“Hello, everyone tuning in from the virtual world! Thank you for joining us on time for this broadcast of ‘Future Fantasies.’ This episode, we’re bringing you an exclusive interview about the full-dive VRMMORPG that has swept the globe in recent years: ‘Associated World’!”
“We are incredibly fortunate to have with us the game’s lead designer and chairman of the Kamikaze Group, Mr. Bai Shiqing!”
With the advent of mature full-dive technology, virtually all traditional media had been supplanted. It allowed our vibrant and charming host to appear before every single viewer, and though merely an image composed of digital signals, she appeared astonishingly lifelike, a perfect mimicry of a real person.
“In 2047, Kamikaze Group launched its inaugural full-dive VRMMORPG, ‘Associated World,’ which rapidly captivated audiences worldwide. Over the ensuing decade, amidst the burgeoning growth of full-dive technology, various publishers and game companies introduced a plethora of full-dive games. Yet, ‘Associated World’ consistently maintained its unparalleled dominance. Mr. Bai Shiqing, what, precisely, is the reason behind this sustained success?”
“Cough, cough.”
Before them, the composite signal cleared its throat with an air of profound seriousness. Then, in a low voice that was both lighthearted and composed, he began to speak.
“The reason, in truth, is quite simple. The fundamental core of ‘Associated World’s’ ability to stand out among such a vibrant array of full-dive games lies in its ‘Companion System.’ The ‘Companion System’ dictates that a portion of the game’s weapons and skills are designated as ‘Companion-tier.’ Any weapon or skill marked as Companion-tier is exclusive to that particular player, making them truly unique.”
“All of us on the ‘Associated World’ development team hope that this system preserves a unique gaming experience for every player, ensuring that each individual’s chosen playstyle and adventure path remains one-of-a-kind. This way, players can fully immerse themselves in and enjoy the wonderful experience of another world brought forth by full-dive technology.”
“Oh, Mr. Bai, wouldn’t such a core game mechanic usually be kept under wraps? What if other game companies were to adopt it? Would ‘Associated World’ still be able to maintain its current level of success?”
The host chuckled softly, her perfectly timed jest adding a delightful layer of intrigue to the interview, an essential element of such programs.
“Haha, there’s no need for concern on that front. The core mechanics of ‘Associated World’ are simply beyond the reach of other companies, even if they wished to imitate them.”
“As I’m sure many of you are aware, our Kamikaze Group acquired the world’s former leading computer, the Shenhai III quantum computer, after its retirement from the national research front.”
“Currently, eighty percent of the Shenhai III’s computational power is dedicated to supporting ‘Associated World’s’ data processing.”
“Just imagine: with every player possessing unique ‘Companion-tier’ skills and weapons, the sheer volume of data required to maintain normal operations during gameplay would be astronomical. As the player count increases, even a supercomputer would struggle to keep up with the calculations. Our Kamikaze Group, however, spent several years diligently overcoming this formidable challenge. While traditional MMORPGs process fixed values on a central server, ‘Associated World’ uniquely assigns each player an individual, miniature processing platform. This platform records and calculates each player’s unique values and combat actions in real-time, subsequently compiling them onto the main server. The unparalleled computational prowess of the Shenhai III computer is precisely what enabled us to implement such a daring and revolutionary change…”
Listening to the man launch into yet another lengthy discourse, Yue Mingyan impatiently raised an eyebrow before exiting the virtual studio of ‘Future Fantasies.’
The vibrant kaleidoscope of signal waves before his eyes receded, replaced by an encompassing darkness.
Yue Mingyan opened his eyes and removed the full-dive helmet.
He slowly sat up from the bed, wincing as he massaged his ears, which had become red and swollen from the prolonged pressure of the helmet. Rising, he poured himself a glass of water.
“Gulp… gulp…”
As if parched from not having a single sip of water all morning, he drained the entire glass in one go.
‘I’ve truly become nothing more than a gaming addict, a complete good-for-nothing…’
Yue Mingyan mused with a helpless sigh, reflecting on how he had been utterly engrossed in the full-dive world ever since summer vacation began.
He would rise at eight in the morning, dive back in after breakfast, only resurfacing for lunch, then resuming his dive until his mother returned home from work in the evening…
‘It’s surprisingly regular, actually…’
‘But this can’t go on!’
Yue Mingyan slapped his own cheeks, attempting to rouse himself.
He donned an outer garment and stepped out of his bedroom, only to find his mother, who should have been at work, standing in the living room.
“You’re finally up?”
His mother glared at him, her slightly indignant gaze making him flinch.
“Uh… ah…”
“‘Uh’!? Do you even know what time it is!? I see this vacation has made you forget your own name, hasn’t it!?”
His mother’s characteristic high-pitched voice temporarily deafened him, a buzzing sensation filling his head.
He quickly covered his ears and sidestepped his mother.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please, a little quieter.”
“Hmph!” His mother grunted, silencing herself, seemingly calming her agitated emotions.
“Xiao Yan, this simply won’t do. If you remain so lax, your body will only grow weaker.”
“I know, I know. I’ll go practice at the training grounds in a bit.”
“Just make sure you know your limits. Now hurry up and eat your lunch.”
“Okay…”
Under his mother’s watchful eye, Yue Mingyan swiftly finished his meal before stepping out of the house.
“It’s so hot…”
The dazzling midday sun made him squint; having been indoors for so long, he found himself momentarily unable to adjust to the brightness of the outside world.
Crossing the expansive courtyard, Yue Mingyan arrived at his family’s outdoor training grounds.
