Mu Sicheng was already awake by the time Muke's boss picked him up.
He leaned lazily against the back of Bai Liu's chair, the jacket Bai Liu had given him draped over his shoulder. He quickly realized that Bai Liu's determination to take part in the game was unwavering. Considering Bai Liu's style of play, Mu Sicheng knew his heart couldn't be easily shaken.
Mu Sicheng watched from the sidelines as Bai Liu lured Muke onto the boat of thieves, but he didn't bother sleeping. Once he understood that Bai Liu wouldn't be swayed, all Mu Sicheng could do was tell him—seriously—that he wasn't going to mess around and participate in this extremely dangerous league.
But the jacket Bai Liu had given him softened his tone. "What, did you get that little beauty to come aboard?"
"You're calling Muke 'little beauty.' Are you gay?" Bai Liu glanced at him. "Is Muke your type?"
Mu Sicheng choked instantly. "I'm straight!!! Can't you recognize a joke?!"
Bai Liu nodded casually. "Got it. Judging by your face, you have something to say to me?"
Before Mu Sicheng could open his mouth, Bai Liu found a bench and sat down opposite him.
Bai Liu's posture was relaxed, but he still managed to exude an oppressive presence that made Mu Sicheng go from slouching in Bai Liu's reclining chair to sitting up straight.
Bai Liu looked at him blandly. "Let me guess. You want to tell me that you're definitely not going to be part of this gaming thing with us."
He leaned back on his desk, tapping his fingers lightly. "Can you give me a reason that'll convince me? Why don't you want to join the league?"
"High death rate, high risk, not enough people, not enough copies," Bai Liu listed off effortlessly before looking up at him. "I can take care of all that. You just have to participate. Do you have any other concerns?"
Mu Sicheng nearly laughed at Bai Liu's calm, relaxed demeanor.
If this had been before their last game, he might have been fooled by Bai Liu's illusion of having everything under control. But now, Mu Sicheng knew better. After one game, he had become more aware of Bai Liu's true nature—he was a gambler.
Even if the odds of success were low, Bai Liu was the kind of person who would still take the risk as long as the potential return was high enough.
"Those are my main concerns." Mu Sicheng's tone was uncharacteristically serious. "Bai Liu, the league is no joke. The mortality rate is insanely high. You don't have to throw away your real life for this game. Sure, it gives you a lot, but with your skill, you could totally earn points slowly. It's safer that way. Besides, in the real world, you need some kind of backup plan—"
"The real world?" Bai Liu repeated the phrase, as if savoring the words. He waited patiently for Mu Sicheng to finish his heartfelt persuasion before suddenly asking, "What did you think of Muke's last solo game clearance?"
Mu Sicheng was caught off guard. He hadn't expected Bai Liu to bring that up. But Bai Liu had just talked to Muke about it, and Mu Sicheng—too sleepy at the time—had overheard part of it.
Muke's last clearance was Day of Leaving School, a single-player horror game set in a Japanese high school.
The game itself wasn't what caught Mu Sicheng's attention—it was something else.
Muke had mentioned that the school in the game was based on the private high school he had attended in Japan, which was infamous for being haunted. A girl had jumped to her death there, and afterward, students kept dying under mysterious circumstances.
Everyone in Muke's dormitory had died in bizarre ways—except for him. That was why he had confused the game with reality and emerged injured. The game's high school was an exact replica of the one he had once attended.
It was eerily similar to something Bai Liu and his team had experienced—The Exploding Last Train was based on a real exploding last train that Bai Liu had mistakenly boarded.
Mu Sicheng was silent for two seconds. "...I don't think it's just a coincidence that two games in a row have real-life counterparts."
"That's right. I feel the same way."
"So, I think there are three possible explanations." Bai Liu pulled out a piece of paper.
He had always recorded his thoughts as they came to him—especially now, since he was certain their memories could be tampered with at will.
Since writing detailed information would result in [banned] text disappearing, Bai Liu simply wrote down a few key words. He turned the paper toward Mu Sicheng and explained in a smooth, unhurried tone.
"I believe many of the games in this system are based on real events. Some people recognize the references, while others don't. For example, you and I both know about the Mirror City bombing because we were there, but Zhang Gui doesn't. Similarly, Muke knows about his haunted Japanese high school, but you and I didn't."
"But the question is—how were these real-life events chosen as game prototypes?"
Bai Liu wrote [Scene Selection] on the paper.
"The first possibility is that the game randomly selects real-life events as horror game templates. But considering the Mirror City bombing and that haunted school, the game clearly has a tendency to pick tragic and terrifying cases. So, random selection is unlikely. Pass."
He wrote [Inspiration] and continued.
"The second possibility is that the game selects tragic and supernatural locations that the player has experienced. We already know that the game can erase people's memories. If it can read memories too, then it could take inspiration from a player's experiences and design games based on them."
"This would make it easier for players to immerse themselves in the horror setting. For example, in The Exploding Last Train, the train's layout matched my memories exactly. That level of realism is difficult to achieve unless the game is pulling from actual memories."
Mu Sicheng, deep in thought, tapped his index finger against his arm. "That sounds plausible. I think I lean toward that explanation. What about the third one?"
"There's a huge flaw in that theory—the timeline doesn't match up." Bai Liu's gaze locked onto Mu Sicheng. "Do you remember when The Exploding Last Train existed?"
Mu Sicheng frowned, thinking back. "...A while ago, right? It was there when I first entered."
Bai Liu calmly reminded him, "But the Mirror City bombing happened this year. Meaning, The Exploding Last Train was released before the bombing even occurred. Mu Sicheng, do you understand what that means?"
Mu Sicheng's face slowly changed as he grasped the implication. He turned to Bai Liu, who continued in the same smooth tone.
"It means we got the reference backward. The Exploding Last Train didn't take inspiration from the Mirror City bombing. Instead—" Bai Liu tapped the paper. "—the Mirror City bombing took inspiration from The Exploding Last Train."
He wrote [Test Phase] on the page.
Mu Sicheng felt as if ice water had been poured over his head. Stiffly, he stared at the words Bai Liu had written, the chill creeping up his spine. He understood, but he still retorted in disbelief, "That's impossible—!"
To put it in in-game terms, Mu Sicheng's sanity level had dropped below the safety line.
Bai Liu remained unbothered. "At the end of a game's development, a public beta is released—a limited test phase before full release. Only when the test phase is deemed successful is the game made official and released to everyone."
"The third possibility is that our world and this game are in a public beta and full release stage, respectively."
Bai Liu looked at Mu Sicheng, his gaze devoid of emotion.
"If that's the case, then Mu Sicheng—the 'real life' you're clinging to is no different from surviving in the game."
"So tell me—why refuse to compete for a life that is, in the end, just another game?"