Chapter 8: Setting Eight

Setting Eight: Toy Town (Part 4)

Shan Ziwei stared at Chiron with a “=口=” expression.

The elf, who had just added the Possessiveness (Active) setting, simply looked back at him with a smile, radiating an innocent air as if he’d done nothing out of the ordinary.

“You…”

Shan Ziwei got one word out before stopping. On second thought, among “[A Crush (Active)],” “[A Possessiveness (Active)],” and “[A Possessiveness (Passive)],” Chiron had actually picked the most appropriate one. By using the Possessiveness (Active) Relationship Setting Card on him, it meant the elf would likely perform possessive acts according to the card’s description. And if at that moment his relationship toward Chiron happened to be Possessiveness (Passive), he could recover his Diamond SP, which was below half.

Shan Ziwei stared at the remaining “[A Possessiveness (Passive)].” Though deeply embarrassed, he used it without hesitation.

[Setting 9: You are possessed by Chiron.]

…It felt like he’d lost something very important. (:3」∠)

“Heh…” Whether it was his imagination or not, Chiron’s voice grew even brighter and more melodious, carrying undisguised delight. “Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Shan Ziwei tucked the remaining “[A Crush (Active)]” into his hand and led Chiron back toward where the teddy bear was. Perhaps because the powerful Chess Piece Chiron was with him, the journey was peaceful—no monsters appeared. Soon enough, Shan Ziwei spotted that fuzzy figure.

Shan Ziwei happily ran toward the cute creature: Teddy, my friend, I’ve brought your chess pieces back, rawr~ We’re friends helping each other out, right? So come on, system—restore my Spade SP!

The teddy bear was equally happy to see Shan Ziwei return, hopping over with a bunch of balloons in its paw.

“Rawr, you’re back—”

Pop.

For a moment, Shan Ziwei’s mind went completely blank. He stared at the cotton stuffing bursting into the air, as if unable to comprehend what it meant.

Colorful balloons floated skyward, no longer held by their owner. Shan Ziwei turned his head almost mechanically to see Chiron leisurely slinging his silver bow back onto his shoulder. His earlier guess had been right—that bow was indeed powerful. So powerful that it had one-shot a Bishop-rank teddy bear, holy crap!!!

So there was still one-shot killing in this game?! Just how much damage overflow did it take to send a teddy bear straight from full health to death? Wait, that wasn’t the point—the point was, why did Chiron kill the teddy bear?! They were both quest Chess Pieces on the same board—they should be friends!

Shan Ziwei was on the verge of a breakdown from the game’s insane plot twists. Trembling, he stared at the elf, his voice faltering.

“Wh-wh-why…?”

Chiron walked over, his smile still brilliant and bright, brimming with pure radiance.

“I wasn’t happy seeing you get close to it.” Chiron stood before Shan Ziwei. He was a head taller and leaned down slightly, like a gentleman about to perform a hand-kissing ritual. “You’re mine. Don’t get too close to others, alright?”

The last part was phrased as a question, but carried an unquestionable tone of command. Overwhelmed, Shan Ziwei stared blankly at Chiron, unable to say a word.

Chiron gazed deeply at the panicked Shan Ziwei, then suddenly laughed.

“Just kidding.” The elf blinked. “Of course you can get close to others—as long as I don’t see it.”

“…”

Mom, he was developing a psychological trauma around the word “kidding.”

He’d once heard a saying: the sunnier someone seems on the outside, the scarier they are when they turn dark. Shan Ziwei was experiencing that firsthand. Remembering the effect and description of “[A Possessiveness (Active)],” he felt utterly doomed.

Did this mean that from now on, whenever he was with Chiron, anyone who came near him would be killed on sight? Why did this feel like a husband killing all potential lovers to keep his beloved wife from cheating?

He knew the elf was acting this way because of the Relationship Setting, but it still felt terrible!

Even worse, his Diamond SP had actually recovered.

