9. The Probability System

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To confirm whether he had truly recovered, Li Nuo decided to visit the hospital. Upon leaving his home and descending the stairs, he realized he had instinctively taken out his cane.

“... Occupational habit,” he muttered to himself.

This felt like the first time he was basking in the sunlight with a healthy body. The sensation didn’t bring much surprise; it was simply... as expected. He gave a self-deprecating laugh and headed toward the community gate, pretending to be the limping patient, trying not to attract too much attention along the way.

The “Endless Corridor” was undoubtedly filled with numerous players, and the competition among them was fierce. Just like the newcomer selection quests, the easiest and most efficient way to pass was to cripple a fellow player first, seize the password, then use the crippled player as bait to distract the monsters while making a run for the exit.

Killing and deception were the essence of the game.

Even though the “recording” stated players couldn’t harm each other in real life, it was better to be cautious—after all, he was too conspicuous. So Li Nuo chose not to go to the familiar Cairo Hospital but instead took the subway to a private hospital in the suburbs.

Thanks to his cane, he quickly found a seat after just one stop. The subway jolted as it moved. Li Nuo sat upright, holding his phone, pondering: if he was truly cured, then finding a proper job had to be part of his short-term plan.

He opened several job search websites and typed in “host,” “escort,” and “young master” one after another.

Minutes later, he fought the urge to slam his phone onto the floor. “...Nowadays, even selling your body requires a college degree.”

Li Nuo had dropped out in the second year of high school due to health reasons and only held a middle school diploma. In today’s world, finding a job in a big city with just a middle school education was as rare as finding a mother-in-law who demanded no dowry at a matchmaking corner. It was only slightly more likely than the national football team winning a match.

So whenever someone asked which university Li Nuo graduated from, he would cast a disdainful glance at them.

“To get a job, I need to get a diploma,” he thought, opening WeChat to look for fake certificate suppliers.

While others’ WeChat contacts were mostly “classmates,” “colleagues,” “family,” or “lovers,” Li Nuo’s contacts were scattered across the world due to his inability to leave home. Among his 266 contacts were fake certificate vendors, sellers of low-quality banned weapons, Southeast Asian kidney scammers, and mercenary brokers from the Far East.

He liked to do his homework before handling any business.

These 266 contacts not only provided him with various daily conveniences but also served a deeper purpose. If he ever fell into dire straits, gathering some of these contacts and reporting them en masse to the authorities could yield a hefty reward.

Just then, a group chat notification popped up on his screen—it was his middle school class group, filled with familiar names, but none of them remembered him anymore.

He exited the group.

Just as he was about to leave, a message appeared: “Has everyone heard about that foreign cult serial murder case?”

[Real-world scenario mission triggered]

[Detective]

[Type: Intellectual competition]

[This mission is located within the ‘Cairo Game World.’ Four players can participate; two have already signed up. The mission will start in one hour.]

[Entry fee: 100 gold coins]

[Do you want to participate?]

Li Nuo could only hear the system’s voice but saw no panel prompt.

He hadn’t decided whether to take the mission yet.

He needed to return to the “Endless Corridor” to check the information first.

At that moment, an old woman walked past him, and Li Nuo happened to look up. Whether it was psychological or some other cause, in that instant, the old woman and the surrounding scenery seemed to pixelate into Minecraft-like mosaic blocks.

One second later, everything returned to normal.

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I come from the game.

But I have life.

He closed his eyes.

“Endless Corridor, player Li Nuo, number 5900.”

[Welcome back to the Endless Corridor]

When he opened his eyes again, he was standing in a space reminiscent of the “Hunter’s Dream.”

“What was the designer thinking, using tombstones as connection devices?”

Li Nuo squatted before the “mission” tombstone and tapped it. Clear mission information popped up on the stone surface.

After reading carefully, he sat cross-legged in front of the tombstone, lightly tapping his lips with his right hand’s fingers, opening his memory bank, retrieving certain information from the “Instruction Manual.”

There were two mission modes in the Endless Corridor.

…

[Script Mode: Enter the game instance to complete missions]

Higher risk, generous rewards, mission durations ranging from a few hours to several years. Usually, players wouldn’t be transported into strangers’ bodies.

Mission failure triggered penalties (gold coin deduction).

Limited to two missions per month in this mode.

