The next day, Ren Yifei went to work with dark circles under his eyes. His family thought he hadn't been able to rest well because of He Jun's matter, and comforted him that the matter had been resolved.
Ren Yifei agreed, still thinking about what that person had said yesterday.
They actually dragged the child into an infinite world; it's so low-class it makes even the desolate corner look beautiful.
So he couldn't sleep at all in the latter half of the night, and got up to go to some illegal exchange website for Zhang San. As someone who had once been involved in borderline illegal activities, Ren Yifei quickly found the group's headquarters, even though he was new to the site.
He had nothing else to do but spend money to investigate people, specifically 'He Jun'.
Urgent request, results needed within 24 hours, fixed price of one million, deposit of three hundred thousand upfront.
The "Brother Xing" that He Jun mentioned is either the game's agent (i.e., the ghost) or another incarnation of the game. Whichever it is, beat him to death and be done with it.
They have no bottom line and are just like the villain system.
At the same time, he spent three million to have a mobile phone virus created, which was then spread among elementary school students and the elderly in the form of 'invitation codes'.
Ren Yifei showed how players of mini-games could trick family, relatives, and strangers, and how they could trick netizens.
If they don't click, it's fine; if they do, their phones will be ruined. Let's see if they dare to click on unfamiliar invitation codes again.
When he woke up, his friend sent him the good news: overnight, they had reportedly destroyed tens of thousands of groups, including family groups, online game groups, and groups for people with similar interests...
Ren Yifei was quite satisfied, but still felt it wasn't enough. He hoped the other party would continue their efforts and break through more elementary school student groups: What are kids doing with social media? Go study!
The hacker group that had been battling all night: As long as the money is there, whatever the client says is right.
In just one night, millions of dollars were spent, but the results were still unclear.
With this matter on his mind, Ren Yifei wore a 'don't mess with me' expression all day. Even his assistant, Xiao Wei, was quick to minimize his presence, not to mention his secretaries, who were most adept at reading people's expressions.
In his undisturbed office, Ren Yifei spent the entire day watching the news channel with a cold expression.
It was only after that player's reminder yesterday that he realized the power of the world's official authorities.
Although there is no evidence that the official team was aware of the existence of this mini-game, it is certain that the official team took some action.
Whether it's cracking down on pirated websites, shutting down illegal websites, or strengthening internet management and education, all of these actions demonstrate that they have sensed this hidden and dangerous force.
In the absence of a clear culprit, reducing the likelihood of unsuspecting members of the public being exposed is also a strategy. His spreading of mobile phone viruses is, in a sense, like giving everyone a vaccine.
"Is there any way to contact the authorities?" Ren Yifei suddenly had a thought.
The power behind the scenes in this endless flow game is too strong; it's obvious he can't take it down alone. The Wasteland Corner doesn't even offer any benefits, showing no consideration for its own players. After much thought, he realized he couldn't handle it alone, so he'd find someone who could.
Doesn't that mean it can only be a collective force in power?
"The state is an organized and systematic machine of violence of the ruling class." Political books have long told him who the greatest power is.
However, the rule that the mini-game doesn't allow disclosure is a Damocles' sword hanging over the players' heads. Therefore, figuring out how to circumvent this rule and subtly reveal information becomes crucial.
At this time, the creative documents sent by the advertising department gave him great inspiration.
This year, the advertising department invited several top-tier online novelists to create customized novels based on their products, promoting a recently launched fashion sub-brand among young people.
"Very insightful. I heard those authors are all here?"
Assistant Xiao Wei, puzzled, asked, "Since everyone's here, do you... want to see them?"
"Um."
Assistant Xiao Wei left looking completely bewildered. If he didn't know that his boss was a workaholic who didn't care about family or friends, he would have suspected that his boss was a fan of some book.
A little while later, two authors arrived, one writing in the male-oriented genre and the other in the female-oriented genre, with different themes but the same product placement.
"I want to commission two stories. I'll finish the outline today and publish the stories tomorrow, three updates a day."
The two online novel authors looked at each other and hesitated, saying, "Isn't it a bit rushed to publish the manuscript tomorrow? Besides, even online novels have their strengths and weaknesses, and whether they can write them or not."
It's clear that these two online novel masters are the type who like to meticulously refine their outlines and have preferred themes. Unfortunately, Ren Yifei doesn't have that much time.
"One million words, three million RMB. I'll pay a 30% deposit first." Ren Yifei used money as a pretext.
"Deal." Without saying a word, the top male author reached out his hand to shake hands.
Too much time? Not good at the subject matter? Not at all. He earns three yuan per word and can write until his patron goes bankrupt.
"Ahem." The top female author was a little more reserved. "We're not doing this for the money; we mainly want to try out more styles."
Tell me, what do you want to write? She can write sweet romance stories, or she can write stories about scumbags and villains.
She can even write BL and GL novels if the boss wants to read them!
One million is just the customization fee; subsequent income is not included. Apart from a few high-paid executives with annual salaries of one million, most people cannot resist such a temptation, nor can they.
"What kind of custom-made story do you want?" The two top online novelists looked at their sugar daddy with enthusiasm.
Three million! Even if this sugar daddy has a peculiar fetish and likes to be cuckolded and a masochist, they'll still write it!
"Let me make this clear first, this is just a story, a fictional story. Any resemblance to actual events or persons is purely coincidental."
The two online novel authors nodded.
Ren Yifei clasped his hands together, a small talisman in his palm: "Have you ever heard of... Infinite Terror?"
