The four members of the reincarnation team were stunned. Their emotions had not even had time to shift from their dissatisfaction with Yu Cheng.
Everything had happened far too abruptly. Just a moment ago, they had assumed that Yu Cheng’s questioning had triggered the system’s warning.
To be honest, although each of them had their own little schemes, Yu Cheng’s excellence was beyond question. He was the unquestioned leader of the entire team.
Their opinions did not always align, but they had always trusted Yu Cheng’s judgment.
It was not difficult to guess what Yu Cheng had thought of that had prompted the system to issue such a warning. Most likely, he had noticed from all sorts of clues that this mission might once again be a trap set by the Main God.
It was not as though such a thing had never happened before. Sometimes, the Main God would give vague or highly misleading hints at the very beginning. However, this was the first time it had deliberately misled them about the sides of good and evil.
It was only natural that Yu Cheng would lose his temper. He had always held himself to rather high moral standards.
The instant Yu Cheng reached his conclusion, the other four naturally believed him as well, without the slightest doubt.
That was why they had skipped straight to the next step. When the system had responded with such force, their first instinct had been to think that, given Yu Cheng’s personality, this mission was likely to be a difficult one.
They had never once suspected that Yu Cheng could actually have been wrong.
That main villain really was the main villain.
Just look at the three people under the moonlight now: their twisted, sinister expressions, their malicious gazes—and Yu Cheng, lying in Pei Liang’s arms, looking especially innocent and pitiful, as though he had just been deceived.
If this wasn’t the main villain, they would twist their heads off and kick them around like balls.
The four of them sensed that something was wrong and instinctively tried to flee.
Although their team was still fairly new and had not experienced many reincarnation missions, Yu Cheng’s wealth of combat experience had allowed them to devise quite a few contingency plans.
One of them was this: if Yu Cheng, the strongest fighter on the team, was defeated by someone else, they were not to hesitate. They were to run immediately.
Anyone capable of defeating him was either far stronger than the combined strength of all four of them or had come fully prepared. Either way, they were not opponents they could afford to confront head-on.
The others were to escape first, then work out their next move.
Strictly speaking, this reincarnation team was not an outstanding one. Its members had been protected by Yu Cheng and had not suffered any major losses, so they had never gone through the process of replacing members and building an ideal team.
In essence, Yu Cheng was carrying the entire group. Two or three of the others were quite self-serving, short-sighted, and mediocre in ability. Strictly speaking, this reincarnation team could not be considered exceptional.
Now that Yu Cheng had been captured, whether out of instinct or because of Yu Cheng’s instructions, their first reaction was to run.
But how could it be that easy?
They had only just begun to leap away when a huge metal cage-ball suddenly descended over them.
Whether relying on their abilities or their physical attributes, they could not break free in time. A moment later, they were all locked inside.
Telekinesis!
The four of them immediately understood. The male protagonist, Chu Yebai, had used telekinesis to restrict their movements, slowing their actions and preventing them from fully using their abilities. Zhong An, that lackey, had then taken advantage of the opportunity to trap them.
That man’s metallic ability allowed him to change his form at will. He was somewhat like the liquid-metal robot from *Terminator*—an outrageously overpowered ability.
That guy was the Big Boss’s loyal dog, too—the kind that attacked wherever he was pointed.
Pei Liang smiled. “Don’t be in such a hurry to leave. You came all this way to seek refuge with me, yet you’re already trying to run after less than half a day together.”
“It really makes me reflect. Am I that unpleasant to be around? Was half a day all it took for me to drive you away?”
The four of them stood rigid, cold sweat pouring down their backs. The oldest had spent years as a corporate wage slave and was the smoothest talker of the bunch.
He forced a stiff, ingratiating smile. “Not at all, not at all. We’re just timid. We were frightened by the spectacle.”
“But after the wind blew, we’ve come to our senses. Since Boss Pei is so beloved by everyone, and everything you do is for the sake of the base and its people, why would we be afraid of such a great benefactor?”
“We were the ones who overstepped. Please don’t take offense, Boss Pei. If you have something to say, we’ll listen attentively.”
