"How can we prevent others from viewing our personal data—or worse, from tracking us down in the real world and discovering our true identities?" Cai Ya's question caught Chu Lian off guard. That's right—this wasn't a true Lord God Space, and players could freely log out at any time.
If someone bore a grudge, or coveted another's equipment, what would stop them from finding that person in reality and exacting revenge—or taking what they wanted—for a fraction of the cost it would take in-game?
Yet, one of the most thrilling aspects of this game concept was its realism. It exposed players to a cold, harsh truth: once you die, you lose everything.
Every character's appearance would mirror their real-life looks, enhancing immersion. Those so-called virtual avatars were merely ego-driven illusions to satisfy vanity—something Chu Lian detested.
"We could add a facial-blur feature," Chu Lian suggested after some thought. "When enabled, your appearance won't change, but others won't be able to clearly see what you actually look like." It wasn't a perfect solution, but it could reduce the risk of real-world conflicts.
"But that shouldn't be active all the time, right? Most people would prefer to live openly in such a realistic game," Li Xiu'er pointed out. "Bloodlines and races might alter some features, but the basic outline should remain. If people could completely change their looks, it would ruin the immersion."
"And you can't deny it—humans have inherent flaws," Liu Yanran added. "If they see their teammates obtaining better rewards or items, jealousy could arise. Even though betrayal carries a heavy price, if the reward outweighs the risk—or if the consequences are manageable—many might still choose betrayal."
Chu Lian groaned, holding her head. "Ugh, this is such a headache... Why didn't those online game novels ever explain these details properly?!"
Only now did she realize how complicated it all was when she had to design everything herself. It made her brain feel like it was about to explode.
"Lian, you're also forgetting about things like professions, races, balance, progression systems, companions, marriage options, and whether or not physical intimacy should even be possible in-game," Inori added with a faint smile—an elegant yet merciless follow-up strike. Critical hit ×1.
"Big Sis, you also didn't explain how major quests should work—what kind of rewards players should receive, or what limits there should be. What if a player encounters something too frightening or traumatic? How should the system react? And what about players attacking assault NPCs, non-humans, or beasts in other worlds?" Chu Chu couldn't resist chiming in, adding her own strike. Critical hit ×2.
"If someone with disabilities or illnesses—or burn scars—joins the game, should they appear the same way they do in real life? That seems unfair. Maybe they should be allowed to have their healthiest form inside the game," Liu Yanran said, invoking a touch of humanitarian compassion. Critical hit ×3.
"And what about players who don't want to choose any mode at all?" Li Xiu'er joined in boldly, emboldened by the others. "Some might just want to live in the player hub as merchants, chefs, or teachers. If they never enter other worlds or take missions, how should the system handle them? Should we create a detailed job catalog for them?" Critical hit ×4.
"Even though you mentioned that players can study in this world, there will always be some who become so addicted that they stop learning, working, or exercising. How will you handle that? Are you planning to include in-game reminders to tell them what to do? But that would require collecting their personal data. One or two players might be fine—but what if you need to collect data for everyone? How much manpower would that take? Or what kind of settings would you need to give the light brain to process all that?" Cai Ya folded her arms, watching Chu Lian, who had already buried her face in the pillow, and struck again. Critical hit ×5.
"And what about the logout mechanism? If players can freely exit the game, won't that completely break the mechanics? Imagine being in the middle of a difficult mission—you could just log out instantly. That's practically a cheat skill."
"This should be a global game, right?" Ruriko Nana asked, jumping in. "Have you considered what might happen if players from hostile nations or rival ethnic groups meet in the same city, team, mission, or world? Won't some of them ignore the game's rules and just try to wipe out each other? Some countries might ban the game entirely, while others would welcome it with open arms. Aren't you afraid they'll use the game as a tool for political or military manipulation?" Critical hit ×6.
"And the economic side of things—have you thought about letting some people actually make a living through this game?" Lux Lyle followed up. "Even if they can't earn huge profits, there will be players who love the game deeply and want to contribute. Shouldn't they be able to do so without being looked down upon or pressured by their families? According to your concept, this would be a fully autonomous game system—but that's a bit too cold and inhuman, don't you think?" Her eloquence in Mandarin was impeccable. Unfortunately, she used it to deliver another blow. Critical hit ×7.
