"Alright, kid, hurry up," Yrk's tone was impatient as he turned around, exposing the metal tag on the back of his collar. Suddenly, he stopped, whipping his head back to glare at Wang Yanfei, his voice low and cold: "No tricks, I'm watching you."
Wang Yanfei's heart tightened, his fingers instinctively clenching. He took a deep breath and slowly approached Yrk, his eyes locking onto the number engraved on the metal plate.
3.
The moment that number entered his sight, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.
If he said the wrong number, Yrk would die.
But if he said the right number... he would die instead.
He didn't want to die. He couldn't die. His sister was still waiting for him. His enemies were still alive and well. He hated—hated with every fiber of his being. How could he die here?
But… killing someone? He had never actually killed anyone before.
He stood frozen, breathing heavily, his heartbeat pounding in his ears, cold sweat sliding down his neck. Yrk was staring at him, brow slightly furrowed. "Kid, did you see it?"
Wang Yanfei opened his mouth but couldn't make a sound. His throat was so dry it felt like sandpaper, like the very air was choking him.
He didn't know what to say.
Should he lie? Or tell the truth?
One second. Two seconds…
The air grew oppressive, like an invisible hand was tightening around his heart.
"…It's 4," he croaked out, his voice rough as if scraped by gravel.
Wang Yanfei's fingers trembled slightly, and his eyes dodged for a moment.
Not right.
His heart was shaken, and he realized what he had just done. He closed his eyes suddenly, took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down, and then said: "No... it's 3."
The suspicion in Yak's eyes deepened a little. He stared at Wang Yanfei, as if he was trying to figure out his emotions, but in the end he didn't say much, just snorted, turned his head and walked into the room.
The door slammed shut, and Wang Yanfei's breathing suddenly became rapid, as if he had just been dragged out of the deep sea. He grabbed the corner of his clothes fiercely, and his knuckles turned white because of the force.
He just... almost killed someone.
But he really didn't want to die...
--------------------
Yak walked into the room, and the door slowly closed behind him. The room suddenly became dim, and only the cold light on the ceiling illuminated a small area. He looked around a little, and there was only a digital recognition device embedded on the wall in front of him. The red light flickered slightly in the dark, like the eyes of the god of death.
Yak then reached out and took off his mechanical eye. A thin data cable was still connected to the eye socket. He held the cold metal eyeball and turned to the nameplate behind his neck.
The red electronic light reflected the number on the collar - 3.
Yak stared at the number, silent for a second, suddenly laughed softly, and then cursed coldly: "Stupid Saint..."
His fists clenched, the mechanical eye trembled slightly in his hands, and he took a deep breath, as if suppressing his surging emotions. But in the end, he couldn't help it, and shouted loudly with anger and ridicule: "Boy, you are such an idiot! Fuck - you fucking..."
The voice suddenly paused, he choked, and suddenly his throat tightened, as if being strangled by something, even he didn't react, a tear fell without warning, hit the cold floor, and turned into a blurred water stain.
He clenched his teeth, his Adam's apple rolled, and his face had a complex and suppressed expression.
Wang Yanfei outside was already in endless fear, his body trembling uncontrollably, his eyes fixed on the door, his heartbeat so fast that it seemed to jump out of his chest, sweat soaking his back, he didn't know what would happen next, he didn't even dare to think about it, he hated himself a little, he should have said 4 at that time, hold on, staying alive is the most important thing.
Just then, a roar came from the room-
"Boy! You live for me!!"
Wang Yanfei trembled violently, his pupils constricted, and his heart seemed to be tightly grasped by someone.
Yak's voice was hoarse and angry, with some indescribable emotions, he gasped, as if he was desperately suppressing some memories: "A good person like you...shouldn't die! ! Fuck the world...fuck the world!!"
He gritted his teeth fiercely, and finally took a deep breath, and angrily smashed the number 4.
Drip-
Wang Yanfei outside the room suddenly widened his eyes.
A second later, a deafening explosion sounded in the room.
---------------------
Congratulations to the newcomer for passing the first game, hahaha, I hope you can always create miracles.
The sound of the radio echoed in the room, with a cold joke, as if mocking an insignificant little character who finally survived. Wang Yanfei stood there in a daze, his head buzzing, and his consciousness seemed to be swept into another space.
The world around him began to become unreal.
