Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes

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Currently, the maximum number of new players that can be invited in the game "Subway" is 3.

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List:

Kosuke Iwasaki (Talented Type): 83 points

Rei Mizuno (Cautious Type): 66 points

Takashi Otomo (Hamster type): 60 points

Is this still a choice?

Shinichi Higashiyama was the first to send an invitation, and then refreshed the second round.

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[Nanjo Kazuyuki (Normal Type): 68 points]

Mizuki Kawasaki (Seeker): 61 points

Mezuki Ito (self-entertainment type): 60 points

Dongshan Shen frowned as he looked at the scores. What kind of rubbish were these?

How come there isn't a single player with a score above 80?

Now, Shinichi Higashiyama has two choices: either go all in on the last round of refreshes, or choose the best among the worst.

But don't forget, players have the right to refuse.

If no one is chosen in this round, then if two players refuse in the next round, it means that one spot will be vacant.

Kosuke Iwasaki accepted the invitation.

"The quality of players is more important. If they are not talented, then inviting more players is just a waste of their lives, my quota, and rewards. They won't even get the extra points. It's completely unnecessary. So, players should be of high quality rather than many."

This is not a gambler's mentality, but a rational analysis.

At least one player with a score of 80 or higher has joined, which is a safety net.

Shinichi Higashiyama knew very well that this game was extremely demanding for ordinary people. If it were given to players who had little gaming experience and couldn't keep up with the game's mechanics, it would only cause them to waste their lifespan.

If they are afraid and don't play, it's the same as wasting a spot, which is no different from getting a bye.

Decided.

Higashiyama Shin pressed refresh.

Chapter 30: Iwasaki Kosuke

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List:

Araki Bon (Seeker): 85 points

Uesugi Hitomi (Calm Type): 80 points

Nobi Tomoyoshi (Focused Type): 77 points

The quality was quite good this time, but the last name surprised him a bit; it shouldn't be a duplicate name.

Without hesitation, Higashiyama Shin, purely focused on grades, extended invitations to the first two.

As for Nobi Tomoyoshi, who was in the same class as him, he wouldn't consider it unless someone declined the invitation, not to mention that his overall score was lower than others.

As he was thinking, he received a new message.

Araki declined the invitation.

"."

At this moment, in a darkened bedroom somewhere in Tokyo.

A young man locked his bedroom door from the inside, sat carefully in front of his computer, placed tissues on the desktop, and the screen's glow reflected his increasingly impatient face. With the sound of the mouse clicking, he was canceling one placeholder advertisement after another.

"Will these annoying ads ever end? [Click], close, no, refuse, disagree"

"Hmm? Did I just skip something?"

"Never mind, IPZZ-367."

Despite Dongshan's silence, some people still refused the invitation, seemingly without a moment's hesitation.

His gaze fell on Nobi Tomohiro's name, and after a few seconds of silence, he finally clicked the button.

Next, although he wouldn't continue playing the game tonight, he could observe the other players' gameplay from a follower's perspective while he slept, hoping to make some new discoveries. He could then combine this with his own gameplay, since he couldn't rely entirely on them; his own efforts were the most reliable.

I glanced at the time before going to bed; it was 12:30.

Uesugi Hitomi accepted the invitation.

Nobi Tomoyoshi accepted the invitation.

Very well, now let's show him the strength of these three players.

"Mr. Iwasaki, it's time to go to bed."

".good."

Inside a modest sanatorium, Kosuke Iwasaki, sitting in a wheelchair, calmly allowed a caregiver to push him back to his room.

The caregiver didn't look strong; in fact, he was rather thin. Yet, he managed to carefully move Iwasaki Kosuke, who could only turn his neck, onto the bed all by himself, bit by bit.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, changed his diaper into a new adult diaper, checked his temperature, and covered him with a thin blanket.

Iwasaki watched quietly as the caregiver busied herself, and the cross pendant that had slipped from her chest shone with a silvery-white light as it spun around under the room's lamplight.

"Ms. Goto, are you religious?"

"Ah, I..." Following Iwasaki's gaze, she saw the pendant she had inadvertently exposed and hurriedly tucked it back into her clothes, somewhat embarrassed. "I don't really believe in these things. This was given to me by my mother. She believes in them."

Iwasaki didn't press the matter, and instead changed the subject: "I've noticed you hardly get any rest each month, aren't you tired?"

"It's alright." She wasn't very good at communicating with people, especially the patients staying here. She had heard a lot of bad rumors, but she didn't have the right to be picky. She could only choose patients that other caregivers were reluctant to take on.

Patients with total paralysis are the type of patients that caregivers dislike the most, because there are so many things to take care of, and sometimes one person can't handle it all and needs to ask others for help, but the extra pay is not much, so the job ends up falling on her shoulders.

However, she breathed a sigh of relief, at least, at least the other party couldn't do anything bad.