Bai Rou shot him a look, her eyes filled with contempt.
But since the Big Boss had decided to make things difficult for them, there was clearly no way they could talk their way out of it.
Zhong An transformed once again, splitting directly into several metal cables that bound the four people around their torsos, hands, and feet.
The four grew even more anxious. Then they saw the Big Boss approach them and bend down to snatch a ring from Bai Rou’s hand.
Bai Rou’s face instantly went deathly pale. She struggled desperately. “Give it back! Give it—”
But it was already too late. Something had appeared in the Big Boss’s hand.
It was a handgun, visibly different from the standard-issue models distributed by the base. It had appeared out of thin air in Pei Liang’s hand, even though Bai Rou had been holding nothing but that ring.
“As expected.” Pei Liang smiled. “You may not know this, but the base started observing you much earlier than you imagined.”
A convoy of several thousand people formed a line of vehicles so long that, from the road, its end was impossible to see.
Every day, the base monitored conditions on the country’s major highways, providing survivors with real-time information to help them avoid danger. Naturally, it paid particular attention to the several main routes leading directly to the base.
They had even used the Sky Eye surveillance system to watch recordings of several battles in which the group had encountered zombies.
Pei Liang continued, “You performed exceptionally well. You made quite an impressive show of force, in fact. People with talents like yours naturally have to be handled with caution.”
“So besides interviewing you personally, I also had to investigate your backgrounds from other angles.”
The four were startled. They understood now that when the Big Boss had taken them out that afternoon, it hadn’t merely been a test or a probing exercise.
He had also been separating them from the group so he could learn about them through the people in the convoy who had spent every day with them, piecing together clues from everything that had happened over the past several days.
Chu Yebai spoke up. “You were fairly meticulous in your actions. Captain Yu in particular—despite not having reached the base yet, you were already perfectly maintaining the persona you’d fabricated for yourself, never displaying any unnecessary abilities.”
“It’s a shame that no matter how capable one person is, they can’t carry a whole group of self-important idiots.”
“Of course, when it comes to protecting the safety of several thousand people, if you couldn’t manage it, you can’t be blamed for everything.”
“But the firearms, the storage of supplies, even the battle recordings…” As he spoke, a phone appeared in Chu Yebai’s hand. On its screen was a video playing—one of their battles, recorded at some unknown point in time.
During that battle, all of them had revealed, to varying degrees, some of their other abilities.
Ordinary people still didn’t understand the true nature of evolution or how abilities were formed. They might merely find the displays powerful and dazzling, but in the eyes of the sharp-minded people around the Big Boss, their flaws were laughably obvious.
Bai Rou had conjured weapons out of thin air during the fight. She had also gone into a convenience store in the shopping mall and emerged empty-handed, while the supplies inside had disappeared.
“You have no obligation to explain your privacy or your abilities to the people you’ve rescued. Even if they notice something, they’ll simply assume you have a spatial ability and obtained those weapons through your profession or some other means. But after what you demonstrated earlier, the truth is glaringly obvious.”
Take Bai Rou, for example. She had already demonstrated a plant-based ability while clearing cars on the highway. Gong Ran had confirmed that dual-ability users did not exist.
The suspicion had therefore been proven beyond doubt.
The four of them were horrified when they heard this. Throughout their journey, they had repeatedly been scolded by Yu Cheng for similar matters.
They would rein themselves in whenever he was around, but the moment his back was turned, they still took the easy way out.
It was difficult for anyone to give up conveniences they already possessed—especially for people like them, who, strictly speaking, should have been eliminated by the Reincarnation Game long ago.
The four of them were consumed by regret, but at the same time, they were shaken to the core.
When had these people reached such an understanding? Weren’t they in the middle of staging some adulterer-catching drama? Hadn’t the Big Boss pretended to be dead and slipped away to avoid those two?
Why had they developed such tacit understanding after leaving?
Compared to them, the way they had held their captain back was simply too humiliating to look at.
But the Big Boss had no intention of giving them time to reflect at leisure.
