1: Chapter 1 A crack appeared in the brick wall on a stormy night.

The torrential rain hammered against the safety helmets, creating a dense, rhythmic pattering sound.

Chen Fan hunched his back, his shoulders burdened by a red brick stack half the height of a man. Rainwater poured in along the brim of his helmet, sliding down his spine and soaking his washed-out work pants.

His knees were trembling, and the muscles in his calves felt as if they were being seared by fire—this was his thirty-seventh trip of the day. From the brick pile to the B-Zone warehouse, a three-hundred-meter muddy path, he had already traveled back and forth thirty-seven times.

"What are you dawdling for?!" A hoarse, cursing voice exploded, muffled by the sound of thunder.

Chen Fan looked up and saw Zhao Iron Pillar standing in the rain, a cigarette hanging from his mouth, his green-painted iron rod glinting coldly under the streetlights.

This foreman's hoodlum son always liked to tuck the iron rod behind his waist, claiming it was for "warding off thieves," but last month, when Old Zhang drank half a bottle of the construction site's water, he was beaten by this very rod until he knelt for half an hour.

"Brother Zhao, Fanzi moved forty blocks this time." Old Horse Head's coughing came from the side.

The fifty-eight-year-old fellow worker hunched his back; the brick stack on his shoulder was ten blocks fewer than Chen Fan's, yet he was already gasping for breath.

His rubber boots sank into the mud, his pant legs rolled up to his knees, revealing calves covered in purple-blue veins—the result of being hit by steel bars last month. Without money for the hospital, they would ache uncontrollably on rainy days.

Chen Fan gritted his teeth.

Forty bricks, sixty pounds.

He heard the clicking of his joints, like an old, falling-apart car.

But he didn't dare stop—his wages from last month were still being withheld by the foreman. He had to scrape together enough money to pay rent to his landlord, buy a bag of rice, and bring two packs of cold medicine for Old Horse Head's sick wife.

Before his father passed away, he had gripped Chen Fan's hand and said, "Don't be a coward like me." He remembered that, so no matter how tired he was, he had to carry on.

The sky suddenly cracked with a muffled thunderclap.

Chen Fan's footsteps faltered, and the bricks on his shoulder swayed.

Just as he was about to steady himself, a blood-red light screen suddenly tore through the rain curtain, as if someone had splashed red ink across the sky.

The light was so piercing that one couldn't open their eyes, and even the thunder seemed to fade away.

"Ding—"

A mechanical female voice exploded in everyone's ears, and Chen Fan's temples throbbed.

He heard Old Horse Head's bricks crash into the mud with a "clatter," and Zhao Iron Pillar's cigarette drop to the ground with a "plop."

"Global Player binding program initiated.

All humans have automatically become 'Game Players'. Those who do not pass the beginner dungeon will be data-cleared."

A chill crept up the back of Chen Fan's neck.

He stared at the back of his hand. Pale blue light spots appeared on his pale green veins, like a QR code being fast-forwarded. After two "beep" sounds, they turned into a stream of data and burrowed into his skin.

"Beginner mission issued.

Mission content: Move 100 red bricks to the B-Zone warehouse.

Time limit: 30 minutes.

Failure penalty: Eradication.

Countdown starting—29:59, 29:58..."

"Motherfucker!" Zhao Iron Pillar was the first to react, his green iron rod hitting the ground with a "clang," splashing muddy water.

He grabbed the collar of the nearest laborer. "Who's playing this prank? Believe it or not, I'll call the police!"

Old Horse Head squatted in the mud, trembling as he tried to pick up the scattered bricks.

Chen Fan saw his hands shaking, his knuckles as white as bone. "Fanzi, my old lady is waiting for me to bring the medicine back..." His voice was choked with sobs. "She coughed up blood last month. The doctor said if we drag it out any longer..."

Chen Fan's Adam's apple bobbed.

He remembered how Old Horse Head had turned out every pocket three days ago to scrape together money for medicine, and he thought of the three hundred yuan he had hidden under his pillow—money he had saved by eating nothing but steamed buns all month.

He restacked the bricks, rainwater dripping from his chin onto the bricks. "I'll help you move them."

When the countdown hit 25 minutes, Chen Fan's shoulders were already raw.

The soaked work clothes rubbed against his wounds like sandpaper, and every step was agonizing.

He counted: "Seventy-six, seventy-seven..." Old Horse Head followed behind, resting for half a minute every five bricks, his coughing sounding like a broken bellows.