Ren Yifei didn't go home that day; he truly treated the company as his home—he was going to sleep at the company that night.
When the boss leads the way in working 007, the employees below immediately feel uneasy: the boss has sports cars and mansions, while they have a "sudden death package" (meaning they're on the job).
Fortunately, Ren Yifei wasn't that heartless. He allowed the employees to come and go as usual. He stayed behind because of personal matters, not because of work.
Assistant Xiao Wei went back to the villa, brought back a change of clothes, and also some delicious soup made by the kitchen staff.
Ren Yifei's family interpreted his actions today as a sign of unease, given the recent death last night. Even the old patriarch of the Zhong family stayed out today. As people get older, they become more sensitive to matters of death.
"That villa might need to be dealt with," Assistant Xiao Wei thought to himself.
Ren Yifei was unaware of what others were thinking; he lived at the company premises simply for peace and quiet. Right now, he was frantically studying color matching from a book on color theory.
As a group whose main business is jewelry, the design department has all kinds of books. He picked up two of them on the way and quickly flipped through them.
At 9:30, he boarded the train on time. This time, the carriage was different again; the walls were covered with bloody handprints, and there were many exposed, rusty iron objects.
The entire carriage even smelled of rust, though it was unclear whether it was from blood or rust.
Including him, there were twelve people sitting in the carriage, all with somber and serious expressions. Most of them were young and middle-aged people in their thirties, with only one being a middle-aged or elderly person in his fifties.
This game requires both knowledge and physical strength, and most people in the elderly and children's age groups are 'eliminated'.
This little game is played once a day, and the elimination rate is astonishing. It's far more insane and unrestrained than Wasteland. I have no idea what it's doing all this for; is it some kind of breeding ground for monsters?
Is it still using games to package itself, but ultimately it's all about devouring human souls?
Ren Yifei didn't speak either. To put it nicely, these people were competitors; to put it bluntly, they were enemies vying for the right to survive.
When no one was speaking, time seemed to drag on. Ren Yifei watched the second hand go round and round, but it never seemed to finish five minutes.
"Is any of you majoring in painting?" Suddenly someone spoke up. It was the middle-aged man in his early fifties, with graying temples and a serious look. He was the 'Grandpa X' who would scare the neighbor's kids to tears.
The train was quiet, and still no one responded.
This person didn't mind: "I studied traditional Chinese painting when I was young, and I also have some knowledge of Western oil painting. Now I am an art teacher."
"We are all players, we all have families and loved ones, so we are naturally on the same side. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me."
Ren Yifei glanced up at the middle-aged man's hands. People who make a living with their skills tend to cherish their hands, and this man's hands were no exception.
Regardless of whether he has studied traditional Chinese painting or oil painting, the things he said on the train today are enough to make people feel good about him—assuming that what he said is true.
Sure enough, someone responded to him: "The hint is about color language. I wonder how you art students interpret it?"
The middle-aged man listened carefully, nodded seriously, and miraculously took out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. When he unfolded it, it was a color ring.
The center of this paper is white, followed by a ring of brighter red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple, then a normal color ring, and finally an outermost ring of less bright color rings.
In case they couldn't see it clearly, I wrote it with a thick pen: the higher the brightness, the warmer the color; the lower the brightness, the cooler the color.
They actually carry a color wheel around with them? Is this their way of giving a science lesson?
Ren Yifei suddenly believed that this person was an art teacher and had good intentions.
"You've probably all looked up books on primary colors, secondary colors, and complementary colors, so you probably have a general idea. Now let's talk about warm and cool colors and neutral colors." The middle-aged man pressed a laser pointer on his keychain, and a small dot appeared on the color wheel.
"Colors that evoke a sense of coolness and solitude are what we usually call cool colors: green, the color of a forest, blue, the color of the sea, black, the color of the night..."
As he spoke, he took out another piece of paper from his pocket, shook it, and unfolded it. It contained three printed drawings: a sunflower, a sea, a forest, and a street scene at dusk.
In that instant, the middle-aged man's demeanor changed, becoming even more sharp and aggressive.
It's the kind of "teacher" aura that sends chills down the spines of underachievers.
The others who had initially been indifferent now perked up their ears and began to listen attentively. Even Ren Yifei, who only knew a little bit, became serious.
Because of time constraints, the middle-aged man spoke very quickly, but his pronunciation was clear, and his sentences were fluent and smooth, without any ambiguity.
He was like a teacher in the senior year of high school who wanted to cram all the essence into the students' heads, extracting the key points, turning them into tunes and stories, just wanting to pour the knowledge in his head into the students' heads.
The middle-aged person not only explained the basic warm and cool colors with examples, but also talked about what colors can create a sense of chaos, what colors are more harmonious, what colors are impactful, and what colors appear calm.
He looked calmly at the people in the carriage, as if this were not a terrifying world where there was no chance of return, but a very ordinary classroom.
Soon, it was almost ten o'clock. The middle-aged man looked at his watch and stopped explaining.
The other passengers on the train realized what was happening. They sat up straight, still terrified, but not entirely desperate.
"The time is approaching. I hope everyone can remain calm and face this challenge in life with the best attitude. The darkness will eventually pass. Until then, please take good care of yourselves and watch over each other."
Inside this dimly lit, rusty, dilapidated train, this serious and somewhat intimidating middle-aged man stood in a corner.
He looked ordinary, like any other elderly man taking a stroll downstairs, but at that moment, his words of blessing and encouraging gaze shone like a small candle in the darkness.
"He really is a teacher," Ren Yifei thought to himself.