Instead, she asked a question that nearly scared their souls out of their bodies—
“Which game are you from? Am I your mission target?”
The four of them had never been this horrified—not even when every one of their secrets had been stripped bare.
The Reincarnation Game had a protection mechanism. No matter what happened, NPCs would never become aware of the game’s existence. Their minds would automatically steer away from that possibility and slide toward a “reasonable” explanation.
They might suspect that the four came from some research institute or mysterious organization, or that they had encountered some extraordinary opportunity.
Never in their wildest dreams had they imagined that the Big Boss would guess the truth outright.
Impossible. This was impossible! It completely violated the game’s rules.
The four of them looked as if they had seen a ghost. Naturally, that was the best answer they could have given.
“So it really is true?” the Big Boss said with a laugh. “Then I’m deeply honored.”
Some people really were more determined than she had imagined.
However, Chu Yebai, Gong Ran, Zhong An, and Pei Ning all wore puzzled expressions. They asked Pei Liang, “What did you just say?”
It had worked. The native characters of this world were still protected by the game’s secrecy mechanism.
Then what was the Big Boss?
Could she be—
The Big Boss didn’t seem to care that her existence had been called into question.
She simply sat down on the hood of the car, crossing her legs, and said to them, “All right. Now I can question you without any reservations.”
As she spoke, she yanked Yu Cheng up and pressed the gun against his forehead.
“Here’s what happens next: if you lie about even one word, Captain Yu’s head gets blown off. Understood?”
Pei Liang’s gaze swept over them, undisguised contempt in her eyes after assessing them—
“Even the most pathetic idiots among you should know that without Captain Yu, you won’t survive for long.”
The others swallowed with difficulty. Bai Rou hurriedly said, “Let go of our captain.”
“Pressuring us won’t do you any good. I guarantee that before you can get the answers you want, our heads will explode first. You’d be better off keeping Captain Yu alive. As living people, we’re far more useful to you.”
Afraid Pei Liang still didn’t believe her, she continued, “I don’t know why the confidentiality mechanism didn’t stop you, but you’ll face just as much risk as we do. In other words, both sides are at risk of being erased.”
Pei Liang nodded. “That’s true. After all, the players in the game—people like you—have managed to survive until now. That means the entry requirements are practically nonexistent.”
“There’s no way to rely on idiots like you to keep the game’s existence secret on your own.”
For example, if Chu Yebai or Gong Ran were dealing with people like these, they would definitely discover their origins. It was only a matter of time before the game was exposed.
So the safeguards had to be comprehensive. Even those fortunate enough to learn the truth would either have their memories erased or be directly eliminated, Pei Liang guessed.
Now, it seemed that the latter was the case.
Pei Liang smiled. “Yes. The risk I’m facing now is about the same as yours, so why don’t we all be honest with each other?”
“But for the sake of staying alive, we’ll have to be crafty and exploit a few loopholes.”
Pei Liang asked her system, “Given the current situation, there’s no way I’m not entitled to at least a little extra consideration, right?”
The system said, “Er—”
Pei Liang continued, “I’m technically a player in a romance game, so naturally I should be protected by the romance game.”
“Now that another game has stuck its hand in, I admit that, from its perspective, I’m also a quest NPC, and it has its own way of handling things.”
“But regardless of what the higher-ups say, I’m the one who was offended first. The moment they chose to reach their hands in, they should have been prepared to be dragged out by them, right?”
The system said, “Yes!”
Pei Liang smiled. “Then that settles it.”
Afterward, she added provocatively, “Actually, there’s no need to restrict my system from speaking. Even if it doesn’t say a word, it won’t interfere with my judgment.”
“When it suddenly stops chattering and becomes this concise, I’m not used to it.”
The moment she finished speaking, it was as though some restriction had been lifted. The system immediately began yammering in Pei Liang’s ear again—
“Oh, let me tell you, I was gagged just now! I wanted to say something—I wanted to give you a hint—but I was gagged! Luckily, you’re clever…”
Pei Liang casually switched it to Do Not Disturb mode.
