first player

Chapter 1566 Final Chapter: Guarding the Coastline: "OE: Die from the Ocean (1)"

Hayek believed that any attempt to guide society through central planning is essentially based on a "fatal conceit." A society should not rely on the greatest and wisest individuals to establish order and rules, but rather on countless individuals interacting and following general rules in pursuit of their own goals, thus spontaneously evolving.

[—Hayek, Individualism and Economic Order]

……

First landing.

Su Ming'an chose the time point of "one month later".

When he landed, he was faced with a bronze statue of a god, sculpted in an ancient style, depicting the appearance of a "new god." The unusually youthful face and soft almond-shaped eyes contrasted sharply with the Buddha statue next to it, and the contrast between the ancient and the modern made him feel absurd.

As the candlelight flickered, a child who looked like a novice monk knelt on a prayer mat, staring blankly at the young man who had suddenly appeared.

"You...you are..." the child murmured, "...a deity?"

Su Ming'an raised a finger and gently shushed him.

He wore a seven-colored mask, concealing his face, which was identical to that of the idol. However, only a god could descend in such a form.

The child nodded emphatically, covered his mouth, and indicated that he would not tell anyone.

Su Ming'an wanted to find his companions immediately, but he was more interested in how ordinary people viewed him, so he looked at the child and asked, "Are you my believer?"

...Wasn't he supposed to be the Lord of the Realm? How did he become a god?
“My mother and I, along with all 109 of our children, are your believers.” The child said earnestly, “Half a month ago, a temple master worshipped you as a god. He said that by believing in you, you will have divine power to better protect us.”

Su Ming'an thought for a moment and asked, "Who proposed it?"

Who was it that advocated for him to be sculpted into a deity? Wouldn't that be going down the same old path as the ancient world?
"It is the third tower master of Lu Licarpos."

Su Ming'an's heart clenched.

Although he knew this was likely the best peacekeeping method Lu believed was currently the best, vigilance was growing like a seedling.

"God." Seeing that Su Ming'an wasn't so scary, the child grew bolder, his eyes sparkling like stars: "I've heard that you have hair that fades from black to purple to white, that when you smile you bring down sweet rain, when you're angry you're like thunder, and when you're sad you your tears are like gold and pearls..."

Su Ming'an: "..."

How come this thing has been passed down?

He vanished from the spot in a flash.

The child looked around and slowly hugged himself... He used to be terrified of this dark room, but now he knew that God was watching him and he didn't need to be afraid.

……

Su Ming'an walked stealthily through the streets.

He noticed that people weren't smiling as much as he had expected, so he slowed down and listened quietly.

"...Did you watch yesterday's trial?" In the park, two middle-aged men were playing chess and talking. "Those tower masters actually didn't execute Aland, a war criminal from the World Game. Even though he defected to the higher dimensions, the reason for not executing him was that Aland, as a top player, made a significant contribution to the human points progress bar."

"Pah!" The middle-aged man with thinning hair spat. "People like Ailand were traitors in the past! Big traitors! They would have been shot!"

"The document says that it is because Aland still has contact with the higher dimensions, so the tower masters need to spare his life."

The middle-aged man grew increasingly agitated as he played chess, finally slamming his fist on the table and shouting, "With our nuclear bombs, space satellites, and super missiles, can't we deal with an alien? Anyone who offends our Great Zhai will be punished, no matter how far away! How can we listen to a traitor! Every man of our Great Zhai is ready to take up arms and go to the battlefield!"

"Uh...you didn't participate in the World Game, so even if you have the memories, you probably can't understand them..."

As Su Ming'an passed by the pavilion, beside the running track in the park, he overheard a young couple whispering to each other.

"Ha! If I had participated in the World Game, those 'Celestial Dragons' wouldn't have stood a chance. Why is it that with only one in seven chance of good luck, they're already a head above us?" The woman complained as she scrolled through short videos.

