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墨書 Inktalez
When Gu Ze was thrown into the water, he thought it was a perfect opportunity to find the source of the tentacles and eliminate it, preventing any future problems.
With this thought in mind, Gu Ze felt much calmer. As he fell into the water, he quickly held his breath, hoping to resolve the issue within the few minutes he could manage without air.
The idea was good, but reality was not so pleasant.
Once submerged, Gu Ze noticed that the lake water was a deep, transparent blue. It was nighttime, and visibility was severely limited; everything around him was shrouded in mist, making it impossible to discern direction. The tentacles that had pulled him into the lake had vanished, leaving no trace of any creatures.
Every second underwater was precious, and the oxygen in his lungs was invaluable.
Gu Ze felt a growing sense of frustration. No matter which direction he swam in, he found nothing. The oxygen in his lungs was dwindling rapidly. He decided to swim towards the surface to catch a breath before diving back down to search.
Just as he began to swim upward, he saw many faces surrounding him—some weeping, some smiling grotesquely—faces of all kinds with green eyes that fixed their gaze on him.
Gu Ze realized that all these faces had long black hair that twisted into strands and attacked him. His movements were severely restricted underwater; as he struggled to swim just a few meters away, those hair-like tendrils ensnared him more tightly than ropes ever could.
The oxygen in his lungs was diminishing rapidly, and no matter how hard Gu Ze tried, he couldn't break free from the binding strands. At that moment, there was no one around to help him. He couldn't reach for a weapon; panic began to set in as his vision blurred and pain in his limbs turned numb.
In his haze, Gu Ze noticed a group of green creatures approaching him. They were either helpers or attackers. The situation had become dire; despite his desperate struggles, he could only watch helplessly as the green beings drew closer. When they finally reached him, Gu Ze realized they resembled grotesque demons from ancient paintings—ugly creatures with horns and sharp teeth, their eyes filled with greed.
Before Gu Ze could react, the demons lunged at him, tearing at his flesh and drinking his blood.
He felt his body temperature plummeting.
At that moment, he heard a soft voice whispering to him.
"Don't look back."
Gu Ze was confused when he suddenly heard a sinister voice repeating the same phrase.
"Don't look back."
What did these four words mean?
As Gu Ze felt lost, he began to hear many different voices and tones echoing those words, and the excessive blood loss made him feel even more dizzy.
Was he really going to die here?
He felt a sense of unwillingness.
Regardless of how the Designers had created such realistic things, or how the technical team led by his Uncle had brought them to life, he felt a deep frustration.
That irresponsible father had thrown him into this situation, and now he was going to die without achieving anything. How disappointed would that father be? How heartbroken would his mother feel?
And what about Nuan? He hadn’t even had a proper grand confession before facing death?
He was unwilling; he hadn’t even had the chance to beat that bastard Qin Yaojie up properly. He hadn’t been able to make Nuan give up on him or admit him. Dying here would only benefit that jerk. What if that bastard bullied Nuan again?
And then there was Hang. He had promised to help him reconcile with his girlfriend; he wasn’t someone who broke his word.
And what about his Buddy? He hadn’t even attended the grand wedding of Buddy and his boyfriend. After all, he was supposed to be a witness to their love. Not being there for that wedding would hurt him deeply.
So, he didn’t want to die, and he wouldn’t die.
Gu Ze began to struggle, not knowing where the strength came from. He forcefully tore off the hair that was entangled around his left hand. A sharp, mournful scream echoed as Gu Ze flipped over and pulled at the hair around his right wrist. Throughout this ordeal, those spirits continued to drink his blood and feast on his flesh.
In reality, these creatures could not possibly exist. Gu Ze couldn't help but doubt whether all of this was just a figment of his imagination. He had reached his limit underwater; if he didn't surface for air soon, he would either die from excessive blood loss or suffocate from lack of oxygen.
As he struggled desperately, he heard a familiar voice.
"Gu Ze!"
The calmness in the voice was tinged with urgency and concern, like the sound of clear spring water trickling.
It was Nuan!
Gu Ze wanted to respond, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a large gulp of water rushed in.
Then he heard another voice.
"Gu Ze."
The muffled voice belonged to none other than his reserved friend Xu Hang. Though he appeared serious and unyielding, he was actually quite shy and a bit proud, never expressing concern verbally but always showing it through actions.
This was bad! As Gu Ze fought to swim upward, he realized he was running out of strength. He felt weak, and his consciousness began to fade away until it vanished completely.
Darkness enveloped him.