Once she had determined the limits of what she could do, she turned to Bai Rou and asked outright, “You’re a woman?”
Bai Rou was startled. But rather than surprised, she seemed caught completely off guard.
The Big Boss’s base had shapeshifters, and regardless of gender, men and women differed in both their gait and their mannerisms.
Although Bai Rou had tried her best to imitate a man, the Big Boss’s perception was so keen that he could see through even the most confidential matters—let alone her gender.
She said, “The space ring has twenty-five one-slot compartments. Please take out that capsule for me.”
Pei Liang did indeed take it out, but she didn’t hand it to Bai Rou right away. Instead, she opened the capsule, poured a tiny amount of the powder into a small plastic sample bag, and handed it to Gong Ran.
“Take it back and study it. It looks like this is the only one left, so see if you can recreate it from the ingredients.”
Only then did she give the capsule to Bai Rou. After Bai Rou swallowed it, the short, dark, skinny man rapidly transformed into a fair-skinned, beautiful woman.
Pei Liang whistled, then asked, “Why disguise yourself as an ordinary-looking man?”
“Even among the world’s mutated people, you wouldn’t be considered weak. And you’ve got several companions with you, along with a group of ordinary people who need your protection. Why go out of your way to disguise yourself?”
Then, somewhat puzzled, she asked Chu Yebai, “It’s not as if there are rumors going around that our base kidnaps beautiful women, is it?”
Chu Yebai, who was wiping down his gun, replied bluntly, “No. You’re the base’s public face yourself, so why would you think that?”
That was true. Before the apocalypse, Pei Liang had been what kind of person? A world-famous dancer who had taken part in countless charity events, she had always maintained an elegant and exemplary public image.
The base’s publicity efforts and the assistance it provided to apocalypse survivors were even more extensive. It was the ideal refuge for survivors across the entire country.
How could it have given a young woman this kind of sense of danger?
Pei Liang and the others couldn’t figure out Bai Rou’s motive, but they saw Bai Rou burst into tears.
Her hands and feet were bound, so she couldn’t cover her face or wipe away her tears. She sobbed miserably.
“Yes, yes… I shouldn’t have been the one to take it. I never should have taken it!”
The other three looked as though they had just suffered a funeral, too, and there was a trace of pity in their gazes toward Yu Cheng.
Pei Liang lowered her voice. “Did I ask the wrong question? Did I hit a sore spot?”
“Geez, I feel kind of bad now.”
Then Pei Liang clapped her hands. “All right, let’s change the subject. Gong Ran, give each of them a shot first.”
Gong Ran immediately injected them one by one. Afterward, they discovered that their bodies had gone limp and they could no longer summon their physical strength or abilities.
This doctor’s cold-blooded brutality was completely different from the impression they had initially formed from the system’s prompts. And they had actually felt sorry for him before.
Hmph! Serves them right for being toyed with.
Pei Liang nodded and praised Gong Ran. “Looks like your drug works not only on radiation-evolved people, but on outsiders as well.”
Gong Ran smiled. “Of course. I’m the best—in every sense of the word.”
As he spoke, he glanced pointedly at Chu Yebai.
Chu Yebai smiled brightly. “What good is bragging when you won’t even let me test it with her?”
Gong Ran: “…”
Pei Liang hurriedly put several steps between herself and the two of them, afraid she would once again be caught in the middle and made the odd one out.
Then the interrogation officially began.
The four members of the Reincarnation group had originally assumed they would be subjected to some kind of torture, but nothing of the sort happened.
Pei Liang really was merely asking questions. Yet every one of her questions made their hearts feel as though they were about to stop.
“Do you exist in the same reality?”
Within the Reincarnation Space, the members of each team had surely introduced themselves and discussed their pasts. Many things should have already been established.
The answers to Pei Liang’s questions were nothing more than simple yeses or noes. She didn’t even need them to respond before she already knew the answer.
Pei Liang nodded. “Looks like the pool of candidates your game draws from is pretty large.”
Every player might come from a different world. The only thing she didn’t know was whether the world from which the mission-takers were selected was the same one.
