The Trapped Game

Currently, Ye Qingyun possessed a certain degree of self-preservation. He could confidently assert that even if he wished to depart at this very moment, he would find a way. However, for the time being, that thought had receded.

The burly man, still lost in a daze, eventually found Qin Yun.

“Young Master, my lady requests your presence,” the burly man stated, his eyes devoid of life.

Qin Yun nodded slowly, though he remained utterly bewildered by the situation. His new game equipment had only just arrived, and with it being the weekend, he had simply entered a sleep mode the previous night.

Yet, to his surprise, once he logged in, there was no way to log out. Fortunately, these starting locations were based on real cities, and he had been assigned to The Capital of the Song Kingdom. Thus, Qin Yun swiftly located the flower street where Ye Qingyun resided.

Guided by the burly man, Qin Yun reached the exterior of Ye Qingyun’s room without any hindrance.

“Young Master Qin, isn’t it? Please, go right in. Our lady is waiting for you,” Dong’er and Qiu’er said, showing no surprise at Qin Yun’s arrival. They were, after all, already Ye Qingyun’s trusted attendants.

A look of utter astonishment crossed Qin Yun’s face. Dong’er and Qiu’er promptly opened the door, and the moment it swung inward, he beheld Ye Qingyun, radiating an almost bewitching aura.

“Damn, Number Two, your appearance is utterly outrageous!” Qin Yun exclaimed, a string of shocked curses escaping him at the sight of Ye Qingyun.

The Ye Qingyun standing before him was a stark departure from the one he knew, yet he understood. After all, this was a game character; its appearance was naturally not bound by the constraints of reality.

“Enough chatter, hurry over here! If Madam Li catches sight of you, I’ll be in deep trouble,” Ye Qingyun urged, pulling Qin Yun inside with a swift motion. Simultaneously, he subtly gestured to Qiu’er and Dong’er.

The two attendants, understanding Ye Qingyun’s unspoken command, nodded in immediate acknowledgment.

The room door clicked shut, sealing them inside.

“Hey, hey, hey! Men and women should not touch intimately, so kindly release me,” Qin Yun bantered playfully.

His words nearly made Ye Qingyun choke on his own breath.

“Get lost! Enough with the nonsense. When exactly did you enter the game?” Ye Qingyun demanded, his tone laced with urgency.

Qin Yun paused, slightly taken aback, before recounting the exact moment he had logged in. He had joined the game a full day after Ye Qingyun, who, in turn, had found himself trapped from the very first day.

“A day later, then. The timing aligns perfectly,” Ye Qingyun affirmed with a nod. “One month within the game world equates to a single day in the real world.”

Yet, he continued to press the matter.

“So, did you see me today?” Ye Qingyun inquired, his gaze sharp.

“What do you mean? I even came to your room earlier today, and you seemed to be having a grand time playing,” Qin Yun responded, a note of surprise in his voice.

This response brought a sudden clarity to Ye Qingyun. He was undeniably trapped within the game, yet his real-world counterpart appeared to be living life as usual.

This peculiar circumstance suggested a separation between their in-game personas and their real-world selves. Those who entered the game were, at their core, merely compiled data. If the developers had secretly duplicated this data, such a scenario would indeed be plausible.

“Ah, I see now. I finally understand. The game company must have manipulated the artificial intelligence,” Ye Qingyun mused aloud. “When we enter the game, we are essentially a composite of data. I recall discussions online about AI’s capability to integrate with human consciousness, thereby simulating a secondary consciousness.”

“Without a doubt, the game company likely utilized AI to replicate our consciousness data, then left those duplicated data-consciousness entities within the game world. This explanation accounts for everything.”

Ye Qingyun meticulously pieced together the analysis: his real-world self remained perfectly fine. This was the only logical explanation.

As young individuals of the modern era, they possessed a certain familiarity with such concepts. Qin Yun, far from being slow-witted, grasped the implications instantly.

“Are you saying the game developers surreptitiously duplicated our data, then left that copy within the game world? That’s why we feel trapped here, but in reality, our physical selves are still living perfectly fine?” Qin Yun asked, his face a mask of utter astonishment.

