Chapter 6

Chapter 6

NPC dodges, Bai Fuling grabs. NPC dodges, Bai Fuling grabs.

He ran, he chased, there was no escape.

In the fight between player and NPC, the player ultimately prevailed. Bai Fuling caught the NPC and dragged him back to the bus stop.

The tightly held NPC finally stopped trying to run after realizing escape was futile. A red bar appeared over his head as he shouted, "...Hey! What on earth do you want!? I'm calling the police!!!"

Call the police? So getting the sequence wrong too many times has a penalty too, Bai Fuling thought calmly. Probably detention or a fine.

But logically, if a player makes too many mistakes, the game should give corresponding hints or simply lower the difficulty. Otherwise, if players get angry and quit, wouldn't the official team be in trouble?

So Bai Fuling decisively seized the opportunity, actively questioning to find a hint: "How is one supposed to line up for the bus?"

"...What?"

"What's the correct way to queue for the bus?" Seeing the NPC didn't answer, Bai Fuling rephrased his question.

"You mean," the light blue-shirted, bespectacled NPC from earlier interjected from nearby, "you want everyone to queue up in a civilized and orderly manner to wait for the bus?"

Civilized, orderly queue. Hearing these words, Bai Fuling knew he'd caught a keyword—he understood! The order of the queue is based on "civilized" rules!

Just as he suspected, too many failures would trigger a hint. Now both the hint and the guiding NPC had arrived. Bai Fuling looked at the bespectacled NPC who seemed to be guiding him with satisfaction and nodded. "Exactly! That's it."

"..."

"..."

A string of ellipses appeared above the heads of all the NPCs present.

Several NPCs seemed to want to say something, but the light blue-shirted NPC took the lead. He raised his hand to adjust his glasses and said, "Alright, everyone. As you can see, this Little Friend is very persistent about this—let's just form a line."

Several NPCs had a tangle of black coils appearing above their heads. However, under the organization of the light blue-shirted NPC—or perhaps due to Bai Fuling's persistent pulling and tugging—they reluctantly stood in a neat line according to the "respect the elderly and cherish the young" order.

A horn honked in the distance. A bus finally approached from afar, driving closer.

Seeing the pixelated bus pull up on the screen, Bai Fuling was very happy. This was the joy of solving a puzzle!

Great, now he knew how to hail a bus in this game—though, the process felt a bit too cumbersome. Mainly because the NPCs kept running around everywhere.

He wondered if knocking them out would work. Maybe next time he could try knocking the NPCs unconscious and lining them up on the ground. Bai Fuling thought silently.

He began to miss the conscientious, proactive driver NPC from the initial login.

Would he encounter such an NPC who actively gets off the bus and gives up his seat again? Could that have been a newbie benefit?

Sigh, having your own mount is really important!

The pixelated bus stopped steadily at the station. Bai Fuling controlled his character to step in through the front door, spending one coin to pay the fare.

"Hello, I want to go to the Trade Market," he stated his destination to the driver NPC.

"The Trade Market requires taking the No. 8 bus. This is the No. 15 bus," the driver NPC replied.

What? There's a distinction between bus numbers? Bai Fuling was shocked upon hearing this. Shouldn't the vehicle just drive to the destination once the player states it?

Could the queue order affect which bus arrives? Or is it randomly refreshed after each successful queue? Damn it, he already paid 1 coin!

For players, every wasted bit of money is utterly heartbreaking, especially during the initial stage when funds are tight!!

He absolutely could not waste money, even if it was just one coin!!

Bai Fuling stared at the driver for one second, two seconds, three seconds, just like he stared at the small car in the middle of the road at the game's start.

Three seconds later, he spoke: "Why aren't you proactively giving up your seat for me?"

The driver: "...Huh???"

Seeing the bus driver NPC showed no sign of proactively giving up his seat, Bai Fuling adhered to the principle of creating opportunities where none existed, actively stepping forward to fight for it—meaning, to hijack the bus.

Who else should transportation serve if not the player? When playing a game, of course the player should be able to go wherever they want! Besides, he already paid one coin; he already had the right to use this bus!

At worst, hijacking the bus would result in a fine or jail time. And such penalties are actually better experienced earlier.

Early on, with no money or power, the game, to accommodate newbies, wouldn't punish too harshly, making it the perfect time to probe the game's penalty system. Bai Fuling wanted to see if this game's background logic was similar to the real world.