…

[Reality Mode: Players can enter missions anytime and anywhere in the real world]

Lower risk, rewards mostly gold coins but in small amounts, no penalty for failure.

In this mode, player abilities derive from reality, equipment is locked, and there’s a chance to be transported into a stranger’s body.

…

“If reality mode is just like this, what’s the point of its existence?”

Li Nuo pondered.

This mode essentially restricted the player’s abilities, forcing them to play another person, like a simulator completing missions, with no penalties. The only effect was the possibility of altering real-world events.

He kept reading.

“Every month, you must pay 3,000 gold coins as a survival fee.”

“Entering a mission costs at least 100 gold coins as an entry fee.”

He opened the tombstone for the shop.

“The cheapest items: a healing potion for 500 gold coins, ether to restore mana for 1,000 gold coins, repair powder for 300 gold coins.”

He somewhat understood why newcomers were directly handed 1,500 to 3,000 gold coins upon passing the selection—it was a harsh place; you couldn’t survive without money.

“Why are all the weapons and armor gray?”

[Not available for players below level 20]

“Is it a charitable act to prevent low-level players from buying luxury goods?”

Li Nuo didn’t care much about the shop issues.

The parchment “Instruction Manual” also recorded that most items sold in the shop were imitations, okay for temporary use but not reliable for long-term investment.

More importantly, the shop did not sell skills.

As a side note, the mainstream way to obtain equipment and skills was quite “interesting.”

One, acquire them during missions;

Two, random draw during mission settlement.

The equipment or skills obtained during missions related to the current game era’s background.

You wouldn’t find a cation cannon in a sword-and-sorcery world, nor a super ultimate divine slash in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

And don’t expect reliable gear from killing small monsters.

Killing a hundred goblins might yield a one-in-a-thousand chance of obtaining a broken elf item.

But more likely, you’d get filthy goblin underwear.

So here’s the question.

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How to maximize the chance of acquiring better equipment and items during missions?

The answer: rely on luck, observation, and analysis.

Take “Final Fantasy VII” as an example; in a bar called “Seventh Heaven,” a large stash of weapons and supplies was hidden.

Outside, a super-luxury transformable motorcycle was parked, and inside it might be a large sword that could be assembled.

You just needed to learn the schedules of the bar’s beautiful owner and a certain spiky-haired guy to easily “obtain” the above equipment.

The mechanism of the Endless Corridor fundamentally told you there was no need to obsess over forcibly taking equipment; you could simply use your brain more.

The second method of random reward distribution was just luck.

Digressing, back to the point.

The high cost of shop supplies, monthly repayment of gold coins, and other miscellaneous gold coin expenses—based on the three points above—Li Nuo inferred that the purpose of [Reality Mode] was to let players earn some extra money.

Other possibilities couldn’t be ruled out.

Li Nuo had amassed a fair amount of gold coins due to his reckless play during the newcomer selection and was not short on money.

Naturally, he didn’t need to do [Reality Mode] missions.

But there was another side.

The tombstone holding the mission explanation recorded this:

[Probability System]

[There is a reward pool in the space. Items placed into it have an initial 5% chance to undergo ability enhancement. Depending on the item, investing gold coins can increase this enhancement probability.]

[Before the mission starts, you can place an equipment item into the reward pool and choose to invest an equal amount of gold coins to raise the chance of enhancement.]

[After mission completion, if successful, the placed equipment will receive one of two reward modes:]

One, equipment ability amplification (including new attributes or slight attribute boosts);

Two, receive required enhancement materials.

[If the mission fails, the item’s ability in the reward pool decreases, and all invested gold coins are confiscated.]

It was a gamble.

And the result could only be seen after completing the mission.

In this context, the meaning of [Reality Mode] emerged.

Players could earn pocket money by quickly completing [Reality Mode] missions while waiting out the [Probability System] cooldown.

Thinking this, Li Nuo opened his mailbox to check his rewards.

Inside were four white cards.

He took one out, and a special panel appeared:

[Random Draw Card]

[Draw card system, possibly acquiring equipment and skills, not limited by script mode]

“Well, let’s just try one.”

Li Nuo picked up a white card and silently said “Draw.”

The card flashed white light, and a panel appeared before the physical item.

[Brick]

[Quality: Common]

[Bonus: None]

[Durability: F-]

[Description: The international common language]

Li Nuo held the red brick, glaring with deadpan eyes as he tossed it in his hand.

“Damn it.”