Her phone was filled with highlights of various players' high-energy moments during the game, which were exhilarating to watch. Most of the comments expressed praise for the heroes, but there were also a few discordant voices.

"Be careful what you say, they are heroes after all." The man waved his hand.

The woman pried his hands off, her face full of resentment, and said, "What I hate isn't those real heroes, but those slacker players. They've been on vacation for half a year, all they do is watch live streams and type on their keyboards. Why is their contribution score higher than ours more than twenty days ago? Just because we weren't selected for the game. Old Liu next door used to be a hoodlum, but after killing a few people in the game, he's doing better than us now."

"Sigh... The world is inherently unfair. Compared to the huge gap between rich and poor at birth, the Tower Masters' arrangements for the world game settlement contribution are already considered fair. After all, we did nothing, yet we still received some resource compensation... I vaguely heard that the purpose of that [contribution settlement] was not to reward heroes, but to narrow the gap. All countries have done their best."

"Damn it, is luck a contribution? That's infuriating."

"Think about the Akto era, when it was still a world war, we were already doing very well."

"I'm just a little unwilling, but I don't resent the tower masters..."

Su Ming'an walked to the park entrance, where some machines were selling candied hawthorn, roasted sweet potatoes, and roasted corn.

The world here is highly developed, but this high technology has also brought problems—sweet potato vendors have been replaced by machines. Where have the original vendors gone?

Su Ming'an continued walking and saw a mother and child sitting on a bench nearby.

They looked melancholy and were in low spirits.

"Mom, I really can't find a job..." the son said dejectedly. "All the jobs prioritize players. Nobody wants an ordinary person like me with average education."

"Isn't the law prohibiting it? Are we not allowed to differentiate between players and ordinary people when hiring?" The mother frowned.

“They say it’s an order to prohibit it, but which company will actually follow it? There used to be an eight-hour workday, but which company followed that? The civil engineering company I used to work in was full of unspoken rules, bribes, foot massages, and favoritism. Everyone in the company had the same surname, and not a single new employee got in without a relative giving them a bribe. The interviews were just for show for outsiders with no connections… What’s the point?” The son shook his head and said, “They say it’s a ‘double-blind’ interview, but they can tell your spirit and energy just by looking at you. Ordinary people are just not as good as players; no matter how good their manners are, it’s useless.”

“Sigh… there will always be law-abiding companies. This is just the beginning. The ‘Ming’an System’ is already monitoring us and says they’ll arrange jobs for people. Just bear with it a little longer.” The mother couldn’t help but say, “Compared to our generation, you are much luckier now. Young people should be able to endure more hardship.”

"Suffering, suffering, suffering at birth, suffering in junior high, suffering in high school, suffering during postgraduate entrance exams, suffering when looking for a job, suffering through all the shady profits of the times, and even the world's games can't reach my level..." The son scratched his hair and roared, "When will this suffering end!"

"Why was I one of the top three out of more than fifty people in my class? I studied hard for twelve years, and I was supposed to be your and Dad's pride, but in the end I can't even find a job that pays four thousand yuan!"

"Could there be a red 'one-click death' button so I can press it?"

The son roared in anger, while the mother silently shed tears.

Their figures were inconspicuous among the many hurried people.

The two figures on the white bench were like two drops of water about to melt, dissolving into the vast world.

Su Ming watched quietly. He knew that there would be many problems in the early stages of change, and the growing pains of the times were unavoidable. Of course, he could offer the poor young man a job, but that would only further breed privilege.

In a daze, he seemed to have returned to the position of a god in the old world.

“…If all else fails, let’s just ‘go to the tower’.” The mother took a deep breath.

She took out her old phone and tapped the screen with her finger: "Look, there are 256 towers currently in operation, and there are millions of smaller towers built around the main tower. Our city has two of them, one in the East District and one in the Dajiang District."

The son leaned over to take a look.

……

[Position: Clerk, Information Department, East City Tower]

[Job Responsibilities: Organize dungeon information and summarize materials for the game world.]

