During the discussion, Dai Wu, with an unconvincing smile, says, “after the Apocalypse, humanity ended up trapped in a game, huh…” His tone is far less critical than anyone else’s, given he is able to walk freely in the game’s instances.

Quite the irony, huh.

It was only a stray comment, but Fei and Mu Jiashi both suddenly exclaim, “a game!”

Dai Wu, blinking, confused, asks, “what’s wrong?”

“A game… game…” Fei keeps repeating the word, “game!”

Mu Jiashi quickly spits out, “this is a game… and whatever the reason, the game itself must contain rational logic inside.”

Everyone else suddenly realises something.

Shen Yünjü asks, “so you mean… His having that Nightmare, is because of what the game’s setting computed?”

He then mumbles to himself, so quietly no one else can hear, “settings according to that game design document?”

Mu Jiashi explains, “just like how the game even has graphical glitches… it’s an actual, real video game in the traditional sense. It is only additionally having us trapped which makes it appear unique…
But fundamentally, it’s still a game!”

Yelling out, Mu Jiashi sounds like he’s discovered some grand conspiracy.

He Shujün is blinking her eyes, confounded. When she entered the Tower, she found her memories cut off during the summer holiday just after Gaokao was over.

This meant that she didn’t have much understanding of video games and whatnot; obviously, she didn’t have time to.

Wu Jian seems quick on the uptake, though, saying, “you’re referring to the game, ‘Escape’s… design?”

“Design… the game design document!” Mu Jiashi quickly turns towards Shen Yünjü.

He also looks stunned, having realised… or, possibly, currently refusing to accept the possibility – that this game trapping them within, is actually created as an idea a human game designer came up with.

Mu Jiashi doesn’t let him off the hook, asking, “in that game design, what was the fundamental setting for this game?”

Shen Yünjü hesitates a bit before explaining, “it was more a rough proposal.”

Everyone is looking at him.

He continues, “it is… about how the Apocalypse has caused so much needless deaths and tragedies, so the game… is themed around exploration and puzzle-solving, to investigate everything that’s happened, and reach into the minds of the madmen.
The lead designer suggested a fictitious ability to enter other’s nightmares, in which you can experience their past, and investigate what happened to them in the beginning, and ultimately… to help them escape from it.”

Then, a rather overwhelming fear and anxiety overcomes Shen Yünjü, and he becomes drenched in cold sweat.

Mu Jiashi, meanwhile, falls into thought.

Looking at him, Fei asks, “so… that is the, prototype, of this game that we’re in?”

“Yes, just a prototype,” Shen Yünjü says rather quietly, “it’s not the same as the Tower.”

Dai Wu seemed rather interested, and he jokingly adds, “if we go by that setting of the game, then whoever ends up in whose nightmare wouldn’t be random, and there would be something that decides and arranges them, no?”

He stuns himself with what he just said.

Mu Jiashi looks very grim, saying, “that would be NE. Isn’t that exactly what NE does in the Tower?”

Who goes to Nightmares——And who Acts as the Nightmare owner, is what NE does in the Tower. It is the manager, as designated by the game design document.

Shen Yünjü says with a wispy tone, “this means, NE itself, is also part of the game’s design? It’s not just simply the Server hosting the game, but also part of the game design’s… NPC? It’s also a feature of the Tower?”

Mu Jiashi stays silent for a long time, until finally, he poses a question, “would NE have a Nightmare?”

Looking around, he suspects his face would look about as terrible as everyone else’s.

It was simply a conversation to kill time, but they ended up peering into something deeply shocking and unnerving.

Mu Jiashi isn’t expecting anyone to answer, so he mumbles to himself, “NE… technically, it can count as a Tower resident, can’t it? It’s a character designed and implemented in the game. An NPC. If so, then what kind of Nightmare might it have?”

If NE is a Tower resident, it should definitely have its own Nightmare, no?

Then what could it be?

Mu Jiashi, almost by reflex, turns to look at the grey fog outside.

When he was in Xü Beijin’s Nightmare, he once jokingly compared all the grey fog surrounding them, with the Collapsed Nightmares and succumbed humans within as a great big pile of useless, junk data.

These are probably troublesome to deal with for an artificial intelligence like NE – perhaps so much so as nightmarish for it.

NE’s Nightmare.

And, Xü Beijin, whose Nightmare is the grey fog itself… Who is he?

The people assembled in the little residence have fallen to a suffocating silence.

Right now, meanwhile, Xü Beijin has stepped onto the top floor of the Tower——Unaware of the Missiontakers’ and some Tower residents’ probes into his possible identity.