"Ten minutes left!" Zhao Iron Pillar suddenly laughed. He picked up his iron rod and tapped on Chen Fan's brick stack. "Stupid kid, so what if you finish moving them? I heard this crappy system's rewards can be stolen. Once you're done, I'll take both the bricks and the rewards!"

Chen Fan's fingernails dug into his palms.

He remembered last winter when the foreman ran off with the money. They had waited for three days in a construction shed at ten degrees below zero, only to end up with an IOU promising payment "after the New Year."

He thought of his father lying on a bed in a dilapidated rental room, unable to afford even a bottle of cough syrup, and in the end...

"Ninety-nine!" Old Horse Head's cry rang out.

Chen Fan looked up; the iron door of the B-Zone warehouse was just five steps away.

He gritted his teeth and rushed over, the last brick landing on the stack with a "thud"—exactly one hundred blocks.

"Mission complete." When the mechanical voice sounded, Chen Fan collapsed into the mud.

He looked at the light screen that had appeared on his wrist: [Reward: 100 Gold Coins].

"Ha!" Zhao Iron Pillar rushed over, the tip of his iron rod lifting Chen Fan's chin. "Hand it over. The New Player leader said that the rewards of the weak belong to the strong."

Chen Fan wanted to dodge, but his whole body felt as if his tendons and bones had been pulled out.

He saw Old Horse Head lunge forward, his withered hand grabbing Zhao Iron Pillar's wrist. "Brother Zhao, Fanzi... Fanzi helped me move them..."

"You old thing!" The iron rod swept horizontally, and Old Horse Head was sent flying, crashing into the brick pile.

His coughing suddenly stopped, his eyes wide, staring at his own chest—where an eerie blue light was seeping out, like crushed stars.

"Player [Old Horse Head] mission timed out. Eradication countdown: 3..."

The blood rushed to Chen Fan's head.

He crawled over to pull Old Horse Head, but he saw the old man's body beginning to turn transparent, rainwater passing through his arm and dripping into the mud.

"2..."

"Fanzi..." Old Horse Head's voice was as light as a feather. "My old lady... don't let her know..."

"1..."

Chen Fan's hand passed through the old man's shoulder.

When the last trace of light dissipated, he touched the medicine packet in Old Horse Head's pocket—a crumpled plastic bag still retaining body heat.

The rain was still falling.

Chen Fan knelt in the muddy water, rain mixing with tears as they splattered on the ground.

He stared at the light screen on his wrist. The 100 Gold Coins from just a moment ago suddenly began to flash, and a red pop-up window appeared: [Critical Hit Check Triggered! Multiplier: 2x].

The moment the golden light exploded, Chen Fan's pupils shrank to pinpricks.

He saw the number jump from 100 to 200 and heard a "ding" in his head, as if something had been ignited.

"What are you spacing out for?" Zhao Iron Pillar's iron rod poked his back. "Transfer the gold coins to me!"

Chen Fan looked up.

Rainwater streamed down his face. He couldn't see Zhao Iron Pillar's expression clearly, but he could hear his own heartbeat thundering like a drum.

The look in Old Horse Head's eyes before he disappeared swirled in his mind, and the sensation of his father's hand growing cold in his palm drilled into his bones.

"The system said rewards could crit," he said softly, his voice drowned out by the sound of the rain.

"What did you say?"

Chen Fan wiped the water from his face and stared into the distance.

In the waste pile in the corner of the construction site, several swaying shadows were moving this way.

Their skin was a grayish-blue, their eyes were two black holes, and one of them had half its face rotted away, exposing white, ghastly gums—these things hadn't been there just a moment ago.

"Construction site wandering corpses." He heard himself say.

Zhao Iron Pillar looked in the direction of his gaze and cursed.

Chen Fan, however, didn't listen anymore.

He looked down at his hands, his knuckles white from the effort, but the fire in his heart burned brighter and brighter: If rewards could double, what about experience? Equipment? If he could make every effort count for double...

When a new system prompt sounded, Chen Fan stood up.

He wiped the mud and water from his face and looked at those swaying wandering corpses.

The rain was still falling, but he suddenly felt it wasn't as cold anymore.

"New mission issued..."

Chen Fan moved his shoulders.

His raw wounds were still aching, but his fists were clenched tight.

Old Horse Head's medicine packet was still in his pocket, carrying the last trace of warmth.

He stared at the nearest wandering corpse, a muffled laugh rolling out of his throat—it sounded like self-mockery, yet also like a vow.

"I... am going to survive."