Educational requirement: Bachelor's degree

Number of people needed: 2

[Number of registered participants: 29181]

……

son:"……"

The son covered his mother's phone and sighed.

But her mother kept urging, "How about it? You can do multiple things at once: take the entrance exam, the postgraduate entrance exam, the job exam, and the certification exam... Oh, I heard the neighborhood is hiring garbage collectors, and only undergraduates can do it. You could go there too..."

The son immediately turned off his phone, shook his head, and said, "Mom, don't think so much. I have a better way out. I heard that the 'Ming'an System' collaborated with the twelfth Spirit Dream Envoy to develop the power system of the World Game. Once the situation stabilizes, they will release the skill books and player system of the World Game appropriately. At that time, even people like us who didn't participate in the World Game can turn the tables."

The mother looked panicked: "How can this be? Isn't this like giving everyone a gun?"

The son rubbed his hands together: "Mom, the world is different now. As the computing power of the 'Ming'an System' is gradually unleashed, just like the Dawn System in the Ruins World, the Heavenly Eye will monitor everyone. Even if there is crime, it won't be too rampant. However, the world is indeed more dangerous."

He sighed, raised his eyes, and looked at the gray-blue sky in the distance: "But, rather than spending my whole life being a coward and subservient person, I would rather this world be a little more dangerous."

Su Ming'an passed by the grieving mother and child.

"...It's still too risky." His mother shook her head disapprovingly: "Son, take advantage of this time to read more books and go to the 'All-Tower Examination Tour.' What if you pass the exam? It's better to be safe and secure than to rely on your own cultivation to advance."

"In this world, stability is always the best..."

Their voices gradually faded into the distance.

Along the way, Su Ming'an did not rush forward, but slowed down his pace and breathed slowly, and heard many, many sounds.

These are sounds he couldn't hear from where he was standing.

Perhaps it's called "noise," or perhaps it's called "the voice of the people."

"...If only I had worked harder during the World Game, I would have earned more contribution points and could be living in a big house now."

"...I really should have chosen to become an adventurer. With a little effort, the contribution would be quite significant. Only the exceptionally skilled casual players achieve high contribution rates."

"...Luckily, the world game is over, otherwise my mother would have gone crazy. Thank you to the top players on the leaderboard, thank you to the number one player."

"...Am I the only one who wants the world to end? I don't want to go to school anymore..."

"...Once the billionth time arrives, we'll all be wiped out. Do you really think this year-long vacation will never end? It's already amazing that humanity can survive. Do you really think this is a game? Think about how many martyrs gave you the opportunity to go to school."

"...Too many people still died, my sister, she didn't come back from the dungeon..."

"...At least, this is a victory for us, a victory against the gods and higher dimensions. Thanks to the First Player's lies and bet, we have been given the chance to see the light again..."

……

The room, bathed in sunlight, is furnished with vintage wooden furniture.

Lu Shu sat at the mahogany table, browsing the documents displayed on the computer.

He used to know nothing about these things, but he knew that if he wanted to take care of the world, he couldn't be ignorant of them, otherwise one day, those with ulterior motives would use lies to deceive him, someone who didn't understand.

During his breaks, he would pet the white cat sleeping on the table, its fluffy body resting by the window, its edges gleaming in the sunlight.

The calendar on the wall has thirty red circles drawn on it, starting on the day Su Ming'an left.

"Tap." A footstep sounded.

Lu Shu seemed to have a premonition and raised his head. He didn't need to look to know that the only person who could enter the room so silently was that person.

—Under the clear sunlight, a masked young man pushed open the window and entered, his dyed black hair fluttering in the wind, and a faint sandalwood scent emanating from him, as if he had just stepped out of an ancestral hall.

The mask grew thicker, revealing a clown-like, bright smile, silent and frozen.

"Welcome back." Lu Shu's voice was a little hoarse.

