Chapter 1 Reality (1)

Thriller

Love-Hate Relationship Suspense Mystery

Chapter 1: Reality (Part 1)

The moment the instance ended, Shi Wu was left with only a piercing system tone in his ears:

“Congratulations, player Shi Wu. Instance cleared. Consciousness returning.”

Then, as if drained of strength, he was yanked out of the chaotic abyss by an inexplicable force, his body suddenly weightless.

The next instant.

He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was still the familiar, maddeningly dull metal ceiling—cold, hard lines in the usual gray-white, boring color scheme.

Shi Wu was stunned for a few seconds, his mind still tangled in the bloody, fiery chaos of the instance. Then, slowly and with extreme annoyance, he realized one thing—

*

Fuck, why the hell is it Bao Yan’s bed again?

The crisp, woody scent floating in the air seeped relentlessly into his nostrils, and at that moment, Shi Wu heard the man beside him click his tongue softly: “Awake? Is my bed comfortable?”

Some time earlier.

Border star sector, Time Pirates’ underground base.

A pirate shook a can, a toothpick dangling from the corner of his mouth, his tone irritated: “Boss, where the hell did that batch of goods end up? Even our own channels are jammed, and we can’t get through to Old Partner. If this drags on any longer, the black market prices are gonna crash. What are we supposed to use to hold the line?”

A few others chimed in: “Yeah, boss, didn’t you say a few days ago we’d release a batch on the ‘Prajna’ market? Why’d we pull back today?”

“Could it be the Federation’s fishing again? They’re always lurking around our turf, especially that guy—what’s his name, Bao Yan. Always loves to pick fights with us.”

“Enough noise.”

A lazy voice drifted down from the high seat, slightly nasal, cold and aloof with a hint of impatience. The young man reclined in a metal chair, the light sweeping across his face to reveal deep-set brows, sharp, striking features, slightly upturned eyes, and pupils of a very pale amber. His jet-black short hair softened his aggressive edge, adding a touch of innocence.

But no one dared to underestimate this young man.

He was Shi Wu, the notorious scourge of the pirate world, loathed by both the Empire and the Federation, yet neither dared to provoke him lightly.

At the moment, he wore a black jacket, the collar open to reveal a high-density carbon vest and a glimpse of milky-white skin. He spun a star coin between his fingers with practiced, rapid movements, yet it couldn’t mask the irritation in his eyes.

“You’re asking me where the goods went? I’d fucking like to know too.”

Shi Wu pressed the spinning coin firmly into his palm, snorted coldly, and swept his gaze over the group. “Old Partner’s unreachable, Federation transport lines are all halted, the Empire’s border is dead silent, and the old nest is quiet as a grave. Who knows what they’re scheming?”

“Could it be war?” someone below whispered.

“Bullshit.” Shi Wu scoffed. “If they were really going to fight, they’d dare not warn me in advance? I’d blow up their command tower the night before and set off fireworks on top of it.”

That line got the pirates laughing, lightening the mood a little, but no one could truly relax.

The border was abnormal, the star network intermittent, communications severely delayed. Even the most stable supply transit stars had fallen silent. Though the Federation and Empire publicly claimed it was merely a stellar storm causing signal disruptions and transport errors, anyone with eyes could see this wasn’t just a simple logistics crisis. It felt like something far more dangerous was quietly brewing.

Shi Wu roughly ruffled his hair, the irritation and unease in his heart growing like weeds.

But what bothered him wasn’t just the current predicament—it was also that bizarre scene from the last deal.

It happened on a chaotic mining asteroid. He’d been negotiating with the local biggest mine boss over priority purchase rights for a batch of high-purity energy ore.

Thinking they had home turf advantage and superior numbers, the boss had made an outrageous demand.

But Shi Wu needed only three sentences.

First, Shi Wu leaned back in his chair with a light laugh and flicked a data chip from his fingers. It contained records of the boss’s intercepted cargo: “Grade-prohibited neurotoxin, black-marketed from Old Wang last month. Mine Boss, if I’m not mistaken? A full ten crates! Enough for the Federation and Empire to grind you to dust ten times over, right?”

The boss’s face instantly flushed white, cold sweat beading on his temples, the greed in his eyes replaced by wariness.

Second, Shi Wu wasn’t some bottomless monster, but this mine boss was too insatiable, trying to jack up the price on the spot. So, he decided to scare him a little.