The space swayed like the surface of the water, the light and shadow were distorted, everything was frozen, even the echo of the radio was stagnant in the air, as if time had solidified. He suddenly realized that he should still be lying on the cold operating table, being transformed by Dr. Lin. Now all this... is just a dream? Or is it some deeper memory interweaving?
But even so, his heart was still as heavy as if it was pressed by a boulder. He couldn't figure out why Yak laughed so crazily at the last moment?
He always thought that Yak didn't trust him, so he gave up the chance to live. But this reason now looks like a tattered fig leaf with many loopholes.
He frowned and passed through the door.
Behind the door was a broken dream.
He saw Yak, the man standing there, with a crazy smile on his face, but his eyes revealed an unconcealable sadness. The mechanical prosthetic eye drooped slightly, like a broken soul, finally letting go of all disguises.
——The picture began to flow backwards.
The boy killed the company executives and was wanted by the whole city.
He became the prey of the world, was rewarded by the company, was surrounded and forced to flee. He witnessed the ugliest truth of mankind: some people chased him for bounties, some tried to arrest him for so-called justice, and some provided him with temporary shelter out of pity, but everyone's eyes hid something indescribable.
All he saw was decay, and there was no heroic spirit.
But he knew that he would never meet the so-called "hero" because "criminals" would not meet heroes.
The boy grew up on the run and became a middle-aged man.
But he was tired.
Not only his body, but also his soul began to wither. His life was being eaten away bit by bit, his time passed in struggle after struggle, and he was tired of hiding from place to place.
More importantly, he was going to die.
It was a terminal illness, and there was no cure. His body was getting weaker and weaker, and one day, he would die in an unknown corner, turning into a rotting corpse, and being completely forgotten by the world.
So, he made the final decision -
Since he was going to die, he would die in a blazing way.
He broke into the weapon shop and subdued the boss, his eyes were cold, and his bloody prosthetic body almost pierced the boss. He wanted the best weapons, and he wanted to tear apart this decadent world at the last moment like a burning sun.
Just then, an old man appeared.
An old man who looked like he had lived for countless years.
He handed him a gun.
"Why are you helping me?" the middle-aged man asked hoarsely, his fingers holding the gun handle trembling slightly.
The old man did not answer, but patted him on the shoulder gently, sighed, and slowly said:
"Let me tell you a story."
- A hundred years ago, the world was not ruled by companies.
At that time, the World Alliance was established, the country disappeared, and only the Human Alliance remained.
At that time, everyone was equal, and hard work could change fate.
At that time, the son of a hero might not be a hero, and the children in the slums might not be unable to become heroes.
At that time, the world was not perfect, but it still had hope.
The middle-aged man was silent for a long time, and finally sneered, mockingly: "It's just a story, right?"
The old man suddenly cried.
Later, the middle-aged man decided not to flee.
He broke into the company headquarters, one man and one gun, and killed into the enemy camp, as if he was in an empty space.
He tore all the hypocritical smiling faces with the muzzle of the gun, he wrote his last poem with blood, and he used his life to declare that there is still the possibility of resistance in this world.
But in the end, he was arrested.
Two fists cannot beat four hands, guns will overheat, flesh and blood will eventually run out of strength, and after the bullets are used up, the hero can only fall in the dust.
So, he was sent into the game.
One after another, he witnessed how humans tore their bottom line to survive, he witnessed souls being eroded by despair, and he saw through all the greed and madness under disguise.
He won 27 games in total.
In every game, he saw humans struggling in the darkness, revealing their most hateful faces.
Until the last game, he met the boy.
The boy named "Wang Tianran".
——Very stupid, very naive.
He has lived enough.
But this boy has not.
He still has a sister waiting for him, he still has unfinished hatred, and his world has not completely collapsed.
So, Ya Ke laughed in the end.
Not ridicule, not sarcasm, but relief.
He has lived long enough, he has long been tired of this world, but at least... this boy still has a chance.
Wang Yanfei stood at the end of the broken dream, looking at Yak's last smile.
He wanted to reach out and grab something, but everything had dissipated.
Yak took a last look at him and smiled softly.
"Boy, get out."
"Don't let me die too boringly."
He lived, and Yak died.
At this moment, he finally understood why Yak became abnormal at the last moment.
Because he saw hope.
(This article is not well written, my writing skills are not enough, alas)