"Have you ever complained to God about life?" Iwasaki looked at Goto, but upon closer inspection, he was lost in thought.

Goto thought about it seriously: "But complaining is useless. We might as well do more work. This job is very good to us."

Iwasaki didn't say anything more.

Goto breathed a sigh of relief: "Mr. Iwasaki, please call me if you need anything."

As she spoke, she pressed the LCD screen next to the hospital bed, which would transmit any conversations from the patient to her rest room.

"it is good."

"Good night."

Goto slowed his pace, carefully walked to the corridor, turned off the main light, turned on the night light, and then closed the door.

Iwasaki lay on the bed, staring at the virtual screen that had been hanging on the side of his field of vision after he had chosen to accept it.

[Settings before starting the game?]

He focused his gaze on it and made his choice.

Please enter a nickname. The nickname is limited to 1-2 Chinese characters and must be selected from your real name.

"Hao," he murmured to himself.

[Player "Hao", created successfully, ID 0110]

[Note: Participating in the game and actively completing levels will earn you generous rewards, but the price of death will be the loss of your lifespan.]

[Players must participate in the game at least once a day until a perfect completion is achieved in the game initiated by "Unknown".]

[That concludes the explanation. Do you wish to enter the game? Once entered, the main body will automatically go to sleep.]

Iwasaki took a deep breath, feeling his body completely numb, and his gaze instantly hardened.

"My life can't get any worse."

"Enter the game."

A blinding white light struck him, and he involuntarily closed his eyes.

咕噜 咕噜

Iwasaki slowly opened his eyes. Everything in front of him had changed dramatically. The hospital bed was gone. He seemed to be sitting on a moving train or a train.

He had never ridden the subway or train, but he knew that this was what it should look like inside.

"My hands, my body"

Iwasaki's lips twitched, and a joyful smile slowly took shape. He supported himself on the chair with his hands, slowly stood up, tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and felt the long-lost tactile beauty. The most wonderful thing in the world is to feel the earth with the soles of your feet and touch the temperature with your palms.

[We are approaching Tsukiji Station. The exit is on the left. Passengers heading towards Tsukiji Market, please exit through the left door. Please take your valuables with you when you disembark.]

Iwasaki was startled; the announcement pulled him back from his excitement.

He forced himself to calm down.

This is a game, not reality. No matter how realistic the feeling in the game is, in reality he is still a bedridden paralyzed man who can't even control his sphincter muscles, and what some people call a useless person.

What he needed to do was to find out what exactly the generous rewards mentioned in the game were.

Could we help a bedridden, paralyzed man achieve a medical miracle?

He had a good memory; even when caught off guard, he memorized everything the broadcast said and carefully considered it.

Before he became paralyzed, he occasionally enjoyed playing games, but many of them were too easy for him and not very fun, so he didn't become addicted.

If he had known this would happen, he should have played more games back then.

Complaining won't help now. All we can do is find our mission objective from the subtle clues and complete the level.

"Tsukiji Station? It should be near Tsukiji Market."

As the train came to a stop, the doors on both sides opened simultaneously, and the contrasting styles on the left and right sides made him ponder.

He quickly checked his belongings and ended up only taking his phone and flowers.

"Is the sign indicating that you should get off on the left? Then please go to the right first."

Having made his decision, Iwasaki didn't hesitate any longer and immediately chose the right-side door.

Chapter 31: Uesugi Hitomi

He wouldn't forget that before entering the game, he had been warned that dying in the game would consume his lifespan.

Because the virtual interface doesn't mention how much it consumes, and there's no customer service mechanism, it's even possible that dying once could result in the terrifying situation of aging ten years.

However, in some movies and TV shows that we've seen before, the consequence of dying in a game is much less severe than dying in real life.

Stepping off the train, he quickly surveyed his surroundings.

He wasn't familiar with subway platforms, so he couldn't tell whether it was a normal platform or not. He just instinctively felt that the platform was a bit too long, seemingly stretching endlessly into the distance.

"From the flower card, I can tell that I'm an ordinary employee. Today I'm going home to celebrate my wedding anniversary with my wife, so the goal of the game is simple: to leave this eerie station." He looked up and examined the stairs leading up. Although it wasn't pitch black, he knew that there was probably no way he could go ahead.

However, hoping that there might be clues to gather, he still decided to go up and take a look.

"Uh—click"

Iwasaki took a few steps, his eyes suddenly widening as the fear of death enveloped him, just like the car accident years ago, suffocating him and making it difficult for him to emerge from the shadow for half a year.

He knew he was going to die, but he didn't know how he would die. Before he died, he tried his best to shake his head and remember the scene in front of him.

"Heh! Heh heh."

nursing home.

On the bed, Iwasaki suddenly opened his eyes, panting heavily, swallowing the copious amounts of saliva that were being produced in his throat.

He felt a splitting headache and his whole body was ice cold.