Bai Fuling boldly hijacked the bus, fearlessly being himself. The final result was also expected—reported by the crowd of NPCs on the bus, then stuffed into a wailing police car.

During this, Bai Fuling also tried to hijack the police car.

Unfortunately, the police had too high a health bar; he couldn't defeat them at this stage. So he could only regretfully give up, setting a plan to definitely try it in the future after preparing equipment and improving his stats.

Somewhat to Bai Fuling's surprise, the police car didn't take him to the police station but drove him back to Pelland Academy.

He realized this when he glimpsed the school's iconic triangular clock tower building and saw the location display on the mini-map.

...Huh? Is this the respawn point? Do you get sent back to the school to start over when encountering problems?

Bai Fuling blinked.

But he remembered the introductory instructions mentioned this was a game without save/load functions. The timeline always moves forward; the system automatically goes AFK when logging off.

The police car entered Pelland Academy. Bai Fuling checked the calendar and his backpack. After confirming nothing had reset, he let out a sigh of relief, followed by a bit of confusion.

If it's not a respawn point, why bring him back to school? Could the jail possibly be built inside the school? Merging buildings to save on modeling? How lazy!

This confusion was only answered when an NPC walked out of the school security office, took custody of him from the police, led him into a nearly empty small classroom, and locked the door.

—He really was serving his sentence inside the school!

Bai Fuling stared wide-eyed at the text prompt in the middle of the screen.

"Caught in the act of robbery, violating school rules and discipline, triggering confinement punishment!

PS: Confinement time shortened during newbie protection period. Remaining time: 8 hours."

Below this line of small text was a digital clock countdown, currently ticking away second by second.

Committing a crime is actually handled as violating school rules and discipline, and the punishment is confinement?

Well, for players, confinement that forces you to do nothing is indeed the cruelest punishment.

However, Bai Fuling didn't just sit and wait. Even with the confinement prompt on the screen, he tried to escape.

No windows—jumping out the window: pass.

Sewer grate too small—escaping via sewer: pass.

The toilet cannot be forcibly removed—trying to get creative with the toilet’s value is a no-go.

The cement floor is extremely hard—digging a tunnel to escape is futile.

The classroom door is locked from the outside with an electronic steel lock—you can’t force it open right now, so he has no choice but to give up—for now.

It’s still a matter of insufficient items and inadequate attributes. If he had cannons, explosives, or something similar, he could blast it open in one go. Bai Fuling muses. He needs to collect more—and keep evolving!

While thinking, he notices the small question mark next to the confinement notice. Bai Fuling clicks it, and a brief explanation appears on-screen:

“Confinement Room: Students of Pelland Academy—punishment prioritizes school rules and discipline—will be detained here.”

What? The school takes precedence over actual law—what kind of logic is *that*?? Bai Fuling grumbles inwardly.

Might as well admit it’s just a design shortcut—merging functions to save on game modeling. Saying it’s to cut costs isn’t even embarrassing—it’s human nature, after all.

Yet, in a way, this logic is quite convenient for the player.

Bai Fuling’s gaze returns to the earlier text prompt.

The keywords are “robbery,” “witnessed,” and “caught.”

Meaning: as long as you aren’t *witnessed*, or can avoid being *caught*, you can evade school punishment!

Bai Fuling grasps the key point—and feels pretty pleased.

Great—he’s found another rule loophole. For players, crimes and bounties are just another collectible. This outlaw glitch? Sweet.

Bai Fuling glances at the countdown timer—it seems to progress in real time—then decisively clicks auto-play and logs off.

Only a fool would stare at the screen and wait. Since he’s serving time in-game, it’s time to return to reality.

Exiting the game, Bai Fuling lets out a big stretch.

He sips tea from the table, then gets up and heads to the adjacent studio.

In reality, he’s a fairly well-known painter. His works sell for decent prices; painting a few pieces each month, plus interest from his late parents’ savings, is enough to get by.

Bai Fuling enters the studio and lifts the cloth covering the canvas. The previous painting is barely sketched out.

Mulling over the idea, he dips his brush in paint—just as he’s about to begin—he hears a *ding* from his phone.

Did he forget to set it to silent or do-not-disturb mode again? Bai Fuling frowns, pulls out his phone with one hand, and unlocks it via facial recognition.

