Chapter 22: Hide Your Death Code

Lin Kuo did indeed want to repay Sweet as the Wind‘s points.

While he was contemplating how to reply to her, he overheard Sheng Sheng’s voice call with his mother.

For her son’s sake, Sheng Sheng’s mother had thoroughly researched the Walled City’s mechanisms after the first instance.

For example, basic necessities like food and clothing required points for exchange.

Furthermore, although points could be transferred, the system would charge a hefty 50% handling fee.

If one didn’t participate in instances, they would be charged a daily fee based on their district.

In Lower B District, 50 points were deducted daily.

Once someone’s points were depleted, they would be erased by the Main God System for arrears within three days.

Sheng Sheng’s mother couldn’t help but worry.

“Sheng Sheng, when you choose an instance, you must discuss it with Mom. It’s best to choose one without a star rating. You mustn’t be greedy for the point rewards and choose a solo instance.”

Although his mother couldn’t see him, Sheng Sheng still obediently nodded.

“I know, Mom. Don’t worry.”

Hearing this, Lin Kuo silently operated his phone and studied it for a while.

Sure enough, in his personal interface on the Walled City Livestream, he saw the unlocked instance selections:

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[Underworld Guardian] — 200 points reward
[Rainy Night Terror] — 300 points reward
[Death Code] — 500 points reward + 500 solo instance reward

___________________________________________________________

Since there were no instance details, Lin Kuo had assumed that, like other functions, he could click to view more information.

Unexpectedly, after he clicked on [Death Code], his phone screen went black for two seconds—livestream channel establishing.

“…Mmm.”

Text flashed across the screen:

___________________________________________________________

[Personal livestream channel established successfully.]
[Bullet chat and donation channels have been opened.]
[Instance “Death Code” is loading…]

___________________________________________________________

Just before being dragged into the instance, Lin Kuo overheard Sheng Sheng mention him to his mother.

“Sheng Sheng, your current points are still enough to live in Lower B District. Don’t be in a hurry to participate in an instance. Wait until Mom earns enough points to buy the Talisman item, then you can go.”

Sheng Sheng was also worried about his mother, his small face scrunched up.

“Sheng Sheng, have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I’ll eat with big brother Lin Kuo in a bit.”

“Lin Kuo?”

“Yes, Mom. I’m staying with big brother Lin Kuo. He’s actually really nice. He even waited for me at the city gate.”

Sheng Sheng’s mother was silent for a moment.

“Give the phone to your big brother. Let Mom say a few words to him.”

“Okay.”

Sheng Sheng turned to look at Lin Kuo—only to find that Lin Kuo had become a faint shadow, then vanished from the room.

He was stunned.

“Big brother disappeared…”

“Disappeared?”

Hearing Sheng Sheng’s anxious and confused voice, she comforted him, “Big brother probably went to an instance. Don’t worry, Sheng Sheng.”

Sheng Sheng was filled with admiration.

“Big brother went to an instance again. He’s so hardworking.”

As for Lin Kuo, who had accidentally entered the instance, he now found himself in a closed room with only one locked door, somewhat like the confinement space he’d been dragged into by Room Manager S last time.

Although this second instance came as a surprise, he adopted an attitude of take things as they come.

Following his experience from the first instance, Lin Kuo changed his livestream title:

[A stream that ‘I don’t need you to watch’]

Thinking of those bullet comments full of malice, he hoped that when he needed to check the time on the progress bar, the stream would be clean—preferably without a single comment.

After waiting a little longer, his phone beeped:

___________________________________________________________

[《Death Code》 has finished loading.]
[《Death Code》:
Game Players: Solo Instance
Game Star Rating & Type: Two-Star Puzzle-Solving
Game Rules: Write down and hide your death code. If the evil god finds your death code, you will die according to the method of the death code.
Game Reward: 500 points + 500 solo instance reward]

___________________________________________________________

Lin Kuo quickly read through the game rules.

As he was pondering them, he noticed the suddenly increasing bullet comments—one of which mentioned Sweet as the Wind.

Already feeling awkward from his debt, Lin Kuo pretended to be calm.

“It’s none of your business. Mind your own business.”

Then he put down his phone and missed Sweet as the Wind’s message:

[Sweet as the Wind]: Big brother, mwah.

Now free from those annoying bullet comments, Lin Kuo felt much more at peace.

He began to observe his surroundings.

There was a table in the room, and on it were a piece of paper and a feather-shaped pen.

Just as the rules described—it was time to write his death code.

Lin Kuo picked up the pen.

From the rule “you will die according to the method of the death code,” he guessed that the instance was asking him to design a death method for himself, hide it, and avoid letting the evil god discover it. Otherwise, the game would end.

He examined the paper carefully.

It was an ordinary piece of paper.

He didn’t start writing immediately, but instead mulled over the rules of this instance titled Death Code.

Although the rules were clearly written, something about them didn’t sit right with him.

Yet, when he tried to pinpoint what was off, he couldn’t find anything specific.

Since he couldn’t figure it out, he didn’t dwell on it.

After a moment’s thought, he designed a death method in his mind and calmly began writing it on the paper, stroke by stroke.

By now, the bullet chat had also learned the rules of Death Code.

Tens of thousands of viewers were eagerly watching, wanting to see what Lin Kuo wrote.

