurgling noises, and began to lick the blood flowing from the human’s fingertip.

You Lin reached into another hole with his other hand. He felt the key, its cold metallic touch sobering. A golden, bright key, like the sun.

Three, two, one.

The sound from within the door suddenly shifted to a moan, as if choking on blood.

The pressure on his finger suddenly dissipated, though the pain remained piercing. But the human was almost grateful for the pain; he now had a masochistic pleasure. In a bloody mess, only a thin layer of flesh connected his ring finger to the rest of his palm, which was even slightly better than he had expected.

Considering his original plan was to retrieve his finger from the belly of whatever was inside—presumably his superior.

It was better if Charon didn’t see this scene. You Lin thought so, but another side of him hoped the AI would appear. He was injured, and he had once seen concern in those ice-blue eyes.

…Well, now the AI was just hiding, unwilling to meet him.

You Lin convinced himself to believe this, at least for now. Not too much evidence had appeared to shatter this notion. This way, he could barely maintain his last shred of sanity. He held the key with his intact right hand and inserted it into the lock.

The holes on the office door all closed, and frightful howls could be heard from inside, followed by nauseating sounds like vomiting, and a clattering of collapsing objects.

Just as he turned the key, the door opened from within.

Inside, it could barely be considered a normal office, yet there were fingers everywhere. Strings of fingers lined the walls, from various races, many of them shriveled. A spider-like monster—its segmented limbs also made of joined fingers, with a face closely resembling a human’s—was writhing in pain on the office floor, clearly looking like it had an upset stomach.

Jiang Wenbin, who had already grown demon horns, stood in the center of the door, glaring at him through gritted teeth.

“Quick, tell me, what did you feed her?!”

Hugo Alfred’s first day at this company.

“As a zombie, this is the best job you can find,” this thought naturally popped into his mind. The brown-haired thief annoyedly tugged at the badge on his suit, which was emblazoned with the initials of “Homeless Shelter.” The power of the instance was too strong, almost making him forget his true identity.

He was assigned to office D234, where his boss was a mummy, swaying as it walked, exuding a rotten stench from beneath its bandages.

It was well-known that new office employees were typically exploited. The mummy had given him at least ten different documents within an hour, each to be delivered to various bizarre offices on different floors.

He hopped back to the office, his hair damp from slime, and was immediately handed another document. This document was on black, hard-printed paper, with gilded lettering.

“This document is very important!” The other party yelled at him. “Take it to the CEO’s office quickly!”

Well, it wasn’t so surprising to learn that this strange company had a proper CEO. What was originally thought to be a tense and exciting instance survival suddenly turned into exhausting and stressful work. Hugo slumped his shoulders and raised his arms again to hop out. One hop, two hops, three hops… until he stood at the elevator door, pressing the open button directly with his finger.

He took a sharp breath, about to retreat.

However, the zombie’s characteristics had already manifested in this body. Hugo stumbled backward awkwardly, almost landing on his backside. The silver-haired AI inside the elevator looked at him, his beautiful ice-blue eyes reflecting his embarrassing appearance, his expression completely unperturbed.

“Come in,” Charon said.

“Wait…”

“He’s not here.”

The AI immediately added, as if seeing through his worries.

Good that the notorious ghost wasn’t here. The “zombie,” as nimble as a little mouse, finally breathed a sigh of relief, the freckles on his cheeks becoming significantly more lively. Speaking of “freckles,” they were more like liver spots. Noticing Charon examining his face, Hugo smiled awkwardly and ducked into the elevator, patting the dust off himself:

“I drew these on. How are they? Do they look real?”

“Yes,” Charon said. “Very real. Are you aware that they are merging with your skin?”

“Really?” Hugo was startled and quickly rubbed his face against the smooth wall of the elevator. Some of the paint transferred to his fingers, but another part had already become dark marks on his skin. “These aren’t real liver spots, are they… Uh, I mean, that’s kind of disgusting.”

“This is just the influence of the instance; your human core hasn’t changed.”

