Anyone who has experienced heatstroke knows how unbearable it can be, let alone heat exhaustion. Zhang Chenyan was in extreme discomfort, suffering from what is professionally known as delirium—a terribly unpleasant mental state. He felt drowsy, the lethargy mixed with dizziness and nausea. It was as if his entire body was being roasted over a slow fire, the flames licking at him, causing pain without giving him any release.
"Doctor, doctor... over here," the girl's voice echoed again, filled with anxiety and unease. Zhang Chenyan knew that she was trying to save him, but when he saw his clone standing before him, he realized that any attempt at treatment was already meaningless.
"Heatstroke has a high mortality rate," the clone said calmly.
Zhang Chenyan wanted to respond, but the pain in his body made it difficult to even form words. He could only utter vague, indistinct sounds.
"You're wondering if I'm really Zhang Chenyan 2.0?" the clone asked, as if reading his mind, and then mocked, "To be honest, that name is terrible. It's the most boring name I've ever heard."
Zhang Chenyan wanted to agree, but... forget it, 2.0 or whatever, it's easy to differentiate.
"I am him, or rather... there are many of him," the clone admitted readily, then added something even more cryptic, "There are countless versions of him. We are all him. We are all you."
Zhang Chenyan wanted to refute this, to tell the clone that they could never be him, that he was unique, as is every human being, but he couldn't say anything. He could no longer control his body; the unbearable sensation had spread throughout his entire being.
"By the way, are you curious about what happened to them?" the clone asked, clearly enjoying the moment. "If you want to know, I can tell you."
Zhang Chenyan wasn't curious about his own fate because he had already foreseen his role in this story. But he couldn't completely disregard the fate of the old man and his granddaughter, even if he knew they might just be data, like NPCs in a game. After all, he had interacted with them; they had saved... or at least tried to save his life.
The clone didn't beat around the bush and directly revealed the outcome: "The girl was born when the greenhouse effect was already out of control. She was born into this environment, so her body could handle the heat better. But her grandfather wasn't so lucky. A year after you 'die,' he succumbs to cardiovascular disease due to the intense heat."
Recalling the kind old man, Zhang Chenyan felt a mix of emotions. He knew there was nothing he could do because this world wasn't his own. He wasn't a time traveler—that was just a lie he told to a child. Relative to the time in the game, he did come from the future, but that didn't mean he had the power to change the past.
"This world, people here have a high standard of living, advanced technology. They're practically risking their lives to extract from nature. They keep plundering; this city-state robs that city-state, this country robs that country. And what do they do with the stolen resources? They use them to further develop and grow stronger," the clone said with a sneer. "They think that whatever they grab from someone else is their gain, that what's yours is now mine. But they never realize that, in the end, what they're all grabbing is shared by humanity as a whole. There is no 'yours' or 'mine,' only a collective descent into ruin."
Zhang Chenyan understood what the clone was implying. He knew what the clone was trying to say, but what could he do?
Even the most powerful person couldn't change the past.
And even if he did live in the past, what could he change? An individual's power is insignificant; this isn't a matter of personal heroism. Humanity is a community with a shared destiny, and they must come together to reach a consensus.
But how easy is it to achieve consensus?
It's like a contract that everyone must sign, but if one person breaks the contract, everyone else suffers a "loss." By human nature, no one wants to accept a loss; everyone wants to gain an advantage, everyone wants to take more…
Trust? Building trust is incredibly difficult.
But destroying trust can happen in an instant.
Therefore, a contract based on trust is destined to be an idealistic fantasy for only a small group of people.
"If that old man's family had been better off, he could have survived," the clone continued. "But think about it. What good would it have done? Spending exorbitant amounts on organ transplants or medical care only to continue enduring this environment?"
Zhang Chenyan didn't know how to respond, or perhaps this was a question without an answer.
"Oh, let me tell you a secret," the clone said, leaning in closer. "Not everyone in this world lives like this. Some live in cool places, enjoying the comfort of the shade... and then they produce more waste, further destroying the environment."
Zhang Chenyan understood what the clone meant. He also knew that the clone was just trying to make him a spectator. In fact, the clone wasn't saying all this to get a response from him. His reaction was just a source of amusement, with no real significance.
The clone wanted him to watch, or rather, something wanted him to watch.
But the problem was, Zhang Chenyan didn't want to keep watching.
He wanted to exit this game. This wasn't "Elysium"; this was a journey of pain, a path to destruction!
However, he then realized that the "logout" button, which was usually there, had disappeared at some point.
In other words, he couldn't leave the game of his own will.
He was stripped of the option to say "I give up."
Perhaps sensing his thoughts, the clone burst out laughing. "Hey, don't be so down! Don't you humans always talk about never giving up? Come on, here's your chance."
Then, before Zhang Chenyan could react, a bright light appeared before his eyes, so intense that he instinctively closed his eyes and raised his hand to shield himself.
"You're awake," a calm, emotionless voice said. But to Zhang Chenyan, it sounded like music to his ears.
"0810?" Zhang Chenyan's joy was unmistakable.
Although he still hadn't fully adjusted to the bright light around him, the sound and his intuition confirmed that the person standing before him was indeed 0810.
