Chapter 1700: Chapter 43: This Is Your First Regret, the Game You Never Played
[Please choose the game you want to participate in among the three screens.]
...
The fruit machine hung with colorful little lights, the screen quickly switched, and finally gradually froze, presenting three images: The first was a woman sitting in a box, reaching out a bright red hand towards the screen; the second was a row of cars with different designs, the road full of speed bumps, bananas, inflatable backpacks, and other strange props; the third was a group of stick figures passing a bright red apple.
The red lever beside it can change the position of the light, and below is a green button labeled "Confirm".
Before each round of games begins, participants can know the three types of games in advance and choose one. All games are constructed according to the participants’ common sense, allowing Su Ming’an to judge that the form of civilization of another group of participants should be similar to Zhai Xing’s.
After thinking for a moment, Su Ming’an chose the third game. The first looked like a box woman’s reasoning game, with a significant luck component. The second was somewhat like QQ Speed, which he had never played, knowing nothing about racing games.
...
[Selection complete, your first round of the game begins.]
...
"Shua!"
Su Ming’an opened his eyes, startled by the scene before him.
In sight was a giant book as tall as a building, heavy and towering, in an open state, emanating an ink scent, with cream-colored pages facing a row of twenty chairs lined up. He was sitting on the rightmost chair, with nineteen other people on the other chairs.
At the spine of the giant book sat a girl in a red and blue long dress, legs crossed over the heavy skirt, revealing a pair of thick-soled platform shoes. Noticing the people had arrived, the girl pouted.
"Let me see... Contestant group number 283192, welcome to level, 037 · Story Relay." The girl smiled, "I am the host of this level, Number Three."
"You say we are contestant group number 283192?" A white-collar woman asked puzzled, "Isn’t this the first round of the game? We should be group number 1."
"It’s your first time here, but it’s not my first time hosting!" The girl forcefully closed the tea lid, snorting lightly, "Alright, stop talking, I’ll start announcing the game rules."
The girl pulled down the lever next to her, and in an instant, fireworks exploded.
...
[Participant (Su Ming’an), your first round of the game is: 037 · Story Relay.]
[Game type: Cooperative game.]
[Number of participants: 20 people]
[Game introduction: Participants need to collaboratively create a logically tight story. Each person’s speaking time is between thirty seconds to sixty seconds, during which they must speak continuously without noticeable pauses or edits at a speed not slower than normal. Each person speaks for a total of three rounds.]
[Game victory rules: At the end of three rounds, if the story structure is complete and logically coherent, everyone passes.]
...
After hearing the rules, people breathed a sigh of relief; it was actually a cooperative game and seemed not too difficult. At least it wasn’t a bloody gun battle or knife fight, nor was it a high-threshold reasoning game. Everyone can tell a story.
"I’ll give you... ten minutes to discuss. After the discussion ends, the game begins immediately. Note, if you’re finally judged to fail, none of you will pass." Number Three said with legs crossed.
"What happens if we don’t pass?" A young boy asked curiously.
The girl showed an evil smile:
"You’ll die!"
Leaving behind a terrifying remark, the girl propped up an umbrella, lay down, and soon fell asleep.
A South Asian boy with dark skin opened his mouth: "It’s a bit difficult for twenty people to compile a complete and logically tight story. Three or four people are easy, but when there’s a larger number of people, it’s harder. People later won’t know the intention of those earlier, and when the rounds increase, it’s easy to forget the earlier story. Once there’s a logical contradiction, it’s hard to fill in."
A man from the Dragon Country, who seemed to be a programmer, suggested: "I have a method, the rules didn’t say we can’t use existing stories! We can use existing stories, each person can continue a line! Like Kua Fu Chasing the Sun, Little Red Riding Hood, the Crow Drink Water... all can work!"
They took a look at Number Three, who lay there like a dead fish, saying nothing.
Seeing people start discussing which story to employ, players from various countries were eager to promote stories from their own cultures, eager to showcase their cultural tales under the world’s scrutiny. Suddenly, Su Ming’an spoke:
"No, it’s a trap."
Everyone stopped discussing immediately and looked at him in unison.
At this moment, they finally noticed what kind of face the person sitting in the corner had.
"——Oh my! It’s him!"
The familiar cries rose one after another, with a few people roaring and screaming, the sound almost exploding the sky. Among them, a man from the Dragon Country with dark circles around his eyes, looking like he’d worked overtime for a long time, wearing a checkered shirt, saw Su Ming’an as if he were seeing a parental figure, bouncing up and down in excitement: "Mom! Dad! Did you see it, I’m on TV! I’m on TV!!!"
Su Ming’an turned a blind eye and continued: "The rules indeed didn’t say that we can’t use existing stories, but the rules have a word — ’create’. Any situation that might be combing over the wording must be avoided."
His words were like pouring cold water on them, making those who thought they found a loophole calm down.
"That’s right, with the Number One Player in this game, we must be cautious, or we’ll become eternal sinners." A European man with a high nose bridge and thin lips said.
"Can’t he just start over on his own? He’s not afraid of failure. Right now, he’s just an ordinary person, no different from us in Strength." A sharp voice sounded, coming from a hunchbacked middle-aged man with a sallow complexion and an expression of barely concealed jealousy. In this world, there are always people who think themselves the Protagonist, but Su Ming’an’s appearance made them feel unparalleled jealousy.
"What nonsense are you talking about! Keep your bitter words to yourself!" A programmer slapped the arm of his chair.
"The Rules don’t say you can’t, so it means you can." The hunchbacked man sneered.
After he spoke, his cheeks immediately flushed with pride, thinking he had successfully refuted Su Ming’an before the whole world.
Su Ming’an, unhurried: "Oh, really?"
His fingers tapped on the table:
"Each person has thirty seconds to speak. At the average normal speaking rate for humans, how many words can you say?"
The people looked at each other, not understanding how Su Ming’an suddenly changed the topic, wondering what storytelling and speaking speed had to do with each other.
"About 68 words." Su Ming’an said, "Allowing some flexibility depending on the individual, that’s 60 to 80 words."
He looked at the nineteen bewildered people, his voice calm: "Calculating with 70 words, for twenty people, one round would be 1,400 words, and three rounds would be 4,200 words. That’s the length of four exam essays. A story stitched together from sixty segments of speech, twenty people each speaking three times. If using a ready-made framework, what situation could arise?"
"What situation?" the man said, "We have ears, we can hear the previous parts of the story and continue..."
Suddenly, he held his mouth, his face turning red, suddenly realizing something.
Some others hadn’t caught on yet, looking bewilderedly at Su Ming’an.
The air became quiet, and Su Ming’an stopped tapping his fingers, clasping his hands and leaning slightly back against the chair.
"[Anything mentioned in the Rules must be considered as certain to happen. Anything not forbidden in the Rules must be considered as possible to happen.]" Su Ming’an said, "There is not a single word in the Rules that mentioned: [The next person can clearly hear all the previous story’s content]."
The people reacted, turning pale.
They had made the mistake of habitual thinking, automatically setting preconditions, taking it for granted that a storytelling relay would involve everyone gathered together, with the first person telling the story, then the second, and so on. During this time, everyone could hear each other’s speech.
However, the Rules did not say they would all sit together!
A dark-skinned South Asian boy quickly reacted, his face changing: "What if each person only knows their small part, like the first person says ’Once upon a time there was a mountain,’ the twentieth person might not even know the whole story, and when he speaks, he might not be able to connect it with the complex narrative spread by the eighteen people in the middle! Especially when the story isn’t linear, with clues and twists..."
Exactly.
The plot of "Hamlet" is seamless, but if each person is only responsible for three lines, spaced far apart, can they ensure that what they say fits with the revenge progress, character mindset, and plot details built by the previous ten or so people? Just one obvious logical break or contradiction would break the requirement for ’logical coherence,’ causing everyone to fail based on this single point.
The scene fell silent, a chill running up everyone’s spine. The trap had indeed been set insidiously—first using ’collaboration’ to lower vigilance, then using habitual thinking to lower people’s guard. It seemed easy to pass, but was actually filled with hidden dangers.
Some couldn’t help but look at Su Ming’an with reverence. Before, separated by a screen, they hadn’t felt it, but now with direct interaction, they realized the Number One Player truly lived up to his reputation. Had Su Ming’an not pointed this out, they would truly have been annihilated.
In reality, Su Ming’an had been tricked too many times himself, learning from experience—not a single word in the system Rules could be ignored. Who would have thought that a missing ’identical’ phrase in the World of Old Days could lead to ’ten thousand world lines, each with only one true player’—a miraculous concept. Who would have thought that a vague term like ’Ruined World,’ without any clear civilization name, actually hinted at the term ’Zhai Xing.’
"So... what should we do?" The European man looked at Su Ming’an, his tone unwittingly tinged with inquiry, "Coming up with a story on the spot that allows twenty people to participate without mistakes is too difficult. Time is limited; we can’t even discuss it."
"We need a simple, highly expandable setting." Su Ming’an said.
"Like what?" A blonde, blue-eyed woman asked anxiously, her brow beaded with sweat.
What kind of story background would allow everyone, even without hearing the others’ story, to ensure logical rigor? What kind of story would permit independent storytelling, ultimately weaving into a complete narrative?
The people looked at Su Ming’an in confusion.
Su Ming’an clasped his hands and provided the answer:
"—Infinite Levels."
People’s eyes widened.
"That’s right! That’s it!" The programmer understood, slapped his thigh, and applauded repeatedly.
If it’s a story of infinite levels, the first few only need to establish the background, and the subsequent individuals can independently narrate the plot of a level succinctly! Finally, the last individual can conclude the story! The fifty-something retellings in the middle could be seen as fifty-plus levels, entirely achievable independently!
Even if someone among these twenty has a low cultural level and cannot tell a logically coherent story, it doesn’t matter because each segment is independent. Even if some segments are chaotic, subsequent segments won’t be affected. Even just narrating a common level like ’The Protagonist defeats the Evil Dragon to become the Hero’ won’t go wrong!
As long as the beginning and ending are well-executed, this could be a Complete story.
Su Ming’an explained: "Traditional level stories must consider the Protagonist’s Growth. We can make some adjustments. For example, we could construct a ’Golden Forest’ setting. The golden forest contains the pages from all the World’s books, where our Protagonist is a book Manager. He enters this forest carrying a lantern and ventures along countless bifurcating paths, collecting pages from each path to compile them into a Complete storybook at the end."
"The tone is set as ’The Protagonist seeks the sole truth among countless branches.’ The first three individuals just need to explain this setting. Starting with the fourth person, every subsequent individual doesn’t need to follow the previous person’s narrative. Instead, they should narrate the Protagonist’s encounter in any scene of any parallel World, varied and logically coherent, without conflict."
Their eyes lit up when they heard this plan cleverly circumvented the weaknesses of linear narrative, significantly lowering the difficulty.
They looked at Su Ming’an with complex emotions, admiration, and relief. If he hadn’t exposed the trap, they might have merrily jumped into it.
A little girl couldn’t help but think, "No wonder mom said that following Su Ming’an makes everything effortless..."
"Ring-ring-ring—"
The bell rang, and the host yawned, signaling the start of the first round of speeches.
Su Ming’an had already set the tone: This is a story about a lantern carrier searching for a path in a golden forest with countless forked paths.
Because it’s a garden of forked paths, different possibilities coexist. Each journey brings a return to the beginning, and every path the lantern carrier walks is real, so even if each player’s logic conflicts, it is reasonable. Because what each of them narrates is merely each of the lantern carrier’s experiences.
The first participant was a programmer man, who took a deep breath and began his thirty seconds: "In a certain space domain, there lies a golden forest with forked paths. I am a librarian, and today I walk into the forest with a lantern; this is a story about choices and pursuit..."
As expected, when he spoke, apart from the second person, the other eighteen couldn’t hear what he was saying at all. Su Ming’an’s guess was correct; it was a trap. Fortunately, they avoided it.
The second participant was a serious middle-aged woman, intellectual and mature, her narration swift and smooth: "I walked into the forest, where billions of paths branched out like blood vessels. I could only choose one path at a time, and when I reached the end or got lost, I would carry the memories of that journey back to the initial fork to start the next reincarnation..."
The third was a blonde, blue-eyed white woman, her expression somewhat blank, speaking hesitantly, but fortunately, she only needed to repeat Su Ming’an’s established setting: "Every journey I take is real, I—I am searching for a path that can lead me out of reincarnation, integrating all the experiences... the only ’golden path’..."
It was the fourth person’s turn, a little girl. The most difficult part of setting the tone was over, she just needed to imagine endlessly: "I followed a random path. I saw a roaring bear; it was fierce, and I defeated it with a wooden stick. Many small animals thanked me. Together, we found a sheltering cave, and then we lived together."
Starting from her, all the narrators had to remember one thing only: No matter how outrageous their content, they must provide a complete ending. Only then could the lantern carrier restart from the beginning in the next person’s story and choose a new path in the forest.
The fifth person was a dark-skinned South Asian boy, who said boldly: "I chose a bumpy path, where a fierce tiger crouched claiming to be a guardian. I put down my lantern and fiercely battled it, finally winning and completing the path."
The sixth person was a weathered-looking middle-aged man: "I chose a warm path and walked into a sea of flowers, with sunlit warmth and sweet breezes. I saw them—all the faces I had lost. My parents picnicking, my friends frolicking, no disasters, no sadness, everyone smiling warmly at me. But I understood, I had to say goodbye. I bid farewell and continued on."
People took turns telling their imaginations, and the lantern carrier in their words walked different paths, facing varied futures.
"I chose a path overgrown with weeds and entered a castle where the people were like exquisite dolls. I accepted a crown and became a dragon lurking in the castle. I could perceive everyone’s thoughts, altering their memories and emotions at will. Eventually, my crown shattered, and I died."
"I chose a broad road and met a silver giant tree that could grant my wishes. I said, ’I wish for all the creatures in this forest to be free from being devoured, controlled, or killed.’ In the end, I became the tree."
"I chose a narrow path and reached a village shrouded in black mist. The villagers said I was the first to come from outside since ancient times. I used the light to dispel the mist, protecting them, and they revered me as a deity."
"I chose a windy path and encountered a formidable enemy. I fought with all my might, and, in the end, we both burned out. People praised my name, shedding tears for me, and my footsteps would be reborn in the golden forest."
People turned to storytelling, extending the lantern carrier’s life stories. He walked, fought, died. Each step in his journey was filled with brilliance.
The lantern carrier lived happily until the end, perished alongside an enemy, became a lonely exile, plunged the world into a dream, turned into an evil dragon devouring everyone, was betrayed and killed by companions, became a deity manipulating all, became part of the evil dragon...
Raspy, childish, aged, youthful... narrated by old people, middle-aged, young, and children, telling the protagonist’s legend. Players from different countries, genders, ages each imagining his journey, his story, his future, his long and wandering journey.
Until three rounds passed, Su Ming’an was the last.
He stood silently for a moment, seemingly hearing the echo of countless reincarnations of the lantern carrier—burning himself decisively, sailing alone, turning into a solitary ruler, bravely piercing illusions, peacefully returning home...
It felt like he heard the scratch of a pen falling onto paper.
As the final summarizer, he had three minutes to speak, needing to connect all the logic and wrap it up decisively.
At this moment, all no longer need to continue, and they regained their hearing, looking at Su Ming’an. Their gazes carried trust, admiration, fervor, awe... they believed he could provide a beautiful conclusion to the lantern carrier’s tumultuous road.
Su Ming’an ceased pondering and spoke softly.
His voice was clear and gentle, akin to the lantern carrier himself coming to life, narrating towards everyone:
"The lantern carrier stands before the starting point of all paths, with all the pages swirling around, merging into a complete book. All the forests, flowers, reincarnations, pages, even the lantern carrier merges into the book..."
"At this moment, the lantern carrier finally understood that the golden road was never a path waiting to be discovered."
As if, at this moment, he became the "lantern carrier" from the story.
Raising the lantern toward his feet.
Light flowed from underfoot—from the resonance of all reincarnations of the "lantern carrier," like molten gold, spreading to all directions... adorning all existing paths with a warm golden edge.
"Every path, regardless of leading to happiness, destruction, loneliness, dreams, domination, sacrifice, betrayal, void, becoming a god or death—they were all part of the golden road, they were all real."
"It turns out, he wasn’t meant to choose the one correct path, but to let all those previous paths walked..."
