8. Emotions

Li Nuo rubbed the bridge of his nose, uneasy. The announcement over the loudspeaker had conveyed a deeply unsettling message. This place, this train, the things that awaited in the future… they all seemed somewhat off-kilter. The dangers of a comedic manga world knew no bounds.

“But… judging from what I heard just now, am I a character in a game?” he wondered aloud. “Is it that ‘Kairo Game World’? What kind of game is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

In his reality, there was a global conglomerate called Kairo Corporation. He filed this information away in his mind, planning to revisit it at the right moment.

Thanks to special training, Li Nuo had learned to organize his memories meticulously. He had constructed several mental shelves, each labeled: “1T,” “Knowledge needed soon,” “Knowledge usable later,” “Useless knowledge,” and “Dangerous.” Each label had its own subdivisions, allowing him to retrieve whatever knowledge he required at any time.

For example, he learned how to make a Molotov cocktail when he was thirteen. Although he had only made one and it had been seven years ago, he could instantly recall the method thanks to this systematized memory.

At first, this method was born out of necessity—his father had fled with his true love, his mother’s memory was failing, and fearing she might take the wrong medicine and prematurely depart for the afterlife, he had no choice but to sharpen his own memory.

Over time, the shelf that began as a place for medicine knowledge had filled with various information he could summon at will.

The train entered a tunnel, darkness enveloping everything around.

[20 seconds until you reach your home.]

As the voice ceased, the train gradually came to a stop. Light spilled in through the window, revealing a small warehouse-like building outside.

The doors opened.

[Player, please disembark.]

Without hesitation, Li Nuo stepped off the train. A gust of wind swept past him, and within two seconds, the train had left the warehouse. When he looked back, the tracks had transformed into a solid wall.

The small room was empty save for a kerosene lamp resting atop an empty crate, its glow illuminating a ladder leading away.

“Basement?” Li Nuo mused, picking up the lamp. Fascinated that it had no control panel, he fixed it onto a wooden stick, held it in his mouth, and carefully climbed the ladder. He pushed open a narrow wooden door just wide enough for one person.

A chill wind blew through.

He froze at the sight before him.

He stood at the end of a stone path flanked by stacked stone platforms, each brimming with white flowers meant for funerary rites.

Not far ahead, a dilapidated pointed-roof house loomed. Several withered trees rooted around it, their tangled, thick branches resembling the grasping hands of dried corpses shielding the building.

Under a gray, misty sky, the scene was serene, eerie, and unsettling.

Five gravestones stood before the building.

An iron fence in European style enclosed the entire area, beyond which endless mist stretched, punctuated by countless towering stone pillars rising into the clouds.

After a brief hesitation, Li Nuo stepped onto the stone path leading to the house. At that moment, a system voice rang out…

[Greetings, and congratulations on completing the newcomer screening.]

[This is your login space, also your home. Here, instructions on how to use your home will be provided.]

[The initial appearance of your home corresponds to your inner thoughts and personality.]

“So this is how gloomy I really am…” Li Nuo muttered, moving forward.

[The five gravestones, from left to right as you enter, represent: task collection, marketplace trading, building functions adjustment, train summoning, and the last one, bearing your name, which you can access through a mental connection to check your mailbox and communication records.]

[Inside the building is an old rocker chair for resting and healing.]

[There is a forging table for modifying equipment.]

[A bookshelf stores your personal “memory fragments.”]

[For task-related information, please consult the “task gravestone.”]

[The main space (this place) shares the same flow of time as the real world, but time in the real world does not pass while inside the game world.]

[The maximum daily stay in the main space is four hours.]

[Upon death in the mission scenario, you will be teleported back to the main space, and all injuries will heal. However, irreversible injuries such as limb loss cannot be restored, and if you return to the real world with such injuries, they will persist.]

[To return to the real world, confirm departure via mental connection. To return to the main space, silently recite “Endless Corridor, Player Name and ID.”]

Li Nuo waited a few seconds to ensure the system voice had ceased, then glanced around.

“Leave.”

[Are you sure you want to leave the Endless Corridor?]

“Yes.”

Beyond exploration, a far more pressing matter awaited Li Nuo’s attention.

He slowly opened his eyes, lying on the ground, his head dizzy. Supporting himself on his hands, he sat up. Though the dizziness lingered faintly, it had lessened. He twisted his neck, surveyed his surroundings carefully, then lowered his head, pressing a hand to his forehead.

“Back…” Li Nuo pondered silently.

After a moment, he reached back to feel the back of his head. He recalled having slipped and struck the back of his head on the corner of a table. He searched carefully but found no wound.

“…”

He steadied himself on the table and stood up, moving his body. He realized his condition was very abnormal— the weakness caused by illness had vanished, replaced by an inexplicable comfort.

“Really healed?”

Li Nuo closed his eyes and silently recited:

“Endless Corridor, Player Li Nuo, 5900.”

[Return to game?]

His eyes snapped open, his expression shifting, an unidentifiable emotion flickering within them.

He moved his body, feeling the absence of any pain.

He took a thermometer, placed it under his arm, and sat silently like a wooden figure.

After fifteen minutes, he retrieved the thermometer. The reading was 36.7°C. Li Nuo stood and headed to the bathroom, removing his shirt and tossing it on the floor.

Facing the mirror, he observed himself. Years of various treatments had left many bruises on his body.

No more subcutaneous hemorrhages.

No more rashes.

No more scars.

No more swelling.

He turned on the faucet, filling the sink with water, then added ice cubes taken from the fridge to reduce joint swelling.

He submerged his head in the cold water, holding his breath for over ten seconds before slowly lifting his head. Repeating this a few times, he used this harsh method to calm his mind.

Finally, he returned to the living room.

Water dripped from his wet hair, the drops pattering on the wooden floor like his chaotic thoughts.

He was at a loss for how to express his emotions.

He had thought many times about what death might be like, yet never once had he imagined he could be freed from this body’s affliction.

Not even once.

Sudden joy and astonishment usually burst forth after a brief silence.

But Li Nuo, perhaps accustomed to the surprises illness brought, showed no emotional ripple at all.

His eyes casually glanced at the books on the table.

“108 Ways to Kill Your Ex-Boyfriend,” “Suicide Methods That Can Scare People to Death,” “How to Construct a Lie So Everyone Believes You’re Dead When You Actually Are,” “20 Common Ways to Become a Vengeful Spirit After Death,” “How to Commit Suicide Without Pain.”

“Suicide is probably off the table now. I spent a lot on these books—I wonder if I can get a refund…”

Li Nuo’s gaze shifted to the portrait of his mother hanging on the wall.

“Mom, it looks like it’ll be a few more years before I can come see you.”