Chapter 1: The Daily Life of a Transcendent Being

On the bustling street, people came and went.

At the corner of a certain intersection, a large screen on a skyscraper was displaying… an advertisement.

“The revolutionary virtual holographic online game, jointly developed by nations across the globe: 【Horizon】, will launch simultaneously worldwide on August 31st at 12:00 PM.

This game…”

Although it seemed strange for an advertisement about an online game to be playing on a public service screen, not a single person found it odd…

In fact, it wasn’t just this large screen; a closer look would reveal that promotions for the game called 【Horizon】 were everywhere.

When this virtual holographic game, which had previously only existed in literary works, suddenly appeared before the public in early 2256, it certainly caused a huge stir.

Many people expressed their anticipation, but naturally, there were also those who were skeptical.

After all, even though technology was advancing rapidly, creating a game akin to a second world involved overcoming an immense number of challenges.

However, as time went on and more information about the game was released, these voices of doubt gradually faded away, replaced by widespread eager anticipation.

But in the next moment—

“A thief!” a sharp female voice erupted from the crowd.

“Get out of the way!

Get out of the way!

Everyone, get the hell out of my way!” a red-haired man burst out of the crowd, shouting as his feet never slowed.

Due to advancements in technology and the improved performance of robots, more and more jobs were being transitioned from human labor to robotic completion.

The reduction in job positions, in turn, led to a growing number of unemployed people.

As unemployment rose, so did the crime rate.

Even though law enforcement was far stronger than in the past, it still seemed somewhat powerless in the face of the ever-increasing crime rate.

Perhaps due to the red-haired man’s intimidating presence, or simply because no one wanted to get involved, the pedestrians on the once-crowded path not only didn’t stop him but even tacitly parted to clear a way for him.

However, not everyone chose to step aside—with most people moving to the sides of the pavement, the one person who didn’t move stood out conspicuously.

As if oblivious to everything happening in front of him, this man named Mo Ming continued forward with unhurried steps, his lazy aura a stark contrast to the busy, frantic pedestrians around him.

If both of them maintained their current paths without changing course, they would collide in a few seconds.

Just as the surrounding onlookers were wondering if the man was sleepwalking, Mo Ming finally reacted… but he neither moved aside nor showed any intention of intercepting, instead speaking in a listless tone… or rather, half a sentence.

“If you don’t come out now, I’ll…”

Before Mo Ming could finish his sentence, a white figure shot out from the chaotic crowd, pouncing on the red-haired man as swiftly as a hawk locking onto its prey.

The red-haired man only saw a blur, and in the next instant, he was already thrown to the ground.

A remarkably handsome young man mercilessly planted his foot on the red-haired man’s back and bent down to pick up the wallet from the ground.

This suddenly-appeared young man had short black hair, wore a white hoodie, and had a very composed smile on his face, giving off an impression that was both sunny and capable.

His posture was erect and his gaze sharp; even ignoring his agile skills, one could tell at a glance that he was no ordinary person.

“The thief has been caught!” Seeing the thief subdued, the crowd’s lost courage seemed to return, and they swarmed forward, surrounding the red-haired man completely.

“The police will be here soon.” The man glanced around, his gaze falling on the woman who had previously shouted “a thief!” After confirming the ID information in the wallet, he returned it to her, “Here, your wallet.

Be more careful next time… The police will arrive shortly, please cooperate with them and give a statement.”

After saying this, the man, as if in a hurry, immediately slipped into the crowd and disappeared in no time.

As for the subdued red-haired man, surrounded by the crowd, he had no way to escape and could only surrender.

A short while later, in a coffee shop several hundred meters from the incident, Mo Ming pushed open the door and walked in, followed by the man in white who had just acted heroically.

Since it was a weekday morning, there weren’t many people in the coffee shop.

“You sure ran fast,” the man in white behind Mo Ming said to him.

“I don’t want to get into trouble,” Mo Ming shrugged and found a random seat to sit down.

“One house blend coffee, one orange juice,” the man in white first called out to the owner, then sat down opposite Mo Ming.

From the man’s tone, it was clear he was a regular here.

“Brother Han, what brings you to me this time?” Mo Ming asked bluntly as soon as the man in white sat down.

This man, called Brother Han, was named Han Ge.

He was a member of the Supernatural Management Bureau, and his current mission was to “monitor” Mo Ming.

Decades ago, on the day a meteorite heading for Earth was shattered and its fragments scattered across the globe, the bodies of a portion of humanity began to undergo certain changes.

Just like in the various literary works that had been passed down from the last century, they gained all sorts of superpowers.

The Supernatural Management Bureau was a newly established department created to manage and restrain these unaffiliated superhumans.

Strictly speaking, Mo Ming could also be considered one of the superhumans under supervision.

The reason for the word “considered” was because Mo Ming’s situation was quite special—he was a Transcendent Being.