"Have you thought about what would happen if cultivators entered the game?" said a silver-haired, red-eyed girl, speaking for the first time—and delivering a devastating strike. "Even if you limit initial stats, their combat experience and training far surpass ordinary people. They'll easily dominate, monopolizing resources and high-level quests, becoming stronger and stronger. Eventually, the entire game will turn into their personal playground—a single-player experience for the elite." Critical hit ×8.
"Lian, there's also the matter of balance across the different paths—technology, magic, martial arts, cultivation, faith, physical arts, bloodlines, transformations, races, summoning, and so on," came Hare Menjou's voice from within Chu Lian's consciousness. "How will you keep them balanced? Will they share any universal systems? Can they combine or evolve together? Could players even research and develop hybrids?" Critical hit ×9.
At this point, Chu Lian grabbed another pillow and stuffed it over the back of her head, completely burying herself beneath both pillows.
"Hahaha! I knew it!" In the system space, Ayase was rolling on the sofa laughing uncontrollably. "You were talking so confidently before, saying you could make it all work. Now look at you! Just one game, and already there are a dozen things to balance and fix. Hurts, doesn't it? Hahaha!"
"Ayase! You're not even trying to comfort me—and now you're joining in on the teasing? Aren't you supposed to be my system big sister?!" Chu Lian's voice was full of grievance. She couldn't divert her focus to enter the system space right now, so she could only shout aloud.
"Why should I comfort you? You brought this upon yourself! I just want to see how you'll patch all these holes you dug. I'll be waiting, hahaha..." Ayase ignored her protests completely, still laughing her heart out.
Buried deep under her pillows, Chu Lian puffed her cheeks in silent frustration. She decided to wait until everyone had finished talking before saying anything more.
"Lian, what about honor?" Inori's eyes gleamed faintly orange—the will of Mana Ouma resonating within her, giving her words a deeper weight. "People are vain by nature. It's not just material satisfaction they crave, but emotional fulfillment too. Medals, titles, legends, and opportunities to create their own epic stories—these might not be as practical as high-tier equipment or skills, but countless players will chase them all the same. After all, life itself revolves around fame and fortune." Critical hit ×10.
"And how will we create our worlds?" Liu Yanran continued, her tone half-teasing yet thoughtful. "Are we going to build everything entirely from scratch? If so, players might lack a sense of purpose. I think we should include major historical events or grand eras to give them that emotional weight. You could also collaborate with existing companies to purchase adaptation rights for famous fictional worlds. Just make sure to avoid sensitive topics or any nation's forbidden histories." As someone who harbored a deep affection for Chu Lian, teasing her like this seemed to be Yanran's idea of affection. Critical hit ×11.
"Lastly, Big Sis," Chu Chu raised her hand with an oddly serious face. "In the game, it's impossible to touch or violate other players without consent—but what about same-sex interactions? How should that be handled?" Her logic was as questionable as ever, but the issue she raised was, admittedly, a legitimate one. Critical hit ×12.
"Sorry, Chu Lian," Li Xiu'er said gently, feeling a twinge of guilt as she watched Chu Lian half-buried in her pillow. "I know this feels harsh, but if we want you to succeed, we have to point these out." She took a breath and added, "Have you considered restrictions on who can play? What about minors, criminals, addicts, or other problematic individuals? Shouldn't there be access limitations?" Critical hit ×13.
"That's enough for now," Cai Ya said, stepping forward. Though the girls had meant well, she could see that Chu Lian was about to mentally collapse under the weight of it all. She sat beside her, gently removing the pillow covering her head. Seeing her listless face, Cai Ya reached out, pinched her cheek lightly, and said softly, "Come on, cheer up. We said we'd help you, didn't we? We'll work on this together. We just want you to be prepared for the challenges ahead."
"I know," Chu Lian replied, her voice faint but steady. "That's why I'm thinking about how to solve these problems. I don't have all the answers yet, but I'll write everything down and work on improvements step by step."
As she spoke, her expression brightened, the determination in her eyes returning. She raised her hand high and shouted, "Girls, look over here! We're about to accomplish something incredible—together!"
"What is it?" The girls exchanged curious glances. Knowing Chu Lian, it was probably something outrageous again—but still, they couldn't help feeling a spark of anticipation.
"That is..."