Leaning slightly forward, Shi Wu locked eyes with the man. “Your son is adorable. I hear he’s been frequenting that antique toy shop in the west district lately? It’s not very safe for a child to wander alone.”

He said this extremely softly, his tone even gentle, yet it made the mine boss shudder violently, nearly collapsing into his chair.

Third, Shi Wu looked at the mine boss, slowly straightened up, and with a smile, pushed a glass of wine toward him. “Either we become friends, drink this, and settle on my price.” His eyes slightly upturned, amber irises reflected in the beautiful red wine glass.

“Or, take your whole family to the Federation’s confrontation platform. Your choice?”

The mine boss broke into a cold sweat, face deathly pale, all his earlier arrogance gone. Trembling, he reached for the glass to toast and submit.

Shi Wu’s lips curled knowingly. He didn’t accept the toast but stood up directly, turned, and left, casually leaving the handover to his subordinates.

However, just two steps out, a sudden scream erupted behind him.

Shi Wu whirled around to see a scene that shattered his understanding of reality—the bodyguard was pointing in terror at the now-empty boss’s chair. In the air, a palm-sized remnant of the mine boss’s clothing seemed to be rapidly turning transparent, dissolving into points of light before vanishing completely.

Then, *clatter*—the expensive energy pen the mine boss had been holding moments earlier fell from mid-air onto the table.

The man had disappeared.

In that instant, Shi Wu seemed to hear a faint, icy, almost inhuman mechanical voice around him:

“Violation... purged.”

“Fuck.” The low curse escaped Shi Wu’s clenched teeth, pulling him back from the memory. His subordinates were startled by his suddenly darkened expression.

“Goddamn it, running out of money is the real apocalypse.” He forcibly suppressed the churning emotions and shifted the topic, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t become a pirate to run a charity.”

Why was everything starting to feel so damn weird now?

The pirates exchanged glances, no one daring to speak.

They all knew their boss, though he’d blown up ships and hijacked cargo without hesitation, never killed indiscriminately. He loved money, openly and unabashedly. And now, with supplies blocked, markets crashing, and black market prices skyrocketing, that was the kind of thing that could drive a man to murder.

Shi Wu sat cross-legged, silent for a moment, then suddenly said, “I’m heading out.”

“Where to?”

He curled his lips, stretching back. “To pay our ‘good neighbor,’ the Federation government, a visit. Knock on their door, ask how they’ve been lately. Why aren’t they shipping anything for me to hijack?”

The pirates below: !

Federation Capital Star.

“Beep—”

The Federation Security Bureau, famously known as the "most secure in the galaxy," had just had its front gates breached.

Shi Wu, clad in a neat uniform with a transformed appearance and a forged identification chip pinned to his chest, kept his gaze fixed ahead, yet his eyes subtly scanned every inch of blind spots. Passing Federation personnel occasionally nodded mechanically in his direction. He responded with a smile, exuding the inexperienced politeness of a new hire, bristling with that "first day on the job" energy—almost every pore screaming that this person posed no threat.

It seemed his disguise was flawless this time.

Unfortunately, things never go too smoothly.

"Hey."

A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder.

Shi Wu looked back.

It was a middle-aged man, ordinary-looking and gaunt, standing behind Shi Wu with one hand on his shoulder, a deep frown on his face. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."

Shi Wu's heart tightened abruptly, but the polite, compliant smile on his face didn't falter in the slightest. He just turned his head slightly, his lowered eyes discreetly assessing the man.

Knuckles thick, calluses on the left hand—a textbook records clerk. A surgical scar near the corner of his right eye, lips pale and chapped.

Five meters away was a camera blind spot; the corridor was empty. The only exit path lay a few steps behind the middle-aged man.

Conclusion: The target was arrogant and stupid, not strong, but likely quite troublesome if he made a scene.

Shi Wu blinked, smiling innocently. "I'm just a small-time dispatcher, transferred to Zone Five for the first time today. You probably haven't noticed me... Our positions change pretty frequently here."

"Who are you trying to fool?" The middle-aged man's face turned cold, his gaze fixed intently on him. "That uniform of yours is wrong. I remember only three people wear this gold-threaded set. You're definitely not one of them."

Shi Wu's eye twitched. He glanced down and sure enough—there was a fine gold-thread serial number around the cuff.

Damn it. Shi Wu recalled the black-market merchant who sold him the clothes, that bastard's smiling eyes—the guy was a con artist!

But his expression remained unchanged, his mind already cycling through several contingency plans.