—Recovering Spirit Points from being possessed sounded even worse, okay?!

Perhaps interpreting Shan Ziwei’s silence as resistance, Chiron picked up the Bishop piece dropped by the dead teddy bear and handed it to Shan Ziwei along with the fallen chess box, as if trying to make amends.

“This will be useful to you.”

“…Thank you.”

Faced with a Chess Piece that followed programmatic behavior and could [emphasis] one-shot him at any time [emphasis], what else could Shan Ziwei do but obediently take the chess box and Bishop piece, and light a virtual candle for the teddy bear that had died purely by collateral damage?

[Chess Box
Attribute: 2
Type: Container Item
Effect: Can hold one set of chess pieces. (10/16)
Description: One set of chess pieces includes 1 King, 1 Queen, 2 Castles, 2 Bishops, 2 Knights, and 8 Pawns—did you know that?]

Shan Ziwei placed the Knight and Pawn pieces he’d obtained from battles into the chess box and examined the Bishop piece dropped by the teddy bear. His earlier guess was right—Chess Pieces on the board dropped corresponding chess pieces upon death. Chess pieces had six types: King, Queen, Castle, Bishop, Knight, and Pawn. So the Chess Pieces on the board should also fall into these six categories, likely indicating their ranks. If Pawn-type rabbit soldiers were regular mobs, then Knight-type Mr. White Rabbit was an elite above mobs. He hadn’t fought a Bishop-type teddy bear, but judging by its HP, it was probably a mini-boss.

…So just how terrifying was Chiron, who could one-shot a mini-boss?

Noticing Shan Ziwei’s gaze, the elf’s smile was so bright that little flowers practically bloomed around him.

“Toy Town is already in sight. Let’s keep going—we’ll be there soon.”

Shan Ziwei was about to nod at the terrifying human weapon beside him when he caught sight of the red-and-black tiles filling his field of vision and went numb.

#Mourn for the departed teddy bear and the balloons that flew away#

Chiron took a few steps, then noticed Shan Ziwei wasn’t following. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m afraid of red and black puzzle pieces. I can’t touch them.”

Chiron looked at Shan Ziwei, a hint of hesitation in his gaze, and finally let out what sounded almost like a sigh. “Then there’s no choice.”

He unshouldered the massive silver bow, notched two golden arrows, and launched them toward distant Toy Town. The golden arrows turned into twin meteors that landed at the town’s entrance. At the same time, a small magic circle appeared beneath Shan Ziwei and Chiron’s feet.

“!?”

Shan Ziwei was blinded by the magic circle’s light. He felt a powerful force pulling him, and when he came to his senses, he and Chiron had crossed the red-and-black puzzle zone and were standing before Toy Town’s massive gates.

Shan Ziwei stared blankly as Chiron picked up the golden arrows—if you could drive a BMW, why were you walking the whole time?

As if reading his mind, Chiron handed him the golden arrows and said with a smile, “I wanted to spend more time with you.”

He looked up at the enormous Toy Town behind Shan Ziwei, his expression somewhat ambiguous.

“The one hosting you on this Chessboard isn’t me.” The elf’s voice was so soft it was almost a murmur. Before Shan Ziwei could make out the words, Chiron’s smile returned. “I’ll leave you here. These two arrows are a gift—when you come to my Chessboard, you can use them to find me.”

Though a bit confused, Shan Ziwei obediently took the arrows and thanked him. “Thank you.”

Chiron smiled happily.

“Creak—”

A heavy, ancient grinding sound came from behind him. Shan Ziwei instinctively turned around to see Toy Town’s colorful block-built gates slowly opening left and right, revealing a pitch-black interior with no visible details.

“In here—”

His question died mid-sentence because the person he was asking had vanished. Chiron had left without him noticing. Once again, Shan Ziwei was alone, entering a dungeon by himself, just like when he’d first arrived on the Chessboard.