The moment this thought surfaced, Pei Liang felt a terrifying threat, like the approach of death.
Instead of being afraid, she laughed. The voice in her mind answered with almost unrestrained arrogance: “Don’t be so petty. You were the ones who went and did something unnecessary, letting me see things players were never supposed to see. That’s entirely your fault.”
“But thanks for reacting. Now I know the answer.”
Some existence was, at that moment, consumed by regret over its decision—and its earlier arrogance.
Yet the same principle still applied: no rule could favor only one side. If restrictions were imposed on someone, then any benefits gained through those restrictions and challenges had to be fully acknowledged.
Pei Liang continued questioning the reincarnation players. “Do you have any downtime after completing a mission?”
“So you do. Then can you return to reality during that downtime?”
“No? I thought so. Since you exist as a team, and you aren’t even from the same world, you naturally need time to build up a working rapport.”
“So your game has a unified space for housing players.”
The four of them were drenched in cold sweat. They hadn’t said a single word; Pei Liang had simply been talking to herself. And yet she had extracted the existence of the Reincarnation Space—a major secret—from them just like that.
Why hadn’t she exploded? Would they explode?
The regulations stated that reincarnation players were forbidden from revealing the existence of the game or the Reincarnation Space in any form. Violation meant annihilation.
They had not revealed anything subjectively, but the Big Boss had indeed learned the truth from them.
Every question the Big Boss asked made them feel as though they were standing on the brink of death.
And this was only the beginning. It was far from over.
“Do the missions pose a risk to your lives—fine, that question was pointless. Your fortunes clearly weren’t amassed in a peaceful world.”
“Is there any way to leave? For example, using mission rewards to purchase a redemption token, or having a fixed limit on the number of missions from the outset? Or perhaps clearing the game at max level?”
“There is! Then let’s move on. What is your team’s average number of successful missions?”
“One to three, four to six, six—looks like it’s four to six. Without a doubt, Captain Yu is the most experienced among you.”
As she spoke, Pei Liang smiled. “No offense, but without him, you people wouldn’t have made it past the second world after entering the game.”
After all, in Pei Liang’s eyes, they were still unqualified even now—accustomed to being protected as though it were only natural.
“What do your rewards consist of? Points, ratings, contributions—points. Are the points divided equally among the team, or awarded according to contribution?”
“According to contribution. Obviously. After all, that useless man with the glasses and the middle-aged man are always acting sour while trying to take advantage of every benefit.”
“Take Captain Yu as an example. How many points does he usually earn? One thousand? Two thousand? Three thousand? Five thousand?—Five thousand!”
Pei Liang’s questions were not complicated. Whenever specific figures were involved, she would rapidly list a range of possibilities, her eyes fixed intently on your expression.
The four of them had already begun to waver. Even though they desperately tried to ignore the problem and refrain from reacting—or even tried to mislead her with false reactions—
For instance, when she asked about the range of points, they deliberately showed signs of wavering over the wrong answers.
Yet she still managed to identify the correct answer. And when she stated the right answer, they had all done their utmost to keep themselves from reacting.
“Heh!” Pei Liang gave a soft laugh. “You all look pretty puzzled.”
“Although you tried to hide the real options, unfortunately, there isn’t enough time for you to collude with one another. Not that you’d be able to do it even if you had the time.”
“You all wanted to steer me toward the wrong answer, while simultaneously hiding the correct one. In that situation, the correct answer became so obvious that even a blind man could see it.”
With that, she smiled. “But don’t worry about it. You can try a different trick next time. After all, my criteria for judgment will be different every time.”
“Keep it up! This will be useful to you if you ever face interrogation in the future. Or Captain Yu could simply add it as a training exercise when you get back.”
In Pei Liang’s opinion, though, within two or three more worlds, everyone except Miss Bai would probably be phased out and replaced with new members.
Still, when the four of them heard this, they actually felt a little relieved.
Did the Big Boss mean that she didn’t intend to kill them at the moment?
But before the weight in their hearts could fully lift, she continued, “Do all weapons, abilities, and items have to be purchased through the game, or can they also be obtained in the mission worlds?”
