102: Chapter 102 Cold Killing Intent

An unknown amount of time passed.

It might have been a few minutes, or perhaps an hour.

By the time Chen Xi regained control over his trembling body, he was no longer behind that broken wall.

He was curled up in a dilapidated cellar.

Damp earthen walls surrounded him, and the air was thick with the smell of moldy soil and a faint stench of decay.

He couldn't even remember how he had gotten here.

The instinct to flee.

That was all.

But that hellish scene was like a red-hot branding iron, searing his mind over and over again.

The scream that pierced the sky the moment the infant was tossed into the air.

The expression of pain mixed with despair on the woman's face as she fell.

And those Soldiers... those devils... the distorted, excited, and enjoying laughter on their faces.

"Blegh—"

His stomach churned violently; Chen Xi leaned against the wall and began to dry heave.

He couldn't vomit anything up.

Only the bitterness of bile burned its way up his throat.

(A game...)

(This is... a game?)

He gasped for breath, sweat and tears mixing as they slid down his face.

Using every ounce of his strength, he let out a beastly, frenzied roar from the deepest part of his consciousness.

"Is this what you fucking call a 'Leisurely Historical Tour'?!"

"Answer me!!"

The view in the Livestream room showed only a dark corner of the cellar.

But every viewer could feel the near-shattering fury erupting from the screen.

The system.

Silence.

"Speak!" Chen Xi's teeth chattered and ground together. "Don't you have prompts?! Don't you have guidance?! What is this now?! This is the 'Civilization Stress Test'?! Watching a group of unarmed civilians being slaughtered is the test?!"

[...]

[Warning: Player's emotional fluctuations are too extreme, which may lead to a disconnection of the neural link.]

The system's voice finally sounded.

As always, it was icy.

Without a trace of emotion.

Like the most standard straight line drawn with the most standard ruler.

[Please remain calm to continue executing the mission.]

"Calm?"

Chen Xi laughed.

His laughter was hoarse and unpleasant.

"How the fuck am I supposed to be calm?!"

"Outside is a living hell! And you want me to be calm?!"

[This is a predetermined historical event. According to system rules, the player has no right to interfere with the macro-historical trajectory.]

[Your mission is to survive and, within the permitted scope of the rules, maximize 'Civilization Contribution Points' and 'Viewer emotion points'.]

[I wish you... a pleasant game.]

It was that "pleasant game" phrase again.

Like a basin of filthy snow-water filled with ice shards.

It was dumped straight over Chen Xi's head, dousing his raging flames of anger.

Sizzle—

All the flames were extinguished.

All sound vanished as well.

The cellar fell into an absolute, deathly silence.

Chen Xi no longer roared.

He no longer questioned.

He simply leaned against the wall and slowly sat down.

He understood.

He understood completely.

To talk about humanity, morality, or bottom lines with an emotionless program composed of data and rules...

Was in itself an utterly ridiculous thing.

It would not have any kindness.

It would not have any mercy.

It was just a cold, high-and-mighty observer.

Observing this "stress test" that it had orchestrated.

And he...

Was nothing more than the lab rat it had thrown into this hell for experimentation.

(Ridiculous...)

(I am... so ridiculous...)

(To think of arguing with it...)

(To think... it could give an explanation...)

Chen Xi slowly raised his head.

He looked at the blood-colored light filtering through the gaps in the broken wooden boards at the top of the cellar.

Tear stains still hung on his face.

But in those bloodshot eyes, all the pain, all the struggle, all the anger...

Were fading away, bit by bit.

Like a receding tide.

Revealing the black, hard, cold reefs beneath.

The Livestream room was similarly dead silent.

The viewers looked at the motionless figure on the screen, not even daring to send a bullet chat.

They could feel something far more terrifying than the previous fury emanating from that man.

It was the purest... thing... left after all human emotion had been stripped away.

Finally.

Chen Xi moved.

He stood up.

His movements were slow but exceptionally steady.

He wiped his face, clearing away all the tear stains and sweat.

Then, he began to methodically check his equipment.

From his waist, he pulled out the High-Frequency Particle Blade disguised as a weeding sickle.

The blade still reflected a ghostly cold light in the dimness.

Hum—

He pressed the switch, and the blade emitted a low, pleasant hum.

He looked at the blade.

He looked for a long time.

Then, he opened the system panel, his gaze sweeping over the slingshot, Water Gun, and mosquito repellent spray one by one.

His thinking became clearer than ever before.

Calm and efficient.

(Anger... is useless.)

(Pain... is useless.)

(Questioning... is even more useless.)

(Since the system is just a cold set of rules...)

(Fine.)

(From now on, so am I.)

He was no longer doing this to complete some bullshit mission.

Nor was he doing it to please some viewers in the Livestream room.

There were only two things he needed to do.

Slaughter.

And protect.

In his own way, in this abandoned hell, he would carry out his own judgment.

From this moment on.

The cynical game streamer who would joke around in the Livestream room, Chen Xi,

Was dead.

The one who survived.

Had only one code name.

Ghost.