They had always suspected that Su Ming'an was lying, perhaps his life was nearing its end, and he was only saying he was going to jump through time to comfort them. Su Ming'an wasn't incapable of such a thing; after all, he was a world-renowned liar. His lies had deceived higher dimensions, the organizers, and even most of humanity in the world game. His lies had won back this world.

Fortunately, he waited for that person.

"You're..." Su Ming'an was surprised for a moment, then looked at Lu Shu's keyboard: "Writing official documents?"

Lu Shu nodded: "I will live a long life, so I must learn these things." He gritted his teeth and lowered his head: "I'm not good with words, nor am I good at writing essays. To prevent those scheming people from fooling me and repeating the tragedy of my parents, I must learn these things... Back then, my parents were killed in a fire because they were focused on practicing martial arts and not good at political maneuvering. They didn't even know who killed them until their deaths..."

He originally wanted to be a pure swordsman, living to chase the light and dying for those who understand him.

However, the times do not have room for a pure person.

He could pick up the knife, but he also had to be able to put it down.

In times of war, people need swords and fire. But there will come a time when people need pens and cameras.

Su Ming'an looked at the document on the screen. It was clear that Lü Shu had been practicing very hard. Having never handled official documents before, Lü Shu's writing was somewhat... somewhat...

It tastes somewhat like the tea that Su Lin brews.

“You’re good at writing short essays, you’ll learn quickly, don’t worry,” Su Ming’an reassured him.

Lu Shu quickly realized which "short essay" Su Ming'an was referring to. It was... a short forum essay he wrote praising the number one player at the very beginning of the World Game.

That short essay was written before he had a deep understanding of Su Ming'an, and it was a product of being influenced by the Lighthouse Theory. It was his sincere work at the time, but now it seems full of flaws.

“I will rewrite a book for you,” Lü Shu said immediately. “As your companion, I will record my thoughts and feelings about you during the entire World Game… The world needs such a book. People already know your achievements and your great reputation, but they have never stood at close range to know how insignificant you were.”

Just as heroes need history books and legends, they also need autobiographies and memoirs.

Since Su Ming'an doesn't have time to write, let him do it.

"When you have time. Don't forget to write one for yourself too; you're a hero too." Su Ming'an smiled; he saw Lu Shu's motivation.

He walked outside.

A slight tug came from behind, but the force quickly loosened, as if realizing it shouldn't have held on.

Su Ming'an turned around: "What's wrong?"

Lu Shu's hand froze in mid-air before he quickly withdrew it and placed it under the desk: "Are you leaving again? How long will you be gone?"

“No, I’ll go and inquire about some policies at Su Bread, then stay here for a while before going back,” Su Ming’an said. “I’ve noticed things are going a bit off course, and I’ll handle that before I leave.”

“Then…” Lu Shu opened his mouth, but swallowed the rest of his words.

...We promised to travel together once the world game is over. When will we be able to keep that promise?
Are they being too greedy? They've already fulfilled their promise to "go home together," yet they still want to fulfill their promise to "travel together"...

No, the former also failed to materialize; Lin Yin, Boris, Qin Si... none of them have been able to return yet.

For a moment, Lü Shu felt that everything he was experiencing was like a predetermined tragedy, sliding resolutely towards a hopeless direction, resolute yet unstoppable. The next moment, this feeling quickly vanished.

He gazed at Su Ming'an as he walked away, the setting sun shining through the glass onto him, making him look like a bronze statue gleaming with gold.

The golden tiles beneath my feet resemble a radiant, distant path strewn with golden leaves.

Lu Shu leaned against the wall to stand up, his fingers brushing against the calendar covered in red circles. He glanced at it, picked up a pen, and wrote a mark on the thirty-first day. Lu Shu was used to recording things with tally marks; this mark represented Su Ming'an's first return.

He stroked the mark, and for a moment, he thought he was stroking a tree trunk.

—It was as if the tree trunk was engraved with thousands of scratches.

……