With practiced ease, Yue Mingyan drew a red-tasseled spear from the rack standing at the edge of the grounds and began to wield it slowly.
These were his grandfather’s training grounds, a place where his grandfather had always insisted he practice martial arts when he was a child.
He recalled his reluctance back then; as a child born into an era dominated by new media and mass entertainment, he had little interest in such ancient and seemingly useless martial arts.
Yet, his grandfather had been incredibly stubborn, often declaring, “The Yue Family Spear must not decline in my generation…”
His family, unable to contend with his persistence, had no choice but to entrust Yue Mingyan to his grandfather’s care.
Yue Mingyan swung the spear in his hands, his body, long accustomed to idleness, gradually rediscovered its rhythm.
He then added a touch more force, that power flowing along the slender yet resilient shaft of the spear all the way to its tip.
The cold glint of the spear tip carved a circle through the air, emitting a faint hum as if a sharp blade had cleaved the wind.
Gazing at the empty, somewhat desolate training grounds, he let out a soft sigh and continued his practice.
The training grounds, he realized, had not taken on any new disciples since his grandfather’s passing.
His father, a man of commerce, had not shouldered the significant responsibility of preserving the Yue Family Spear tradition.
After his grandfather was gone, there was no one left capable of imparting this skill to others, and so the training grounds had gradually fallen into decline.
Yue Mingyan felt a pang of regret. Though he had disliked being forced to practice martial arts as a child, now grown, he had slowly come to understand his grandfather’s earnest intentions…
‘Grandfather…’
As he thought of him, his emotions stirred, and the force in his hands inevitably intensified.
He gripped the spear, thrusting it forward in a furious flurry of strikes. The blinding sunlight reflecting off the spear tip made it difficult for him to keep his eyes open, and his breathing grew ragged.
‘That’s enough for today…’
He twirled the spear in a flourish before him, then brought the long weapon back behind his body.
“Clink.”
The sound of a tile clattering to the ground made him pause, just as he was about to return the long spear to its rack.
He cautiously turned his gaze toward the source of the noise.
“!”
Peeking over the half-height fence outside Yue Mingyan’s family courtyard, constructed from old tiles, a petite figure froze for a moment.
She stared at him in a panic, as if caught doing something wrong, her delicate, pale face flushed crimson with alarm.
She opened her mouth, but no words escaped. Lowering her head, the figure seemed intent on fleeing.
“Xuerou?”
Yue Mingyan recognized her and called out.
Liu Xuerou froze in place, then stiffly turned to nod at him before bolting away without a backward glance.
His hand, which he had begun to raise in greeting, fell back to his side as he watched her figure disappear into the depths of the alley.
Liu Xuerou was his childhood sweetheart, a bond forged from growing up together.
He remembered how, as children, she would often visit his grandfather’s training grounds, watching Yue Mingyan and his fellow disciples practice with spears.
Their relationship back then had been wonderful; Liu Xuerou would come to his family’s training grounds every day to play with him.
She had even, at one point, nearly joined his grandfather’s spear-fighting academy. However, the stubborn old man had put her off with the excuse that “Xuerou’s constitution is too weak; she isn’t suited for martial arts, or she might develop chronic ailments.”
This had so frightened Xuerou’s grandmother that she absolutely refused to let Xuerou train in martial arts.
Xuerou’s grandmother, for her part, was a kind-faced old woman. If Xuerou had continued to live with her grandmother, perhaps she wouldn’t have become the way she was now.
‘Alas…’
Xuerou was born into such a family, and ever since ‘that incident,’ she had become silent, timid, and introverted.
Even he, her former best friend and childhood sweetheart, found it difficult to communicate with her normally.
Yue Mingyan desperately wanted to do something for her, but as he was now, he was utterly powerless…
‘Well, no use dwelling on it.’
Yue Mingyan forced himself to cheer up. Complaining about fate wouldn’t change anything.
He slid the long spear back onto its rack and turned to walk towards his house.
He cautiously stepped inside, scouting around to confirm his mother seemed to have already left for work.
‘Excellent!’
He immediately dashed upstairs and burrowed into his room.
Skillfully donning his full-dive helmet, he lay down on his bed.
“Associated World! Activate!”
A powerful burst of light appeared before his eyes, yet he felt no stinging sensation from the intensity.
This was because everything he now perceived was a ‘sensation’—electronic signals transmitted directly to his brain in a full-dive state.
The light gradually dispersed, and Yue Mingyan’s luxuriously dressed game character materialized in the cerulean login lobby.
In this game, he was formidable.
He was one of the few players who, within days of the recent update to version 150, had already reached the maximum level.
His greatsword-wielding character was renowned across the server for devastating enemies with a single strike.
When his dark red armor and blood-colored greatsword appeared on the battlefield, enemies would always scatter in terror, giving him a wide berth.
He had earned the nickname ‘Frenzied Greatsword Wielder.’ (Of course, he himself was rather embarrassed by the moniker.)
Yet, at this moment, gazing at his powerful account, he fell into a contemplative silence.
‘If only I could be this strong in reality, perhaps I could help Xuerou. Maybe, just maybe, I could help her overcome her struggles…’
‘Alas… I’m just a mere gaming addict. Aside from games… I have nothing.’
He instinctively raised his hand and tapped the spot where the login button used to be.
The confirmation page popped up, and he clicked ‘confirm’ without hesitation.
The cold system notification rang out.
“Account is being deregistered…”
Yue Mingyan was stunned.
‘Wait, wait! No way!!?????’