Chapter One: The Second World

“Ring ring! Ring ring!” I jolted awake from my bed, drenched in sweat. Wiping my forehead, I muttered to myself, “Seriously? This damned alarm clock is way too loud.” I slammed my hand down to silence it, then got out of bed and drew open the curtains. The blinding sunlight poured into my icy room. A glance at the clock—7:35 AM, Beijing time. “Crap, I’m going to be late. I can’t believe I forgot today’s the college entrance exam!” In less than five minutes, I’d brushed my teeth, changed clothes, wolfed down four slices of bread and a bottle of Nutrient Express, then dashed out the door. I raced down the stairs, hopped on my bike, and sped toward school at breakneck speed.

When I finally reached the school gate, I parked my bike and bolted into the classroom, collapsing into my seat, gasping for breath.

A hand landed on my shoulder. “Long Ling, you nearly missed the college entrance exam! Were you at home admiring your pillow or something? Hahaha!”

“Ye Shuang, don’t tease me. If it weren’t for your alarm clock, I really would have been late.”

That’s Ye Shuang, my best friend since forever. We’ve been inseparable since kindergarten—fought together, sneaked out together, done everything except visit a brothel. Our bond is unbreakable.

Ye Shuang is a top student: president of the student council, class monitor, group leader, always at the top of the class, though not much of an athlete.

By comparison, I’m a lowly errand boy in the student council, and the sports rep in class. My only talent is that my stamina is inhuman. The PE teacher once said that with proper training, I could be China’s next Liu Xiang. Academically, though, I hover just above the bottom—not quite the worst, but not much better.

We chatted for a bit until the exam began. As I flipped through the test paper, my confidence ebbed away—my mind was blank, all those things I had memorized so well had vanished. My only hope was my best friend.

But then, disaster struck: we were required to sit according to odd and even numbers. I was number 11, he was 12—separated by fate. What had I done to deserve this?

After a fierce internal battle, I finished all the questions, right or wrong. After the academic exams came what I was best at—PE.

The first event was the vault. For me, child’s play. I volunteered to go first and even asked for the highest setting—twenty layers.

At the starting line, I took a deep breath. “This is nothing. Watch me soar!” I sprinted and leapt, nearly clearing all twenty layers—except, in my arrogance, I miscalculated and smacked my head into the last one, sending the whole vault crashing down. Thankfully, there was a mat; otherwise, I’d have ended up in the hospital.

Next up was the swimming test. Our school’s facilities were excellent, with a gymnasium and pool, but that meant an extra event for the PE exam: swimming 400 meters in one go. Manageable for me, but tough for Ye Shuang, who wasn’t exactly athletic. He barely made it, even almost drowned at the end, forcing me to jump in and drag him out.

After a long day, we headed home together. Ye Shuang said, “Long Ling, have you heard of that super online game, ‘Second World’?”

I replied, “Second World? I think I’ve heard of it. Which company made it again?”

“Come on, it’s by Dragon Soul Group—the world’s most famous gaming company. They invested billions over twenty years, partnered with over twenty countries and a thousand top enterprises. The game uses specially modified helmets, has over 90% realism, and five base classes: warrior, mage, archer, priest, and summoner. The best part? You can make real money! We’ll be rich!”

“Sounds good. We could be pro gamers, just like in the novels.”

“Great, let’s buy helmets together tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“With your alarm clock, that’s impossible,” I laughed.

The next day, we met at the bus stop and headed to the helmet store.

On the way, Ye Shuang said, “Do you know what this means?”

I asked, “What?”

“It means I’ll get to touch loads of beautiful girls in-game!” he burst out laughing.

“Boring. What’s the point? We should make them come to us,” I shot back.

“You’re even more wicked than I am.”

We exchanged grins and broke into laughter.

When we reached the store, the place was packed. We didn’t want to cut the line—after all, we had our IDs and a sense of public decency. But even by noon, the crowd hadn’t thinned, and we hadn’t budged an inch.

Eventually, tired of waiting, Ye Shuang dragged me to get a haircut. I didn’t really want to, but standing under the blazing sun wasn’t an option, and, more importantly, I was starving.

After half an hour in the salon, a fresh and dashing Ye Shuang stood before me. “Long Ling, am I the most handsome guy in school now?”

“Yes, and also the unluckiest. Enough nonsense, I’m starving. Let’s get lunch.”

“KFC?” He patted his pockets and discovered he only had twenty yuan. “Uh… never mind, let’s get dumplings instead.”

“Man, you expect me to pay for the helmets later too? How could you?”

“No problem, I brought my card. I’ll just withdraw some cash.” He flashed a card at me—it looked oddly familiar.

“Why does that card look familiar?”

“It was in your pocket,” Ye Shuang replied.

“You and your dad are exactly alike,” I muttered as I checked my pocket.

Ye Shuang’s expression darkened. “Don’t mention him. I’m nothing like my father.” Ye Shuang hated talking about his dad, who went to prison for theft when Ye Shuang was little. The neighbors never let it go—if anything was missing, they blamed him. His childhood was miserable. His mother eventually moved them away, but in his heart, he blamed his father for everything. After his father was released, they divorced and his father left them, only deepening Ye Shuang’s resentment.

“Alright, forget it. Let’s go, or I’ll have to take a bite out of you to fill my stomach.”

KFC was packed as well. “Long Ling, you queue, I’ll find us a seat,” Ye Shuang said—meaning I’d stand while he sat, typical of him. Whatever.

I didn’t hold back—ordered a family bucket, a big bottle of cola, and three burgers. Seeing the food, Ye Shuang protested, “Don’t you know I’m on a diet? This is way too much, such a waste!”

“Please, with your twiggy build, dieting is suicide. Just eat.” I devoured a drumstick and let my eyes wander to a girl in a miniskirt nearby.

“What’s so great about her? Her legs are thick. The girls in our class are way prettier,” Ye Shuang scoffed. Luckily, the girl was too far away to hear.

“Please, the girls in our class are as flat as boards. That girl’s at least curvy.”

After packing up the leftovers, I stood up.

“Hey, I’m still hungry!” Ye Shuang complained.

“Let’s go—if we keep eating, we’ll miss out on helmets.”

We returned to the store. The crowd had thinned over lunch. The staff welcomed us, explained the usage instructions, and then relieved me of ten thousand yuan—five thousand per helmet. Painful.

After buying the helmets, we headed to my place. Ye Shuang moved in that day—after all, I lived alone. My parents died in a car accident when I was six, and though the driver and insurance company paid out a million, money could never fill the void they left behind.

Once the helmets were set up, Ye Shuang asked, “Long Ling, have you decided which class you’ll play? I want to try the warrior.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, picturing him collapsing after a few minutes of melee combat. “With your frail build, you want to swing a sword? You’re better off as a mage—you level up fast, and I can tag along for experience.”

“Hmph, not a bad idea. When I’m rich, you’ll be working for me,” Ye Shuang said.

“Go to hell!” I shot back.

“Heh, I’ve already picked my in-game name—guess what it is?”

“Let me guess, something with ‘God’ in it, like every game you play. It’s almost time, let’s log in.”

With that, we each headed to our rooms and logged on.