Chapter 10: Setting Ten

Setting Ten: The Prisoner and the Prison (Part 1)

Shan Ziwei slept dreamlessly and woke up the next day around noon. He took a shower first, then made himself a modest lunch—over the years, he’d grown very accustomed to living alone.

The ultra-clear light-screen TV was playing the midday news. A pretty female anchor was passionately delivering the three-part news routine: the leaders were busy, the people were happy, and the foreign people… ah, there were no more foreign countries now. The entire Earth, under the leadership of the Federal Chairman and the management of Gaia, was perfectly harmonious.

[…In another eight months, the quinquennial Chairman election will take place. Next month will enter the candidate nomination phase. Currently, Chairman Sid remains the top contender. Whether he will be re-elected…]

Shan Ziwei turned off the TV and checked the clock. He’d entered the game at 19:00 yesterday, played for five hours, and logged out. It had been nearly eleven hours since then. To prevent people from logging out and immediately logging back in, Role-Play required an 8-hour interval before re-entry.

“I can go back in now.” Shan Ziwei picked up the headset-shaped game device and thought of the fat guy as he connected it to his quantum terminal.

The fat guy still hadn’t sent over the materials—probably still compiling them. Role-Play clearly had a massive amount of information. Shan Ziwei plugged the data cable into his black ring. In the meantime, he’d explore the game on his own—after all, he needed to catch up to the others, and time was tight.

[Quantum terminal connected. Beginning data retrieval.]

[Welcome to “Role-Play.”]

The moment he logged in, Shan Ziwei was tackled in the face by his Toy Box.

“…”

Shan Ziwei lifted Little Gaia off his head by the collar. The silver-haired doll tilted its head and looked at him, the mask on its head wearing an expression of “not happy, want a hug.”

This particular sufferer cleared his throat. He remembered the unfinished business from before logging out and decided to fully understand the Toy Box system before entering another Chessboard.

“Are all my items with you?”

Little Gaia nodded, then reached out its hand straight toward Shan Ziwei. Its sleeves were so long that even at full extension, about a third of the fabric drooped softly—it was comically adorable. Following Little Gaia’s cue, Shan Ziwei leaned closer. The doll stretched out its sleeve-hidden hand and—poof—covered his eyes.

His vision went dark, then bright. He saw a space containing all the items he’d acquired so far: the chess box, the Bishop piece, the golden arrows, and an unfamiliar Setting Card—likely the Chessboard clear reward mentioned in the settlement report.

“Give me that Setting Card.”

Little Gaia puffed out its cheeks and spat out a playing card—it was indeed the Chessboard clear reward from the system.

[3 Magic Mirror
Type: Accessory Equipment
Effect: Reflects truth, endlessly restores itself
Description: Mirror, mirror, on the wall—who is the fairest of them all?]

Shan Ziwei stared at the phrase “endlessly restores itself.” This Setting Card was clearly a perfect match for the Mirror Image skill. Each use of Mirror Image consumed a mirror; with the endlessly self-repairing Magic Mirror, he’d never have to worry about running out of mirrors again.

However, having unlimited fuel was useless without an engine. His Personal Settings had been reset upon leaving the Chessboard—skills, equipment, relationships—all gone. If he wanted to use Mirror Image in the next Chessboard, he’d have to use a [2 Mirror Image] Setting Card to add a Personal Setting allowing him to do so.

What if he didn’t have a [2 Mirror Image] Setting Card? That’s where the Toy Box came in—as long as he fed it chess pieces, it could reproduce Setting Cards he’d used before.

“What do I need to make a [2 Mirror Image]?”

[Pawn Piece x1]

Shan Ziwei opened the chess box and took out a Pawn piece. Little Gaia opened wide and swallowed it in one bite—then opened again and spat out a [2 Mirror Image] Setting Card.

The Toy Box produced Setting Cards faster than Shan Ziwei had expected. After some thought, he decided to wait until he was in a Chessboard before making the Setting Cards he needed, based on the situation.

“That about covers it.”

