He Wuning brought the freeloaders back to the safe zone.
Ever since He Wuning cut him off earlier, Lin Shuangshi hadn’t said another word. He seemed unusually quiet and well‑behaved, but when getting off the vehicle, he still called out to Yi Luo again.
Yi Luo looked extremely headache‑stricken. “Seriously, Master? You’re still on this?”
“Sorry,” Lin Shuangshi said bluntly.
Yi Luo froze for a moment.
Lin Shuangshi spoke earnestly: “I thought about it carefully just now. I’ve always believed your attitude was wrong, but in reality, you completed every task seriously.”
“Our duty shouldn’t be judged by attitude. I was biased against you. I’m sorry.”
Yi Luo sucked in a cold breath, rubbing at the goosebumps on his arms. “Come on, man, aren’t you taking this too seriously? I didn’t even say anything to you.”
“Your evaluation of me is your business,” Lin Shuangshi said stiffly. “Apologizing for my own mistakes is mine.”
Yi Luo couldn’t help laughing and crying at the same time. “Then shouldn’t you also thank your life mentor He Wuning for enlightening you?”
Lin Shuangshi thought seriously for a moment—then actually nodded and turned to look at He Wuning.
He Wuning instantly looked like he was facing a deadly enemy. “Are you sick? Why are you dragging me into this!”
Yi Luo smiled brightly. “We share hardship and blessings together. Remember our team name?”
“All in the Same Boat!”
He Wuning: “…”
Lin Shuangshi looked like he really intended to offer him a sincere thanks. He Wuning quickly took several steps back. “I’m going to the tech department.”
He bolted, displaying his abnormal agility to its fullest.
As long as I run fast enough, Lin Shuangshi’s gratitude can’t catch me!
Yi Luo blinked. “You can do that?!”
He hurriedly chased after him, calling back, “Don’t follow us! We’re going to the tech department—you might get dragged off for experiments!”
Lin Shuangshi: “…”
Lu Bai also jumped off the milk‑tea cart. “Ah—wait for me!”
The healer followed quickly. “Hey, you can’t run! The tech department isn’t going anywhere, slow down!”
It was so lively it didn’t feel like they were in a life‑or‑death game at all. Even Lin Shuangshi, whose expression was always stern, couldn’t help loosening up a bit.
Zuo Qianming watched the group storm into the lab in a whirlwind, his expression turning a bit odd.
He was already used to being seen as a weirdo by normal people, but looking at Yi Luo and He Wuning, he couldn’t help thinking these two were weirdos too.
He looked them up and down, then casually pulled cookies from a cabinet and handed them over. He patted Yi Luo’s shoulder. “Come test a gun.”
Yi Luo waved him off. “Later. Let me rest first.”
“Ningning.” A cheerful head poked in through the door—it was He Wuning’s younger brother, He Anan. Behind him trailed Qi Hong, already looking like his devoted little follower.
He Anan sat next to He Wuning. “I heard a huge noise from the tech department earlier, but it didn’t sound like an explosion, so I figured it had to be you guys.”
“You’re the only ones in the whole tech department who have this much youthful energy.”
He Wuning’s face was blank. “Being described as ‘youthful’ by my younger brother feels…awkward.”
He Anan responsibly changed his phrasing. “Then what should I say? Still vigorous in your old age? An old steed ready to gallop again?”
He Wuning’s expression became complicated.
Lu Bai swung her legs, cautiously inching closer to Yi Luo. She lowered her voice. “Big Bro Yi… you really aren’t coming back?”
Yi Luo raised a brow, not answering directly. Propping his chin up, he asked, “What’s wrong? Without me, does the entire Special Operations Divison lack a handsome big brother like me?”
He Wuning took the time to throw him a disdainful remark: “Shameless.”
Yi Luo: “…”
Lu Bai chuckled twice. “Everyone’s fine… we just kinda miss you.”
She looked up at him expectantly. “They said you might be taking a break like Uncle Bai did. I thought you were injured.”
Yi Luo’s gaze flickered.
Even though they publicly claimed that Bai Yan left the Operations Department due to health issues, the members of the Special Operations Division who were in similar positions more or less knew the real reason he left.
Only someone like Lu Bai—still too young to understand the complicated emotions of adults—would believe it completely and sincerely worry about Yi Luo’s health.
Yi Luo reached out and patted her head. “I’m perfectly fine. Didn’t you see how majestic I looked blowing up the Seaweed King’s heart?”
Zuo Qianming suddenly cut in: “Wait, the Seaweed King’s heart? I’m very interested. Did you bring back any scraps?”
Yi Luo’s expression became strange. “Scraps of… a heart?”
“What kind of freak would casually pick that up?”
“Tsk.” Zuo Qianming glared at him. “You have zero scientific spirit.”
He Wuning was holding a cookie in his mouth while chatting lazily with He Anan. Amid the occasional explosion-like sounds from Zuo Qianming’s experiments, the entire research lab somehow felt strangely peaceful.