"You're really observant. I genuinely didn't expect someone at your pay grade to remember serial numbers," Shi Wu chuckled lightly, his tone relaxed.

"I've been in registration for ten years," the man snorted coldly, pulling up his own sleeve. "Look clearly, this is the silver-threaded serial for regular staff. Yours is gold thread—only three people in the entire Federation have that. I've never seen you before."

Shi Wu fell silent for two seconds, the smile still hanging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes had quietly darkened.

"You guessed pretty accurately," Shi Wu said, rolling up his sleeve. The gleam of gold thread shimmered under the corridor lights.

The surroundings remained empty, only the metallic floor reflecting a cold light.

In the next instant, his wrist moved slightly, and an extremely fine, cold glint slipped from between his fingers.

The man didn't even see how he moved before his body went limp and collapsed.

Shi Wu caught the slowly falling body and sighed.

"Is the Federation going soft now?" Keeping someone like this on the payroll. He hefted the unconscious man and dragged him into an empty room nearby, casually using a nearby cleaning robot to lock it.

Shi Wu crouched down again, checked the floor to confirm no bloodstains, then glanced up at the camera—just avoiding its angle.

The corridor returned to silence.

Shi Wu's smile returned as he strolled deeper into the area. He walked forward, his gaze sweeping back and forth over the corners where walls and passages met, as if casually observing, yet also deliberately searching for something.

The Federation Security Bureau was absurdly large, but everyone knew the deeper you went, the more likely you were to find real secrets.

As Shi Wu passed a row of standardized doors, his steps paused slightly.

One of the doors was different.

No number, no scanning device. The surface was made of cold, hard rare metal, but upon it, one could faintly see an extremely subtle energy pattern, shimmering with a faint blue glow under the lights, almost imperceptible.

Shi Wu stood before the door, squinting as he examined it for a moment. Today's entry into the Federation had been a bit too smooth—it almost felt like an invitation into a trap.

"Since you've invited me, I might as well take a good look."

He pulled a circular decryption chip from his pocket and slapped it against the doorframe. The chip emitted a soft beep and began automatically hacking the system.

"Beep—beep beep—"

Three seconds later, the door slid open silently. The circular chip fell to the ground, its mechanical legs unfolding noiselessly.

Inside the corridor was pitch black.

Shi Wu took out a pair of invisible light-sensitive goggles and stepped inside with nearly inaudible footsteps.

The door closed automatically behind him.

Through the light-sensitive lenses, Shi Wu saw that beyond the door was another long corridor with no end in sight.

Cold white light cast faint guiding trails on the floor. The entire passage was deep, silent, and airtight, with only the occasional slight sound from underfoot amplifying his presence in the endlessly echoing space.

After walking for what felt like an eternity, he finally saw a trace of light at the end.

It was a transparent glass door. Inside, he could vaguely make out several figures conversing. The lighting was subdued and calm, and the meeting room was lined entirely with intelligent anti-signal materials—clearly an internal confidential discussion area.

He held his breath and crept closer. The light-sensitive goggles automatically focused, gradually sharpening the blurred images behind the glass.

Several low voices reached him:

"The higher-ups were asking me just yesterday how things were going."

"This consciousness virus has already spread to the capital region. It's getting hard to suppress the news."

"This copy system is too powerful. We still haven't figured out its transmission method."

"Many people over there are already infected. I've heard that when people fail missions and die in the copy, they die in reality too."

...

Shi Wu's eyes narrowed, his heart pounding hard.

So that's how it is.

The recent inexplicable disappearances, strange interstellar storms, the intermittent star network—everything seemed to connect into a single thread at this moment.

The old comrades who lost contact, the missing cargo—it might all be related to this virus.

The meeting inside was nearly over. The eldest among them stood up and looked toward the handsome, aloof man beside him.

"Bao Yan, what's your take on this?"

Bao Yan? What's he doing here?

Shi Wu's breath hitched sharply, and he immediately shifted his gaze toward the man who had been obscured until now.

The man inside the glass door sat quietly, dressed in a crisp dark uniform, his expression stern. His fingers lightly tapped the armrest, projecting total ease.

The moment Shi Wu’s gaze met Bao Yan’s, the latter seemed to notice something.

Bao Yan’s eyelashes lifted slightly, his golden eyes swept indifferently across, his gaze landing precisely on the white metal wall as if piercing through it, locking onto the enemy’s hiding spot.

Shi Wu froze completely, his heart hammered in his chest.

Author’s note: