MMPS Ch. 43

Chapter 43: Point-Deducting Operations

Yu An gazed at the sun flag fluttering atop the lighthouse, lost in thought. The scene within the Illusion Chamber felt disturbingly real. Soft particles of simulated dusk light slipped through his fingers, disappearing as quickly as they came.

His sleeves, once smooth and dark, had turned into coarse burlap. The pitch-black hood he wore had shifted into the attire of an old-world traveler, though the hood’s shadowy effect remained. The traveler’s cloak now veiled his face completely.

The trial version of Gray Crow: Toy House included three additional scenes. Among them, Lost Town was the one Yu An played the least. Designed for four players, it was the final level in this release and by far the most difficult. Its high level of challenge made it risky to stream without things going horribly wrong.

The boss at the end of Lost Town was notoriously unforgiving. Its attack range was vast, its strikes relentless, and its speed incredible. Yu An had spent an entire afternoon trying to defeat it. At best, he managed to push the boss to its enraged phase, where it became an unstoppable force of destruction. For both streamers and viewers, it was nothing short of torture.

This design choice by the developers was intentional. The boss, known as the Parasite of the Dead Lake, had been purposefully strengthened in both health and attack mechanics. The goal was to provoke skilled players into taking on the challenge, avoiding the risk of people mocking, “Is this all there is to the Gray Crow: Toy House?” before the official version is even released.

Casual players, however, could bypass the boss entirely. A rugged path allowed them to finish the level without engaging in the final fight.

A popular streamer named Huang Qi once created a video for his audience, where he used a cheat mod to max out his character’s stats and obliterate the Parasite with a single hit dealing 999 damage. To top it off, he customized his traveler’s cloak, replacing it with a giant pink bow perched on the character’s head. The video gained plenty of attention until the company stepped in. Huang Qi received an internal warning and reluctantly made the video private.

Yu An flexed his hands experimentally. The sensation was identical to reality. Beneath his feet, the cracks between the cobblestones were overgrown with wild grass. Nearby, Zhao Ran sat on a large boulder just outside the desolate town. His gaze, like Yu An’s, was fixed on the distant lighthouse and its sun flag.

Although all characters in this scenario were travelers, each had a unique outfit. Zhao Ran wore a short-brimmed painter’s hat, and a satchel with an artist’s toolbox hung across his shoulder.

Yu An walked over and found a spot on the boulder to climb up and sit. He let his legs swing back and forth idly.

“You look pretty lively. Does it still hurt?” Zhao Ran asked, turning his head slightly.

Feigning indifference, Yu An kept swinging his legs. “What? Did you even try? I didn’t feel a thing.”

Zhao Ran smirked and reached out, pinching the inside of Yu An’s thigh. A faint, jagged bite mark marred the skin there, prompting Yu An to clamp his legs together with a sharp hiss.

“You’re so stubborn.” Zhao Ran teased, his tone light and playful, as though coaxing a child. There wasn’t even a hint of apology in his voice.

A faint humming sound buzzed in Yu An’s ears, as though a voice was echoing from deep within his mind. He focused intently and soon made out the words of Yong Zheng, an intern from the tech team.

“Attention: Your bodies are currently inside the Illusion Chamber at the circus. Your consciousness has been linked to the game’s Illusion Chamber. In this dual-layered illusion, proceed with extreme caution.”

“The scene has been completely sealed. Entry is allowed, but there is no exit. The sole way out is within the Plague Village scenario. Eliminate the aberration there and send me a signal. Only then will I open the exit.”

“Once I confirm the link is stable, I will connect backup interns to the scene. Be sure to identify them carefully.”

“Keep in mind that some background elements, textures, and NPCs that were previously non-interactive in the original game may now be materialized. This could lead to unexpected dangers. Stick to familiar, safe routes wherever possible.”

“You must investigate all three scenes in order. Find the target aberrations and exit through the designated point.”

“Injuries here will have more severe consequences than those in the real world. They can damage your brain’s neurons. Take every step carefully. I won’t be able to monitor your actual condition. After ten minutes, our contact will cut off entirely. From that point on, you’re on your own.”

The static faded, and Yong Zheng’s voice disappeared. The world fell silent. Only the rustling of dead leaves under the golden glow of the dusk remained.

Yu An hopped off the boulder and crouched to sift through the gravel scattered across the overgrown ground. He traced the path leading into the town. The dry grass, warmed by the sunlight, carried a faint, earthy scent.

Out of habit, he reached for his waist, but his Core Storage Analyzer wasn’t there. None of his external equipment had made it into this place. Luckily, he had planned for this and had embedded a core directly into his eye socket before entering.

It was the Picture Within the Painting Core, salvaged from the Illusion Chamber beauty salon. This silver-tier nucleus was the only one in Yu An’s possession that could be used an unlimited number of times. His spiked bat hadn’t made it through, and most of the cores stored in his analyzer were limited-use. If he could get his hands on another cores with combat enhancements, it would make a world of difference.

The initial process of linking to the silver-tier cores had been excruciating. Zhao Ran’s earlier question about pain referred to that moment. His thoughts had wandered elsewhere, though.

When Yu An first integrated the nucleus, the pain had been so intense it knocked him to the ground. Blood seeped from his left eye, nose, and mouth as he collapsed into Zhao Ran’s arms. The agony was so overwhelming that he couldn’t cry. Instead, he buried his head against Zhao Ran’s chest, his breathing weak and labored.

Zhao Ran stroked his back, weighing the benefits he offered against the suffering Yu An endured. Was it truly worth it?

Eventually, the worst of the rejection phase subsided. Yu An lifted his face, his left eye glowing faintly with a pale silver light. His forehead was drenched in sweat, yet he smiled as he clung to Zhao Ran’s waist.

“Ran-ge, do you feel guilty? I’m working under you, so this is something you owe me. From now on, if I hold your hand, you’re not allowed to shake me off.”

Refusing would be a waste of effort. He had a hundred ways to wear someone down until they agreed. Zhao Ran knew his temperament better than anyone else.

The gravel path stretched desolately ahead, leading them deeper into the town. The eerie, quiet atmosphere seemed to cling to them like a second skin. At dusk, the setting sun lingered unnaturally low on the horizon, its dim, yellowed light gradually fading, yet never truly vanishing.

The town was utterly lifeless. Rows of old, pointed-roofed mansions stood in disarray, their walls damp and peeling. Rust streaks left by rainwater marred the stone below the second-floor windows, and in the dim light, they looked disturbingly like flowing blood.

Out of nowhere, Yu An’s gaze locked onto a face behind one of the grimy panes of glass.

It was the face of an old man, his eye sockets hollow and his skin dried and wrinkled like parchment. The presence of someone who hadn’t moved away from this forsaken town struck an unsettling chord. The man’s cold, venomous glare bore down on them, as though the arrival of outsiders had shattered what little peace remained. He twisted his body, seemingly preparing to open the window and shout at them.

Yet, instead of using his hands to unlatch the iron frame, he leaned forward and clamped his toothless gums around the bolt, struggling to wrench it open.

The bizarre sight defied explanation. Yu An wasted no time lingering beneath the window. Grabbing Zhao Ran’s arm, he bolted down the street.

“Uh…” Zhao Ran stumbled, startled by the sudden grip. As Yu An dragged him forward at a relentless pace, he had no choice but to run along, completely in the dark about what had just happened.

“I don’t remember seeing that old man NPC in the game, better keep our distance.”

At a crossroad, they brushed past a group of children riding unicycles. The kids sped by, their faces alight with joy, yet their passage was eerily silent. Each had something clamped in their mouths. Some a bag of candy, others a pinwheel. They didn’t utter a word, likely to avoid dropping whatever they held.

“Those NPCs weren’t in the game either.” Yu An said, pausing to run a hand over a rusted street sign. In the game, these props were rendered with only vague red-and-white blocks, but here, the text on the sign was unmistakably legible.

The names of the districts were clearly painted on the signs, and the level of detail Gray Crow Games put into crafting this setting was astonishing.

“In interviews, Gray Crow said this scene was modeled after a real location.” Yu An mused aloud. “They described it as an ancient, hidden ghost town and mentioned that several members of the production team were injured while scouting it. Maybe the Illusion Chamber replicated the actual town and its original inhabitants.”

Standing before the sign, Zhao Ran studied the names inscribed there, his chin resting on his hand. “If that’s the case, it’s not all that frightening. What worries me is anything that’s different.”

The town was crisscrossed with canals, dividing its buildings into separate sections. To reach the lighthouse at the town’s edge, they needed to cross a filthy waterway.

The air reeked of decay. On the water’s surface, countless black, spherical objects the size of plates bobbed, their smooth exteriors gleaming with a sickly sheen.

“Those are man-eating tadpoles.” Yu An said, crouching to inspect them more closely. “They’re minor enemies in this setting, hiding in the waterways. Anywhere there’s water, you’ll find these things. If anyone falls in, they’ll be torn apart and devoured. Wading through is out of the question.”

“Their official name is Hell Piece, though calling it a man-eating tadpole is also very fitting.” Zhao Ran corrected, squatting by the water’s edge. He picked up a stick and prodded one of the black spheres. It rolled over, revealing a gaping maw lined with sharp teeth that snapped the stick clean in two.

“There was nothing about this in the game’s lore…”

“It’s a creature from my hometown.” Zhao Ran said with a faint smile.

Yu An’s curiosity was piqued again. Peering closer at the gaps between the swarming tadpoles, he noticed a faint glimmer beneath the murky water. He considered trying to fish it out, but anything he used, be it wood or metal, was quickly bitten in half when it entered the tadpoles’ domain. 

Reluctantly, he gave up and started looking for another way across.

Not far ahead, a large, rotund man stood on a platform in the middle of the waterway, cradling an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes. He waved at them and called out loudly: “Trying to cross? Be kind and give me five hundred bucks for baby formula, and I’ll let you pass!”

“A beggar.” Yu An read the name of the NPC aloud. This bald man was one of the game’s programmed characters. Though he appeared to be a beggar, he was really a robber. His role was to block the only crossing point and demand payment. If you handed over the money, he’d step aside.

Getting past him in the game wasn’t difficult. Five hundred in-game currency wasn’t much; you could earn it by grinding a few man-eating tadpoles. Yu An usually bypassed him by exploiting a glitch, using precise maneuvers to jump past the beggar’s edge without paying. It was faster and cost nothing.

“With two of us, he’ll want a thousand before he lets us cross. We don’t have weapons, so farming the tadpoles isn’t an option, and we can’t waste too much time here.”

Though Zhao Ran had joined him, he was still technically the examiner, tasked with grading the intern’s performance in this third challenge. Unless it was a life-or-death situation, he wouldn’t intervene to help Yu An.

After a moment of thought, Yu An glanced at Zhao Ran, stealing a quick look at him.

The expression on his face was unmistakable: the kind of look one gives before wrecking the place, just to check if anyone’s watching.

Zhao Ran immediately understood his plan. Yu An wanted to push the beggar into the water. Most people might hesitate out of pity for the baby, but Yu An clearly wasn’t like most people.

However, the beggar was tall and fat, his massive frame several times larger than Yu An’s. Without weapons or a combat-oriented Aberrant Core, Zhao Ran didn’t think Yu An would take the risk.

Still, he braced himself, ready to catch Yu An if he fell into the water.

Yu An gauged the distance carefully. Suddenly, he darted from the water’s edge, leaping onto the stone platform. Using the edge of the platform as a springboard, he launched himself toward the opposite side of the waterway.

What Zhao Ran didn’t expect was the quick motion of Yu An’s left hand as he passed by. In one swift movement, Yu An snatched the swaddled infant from the beggar’s arms.

The beggar froze in shock, twisting toward Yu An’s retreating figure.

Yu An landed firmly on the other side. Turning back, he loosened his grip on the swaddling clothes. The infant slid out, dangling upside-down by one leg just above the water.

“You—” The beggar lunged forward, arms outstretched to catch the baby. In his haste, he misstepped. His foot slipped off the platform, and he tumbled into the filthy water.

The smell of blood drew the man-eating tadpoles in a frenzy. Their jagged teeth tore into their prey with savage abandon, staining the murky water a deep red in mere moments.

Unfazed, Yu An waited until the tadpoles were fully occupied. Then, rolling up his pant legs, he waded into the now-clearer section of water, heading toward the faint glow he had spotted earlier.

“…”

Zhao Ran stood there, stunned. After a long silence, he scowled and docked two points from Yu An’s score sheet.