“That’s true,” Hugo’s voice gradually faded. For now, only the two of them were in the elevator. He subtly glanced at Charon out of the corner of his eye, feigning nonchalance. “Speaking of which, benefactor, why are you here alone? Are you looking for me? Where’s You Lin? Are you two really broken up? Although I don’t think anyone could put up with what just happened…”

“I left him,” Charon said concisely.

He continued to maintain his virtual entity for a long time during his sleep, and You Lin hadn’t actively revealed his identity. The other party indeed still thought he was a player.

Hugo gasped: “He agreed?”

“No.”

“I have a bad feeling that someone is hunting you down,”

As expected, Hugo mumbled, “And if he sees me with you, he’ll definitely kill me too.”

The AI lowered his eyes to look at him, his silver hair tied in a ponytail shimmering with a faint blue light behind his neck. From the moment they met, he had been holding a black book in his hand.

At this moment, he pulled out that familiar “Homeless Shelter” business card from the book: “I thought your leaving this business card meant you were willing to offer me assistance.”

“I, I certainly am!”

The brown-haired “zombie” finally looked serious, taking the card from his hand. “Members of the ‘Homeless Shelter’ never forget the favors of others, even if it means risking their lives… Anyway, you saved my life, and helping you won’t necessarily kill me, right? What do you want? I can try to find you a safe place, and if necessary, I can try to stop him… But let me say beforehand, I can’t hold out for more than a few minutes!”

He felt like he couldn’t even last a few seconds. Charon thought, then felt it was unkind to judge others like that.

“No need,” the AI said. “Please don’t sacrifice yourself for me; prioritize your own safety when in danger. I also don’t intend to trouble you too much. I only hope you do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Give me the document in your hand.”

Hugo didn’t expect to hear this. He was engrossed in more captivating stories, stories filled with blood, betrayal, and sacrifice. He had already begun to contemplate what kind of flowers would be placed on his grave after he died—just then, Charon simply pulled him back to the mundane present with a single sentence.

This was a company, and he was running errands for an annoying boss.

“Oh, okay,” he instinctively offered the document forward, but quickly pulled his hand back. “No, no, no, I need to ask first where you’re taking this document. It’s not that I don’t want to help you, but I’ve read this document, and there’s nothing special about it. If I lose it, that disgusting mummy might fire me. At least let me know why.”

Charon’s fingertips were just a hair’s breadth from touching the document.

The silver-haired AI maintained his posture, asking, “Who are you supposed to give this document to?”

“The CEO’s office.” Hugo quickly corrected himself. “No, no, no, I remember I just need to give it to the CEO’s secretary… What was that person’s name? He has a very familiar name, I’ve definitely heard it before. Just a moment, let me check…”

“…Ruan Xuelan.”

“That’s right, that’s him!” Hugo’s brow furrowed even deeper. “I know this person. People in our circle have more or less heard of famous people in the Infinite Game. It’s strange, I clearly didn’t see him at the mobilization meeting. Oh, by the way, I forgot to ask you, which department were you assigned to? That rabbit didn’t even have time to assign you a position.”

He was momentarily distracted for a few seconds when he felt a faint breeze brush across his fingertips.

In an instant, the document in his hand was snatched away, appearing in the AI’s palm.

The elevator chimed “ding” and smoothly ascended to the highest point of the entire building. The doors parted from the middle to the sides, and outside, monsters were waiting for the elevator, about to step inside at this very moment. The brown-haired zombie bounced in place, but when he saw Charon’s cold blue eyes, he shivered for some reason. Charon placed a finger to his lips and said softly:

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you deliver this document where it needs to go.”

Hugo’s eyes widened, but he felt his limbs stiffen. By the time he reacted, the elevator doors had already closed again, and he stood in the corner, slowly descending with this confined space.

What on earth… what on earth is going on?!

The top floor of the monster company was a straight corridor, with shimmering obsidian walls and soft leather carpets that quietly yielded beneath one’s shoes. These leathers all gleamed with an unusual luster, their origin unknown.

As you pass through this corridor, you can overlook the scenery below. Monsters rush from one end to the other, carrying documents, or burying their heads in printers, or cleaning the corridor—mostly due to chaos created by out-of-control monsters. You get a sense of inherent nobility and self-satisfaction.