“Yes, that’s highly probable. Had you not logged in, I wouldn’t have grasped the full extent of this. The fact that even you are trapped suggests that any player entering the game will have their data replicated and left within this world,” Ye Qingyun explained, his expression hardening.

“This is their ‘never-offline’ gameplay. Fantasy International truly has the audacity to pull such a stunt! This is illegal; it’s outright theft of players’ personal data,” he fumed, a deep scowl etched across his face.

When this virtual reality game technology first emerged, the industry had, in fact, warned of its inherent risks. However, humanity, ever yearning for a brighter future, found such minor dangers insufficient to deter them from experiencing it.

Furthermore, the game company had carried out these manipulations in secret. Unless relevant authorities thoroughly investigated their data servers, the theft of player data would remain undetectable, as this particular form of data theft caused no direct harm to the players in reality.

Thus, the real-world Ye Qingyun likely remained completely oblivious to these developments.

Upon hearing this, Qin Yun experienced a sudden flash of realization, as though a crucial piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

“Ah, so that’s it! No wonder the game suddenly lagged for a moment today, almost like a glitch. But it recovered quickly,” Qin Yun mused. “It seems that was precisely when the developers altered the game’s settings.”

With the situation now clear, both Ye Qingyun and Qin Yun felt a significant weight lift from their minds. As long as their real-world counterparts remained unharmed, everything else seemed manageable.

“Heh, this isn’t so bad,” Ye Qingyun chuckled, letting out a small sigh of relief. “If we can’t log out, then we can’t. Life within the game isn’t exactly unbearable.”

Yet, this sensation was utterly bizarre. It was as if they were now inhabiting an entirely different world.

“Alas, there’s nothing for it,” Qin Yun sighed. “But Number Two, are you accustomed to this body of yours? You seem remarkably natural in it.”

Qin Yun meticulously observed Ye Qingyun, noting that his physique and allure were undeniably exquisite.

“Hmm, it’s alright,” Ye Qingyun replied. “Initially, I was a little unaccustomed, but gradually, it feels quite normal. The character’s abilities are ‘quick-learn’ settings; once you experience something, the body simply remembers it. So, there’s no particularly strange sensation.”

“Why do you ask? You’re not harboring any unsavory thoughts, are you?” Ye Qingyun questioned, his gaze fixed on Qin Yun with a distinct wariness.

“Pfft! You’re utterly disgusting!” Qin Yun scoffed, rolling his eyes instantly upon hearing the remark.

In reality, Qin Yun stood over 1.8 meters tall, a stature maintained by his in-game avatar. Ye Qingyun, by contrast, was approximately 1.7 meters within the game, though his real-world height was 1.75 meters.

“Heh, then perhaps you should refrain from casting such a repulsive gaze upon me. It makes me incredibly uncomfortable, and I might start to think you have homosexual inclinations,” Ye Qingyun retorted with a look of utter disdain.

“You’re far too narcissistic, aren’t you? If I truly harbored such tendencies, your backside would have been compromised long ago,” Qin Yun shot back, leaving Ye Qingyun momentarily speechless.

However, just then, Li Yulian’s voice drifted in from beyond the door.

The sound startled him profoundly, prompting him to swiftly reach out and clamp a hand over Qin Yun’s mouth.

“Silence! Madam Li, the proprietress of Sweetwater Lane, is here. Quickly, find somewhere to hide!” Ye Qingyun urged with urgency.

Qin Yun flinched in alarm. He nodded, his gaze darting around the room, before he ultimately ducked into the wardrobe.

Just as Qin Yun concealed himself, Li Yulian entered the room. The moment she stepped inside, her brow subtly furrowed, as if an imperceptible anomaly had caught her attention. Yet, she dismissed the fleeting sensation.

“Qingrou,” Li Yulian began, her eyes scanning the room. “Someone just reported seeing a man in the backyard. Did you happen to see anything?”

Ye Qingyun met Li Yulian’s scrutinizing gaze, a knot of apprehension tightening in his chest.

‘Damn, how perceptive is this old woman? It’s as if she’s sensed something amiss within my room,’ Ye Qingyun thought, a flicker of panic rising within him.

Nevertheless, he maintained his composure, his expression betraying no hint of his inner turmoil.