When Gu Ze's brain started to regain function, he thought he had entered hell. Before him lay a pitch-black void, filled with the heavy stench of decay—the smell of rotting corpses mixed with the metallic tang of blood.
His body was immobile; he couldn't speak or see the surroundings. Gu Ze felt puzzled. If there truly was a hell, then he wanted to see what kind of place it was. If there really existed the soup of Meng Po, he would never drink it. Forgetting one's past life was a sorrowful thing; casually casting aside so many regrets to drink something that made one forget the mundane world was the real tragedy.
As he continued to curse the setup of hell in his mind, a familiar voice suddenly reached his ears.
"He has been unconscious for most of the night; this isn't looking good."
It was Nuan's voice.
"We've given him all the medicine we can, but he still won't wake up. I suspect there might be something else in the lake water."
That was Xu Hang's voice.
"Is it poisoning? Should we inject him with a few more vials of Antidote?"
Such a sharp and obvious tone.
"Too much of a good thing can be harmful. We've already injected him with too many medications."
And then there was that polite fellow.
He wanted to open his eyes and see these people—those he cared for, his loyal Buddy, and comrades who had faced life and death together. No matter what, before he died, he wanted to see them just once.
His eyelids felt too heavy to lift, as if they were glued shut with a powerful adhesive. He couldn't even move his lips, and his fingers were paralyzed; it felt like every organ in his body was on strike.
The voices of his companions continued to reach his ears.
He found it hard to distinguish whether he was experiencing pre-death hallucinations, if he had been rescued while unconscious, or if it was some other chaotic reason. Memories began to surface; he recalled several instances where Xu Nuan had faced life and death right before him, coming close to the Grim Reaper.
Once in the desert, she had been choked by Guo Dafu. At that time, he was still caught up in complex emotions from their past encounters. Even though he noticed something off about Guo Dafu, his indifferent attitude nearly cost Xu Nuan her life. Then there was the incident in the swamp, where that same Guo Dafu had pushed an unsuspecting Xu Nuan into the mire. Afterward, he witnessed her endure great danger, her injuries increasing. In this place without hospitals, no one knew how much their self-treatment would leave behind in terms of aftereffects.
This was only what he had seen firsthand. Before he entered the game, when they had parted ways, had Xu Nuan also faced even greater dangers?
The answer was affirmative, yet he still felt powerless.
Suddenly, he recalled his father's words after he graduated from college.
"You, although you have a great mind and learn quickly, are basically a well-rounded talent. But do you know what your shortcomings are?"
Oh, Dad, some things are unclear; how could your foolish son possibly know?
However, he began to understand why his father had thrown him into the game.
Fighting Spirit.
What he lacked was Fighting Spirit.
Winning competitions and signing big contracts made him an excellent programmer with some business acumen, allowing him to smoothly inherit the family business without any obstacles. What he received was taken for granted. He lived with this mindset. Of course, there was nothing wrong with such a life; he was an outstanding person who could be quite arrogant at times. He was a Gentleman and also a fighter in the business world.
But so what? He always remembered his father's words.
"If you continue like this, what you gain will be everything given to you by others; you will never surpass me!"
It was natural for a son to inherit his father's wealth, but there was that slight discomfort—like being handed down the family business as if it were charity, leaving him feeling utterly unsatisfied.
What he wanted was his own company, his own employees. He envisioned having a few Buddies to drink with after work and friends to occasionally explore the world with. He imagined having a wife at home waiting for him, one who resonated with him on a spiritual level, someone he liked and wanted to be close to.
For a man, this is the vision he pursues throughout his life.
To realize his vision, he needed Fighting Spirit.
He seemed to understand his father's words. With his own resources and abilities, he was just wasting time. He had friends, a buddy, yet he was not striving for more. He had a woman he liked, but he could only watch as she sought comfort in someone else's arms.
If things continued like this, he would solidify his reputation as a useless man.
If he wanted the woman, he should find a way to pursue her; bullying her wouldn’t help. If he wanted friends, he should cherish them and not let them go. If he wanted a career, he needed to focus on overcoming the challenges ahead.
He shouldn’t drift through life only to realize in the end that he hadn’t accomplished anything.
Could he really allow himself to fade away like this? With so much knowledge stored in his mind going to waste, dying now would be such a loss.
What if he truly died and that woman cried for him?
What would happen if he could no longer see her?
As his mind was tangled with confusion, Gu Ze discovered that his fingers could move. His eyelids didn’t feel as heavy anymore. When he struggled to open them, he was met with blinding sunlight.
Wasn’t the person standing against that dazzling light the one he had been longing for?
Living was still better.
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