Though the elf with the Possessiveness setting was a bit dark, there was no denying he’d been very good to him. Shan Ziwei nervously peered into Toy Town’s interior, but it was too dark to see anything.

[Setting 2: You have entered Toy Town. (00:15:43)]

There were still fifteen minutes until Setting 2 activated. Shan Ziwei figured dragging it out was pointless. He was standing at Toy Town’s entrance like on a lonely island—left, right, and behind him were all red-and-black tiles. There was no choice but to move forward.

Steeling himself, Shan Ziwei stepped straight into the darkness—he refused to believe the game would have an “instant death at the door” in a newbie tutorial.

Once inside Toy Town, his vision didn’t stay pitch-black as expected—it brightened. The darkness just now had been like a black barrier. What lay before him now was a massive, deep, dreamlike room. Dots of blue light drifted through the air like strands of a Milky Way. The entire floor was covered in plush carpet, looking warm and cozy—the kind that made you think of stories by the fireplace. Scattered across the carpet, in careless disarray, were countless gift boxes of all sizes—striped, polka-dotted, ribboned. They were piled layer upon layer, forming a maze with a unique aesthetic.

Was it puzzle time now?

Shan Ziwei hesitantly entered the box maze. He quickly realized he was wrong—though the boxes were stacked haphazardly, they didn’t form a complex maze, just a simple straight path. Winding as it was, there were no branches—one road all the way through.

Soon, Shan Ziwei reached the end of the box maze. Judging by the layout, this should be the center of the room.

In the center, the first thing Shan Ziwei saw was a massive display screen that looked like an old-fashioned TV from the 1970s or 80s. He blinked, then followed the screen upward until his eyes met a pair of ghostly ones.

Words couldn’t describe the shock he felt in that moment. He stared at the figure above, completely speechless.

Why—was it here?

Perched atop the three-meter-high display screen sat a youth composed almost entirely of black, white, and gray. His eyes were strikingly inverted—black sclera and white irises. He wore a wide-sleeved robe with a cape, resembling a Western priest. His silver-gray hair cascaded down like countless light rays connecting to an unseen beyond. Shan Ziwei couldn’t describe his face—it was perfect to the point of being an archetype, as if it had distilled all of humanity’s aesthetic ideals since ancient times. Anyone looking at him would only register “beautiful” without being able to pinpoint exactly what made him so.

Perfect as a deity.

And indeed, he was a deity—an artificial one.

“…Gaia…”

Shan Ziwei murmured the name. He’d seen the Central Computer’s virtual avatar in welfare home materials before, but never this close, never this overwhelming.

Humans always liked to give non-human entities human forms, and the Central Computer was no exception. People had even put great effort into its design. For Shan Ziwei, it was still hard to connect this frail-looking youth with the Central Computer that managed all of Earth’s information—he looked like a child in need of protection, not a ruler maintaining world order.

“This is really…”

Shan Ziwei didn’t know whether to admire the game developers’ audacity. He knew Role-Play used the Central Computer as its server, but he never imagined they’d just put Gaia right in the newbie tutorial. “Bold” didn’t even begin to cover it.

Still, this “Gaia” was different from the virtual avatar he’d seen before—aside from those inverted eyes. Probably to fit the game’s aesthetic, it wore a Western-style cloak and robe, with a pure white mask tilted on its head—the same expressionless face from the Role-Play logo.

Kudos to the game developers for that advertising awareness.

Shan Ziwei kept complaining internally to ease his subconscious tension. The source of that tension leaned forward slightly and slowly opened its mouth.

[Please choose a child here as your Toy Box.]

Shan Ziwei heard no sound—only a line of text appearing on the display screen, one character at a time as if typed by an invisible keyboard.

The moment the final character appeared, the entire room erupted.

Countless box lids flew open, like jack-in-the-boxes springing to life, popping out all kinds of exquisite dolls—humanoid, animal-shaped, mechanical… an endless stream of playthings crawled out of their boxes and surged toward Shan Ziwei with enthusiasm.