A pixelated pop-up appears—black tentacle border, electronic pixel font:

“Wel_come Your\Join-Welcome Your Join■Welcome Your Join△”

Is this a game notification? The only game he’s played recently is that random pixel game that popped up earlier. Bai Fuling tilts his head. Why so many garbled characters and typos… must be a system compatibility issue.

“Do you li&囍&like this world|?”

It’s a feedback survey. Bai Fuling thinks. This game *is* fun—offers plenty of freedom, exploration is engaging—a great way to kill time.

So he casually taps “like.”

“■Will you always]] li'ke'' it?”

As everyone knows, “I’ll play ××× for life!” is a classic gamer slogan—usually shouted in peak enthusiasm. But after all the twists and turns, most inevitably quit—or uninstall.

Right now, Bai Fuling is still fully immersed—and since this is just an experience survey, he plays along and selects “yes.”

The pop-up hangs for a second, flickers—and spits out a string of characters:

“Welcome Your Join■Welcome Your Join''Welcome Your Join-Welcome Welcome Welcome Welcome&＜＜”

Staring at the inexplicable garbled mess on-screen, Bai Fuling sighs and closes the pop-up—no further response.

“What game company made this survey? Must be intentionally weird,” Bai Fuling mutters, dismissing it.

He sets his phone aside and refocuses on the canvas.

That’s when he notices a blot of black ink has somehow dripped onto it.

“Oh no—no!” Bai Fuling quickly pulls the brush away. The ink stain bleeds down the paper. Just a thin streak—but jarringly conspicuous.

Perhaps because he’d just finished playing the game, it looks eerily like the spreading black tentacles from the game’s opening.

“…Ah well—good thing I’d only just started. Let’s restart.” Bai Fuling removes the sheet.

He tosses the ruined paper into the wastebasket and pulls out a fresh, pristine one—smoothing it carefully.

=

After washing up and lying in bed before sleep, Bai Fuling picks up his phone—and sees the game’s pure black square icon again.

Thinking about it—it’s been about eight hours since he last played. The confinement time should be over—time to jump back in!

Bai Fuling logs back in, ready to go.

On-screen, black tentacles spread and retract—the game loads. He’s now sitting on a chair outside the confinement room door.

Everything’s dim, and the in-game clock reads 23:36.

Seeing that time, Bai Fuling panics instantly—*Wait—he hasn’t searched all the trash cans yet today!* It’s almost midnight—and they’re about to reset!!

So he ignores the prompt beside him—“The night is deep; you should return to the dormitory to rest”—makes his character leap up from the chair, and dives straight into looting trash cans.

There are trash cans both inside and outside the teaching building. Inside, there’s roughly one per floor. Bai Fuling sprints from the top-floor confinement room, clearing every trash can on his way down to the first floor. Just as he steps outside—a flashlight beam hits him.

“Who’s there?” It’s Pang Chengyu, holding the flashlight—on night patrol duty tonight. Pelland Academy’s night patrol team usually consists of one teacher and three students.

Spotting the figure emerging from the building, Pang Chengyu pauses—then instantly recognizes him:

It’s the transfer student who stole a car, enraged his father, jumped from the fourth floor—and later got busted hijacking a bus!

The description’s a bit lengthy—but yes, that’s exactly who he is.

The transfer student’s eye-catching fluorescent raincoat is gone—replaced by a plain white T-shirt—yet he still wears that strange angelic halo atop his head.

“You…” Pang Chengyu is momentarily stunned—but since this is a golden opportunity to talk, he decides to play it friendly.

After all, he *told* his dad this was his friend—so now’s the time to actually *be* friends.

“Just came out of the confinement room and got lost? Let me take you back to the dormitory,” Pang Chengyu says, striking up conversation naturally. “Remember me? We met before—you rode in my car. Well… thanks for, uh, giving me a lift to school.”

He’s embellished that whole incident by a factor of *n*.

The transfer student glances over: “Ah—you’re here.”

He remembers. Pang Chengyu beams brightly.

The transfer student came charging at him.

The transfer student blew right past him.

The transfer student barreled out without so much as a look.

The transfer student pounced on the trash can outside the building like a man possessed: "Thank goodness! You're here!!"

Pang Chengyu: ???

Author's Note:

Pang Chengyu: These days, a good-looking guy doesn't even stack up against garbage.