Capital Special Service Bureau Interrogation Room.
The cold metal table reflected the lifeless light from the ceiling, also mirroring Zhang Fan's overly calm face.
Zhang Fan sat upright in the interrogation chair, his hands naturally resting on his knees, trying to appear as relaxed as possible.
"Name."
"Zhang Fan."
"Age."
"I don't know, I just know I'm born in the Year of the Monkey."
"Be honest, what's your relationship with the deceased Wang Yun?"
The interrogating special agent, face obscured in shadow, spoke without any emotion.
"Colleague. We worked at Mars Era Education Institution. He was a game art instructor, I was a special effects instructor. But we weren't close, just nodding acquaintances," Zhang Fan answered truthfully, his tone flat.
"Describe his behavior over the past two weeks."
"His behavior was very abnormal."
Zhang Fan paused, recalling.
"He spent money like water. He used to wear a T-shirt for three years, but suddenly, in those two weeks, he was covered in designer brands.
His personality changed too, from introverted and withdrawn to flamboyant and domineering, indulging in night after night of revelry, and getting entangled with several female students."
He described all this, yet skillfully omitted the most crucial and scientifically inexplicable part.
The special agent opposite seemed uninterested in this gossip, merely jotting down a few notes in a notebook.
"You witnessed the entire incident. Do you have anything to add?"
Zhang Fan was silent for a moment, then shook his head: "No, the official announcement covered it clearly."
"Alright." The special agent closed the notebook and stood up.
"You can leave. Our conclusion is that Wang Yun's long-term repression led to a hysterical outbreak, resulting in extreme behavior.
You must keep this incident confidential, don't speak recklessly, and we hope it won't leave a significant psychological shadow on you."
Zhang Fan tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing a faint, ambiguous smile: "Thanks for your concern, my mental resilience has always been strong."
In his heart, he thought: You might not believe it if I told you, but I even wanted to give him a thumbs up at the time. That scene was more thrilling than all the horror movies I've ever watched combined.
......
Walking out of the Special Service Bureau's doors, the cold night wind cut across his face like a knife, making Zhang Fan shiver and instantly more awake.
In his mind, the horrifying scene that overturned his decades-long worldview began replaying uncontrollably.
Just a few hours ago, during the art class at Mars Era, Wang Yun, looking deranged, burst in and did something insane in front of dozens of teachers and students.
At that time, Wang Yun's arm twisted in a way that defied human anatomy, yet it exploded with inhuman strength, grabbing the prettiest female student in the front row.
Amidst the girl's terrified screams, he directly humiliated her. Many people shouted, trying to intervene, but were kicked away by Wang Yun, never to stand again.
"You think you're noble? You think you're something special? Haha!!" Wang Yun looked at the crying students, his expression twisted.
Afterward, Wang Yun, as if unscrewing a bottle cap, twisted the female student's neck.
"Crack."
The crisp sound of bones breaking became an eternal nightmare for everyone.
Immediately, amidst hysterical laughter and curses, a thin line of blood appeared out of nowhere on Wang Yun's neck, as if slashed by an invisible blade.
Blood spurted like a fountain, yet he kept laughing until life drained away, collapsing with a thud.
The classroom instantly turned into a hell on earth.
Zhang Fan clearly remembered his final curse, that hoarse voice filled with malice and delight, which didn't sound like the ravings of a madman.
It echoed repeatedly in his mind.
"Twenty thousand... twenty thousand really makes you live happily!
Use it to buy the most beautiful female student, drive her insane, haha!
Just wait, the game will descend into reality, and you'll all die! You'll all die!!"
He didn't understand what it meant, couldn't figure it out, and didn't want to.
Zhang Fan instinctively touched his pants pocket.
Inside lay a cold, hard metal USB drive. The special agents hadn't asked about it, so he naturally didn't mention a word.
This was something Wang Yun had slipped into his hand three days before completely losing control, saying it was compensation for tutoring.
Returning to his empty apartment, Zhang Fan locked the door behind him and wearily threw himself onto the sofa.
He turned on his phone, and reports about the "Mars Era Tragedy" were everywhere.
The official announcement casually defined it as "a crime of passion caused by a mental breakdown."
"What the hell, this explanation is even more perfunctory than the reasons I make up."
Zhang Fan muttered to himself.
What he witnessed with his own eyes was absolutely beyond human capability, and certainly not a mental issue.
Wang Yun's drastic changes over those two weeks, the extravagant revelry, and his final words—all the clues pointed to a single source.
He took out the USB drive from his pocket.
The USB drive had a peculiar design, with intricate and ancient patterns carved into its metal casing, resembling a totem from a lost civilization, exuding a mysterious beauty.
"If I took this to Panjiayuan, I could probably fool quite a few people."
Zhang Fan joked to himself, then got up to turn on his computer and inserted the drive.
With a "ding," the computer recognized the device.
Inside the USB drive were only two files.
One was a text document titled "My Notes."
The other was an application named [Death Jianghu].
Zhang Fan's heart skipped a beat as he opened the text document.
On the screen, lines of frenzied text appeared:
But most of it was gibberish.
AB@AB@CAW
"It's not a game! It's not a game!! It's a fucking real world!!"
%^&^%&*
"Wealth, power, longevity... everything you dream of in reality can be obtained in there!
I once exchanged for transcendent power in there, lived like a god, and also provoked beings I shouldn't have..."
&*(&)*(&)*(*
"I'm dying, I'm too tired, I can feel I can't hold on, and that terrifying being is about to descend.
But I don't regret it! That feeling of controlling everything is too wonderful!"
.........
At the end of the notes, there was a line marked in blood-red font, stabbing Zhang Fan's eyes painfully:
"This serial number is my last legacy, my only one. Zhang Fan, I know you're like me, both madmen unwilling to be ordinary.
Don't die like a dog like I did... survive, or go see what the real 'Jianghu' is like."
"Of course, if you get the chance, kill [Wanderer] for me!!!
Avenge me!
He betrayed me!"
A quick look at will leave you more fulfilled.
.........
Below was a long string of numbers and symbols forming a serial number.
"This is incredible!"
Fear and curiosity, like two venomous snakes, waged a frenzied battle in his heart.
Wang Yun's tragic death, his curse of "the game descending into reality," and the unbelievable information revealed in these notes...
All of it felt like an invisible hand.
Making Zhang Fan's restless heart yearn even more.
"Damn it, fortune favors the bold..." Zhang Fan muttered to himself.
He wanted to know the truth.
Wanted to know what kind of world Wang Yun spoke of, where twenty thousand could buy transcendent power.
He took a deep breath and installed the application named [Death Jianghu] directly onto his phone.
The installation process was astonishingly fast, almost instantaneous.
A new icon appeared on the phone's desktop, a stark black background with the word "Death" written in dripping ink strokes, strikingly eye-catching.
Zhang Fan stared at the word "Death" for a full minute, then copied the serial number from the notes.
He opened the app.
There was no user agreement, no login interface, just a solitary "Register" button.
He pasted the serial number and pressed "Register."
The next second, the phone screen was instantly swallowed by endless darkness, as if it had become a small black hole, sucking his soul along with it.