There was still a lottery-like function he hadn’t tested. Shan Ziwei planned to try it out another time—it was too luck-based. His luck wasn’t particularly good or bad, and in the early stages when chess pieces were scarce, it was better not to gamble with them.

Shan Ziwei set Little Gaia on the ground. Before he could stand up, his Toy Box trotted over on its little legs, dragging its long sleeves, and—thump—hugged his calf, becoming a quiet and beautiful leg ornament once more.

“…”

Seeing Little Gaia like that melted his heart instantly. Shan Ziwei scooped it up and set it on his shoulder—after all, it was just an inanimate doll. As long as it didn’t move around, it wouldn’t trigger his condition.

Little Gaia lay expressionlessly on Shan Ziwei’s shoulder, its long sleeves dangling, the mask on its head smiling happily.

Shan Ziwei carried his Toy Box toward the floor-to-ceiling window at the 1 o’clock position. The other windows were sealed, but this one stood wide open, revealing a shimmering light screen.

[This Chessboard is in Adventure Mode. Enter?]

When Shan Ziwei touched the light screen, the system prompted him. He took a deep breath and suppressed his slight nervousness.

“Yes!”

Warm light filled his vision. As the not-too-dazzling glow gradually faded, what appeared before Shan Ziwei was a dim, grayish room.

A prison?

Whether it was the barred windows and exits, or the cramped bunks and toilet, they all clearly indicated Shan Ziwei’s current situation. What made him most uneasy wasn’t this room representing crime and punishment—it was the people in it.

Unlike the newbie tutorial, a proper Chessboard was no longer a solo instance. Including Shan Ziwei, there were four people in the prison. Their identical short-sleeved shirts and shorts marked them all as players.

[Setting 1: You are a con artist. (00:00:05)]

Shan Ziwei looked at his first system setting. The other players were also silent, seemingly contemplating the meaning of their first settings.

Just then, a red-haired young man spoke up first.

“Hey, let’s introduce ourselves—get to know each other a bit. We’ll be clearing this Chessboard together.” Seeing that he’d caught everyone’s attention, the red-haired youth grew more enthusiastic. “I’ll go first. I’m ‘Dragon Emperor Unrivaled.’ I’ve cleared 2 Chessboards so far. The system just gave me the setting ‘Robber.'”

After introducing himself, Dragon Emperor Unrivaled winked at the girl on his left. “Your turn.”

“Ah! Yes!” The girl, startled at being called on, answered flusteredly. She had an eye-catching pair of assets. “My name is ‘Rice Grain Darling.’ I’ve only cleared the newbie Chessboard. The system just said I’m… I’m…” Her face flushed. “A… a rapist.”

Everyone fell silent for a minute. The system had to be giving out these settings just to make players facepalm!

After Rice Grain Darling introduced herself, she looked at Shan Ziwei on her left. Shan Ziwei suppressed his urge to distance himself from the group and followed the same format.

“My in-game name is ‘GFanzi.’ I’ve only cleared the newbie Chessboard too. Just now… the system…”

The more Shan Ziwei spoke, the more hesitant he became, because he noticed that during his introduction, his Diamond SP (Fear) and Club SP (Sorrow) were plummeting.

What—what was wrong? He was a little nervous, but not to the point of extreme emotion!

—Could he be violating a system setting?

Shan Ziwei stopped talking. The moment he fell silent, his Diamond and Club SP stopped dropping as well.

“What’s wrong?” Dragon Emperor Unrivaled asked.

Shan Ziwei glanced at him and said slowly, “Just now, the system… gave me the setting… ‘Murderer’…”

“It’s just a murderer. That girl’s a rapist and she’s not as tense as you.”

“…”

No one could understand Shan Ziwei’s miserable plight at this moment. He stared at his Diamond and Club SP, which were no longer decreasing, and felt utterly defeated.

—So because he was a con artist, he couldn’t tell the truth—he could only lie?!

Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling didn’t pay much attention to Shan Ziwei’s odd behavior. They turned to the last person, waiting for his introduction.

“Hey, your turn.”