“Looks like there are both options. All right, I’ll ask you one last question.”
Pei Liang leaned forward slightly. “If a player has points but hasn’t unlocked the purchasing channel, can they file a complaint or report the issue?”
The four exchanged glances. This was a situation they had never encountered before, though the control panel in the Main God’s Space did seem to have a complaint option.
There was no category for complaints, however; players had to write them out themselves.
When they had first arrived, they had filed complaints as well—about their lives being threatened and the like. But no one had paid them any attention, so they had assumed the option was merely there for show.
After all, they had never encountered a situation where they couldn’t buy something. There had only ever been things they couldn’t afford. Since the problem didn’t exist, naturally, they had never had reason to complain about it.
But this was something the players knew among themselves. How could they possibly dare tell the Big Boss, an outsider?
Even though she had already stripped the reincarnation game down to its underwear—exposing its selection mechanisms, the reincarnation space, the nature of its missions, its reward and punishment rules, and its upgrade calculations—
they still didn’t dare reveal anything of their own accord.
What was even more despairing was that the Big Boss didn’t need their cooperation at all.
At that moment, the Big Boss smiled.
The smile sent chills down all four of their spines, as though they had glimpsed some forbidden realm they were never meant to touch.
She patted the little beauty Bai Rou on the face and said pleasantly, “Thanks. I’ll ask you again if anything comes up.”
Don’t say it like they had already violated some instant-death rule!
As luck would have it, Yu Cheng regained consciousness at that very moment. The first thing he saw upon opening his eyes was his team members bound tightly, each of them looking utterly devastated.
The instant they saw him wake up, the four nearly burst into tears.
“Captain~~”
Yu Cheng was startled, and scenes from before he lost consciousness resurfaced in his mind.
It had been Pei Liang. Pei Liang had knocked him out. Just when he had decided that this man might not actually be the villain, reality had dealt him a heavy, deeply mocking blow.
Yu Cheng bit his lower lip, feeling somewhat guilty toward his teammates. “I’m sorry. I—”
“No, no, no, Captain, don’t say that. They were prepared in advance, and there was no way we could have defended against them. It’s not your fault at all.”
Yu Cheng felt a warm glow in his heart. “You guys…”
“So, Captain, don’t blame us for what happens next, either.”
Yu Cheng had a bad feeling. “What did you do?”
Bai Rou burst into tears. “The secret of the game has been exposed! She knows everything—the selection rules, the missions, the rewards…”
Yu Cheng’s vision went dark. He had only been unconscious for a little while, and they had already stripped the family secrets bare?
It wasn’t just his teammates—even the system let out a sound in his mind that was almost like a sob.
Then, his scalp suddenly began to ache.
Gong Ran grabbed him and shoved Yu Cheng—who had been injected with a suppressant and tightly bound from head to toe—into the car they had driven there.
Chu Yebai and Pei Liang then moved to get in as well.
Pei Liang instructed Pei Ning and Zhong An, “The others will ride with you. Head back first. Don’t worry about us.”
A knowing grin immediately spread across Pei Ning’s face. “Hehe! Sure, sure, no problem. Don’t worry. I may be useless in a fight, but driving is no trouble. Keeping an eye on these drugged-up losers is nothing.”
As she spoke, she nudged Zhong An. “Right?”
Zhong An hurriedly nodded, casting Yu Cheng a sympathetic look. “That’s right, that’s right. I’ll keep them restrained the whole way and guarantee we get them safely back to base.”
“You don’t need to rush, either. Take your time and have fun. The atmosphere in the wilderness at night is perfect—no need to hurry.”
Pei Liang: “…”
Those two had changed quite a bit in just a month.
Bai Rou struggled frantically, while the other four looked terrified. Her voice had practically changed pitch. “W-What are you planning to do?”
Pei Liang, Chu Yebai, and Gong Ran all broke into sinister smiles.
“We’ve finished the interrogation. Out here in the middle of nowhere, we’re taking the prettiest one into the car. What do you think we’re planning to do?”