Unfortunately, he deliberately blocked the writing with his left hand.

All they could vaguely see was the final character:  Death.

[The dog streamer is really a dog. Damn it!]
[What kind of death did the dog streamer write? I’m so damn curious!]
[Wait a minute—aren’t you all focused on the wrong thing? Shouldn’t we be talking about the words ‘evil god’?]
[Evil god? Damn, how lucky is the dog streamer to get an evil god instance.]
[Lucky? An evil god is scarier than any ghost or monster.]
[Everyone, come look! There’s an honest person in chat!]
[Forcefully spectating the honest person.]

Sheng Wen’s eyelid twitched.

He’d passed many instances and had of course encountered evil gods.

Ghosts in supernatural instances killed indiscriminately.

In many cases, you didn’t even know if you’d become a target.

To survive, participants had to solve the instance as quickly as possible.

Evil gods, however, were different.

Though they also enjoyed killing for sport, they had self-awareness.

An evil god was an intelligent being with supernatural powers.

It would do everything possible to obstruct you: providing false clues, laying traps, even disguising itself as the person most familiar to you.

Sheng Wen was worried.

Lin Kuo’s fatal flaw was his tendency to trust others too easily—exactly the kind of person an evil god would prey on.

With that in mind, he sent Lin Kuo a few messages to warn him.

Lin Kuo’s phone buzzed.

He guessed Sweet as the Wind had seen his stream.

Even if he didn’t know what to say, he felt he should still respond.

The latest message in Walled City Chat read:

[S]: Be careful. Don’t trust anyone.
[S]: Big brother, let me be your room manager.

“…”

Sheng Wen hadn’t noticed that he’d forgotten to switch accounts.

Because he was trying to warn Lin Kuo, his tone had become much more serious.

Lin Kuo didn’t connect “S” with Sweet as the Wind.

He typed coldly:

Lin Kuo: But it’s not needed.

From any perspective, Lin Kuo didn’t really like this “S.”

He returned his phone to his pocket, folded the paper into a small square, and slipped it into his jacket.

Then he opened the door of the confined room.

The moment he saw the scene outside, Lin Kuo’s usually calm eyes turned red.

He rubbed them, then looked again.

“Bro, where have you been these days?”

His biological sister, Lin Zhi, ran up to him the moment she saw him.

“I was so anxious I almost called the police!”

The door behind him led directly to Lin Kuo’s real-world home.

He turned back and reopened it.

Now it no longer showed the confinement room, but instead the familiar hallway outside his apartment.

Garbage bags filled with takeout were still piled up there.

His neighbor always waited until the last minute to throw them out.

Emotionally, it felt like he had returned to reality.

But Lin Kuo was someone who relied more on reason.

He pulled out his phone and unlocked it.

There was no livestream app.

No Walled City Chat.

Only 99+ unread messages on WeChat.

He glanced at them.

Some were from classmates asking why he hadn’t come to class, others were clients urging him for illustrations—and most were from Lin Zhi.

He tried to say he’d been dragged into the Walled City, but the words wouldn’t come.

Some kind of force seemed to restrict them.

This made Lin Kuo even more uncertain.

Had he really returned?

He felt for the note in his pocket—it was still there.

The instance wasn’t over.

Either he’d returned to reality within the instance, or this was a carefully constructed illusion.

“Where the hell did you go?”

Lin Zhi  was both surprised and angry.

“If you don’t give me a clear explanation, I’m not done with you. Do you know how worried I’ve been? You’re the only family I have!”

Lin Kuo’s heart softened.

“I went on a trip.”

“A trip? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Lin Kuo thought for a moment.

“Hainan. For sketching.”

“Bullshit. You hate the heat. Do you know how hot Hainan is right now? Sketching? Do you think I’m three years old? If you don’t want to say, fine. Whatever… I’m just glad you’re back.”

Lin Kuo looked at his sister with a complicated expression.

Her tone, her attitude—everything matched Lin Zhi.

He paused and continued probing, “Did looking for me delay your classes?”

“…”
She averted her eyes.

“…Mmm, I took a week off.”

Her grades weren’t good, and she liked to slack off.

Once, she had a cold and asked Lin Kuo to get her a day off.

But she didn’t go back to school for three days.

“You took a week off?”

“Alright, I didn’t. Hey! Don’t twist this! I didn’t go to school because I was looking for you. And now you’re blaming me for skipping class?”

Lin Kuo walked to the kitchen.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Bro, you’re cooking today? Coke chicken wings!”

“Drink less Coke. Too much will stunt your growth.”

“Then don’t ask me what I want!”

Lin Kuo smiled, “Go wait.”

Lin Zhi happily skipped to the side.

“You sure you don’t need help? Too late if you change your mind—I won’t be washing dishes later.”

“I wasn’t counting on you.”

Lin Kuo opened the fridge, took out vegetables, scallions, ginger, and garlic, and began washing and prepping.

He rolled up the sleeves of his gray denim jacket, but they wouldn’t stay up.

After a few failed attempts, he gave up and took the jacket off, tossing it aside.

Then he picked up the kitchen knife and began slicing ginger.

After just two slices, he heard a rustling sound beside him.

He looked over to see what Lin Zhi was doing.

She was holding his jacket, grinning mischievously.

“Bro, is your death code in this jacket?”