Ruan Xuelan thought exactly this.

At first, he and the other players appeared in the exact same reporting hall, the only difference being that he was wearing a high-end suit instead of a crumpled one, and a fashionable monster-world wristwatch adorned his wrist. When You Lin caused a commotion, and he screamed and fled, the rabbit-headed person immediately found him and led him away.

“You are different, lucky elf,”

It scrutinized Ruan Xuelan, commenting, “The CEO personally appointed you as his secretary. You can now go to the top floor as an A-level personnel. Humph, such things do happen, you know.”

The rabbit merely gave a brief instruction, then swiftly scurried back into the room to watch the commotion.

Ruan Xuelan, bewildered, was escorted by two giant bodyguards to the top floor, arriving at this place filled with captivating fragrance, a place everyone dreamed of. He stepped on the soft leather carpet, slowly walking through the brightly lit corridor, and the luxurious black door opened the moment he approached.

The room shimmered with golden light. The Evil God, at this moment, held a glass of red wine—or something similar—leaning against the massive floor-to-ceiling window, gazing into the distance with a perfectly sculpted pose of melancholy.

The human’s face immediately turned pale, and he leaned against the doorframe, looking as if he would collapse at any moment, questioning:

“You… it’s you again? Why are you clinging to me? What do you want to do to me?”

His fearful demeanor was utterly captivating. A section of his fair neck was slightly lowered, his eyes immediately turned red, and tears began to well up, like an innocent white rabbit. Even though he had already passed many instances with high scores under his protection, he still looked so timid.

At this moment, the black-haired, red-eyed Evil God immediately smirked slightly.

“All those other people are dust compared to you. Only when I see you does my heart truly begin to beat again.”

The so-called deity said affectionately, “I’ll pay you five thousand silver coins a month, Xuelan, that’s my proof for keeping you by my side. Come, stay here and be my personal secretary.”

Even the horror on Ruan Xuelan’s face was interrupted for a few seconds by these words.

In fact, Medusa, far away in the main world, was quite confident in her creation. She had already figured out that controlling an entire world like Charon was not her strong suit. Therefore, ignoring the System’s frantic urging, she independently lowered the average energy consumption of each instance and separated the Evil God and the Child of Fortune from the very beginning.

Although this somewhat reduced the fortune value gained from slapping faces… it was better than nothing. It wasn’t too late to make a grand appearance at the end. She had also diligently updated the Evil God’s quotes; although she couldn’t replicate Charon’s computational precision, there had clearly been significant improvements.

The System was still completely unaware of this adjustment.

The Evil God turned around, his long robe, usually adorned with rubies and obsidian when making an appearance, now replaced by an exceptionally handsome man holding a crystal-clear wine glass, his expensive suit accentuating his long and slender waistline.

His long black hair cascaded behind him, exuding an invisible oppressive force. Aside from a slightly unnatural stutter in his movements, everything was perfect.

Ruan Xuelan couldn’t help but hold his breath, his cheeks unnaturally flushed, and his retorts caught in his throat.

It had to be said, the last words the Evil God had spoken had deeply shaken him. Compared to such accusations, accepting this Evil God who offered him various special treatments was clearly more satisfying to him.

The Evil God revealed a meaningful smile, telling him that he had already registered his employee level as A and was preparing to make a high-profile appearance with him at the next employee meeting.

Ruan Xuelan involuntarily sat down in the chair next to him.

This was the pinnacle of power. Only a small fraction of people could stand in the CEO’s office; most ordinary employees could only stop at the elevator entrance, notifying them through a communicator that they had delivered the corresponding materials; only a few exceptionally good department heads could come to the CEO’s office to report their duties. The Evil God completely ignored them, and they bowed and scraped to Ruan Xuelan, a feeling he found somewhat satisfying.

His attitude softened slightly, though his eyes were still tearful, and he looked fearful.

Everything was proceeding perfectly.

Until the communicator rang again:

“Excuse me, there’s a document to be delivered to the CEO’s office.”

The tone on the other end was cold, “Office D234, very important, ordered to be delivered personally to Special Assistant Ruan. I am currently waiting at the elevator entrance; please come and receive it.”