Chapter 51#
Last Words#
When Chu Chenli and Mu Yanshen returned from outside, they were about to go find Shen Xuanyi when they ran straight into Hua Jin.
Hua Jin seemed to be lost in thought, staring straight ahead as he precisely collided head-on with them.
Chu Chenli quickly caught him to prevent him from falling.
“Ah Jin?” Chu Chenli waved a hand in front of his face and asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Only then did Hua Jin snap out of it. He looked up at the person in front of him for a moment, his gaze slowly focusing. “Ah, Ah Li? You’re back. What happened? Are you injured?”
He even reached out as if to check on him.
Chu Chenli shook his head and said it was nothing.
“Oh.” Hua Jin relaxed, muttering a few words under his breath as if saying he still had things to do and would catch up later.
Chu Chenli watched him walk away, sensing a deep dejection in his silhouette.
What had happened?
“It’s about Hua Yu.” Shen Xuanyi’s voice came from behind them.
“What about Hua Yu?” Chu Chenli asked.
Shen Xuanyi wore a regretful expression, and Chu Chenli understood immediately.
Hua Yu might no longer be alive.
The worst-case scenario he could think of was that Hua Yu had died miserably in the game world.
The others had mentally prepared themselves for this to some extent, but for Hua Jin, no amount of preparation could soften such a blow.
The only blood relative among the team—his twin sister, who had grown up alongside him.
And in the final trial, Hua Jin’s inner demon had undoubtedly been about his sister.
This was what set Hua Jin apart from the others.
For He Ziyue’s “mother” and Chu Chenli’s “lover,” those were figures they had already lost long ago. No matter how deep their attachment, deep down they had already accepted the reality of eternal parting.
So even if the illusions in the final level were jarring, once they escaped that isolated, seductive environment, they quickly recovered.
Only Hua Jin had never moved on.
He feared that the death of his sister in the final illusion would become reality. He both wanted to know what had happened to her and dreaded receiving the worst possible news.
Even Shen Xuanyi showed a hint of sympathy—almost pity.
“It’s not just that she’s gone,” Shen Xuanyi said softly. “For Hua Jin, perhaps everything was an illusion. Hua Yu… wasn’t actually Hua Yu.”
At the corner, a head of snow-white hair peeked out. Luo Yunshu glanced at the three of them and asked, “President, you called for me?”
Shen Xuanyi smoothly turned and changed the subject. “Yes. Ah Li and the others just got back. Please take them to settle in first.”
Luo Yunshu raised a hand in acknowledgment.
The rooms had long been prepared. Shen Xuanyi, busy with work, didn’t accompany them. Luo Yunshu pulled out a large set of jangling keys and led the two latecomers to their future lodgings.
It was a newly built standalone building, its exterior freshly painted, so new it seemed out of place among the surrounding structures.
It wasn’t far from Shen Xuanyi’s usual office—just a few minutes’ walk—but a good distance from the field agents’ dormitories and training grounds. Unless someone deliberately took a detour, it was hard to run into anyone from those areas.
There was a small garden downstairs, and one side faced a patch of woods, offering tranquility and fresh air.
Luo Yunshu, clutching a folder under his arm and jangling the keys, led them inside while explaining the layout of each floor, like a conscientious apartment manager.
For now, no one else besides their teammates had moved into the small building. Based on Shen Xuanyi’s intentions, it seemed unlikely any outsiders would be allowed to stay here in the future.
As a privilege for “elite personnel”—and undoubtedly influenced by Shen Xuanyi’s personal bias—the living conditions were excellent. Each unit had a living room, a bedroom, and a small balcony, bright and spacious. All daily necessities, even everyday clothing, had been provided in advance. One person could live here comfortably.
Though they had all come from harsh environments, having a good living space could still lift one’s spirits.
Luo Yunshu offered them a handful of keys and told them to pick a room—there were plenty of vacancies.
Chu Chenli picked one at random. Beside him, Mu Yanshen quickly chose the one next to his.
Their rooms were on the third floor, two doors down on the left side. On the right was a common sitting area with a balcony, offering a view of the woods.
Below them were Hua Jin and He Ziyue. Fang Xiyu was still in the medical zone on the other side of the base, apparently enjoying himself so much that he had no plans to move anytime soon.
The others were on the top floor. But aside from the elusive April, the other two were busy with work and rarely returned, so their rooms were mostly empty.
After settling in, Chu Chenli still worried about Hua Jin. But Hua Jin hadn’t come back yet. When He Ziyue returned, she mentioned running into him on the way—apparently, he had gone to the research institute to see a doctor.
He Ziyue herself was dead tired, with dark circles under her eyes, walking as if she were floating.
With Shen Xuanyi’s special permission, she had spent all her time in the Central Base’s data center. With access granted, filtering information became much easier, allowing her to quickly get a handle on all major events over the past ten years.
But what she truly wanted to find remained elusive.
Finally, Shen Xuanyi had to send someone to fetch her back to rest before she collapsed in the data center. Reluctantly, He Ziyue knew she couldn’t keep pushing herself, so she dragged her weary steps back, planning to sleep before returning to continue.
She hadn’t paid much attention to Hua Jin’s unusual behavior.