"You can put your hand down now. Don't you want to open your eyes and take a look?" 0810 asked.
Although Zhang Chenyan didn't know what 0810 wanted him to see, he slowly lowered his arm, allowing his eyes to gradually adjust to the light.
Then, he saw his clone.
Whether it was Zhang Chenyan 2.0, Zhang Chenyan N, or whatever—the person standing before him now looked exactly like him.
This wasn't the scenario Zhang Chenyan had expected. He was used to 0810's cold demeanor, but that didn't mean he was prepared to be woken up just to see this.
"Why look at a fake when you have the original?" Zhang Chenyan joked in a vain attempt to lighten the mood.
Even as he spoke, he felt the words were bland and unamusing.
As expected, his humor fell flat. He was far from mastering the art of social interaction.
"Do you like it?" 0810 asked.
"What? Do I like what?" Zhang Chenyan was puzzled.
Unexpectedly, 0810 turned to the clone and repeated the question, "Do you like it?"
Now, Zhang Chenyan finally understood. It turned out 0810 had been asking the clone all along, not him.
"I don't like it," the clone replied with a chilling smile. "This body is terrible. The face could use some improvement."
"That's a personal attack, isn't it?" Zhang Chenyan felt exasperated. "You're a knockoff of me, a counterfeit, and you have the nerve to criticize the original? How does that make sense?"
"So, you're not satisfied with this clone?" 0810 asked, this time addressing Zhang Chenyan directly.
"Of course not. I'm very dissatisfied. Not even as good as Zhang Chenyan 2.0. At least he was… no, forget it, he was awful too," Zhang Chenyan said, growing increasingly frustrated. "These clones are all bad news. The further away they stay from me, the better."
He could sense that this clone wasn't Zhang Chenyan 2.0, nor was it the clone he'd interacted with in previous scenarios. This was a new clone.
Zhang Chenyan felt a pang of despair. How many clones did he have?
Earlier, he had inquired with the staff investigating this issue, who told him that typically, a person has at most one clone. So why was his case different?
Many people wish to be special, but he could guarantee this was not the way he wanted to stand out.
"Actually, I quite like his personality," 0810 said suddenly.
Zhang Chenyan looked at the cold expression on the clone's face. It was the first time he had objectively observed what his own cold face looked like.
He had to admit, it was rather handsome.
"You like him because he's like you, don't you?" Zhang Chenyan pointed out bluntly. "You like him because his personality is just like yours."
"Businesslike, to the point, objective, and precise—what's not to like?" 0810 asked calmly.
Zhang Chenyan didn't bother responding. There was no definitive answer to that question.
What's considered good varies from person to person.
He didn't think he could convince 0810, nor did he believe 0810 could convince him.
Seeing that Zhang Chenyan had turned his head away in a clear gesture of non-cooperation, 0810 clapped her hands. Immediately, a group of figures in black cloaks with hoods entered the room.
"Take a look at these. Surely there's one you'll like," 0810 whispered to Zhang Chenyan before stepping aside to allow the hooded figures to reveal themselves.
Zhang Chenyan swore he had never seen anything more absurd.
He saw hundreds, thousands of versions of himself, standing densely packed in the space, all staring directly at him. Some had cold expressions, others were fiery, some looked sorrowful, and others seemed joyful...
In short, there was a wide variety.
After what felt like an eternity, Zhang Chenyan finally found his voice. "What… what do you want?"
"Choose one, the one you like," 0810 said, still in that businesslike tone.
Zhang Chenyan nearly laughed out loud. No wonder he hadn't woken up with lingering pain from the previous scenario, no wonder he had been allowed to see the ever-important 0810… He had thought it was a good thing, but now he realized there was a bigger "surprise" waiting for him.
So, he thought, the reason he didn't have to endure more suffering was that they were planning to replace him, right?
"I don't like any of them," Zhang Chenyan declared firmly. "I like myself!"
0810 seemed to have anticipated this response and said calmly, "You have to choose one. The best I can do for you is to let you pick the one you prefer. This is the greatest leniency I can offer within my authority."
"Should I say thank you?" Zhang Chenyan retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He had never spoken to 0810 like this before. If he weren't so angry, he wouldn't have dared.
"You don't need to thank me. After all, we've been colleagues for so many years," 0810 replied, just as calmly.
"Did you really think I was saying thank you?" As the saying goes, once you start, it gets easier. Even lashing out at 0810 became easier for Zhang Chenyan, and he felt his confidence rising.
"What do you mean, then?" 0810 continued, her patience unwavering. "You don't plan to choose? Are you going to leave it to me or the system to decide?"
"Like hell I will!" Zhang Chenyan felt a surge of fear. He couldn't accept dying like this, so passively. "And after you make your decision, what then? Keep that counterfeit and dispose of the original me? You're out of your mind!"
"I'm not crazy. This is necessary." For some reason, Zhang Chenyan thought he saw a hint of sadness in 0810's eyes as she said this.
"I'm telling you, no one can make that decision!" Zhang Chenyan declared with righteous indignation. "I am me, and nothing can replace me—nothing!"