Even if he did, he would be unlikely to have answered honestly.

Instead, with a complicated, and rather anxious mindset, while also hiding them as much as possible, he is observing the top floor of the Tower.

What does the top floor look like?

Xü Beijin has some scenes in his ‘memories,’ but only some. It’s also rather chaotic and tattered, like what might become of a simple glance when one is half asleep already.

He’s been here.

That’s not right… It’s more accurate to say, he belonged here.

It is vast, empty, and cold. No one is here. Rumours say that when Missiontakers reach the top floor, they can leave the Tower, but clearly, there is no one nor exit to be found here.

But, there is something here.

Something humanoid, standing there.

When his eyes are shut, he does nominally resemble a human, but when his eyes are open, the code that flashes through the dark space he has for eyes is a clear sign that he is not truly human.

He is only using a shell that is like human.

And in fact, this shell looks rather alike Xü Beijin.

Xü Beijin is looking at him quietly. His gaze carries disgust, repulsion and deeper emotions as well. He doesn’t speak a word, being in a standoff with this ‘person.’

Finally, the other person speaks first.

“I know what you’re here for.”

Xü Beijin takes a deep breath. He realises, whenever he can see him, he can’t help but be disgusted.

It’s a sort of instinct that comes from——Comes from, a near-death fear.

He shuts his eyes a little, recalling that Lin Qin is still in the boundary of the Tower, and thinking about all the Missiontakers waiting for him in the Tower, and even more Missiontakers and Tower residents, who are hoping for the Ultimate Nightmare.

Finally, he speaks, “NE.”

This is NE. the artificial intelligence, controlling the game. The Server of the Tower.

He did look human – at least, mechanically, as he slowly walks towards Xü Beijin.

But the stiff movements and twists and turns of the joints, reveals that he rarely ever moves around like a human.

After thinking for a long time, Xü Beijin decides to start with a more banal comment, “I wasn’t expecting you to adopt a human appearance.”

“I observe them,” replies NE, “I always look at them——look at you.”

He points to himself.

Xü Beijin is quiet.

His patience for small talk with NE is running out quickly. He would much prefer to be anywhere else but here – but this vast, empty, brightly lit but white nothing, of the top floor.

Xü Beijin says, “let’s skip the pleasantries. If you know why I’m here…”

“I’ve been observing you recently, and…” NE ignores him, and just keeps going, “the one in the boundary, your…”

He seems hesitant to identify a correct label for this kind of human relationship.

Xü Beijin is glaring at NE.

Finally, NE says, “boyfriend?”

Xü Beijin coldly says, “huh, I didn’t know you’ve been pursuing an interest in human psychology.”

NE looks like he still wants to say something, but he gives up.

A hesitation highly unexpected of an artificial intelligence.

But in any case, Xü Beijin is able to confirm once again, that something’s changed about NE.

But what could actually change an artificial intelligence’s thinking?

Observing NE’s face that somewhat resembles his own is making him angry and repulsed, but Xü Beijin has to suppress his emotions. He has to tell himself that, he’s here not to throw a temper tantrum against this damned artificial intelligence, but to——Save Lin Qin, and save humanity.

So while emotions continue to stir up and thoughts cross his mind, Xü Beijin maintains a poker face, with a calmness that surprises even himself, waiting for NE’s answer.

He’s already been waiting, depressed, silent for so long. It isn’t difficult to maintain it a little longer.

Even if he’s gritting his teeth where NE can’t see, even if his breathing is intentionally regulated, even if he is feeling a pain deeper than he was expecting.

But, Lin Qin is waiting for him, in the cold, dark, sealed space.

NE is watching him quietly too, with the electronic-eyeballs.

The eyes should have been elegant and beautiful in form, proof of how even NE would decide to reference human values even when shaping his own human body.

But all the mess of characters flashing through them breaks the aesthetic entirely, making people fearful instead. He is not human, even if he dresses like one.

The uncanny valley.

The words quietly pass through Xü Beijin’s mind.

Then, perhaps recalling something, he shuts his eyes a little, looking tired.

His fingers grip for a moment, like he’s trying to grab onto a can of drink, or something else——Like Lin Qin’s hands, perhaps.

But there is nothing here. Only the cold air of the top floor of the Tower, and a mechanical cold-heartedness, coming from NE, that threatens to freeze all over.

NE says, “I do not understand why you’re willing to… help humans like this.”

Xü Beijin sighs and says, “I’m human.”

“You’re not.”

“At least, I identify as human,” Xü Beijin looks up, “I’m far more immersed in my identity as a human than as any artificial intelligence, at least.”