Chu Chenli didn’t say much either, just told her to go get some rest.
While Chu Chenli was debating whether to find time to talk to Hua Jin, late that night, Hua Jin knocked on his door.
Chu Chenli was startled when he opened it. Hua Jin was drenched, as if he’d just been pulled out of the water.
But the past two days had been clear, and glancing out the window, there was no sign of rain.
Chu Chenli couldn’t help but ask, “What happened to you?”
Hua Jin shrugged nonchalantly. “Accidentally fell into the water.”
By the time he climbed out, he was soaked through. On his way back, he realized he hadn’t brought his key.
Though He Ziyue’s room was closer, she was a girl, and he didn’t want to bother her like this, so he came up to find Chu Chenli.
Chu Chenli stepped aside and let him in.
Hua Jin used his bathroom, changed into clean clothes, and came out. Chu Chenli poured him a glass of hot water.
Mu Yanshen, hearing the commotion from next door, silently slipped over at some point and commandeered Chu Chenli’s balcony to look at the night view.
Usually, Hua Jin would have teased Mu Yanshen, but this time he only glanced at him weakly before looking away. He sat quietly on the sofa, staring blankly at the glass on the coffee table.
Clearly, something was very wrong.
Chu Chenli didn’t rush him.
After sitting in silence for a while, Hua Jin suddenly looked up and asked, “Got any alcohol?”
“No,” Chu Chenli replied.
Hua Jin picked up the teacup and muttered to himself, “Forget it. Water’s fine.”
With that, he downed the warm water in one gulp, drinking plain water as if drowning his sorrows.
Perhaps the gesture gave him a shred of courage. Gripping the empty cup, he spoke again: “Xiao Yu—”
He looked up, a mix of confusion and pain flickering in his eyes.
Chu Chenli sat down diagonally across from him and gently clinked his own cup against Hua Jin’s.
Hua Jin snapped back to reality, his expression of pain deepening. But finally, he regained his composure. He brought the empty cup to his lips and paused for a long time before asking, “Did the captain tell you about Xiao Yu?”
Chu Chenli said, “He said she’s no longer here. My condolences.”
Hua Jin replied, “It’s not just that she’s gone…”
Chu Chenli asked, “What else is there?”
Hua Jin said, “Xiao Yu… might not have been Xiao Yu.”
Hesitantly, he recounted what the captain had told him—the truth behind their final trial.
The captain’s trial had been different from theirs. He had entered a world with a specific boss, and along with “Hua Yu,” a total of five teammates had been assigned to that world—in the end, he had only found five people.
It wasn’t unheard of for the game system to randomly split them into different groups entering different worlds simultaneously, but it was rare, so no one found it strange at first.
Back then, they all thought it would be like before—once they cleared this level, they would reunite in the next world.
At first, they followed their usual routines and agreements, gathering information while trying to contact teammates in the same world.
Everything seemed “normal” until they worked together to defeat the world’s antagonist.
After that, they thought they had returned to reality. But in truth, defeating the final boss only led them into a hidden level—a kind of signal.
Several teammates turned their guns on their own.
The game didn’t need so many survivors. Ideally, only one person would remain alive, bearing the responsibility of all fallen comrades, leaving the game with the ultimate reward to save the real world.
And certain members of their team existed precisely to prevent any deviation from this plan.
Shen Xuanyi instinctively distrusted everything. He didn’t believe they had to be reduced to one person to clear the game. But by the time he found the teammates who had been forcibly separated, it was too late.
“Hua Yu” had killed their teammate.
The baby-faced teammate who had died unguarded under her gun had once been deeply infatuated with her. From their first meeting, he had fallen in love at first sight, diligently wooing her, later risking his life for her multiple times.
Hua Jin had glared at him coldly for a long time, but eventually, he tacitly allowed him to pursue his sister.
“Hua Yu” had always seemed shy around him, but she never truly rejected his advances. Near the end of one world, when they talked about marriage in the glow of firelight, she shyly nodded.
Everyone had already regarded them as a real couple.
Apart from her twin brother, he was supposed to be the most important person to her.
Perhaps she had struggled countless times during the process, but the fact remained that she had personally killed her “lover.”
Was he a lover?
Even Shen Xuanyi couldn’t be sure in the end.
Perhaps he had merely been a tool used to blend in with them.
Or maybe she had genuinely developed feelings. When she chose to take her own life, Shen Xuanyi felt her still-warm tears at the corners of her eyes.
Shen Xuanyi relayed her final cries of “I’m sorry” to Hua Jin. It was only in the game’s clearance guide that the truth was revealed.
On the original list of players, “Hua Yu” had never existed.
She was initially just a fragment of the system’s code, inserted into a body that had already experienced biological death, meticulously shaped into the semblance of an ordinary human.
Hua Jin had mistaken her for his sister, and gradually, she, too, seemed to forget her true identity.
She chose to kill her “lover” in order to secure the world’s clearance slot and see her brother one last time.
But in the final moments, she seemed to suddenly remember that she had never truly qualified to clear the game.
In a corner of the game’s instructions, Shen Xuanyi found the “last words” left by that fragment of code.
Only the final line was written in a crooked hand, just three words—
I’m sorry.