A so-called Transcendent Being was a creature that had surpassed the limits of life—you could say it had broken the shackles of its genetic lock or removed its biological limiter… In short, Mo Ming was just such a Transcendent Being.

During the period when Mo Ming’s existence was first exposed, countless individuals and organizations naturally wanted to capture him, to either unlock the secrets of life or create powerful biological weapons.

However, as a Transcendent Being, Mo Ming possessed invincible power—after he thwarted countless organizations that tried to capture him for research, people began to realize that the power of this Transcendent Being was beyond their capacity to handle, so gradually, no one dared to provoke Mo Ming anymore.

After discovering that Mo Ming had no intention of causing trouble, the country also tacitly permitted the existence of this Transcendent Being.

But Mo Ming was, after all, an uncontrollable factor, and it seemed inappropriate to just leave him be.

So, the Supernatural Management Bureau reluctantly dispatched a team to secretly “monitor” Mo Ming, just as they would other powerful, unaffiliated superhumans.

It was just that the surveillance on Mo Ming was merely a symbolic formality; after all, if Mo Ming truly wanted to cause trouble, they would be absolutely powerless to stop him.

And Han Ge and his team were the unlucky ones assigned to “monitor” Mo Ming… at least, that’s what everyone thought at the time.

However, Mo Ming surprised everyone.

Not only did he not show any aversion to Han Ge’s team’s arrival, but he was also very understanding of their work and actively cooperated.

After all, Mo Ming never intended to stir up trouble, and he understood the predicament of Han Ge… and the Supernatural Management Bureau behind him.

A symbolic bit of cooperation was beneficial for everyone.

With mutual understanding on both sides, getting along became exceptionally pleasant—Mo Ming wouldn’t proactively pick fights, which would have made things difficult for Han Ge’s team.

In exchange, Han Ge’s team was responsible for helping Mo Ming resolve some minor troubles that he would have otherwise had to handle himself.

Just like what had just happened, while catching that thief was a simple matter for Mo Ming, it looked better on the surface if Han Ge, with his official capacity, handled it.

And so, through this give-and-take, Han Ge and his squad ended up befriending Mo Ming, becoming some of his few friends… and because of his name, Han Ge was called “Brother Han, Brother Han” all day long by Mo Ming and his teammates.

And as they were some of his few friends, Mo Ming took very good care of Han Ge’s squad.

With Mo Ming backing them, Han Ge’s team, which had originally been looked down upon in the Supernatural Management Bureau, found their influence had grown.

Generally, the members of Han Ge’s squad “monitored” Mo Ming from the shadows and wouldn’t appear before him proactively like Han Ge was doing now, unless absolutely necessary.

“Don’t worry, there are no special instructions from above,” Han Ge waved his hand, reassuring Mo Ming.

“I came to see you this time with a personal suggestion… Aren’t you usually bored?

How about trying an online game?”

Hearing Han Ge’s suggestion, Mo Ming immediately showed a look of disdain: “That’s not a very funny joke…”

“No, I’m not joking, I’m serious.” Han Ge took a sip of his coffee.

“I see you looking bored to death every day, so I thought you might be able to find some fun in an online game.”

“Eh… While it’s true I’m very bored, if it’s playing games, then count me out.” Mo Ming sighed.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried.

I just can’t bring myself to sit there and play games.”

“No, the online game I’m talking about this time isn’t a game in the traditional sense, but a holographic game that uses virtual reality technology—the one that’s about to launch, 【Horizon】,” Han Ge explained… Knowing Mo Ming, he had most likely ignored all the ads.

In this age of information overload, a game so heavily promoted by the nation… and even by countries worldwide, with ads blanketing everything, was probably unknown to no one except Mo Ming.

“Tch… A holographic fighting game?

That’s even more boring.

Why would you want me to play that?” Mo Ming scoffed, but then he immediately realized something.

“Don’t tell me they’ve already figured out virtual sandbox technology?”

In fact, holographic games had been developed several years ago… the kind where you logged in by wearing a special gaming helmet or entering a game pod, controlling it with your brainwaves.

Although the crucial breakthrough of BCI (Brain-Computer Interface)… that is, the civilian application of brain-computer interface technology, had been achieved, due to limitations in computer performance at the time, holographic games initially only had fighting genres.

Later, FPS (First-Person Shooter) and… “First-Person Shooter” genres were added.

Even with the current development of virtual reality technology, holographic games still hadn’t evolved into more genres.

At most, the game’s sensory feedback and graphics had improved to a certain extent, becoming extremely close to, or even indistinguishable from, the real world.

This was because these two genres had relatively low requirements for physical space; a fighting game only needed a few dozen square meters, while an FPS at most required a few thousand.

Moreover, they both involved relatively monotonous scenarios without many variables, which meant lower computational demands.

Compared to fighting or shooter games, the requirements for a holographic MMORPG (Massively Multiplayer Online Role-Playing Game) were on a whole different level.