“No, no, no—don’t come near me!!!”

This particular sufferer let out a terrified shriek and pressed himself against the display screen. The dolls paused, then stopped at a distance of one meter, looking dejected. They surrounded him and began aggressively pitching themselves.

“Pick me, pick me~ I start with seven inventory slots!” A Fuwa-style doll waved its little topknot with rotund charm.

“I can curse people for you~ If you don’t pick me, I’ll curse you, hehehe…” A blue-skinned rag doll lying atop a black box laughed creepily.

“Hey~ Do you believe in fate?” A card-dealer doll shook its box covered in dice pips. “Want to take a gamble with me?”

…

Shan Ziwei was overwhelmed by the bombardment. He steadied himself and looked at the right “System Settings” panel—just now, the system had given a new setting.

[Setting 6: You have chosen your Toy Box. Checkmate.]

A checkmate? Instead of an activation timer, it was a checkmate?

Shan Ziwei was a bit surprised. “Checkmate” was the term for when the game was decided in chess. Did this mean that once this setting was fulfilled, he’d clear the Chessboard?

“Finally, the last step…”

Shan Ziwei let out a huge sigh of relief. He’d never found playing a newbie tutorial so hard. There was no time limit now and it didn’t seem to require combat, so his mood lightened. All he had to do was pick a “Toy Box” to clear the stage.

Shan Ziwei looked at the box dolls. “What’s a Toy Box?”

At his question, the dolls eagerly answered one after another.

“We’re super useful~”

“As long as you give me chess pieces, I’ll give you Setting Cards~ I’m easier to feed than the others—pick me, pick me~”

“I can store things for you, buy things, sell things—pick me~ I’ll give you discounts after I level up.”

“I can handle communications for you—my range is really long~ Would you consider me, meow?”

“I can assist you in combat—after leveling up, I’ll increase your defense!”

Shan Ziwei was tempted. He looked at the Rubik’s Cube box doll that had just spoken—I choose you.

Before making his choice, Shan Ziwei took inventory of what he’d gained on this Chessboard to make sure he didn’t miss anything. He currently had one Bishop piece, a chess box full of pieces, two golden arrows, and one Relationship Setting Card—[A Crush (Active)].

Shan Ziwei stared at that Relationship Setting Card. He hadn’t really tested the effect of an active relationship yet—his good friend Teddy had been cannon-foddered by his possessor Chiron before he could complete the quest and verify the effect of the Friendship (Active) relationship.

Since “[A Crush (Active)]” would probably be buried in storage forever—there was no way he’d use it on anyone else (especially players)—he might as well test the active relationship effect now.

Shan Ziwei tried to use “[A Crush (Active)]” on the Rubik’s Cube box doll, but the Relationship Setting Card didn’t respond at all.

Huh, it couldn’t be used?

He tried it on other dolls—still nothing.

Were Toy Boxes classified as items? So they couldn’t be targeted by Relationship Setting Cards?

Shan Ziwei instinctively glanced up at the ghostly youth above. Among all the dolls, only Gaia looked remotely “human.” Carefully, he used Reconnaissance on the youth—and like with Chiron, there was no feedback.

Whatever—he’d just try it.

So Shan Ziwei secretly used “[A Crush (Active)]” on Gaia. This time, the Relationship Setting Card smoothly dissolved into blue particles that seeped into his Personal Settings panel.

[Setting 10: You are in love with ???]

Seeing the last Personal Setting slot filled, Shan Ziwei let out a breath that could have been either tension or relief.

With the relationship established, the next step was to confess according to “[A Crush (Active)]” description.

No need to be embarrassed—the target was just an emotionless computer avatar. He’d treat it as appreciating a work of art.

Shan Ziwei turned to face the massive screen, not looking up at Gaia at all. His lips moved, his voice so soft only he could hear it:

“I like you.”