To be honest, Dragon Emperor Unrivaled’s tone was a bit harsh, but Shan Ziwei completely understood how he felt. It was a male’s instinctive hostility toward a rival who was too outstanding—especially with a female present. In Role-Play, since characters were virtualized, everyone was effectively beautified to some degree, so it was rare to see truly ugly avatars. But the person Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was targeting couldn’t even be described with a simple “handsome.”

How to put it—he was the kind who ignited flames in others: the rage of males and the desire of females. The black-haired youth had somewhat long, disheveled bangs that partially covered his eyes, giving him a slightly sullen look. After hearing Dragon Emperor Unrivaled’s words, he glanced up at the red-haired youth, then turned around and started searching the room—treating the words as if they were air.

In short, uncooperative.

“You…”

Dragon Emperor Unrivaled bristled. He thought of that cold glare just now and swallowed the rest of his words.

“Forget it, ignore him. Doesn’t understand teamwork at all—this isn’t a game you play alone.” Dragon Emperor Unrivaled snorted, then said to Shan Ziwei and Rice Grain Darling, “Since I’ve cleared the most Chessboards and have the most experience, you two should listen to me for now.”

“O-okay.” Rice Grain Darling raised her hand. “What should we do now?”

“The Chessboard usually gives us settings to guide our actions. If no settings appear, it means we haven’t triggered some clue—and those clues are usually hidden around us.” Dragon Emperor Unrivaled glanced at the black-haired youth who was still inspecting the room and said reluctantly, “Let’s search the area first.”

So the three of them split up to search the cell. The cell wasn’t very large—basically divided into two areas: the bathroom and the beds. The beds were two bunk beds, left and right. The black-haired youth was in the bathroom area, while Dragon Emperor Unrivaled and Rice Grain Darling searched the right-side bunks. Shan Ziwei instinctively wanted to avoid them, so he went to search the left-side bunks. Standing in front of the ladder, he noticed nameplates hanging at the head of each bunk, from right to left, bottom to top: Rice Grain Darling, Dragon Emperor Unrivaled, GFanzi, Host.

Host? Shan Ziwei looked at the nameplate on the upper bunk—the black-haired youth was called Host?

Was the guy narcissistic or just bold, calling himself “Host”? But in-game names were whatever you wanted—over-the-top names like Dragon Overlord or Dragon Soaring Heaven were everywhere.

Shan Ziwei searched his bunk while listening to the conversation from the other side. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was currently hitting on Rice Grain Darling: “Beautiful, let’s add each other as friends—we can play together sometime~”

“Ah… I don’t know how to add friends.”

“It’s simple—I’ll teach you. Just have your Toy Box come out and shake hands with mine.”

The moment “Toy Box” came up, Shan Ziwei suddenly realized something—no one seemed to have noticed his Toy Box, and he hadn’t seen anyone else’s either.

Shan Ziwei glanced at Little Gaia on his shoulder. The silver-haired black-robed doll was sleeping soundly, so peacefully that no one would dare disturb it.

Did that mean Toy Boxes were only visible to others when the player allowed it? It seemed they also had friend-adding functions…

Shan Ziwei’s fingers brushed against a piece of cardstock. He pulled it out—it was indeed a Setting Card.

[2 Prison Uniform
Type: Full-body Equipment
Effect: Evil +2, Justice -2
Description: The designer of this outfit must have been obsessed with zebras.]

The description was still as snarky as ever. Aside from this Setting Card, Shan Ziwei found nothing else useful. He climbed down from the bunk and saw the other three had gathered together. Dragon Emperor Unrivaled was standing off to the side looking displeased, while Rice Grain Darling was blushing as she looked at a piece of paper in Host’s hand.

Seeing Shan Ziwei approach, Host flipped the paper over and handed it to him.

Shan Ziwei took it carefully. The paper was stained with grease and rice grains—it looked like someone had dunked it in a plate of food.

[Wait for my signal. We’ll break out together.]

“This is…”

Before Shan Ziwei could finish his sentence, the cell lights suddenly dimmed, and a blaring alarm echoed throughout the prison.

[Setting 2: You have escaped from prison.]