The MMORPGs that still survived today had all more or less incorporated sandbox elements, offering great freedom.

Creating a virtual space capable of supporting an MMORPG required technology of an exceptionally high caliber.

Although he paid no attention to advertisements, Mo Ming wasn’t a complete hermit; he had played holographic games before… As a Transcendent Being, it wasn’t just his physical body that surpassed biological limits; his reaction speed and other aspects were also at a transcendent level.

Therefore, even setting aside physical factors and using identical game characters, ordinary humans were still completely unable to compete with Mo Ming on the same stage.

Thus, after playing holographic fighting games for a short period, Mo Ming gave up on this form of entertainment, which for him was no different from bullying kindergarteners… The gap between the opponents was simply too vast for Mo Ming to derive any pleasure from the contest.

If bullying the weak could bring Mo Ming pleasure, this Transcendent Being wouldn’t be sitting harmlessly in a coffee shop drinking juice right now.

“It’s been solved,” Han Ge nodded.

“I heard that not only have they solved virtual sandbox technology, but they can also completely simulate the five senses, like taste and smell.

It’s said to be a milestone breakthrough.”

“Isn’t that basically creating a world… So technology has already reached this level,” Mo Ming marveled.

“So, want to give it a try?

Today’s the 27th, the game launches on the 31st, so there are four days left.

If you want to play, I can get you a game pod… oh right, you already have one.

If you want to play, I’ll get you a chip,” Han Ge said, raising an eyebrow.

Because virtual reality technology had become widespread, computers had also been upgraded accordingly.

Based on the principle of convenience, all holographic games used the same login device.

However, due to the complexity of holographic games themselves, a single device couldn’t be loaded with multiple games at once.

To play a game, you needed to install its corresponding chip, and different games required switching to different chips.

It sounded a bit like the game discs used for installation many years ago, but isn’t so-called technology just a constant cycle of repetition?

As he spoke, Han Ge pulled a small booklet from his pocket and handed it to Mo Ming, looking as though he had prepared it long ago: “You can take a look at the introduction first.”

Mo Ming took the booklet and began to flip through it—

Global simultaneous launch, using the world’s number one optical computer “Pangu” as the server, no server regions—all players in a single world, accounts bound to real-life identity…

Although it was called a booklet, it was only two or three pages long, looking like a recruitment ad for some school.

The introduction was very concise and targeted, written in a very distinctive handwriting—it was clearly prepared specially by Han Ge.

“Oh?” Seeing the last point, Mo Ming’s expression finally turned somewhat surprised.

“It supports the exchange between virtual and real currency?”

Seeing this, Mo Ming understood why this game was being promoted so heavily on a global scale.

To put it bluntly, it was still due to overpopulation and high unemployment rates.

Because the unemployment rate was too high, public order had been deteriorating.

Instead of trying all sorts of ways to maintain security, it was better to just throw all these people into a game.

But to do so… would require almost perversely strict standards for the game’s quality.

After all, if it wasn’t excellent… or rather, perfect, it would be impossible to keep everyone tied to a single game.

Moreover, the fact that countries all over the world were cooperating on this clearly indicated an attempt to solve the global unemployment problem in one fell swoop.

Although he didn’t know the specifics of what made those people so confident in this game, Mo Ming’s interest was now slightly piqued.

“Yeah,” Han Ge nodded.

Seeing Mo Ming’s look of understanding, he didn’t elaborate.

“So, what do you think?

Interested?”

“Alright, since you’ve put it that way, I’ll go check it out,” Mo Ming nodded.

“Then I’ll bring the chip over to you tomorrow.” After saying that, Han Ge stood up directly.

“It’s about time.

I’m leaving now.”

After all, Han Ge was nominally in charge of monitoring Mo Ming, so it was best to avoid such open meetings for personal reasons.

So, Han Ge left immediately after he finished speaking… and he even paid the bill on his way out, leaving Mo Ming, who had been about to take out his wallet, feeling a little awkward.

Mo Ming slowly finished the orange juice in his cup before getting up and leaving the coffee shop.

Because of Han Ge’s invitation, Mo Ming finally started to pay a little attention to the advertisements around him… No matter which direction he looked, he could see promotions for that online game—on posters, billboards, and even in the commercial breaks on public screens.

This was just the scene on the streets; if one were to go online where information was even more abundant, the promotions for this game would likely be even more numerous.

Indeed, apart from the deaf, mute, and those in a vegetative state, only someone like Mo Ming, who paid zero attention to ads, would be unaware of this famous game.

But as Mo Ming walked, he suddenly turned his head to look in a certain direction.

“Hm?

Over there… is someone fighting?

Might as well go take a look.”

In the next instant, Mo Ming abruptly vanished from the spot, without attracting anyone’s attention.

This was the daily life of a Transcendent Being.