"—to become ’real.’
As his words fell, sixty pages flew from the bodies of the twenty participants toward the giant blank book in front of them like swallows returning home.
With the merging of the pages, an enormous book began to show ink characters, born from their story; the relay writing from the first segment onwards, ink characters continuously appeared fast, filling the book with their orally narrated experiences of the "lantern carrier." Dense, neat handwriting.
When all ink was finished, with a "boom," the giant book slowly closed, revealing a blank cover.
On the tome’s cover, light gathered into characters, golden light converged into the book title:
...
——"The Travel of the Lantern Bearer"
...
The book is complete.
The title is set.
The forest has not disappeared, and the path still forks.
The figure of the lantern bearer gradually fades, merging into the light and shadow of the book’s title page.
...
[Detected: The structure of "The Travel of the Lantern Bearer" is complete, logically coherent, and the beginning and end are connected.]
[Congratulations! Twenty participants, successfully cooperated to complete it!]
[The first round of the game is over.]
[You will be initiated for return transmission in two minutes.]
...
Seeing the word "completed," everyone sighed in relief, and many had beads of sweat on their foreheads. They all looked at Su Ming’an, as if seeing a giant panda:
"Incredible!"
"Thanks to the Number One Player!"
"So amazing, we’re through just like that."
"I never thought the World Game could be this easy... Is this what it feels like to be carried by a great god? Do nothing, just follow orders and win effortlessly!"
A round of applause erupted, with a little girl leading, and the others, stunned for a moment, immediately joined in the clapping.
"Clap clap clap clap——" The applause was like thunder, like falling rain, as people looked at him warmly and gratefully.
The story relay that originally required every effort for each step, under the arrangement of Su Ming’an, became incredibly easy for everyone except Su Ming’an, who was responsible for the final end. Even babbling nonsense didn’t matter because the story’s framework was so stable that even jokingly saying "the protagonist wasted away doing nothing" was reasonable.
A dozen people clapped around Su Ming’an, and even he found it a bit overwhelming. He looked up and glanced at the twin-tailed girl.
"Number Three." Su Ming’an said.
The girl lazily lowered her gaze.
Number Three swayed her platform shoes as her legs hung down: "My boss is waiting for you at the final ’Demon King Castle’——Keep winning, Number One Player."
"Your boss is the ’Lord of Games’." Su Ming’an caught Number Three’s emphasis and responded in kind.
Number One Player versus the Lord of Games. It seems the former’s concept belongs to the latter, since "players" are determined by "games." However, when the former is strong enough, delves deep enough, even to the point of confronting the latter...a "player" can dominate the "game."
"It’s so hard to meet your boss." Su Ming’an said.
"You’re choosing the hardest path, you don’t have to face the Radiant Mother God head-on." Number Three said, "Join us Awakeners, we guarantee you’ll become the first heir. Lü God and Pudding are far inferior to you, and you’ll become my boss’s most favored person."
"...Then forget it, I don’t like this wording." Su Ming’an immediately waved his hand.
The fact that he hasn’t become an Awakener so far indicates that in all these reincarnations, he has never once become an Awakener. This is a domain he absolutely cannot join.
Seeing Su Ming’an and Number Three "immortally conversing" here, the other participants were puzzled, feeling as if they had stumbled into the scene of harsh words before a hero showdown. After all, superheros in movies always exchange tough talk before a fight.
This so-called Lord of Games sounds quite formidable. Is this the enemy Su Ming’an has to face?
"Oh my God...I feel like I’m witnessing history!" A white man said, his emotions surging.
"My friend, you witness history every single second!" A programmer man laughed.
"That’s right! Su Ming’an himself is a walking history!"
"Swish!"
The next moment, as time ran out, everyone was transported back.
Before the fruit machine, the second round of the game began to roll.
Su Ming’an stared at the flashing lights.
"White Wolf, Sique...Luowasha is like a sandbox, now looking back from an overlooking perspective, I realize many colors aren’t quite real, like a brightly colored oil painting. The Lord of Dreams chose Luowasha as the final battlefield, could it be because it’s the most familiar..." Su Ming’an pondered.
"Ring ring ring~" The lights of the fruit machine gradually froze.