He Wuning was staying at Yi Luo’s dorm again that night.
Xue Xun had once suggested bringing them another folding bed, but Yi Luo refused. According to him, sleeping on the sofa occasionally was no big deal.
He Wuning didn’t know what Yi Luo was thinking. Drying his hair, he looked up at the sky through the window.
There had been a minor commotion in the lab that afternoon—Qi Hong had seen something again.
He saw that the number of game zones had increased to six, and heard the Voice of the World mention something about a new version launching. Xue Xun and Li Liangzi were already holding emergency meetings overnight, trying to gather more intel.
He Wuning had also asked the Voice of the World a question, but it only replied: “All information is subject to the official announcement. Please wait patiently, Administrator Candidate.”
He narrowed his eyes at the sky. There was almost no moon tonight; the heavy clouds spread across the sky like a suffocating blanket.
He wasn’t sure whether it was the ripple effect of everything he’d heard earlier, or whether his strange intuition was flaring up again—but something felt wrong.
A hand pressed down on his head. He Wuning, lost in thought, instinctively turned and attempted a counterattack, but Yi Luo raised a hand to block it and held the back of his head to keep him from hitting the window.
With a half-smile, Yi Luo arched an eyebrow. “What are you thinking about so hard? You really think you’ll get ambushed even in my room?”
He Wuning glared, displeased. “Why are you touching my head?”
Yi Luo shrugged, steadying his head and making him stand straight. He stood beside him, took the towel off He Wuning’s head, and said, “You’ve been drying your hair for like fifteen minutes. I was afraid you’d rub yourself bald.”
“What’s wrong with you? PTSD kicking in?”
He laughed with schadenfreude. “Have you ever kept a cat?”
He Wuning had no idea why he suddenly brought that up. He scowled. “No. My mom’s allergic to fur.”
Yi Luo looked regretful. “Then you’ve never seen it. You know how anxious cats sometimes groom themselves like crazy? My grandpa had a cat when I was a kid. After we moved once, it got so anxious it licked a bald patch onto its own butt. Just like you were rubbing your hair just now—”
He Wuning kicked him. Yi Luo dodged but still stubbornly finished the sentence: “—exactly the same.”
He Wuning narrowed his eyes, then suddenly punched upward. Yi Luo blocked casually, seeming amused, completely unbothered about sparring. But even while moving, he still talked nonsense: “Careful. Don’t hit the furniture. Xue Xun will make us explain it tomorrow.”
He Wuning, caught off guard, stopped his hand, tugged at his collar, and looked away, losing interest. “Forget it. I already showered. Fighting makes you sweaty.”
Yi Luo shrugged regretfully. “What were you thinking about? You look annoyed.”
He Wuning glanced at him, hesitated, then said, “The new version.”
“I just… have a bad feeling.”
“You think it’ll be tonight?” Yi Luo raised an eyebrow.
“Last time was also late at night.” He Wuning tilted his head upward. “Do you remember what time the last update was?”
“Eight p.m.” Yi Luo thought for a moment, then corrected more precisely. “City A time.”
He Wuning checked the time. “It’s almost eight.”
The seconds ticked by. Yi Luo ended up standing beside him, both of them looking up at the gloomy sky.
At exactly eight o’clock City A’s time, the familiar, ominous electronic voice echoed across the sky.
He Wuning let out a breath—he wasn’t sure if it was relief or tension. “It’s here.”
Yi Luo frowned. “What should come will come.”
“Congratulations to *** players for completing the occupation task. Blue Star now contains 3 complete game zones. The second nonstop update is complete. Version 1.2 has finished random testing and officially goes live today.”
He Wuning raised an eyebrow. Previously, the announcement had clearly said “Blue Star players” completed the task. Now the part before “players” was censored. Could this be referring to the origin of the monsters?
Occupation task?
“Max-level challenge missions unlocked. Certain monster level caps increased. Added 3 new monster types, 2 mobile dungeons, 2 regular dungeons, 3 new field bosses. Increased drop rate of special items…”
“Fixed bug that allowed unlimited players in dungeons through special skills. Fixed bug where untested versions launched early…”
“*** players have completed the collection task. Limited-time event [Oracle] activated. Event begins tomorrow at 8 a.m. Please check your personal communication device for details. This is a major update; please confirm individually.”
“Enjoy the game.”
The two exchanged a look and opened their communication devices. Sure enough, the Voice of the World’s message was there.
Yi Luo glanced at his screen. “I got an email. You got yours directly through the chatbox?”
He Wuning lifted an eyebrow. “Is that all the privilege an administrator candidate gets? I’ll ask if it’ll give me a word-for-word explanation.”
Righteously, he sent the question—and surprisingly, the Voice of the World responded.
“I am happy to assist you, respected Administrator Candidate. Please feel free to ask; I will answer.”
Yi Luo narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know why, but I’m really annoyed by this class distinction. Ask it how I can beat it up first.”
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The author has something to say:
Voice of the World: Freeloading players have no human rights. Loudly righteous but totally broke.jpg
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