A New Reality, A Dangerous Game

It was utterly dreadful.

Holding her own fair, delicate hands, Xiang Qi felt a profound malice emanating from the world.

The young woman possessed exquisite features and a graceful countenance, her waterfall of black hair naturally cascading to her waist. Her slender form, enveloped in a white dress, exuded an air of scholarly refinement, while her slightly pale, ivory-like skin added a touch of fragility.

What truly captivated was a pair of pure, translucent eyes, a faint purplish-black, clear as crystal.

Such a girl was undoubtedly beautiful, and indeed, she perfectly aligned with Xiang Qi’s aesthetic. However, when that girl was herself, it became far less appealing.

Fortunately, the purple in her eyes was not overtly intense; one might not even notice it without a careful look.

At least it wouldn’t make her even more conspicuous, though a girl this pretty was already quite noticeable.

Xiang Qi understood the philosophy of the golden mean, knowing that being exceptionally outstanding or different in any aspect would always attract attention, and attention rarely led to anything good.

While it was true that positive attention might sometimes bring opportunities, it didn’t guarantee substantial help. Conversely, the likelihood of negative consequences increased significantly, posing an immense risk.

Her philosophy was to forgo some unnecessary benefits rather than place herself in uncontrollable danger.

‘The nail that sticks out gets hammered down’—this adage held true everywhere.

Now, more than complaining, Xiang Qi had begun to consider the advantages this new body might offer.

She had, at least initially, accepted reality. Not with absolute conviction, but she was largely unresistant. What else could she do? Drag out that scoundrel of a father who had disappeared and beat him up?

‘Please, we’re all adults here. Everything is about benefits, isn’t it?’ Aside from the unreliability of such a suggestion, this body-swapping technique, existing only in a fantasy world, made Xiang Qi realize the world wasn’t as simple as she once believed.

Turning into a girl in the blink of an eye—that couldn’t possibly be scientific, could it?

‘Look on the bright side, there are quite a few benefits,’ Xiang Qi consoled herself. ‘At least those people who caused Dad’s disappearance definitely won’t recognize me anymore.’

This undoubtedly made her safer.

She had already investigated; the identity information was real. There truly was a girl named Xiang Ran. Her social circle was incredibly simple, with almost no one able to speak to her outside of her parents.

She was someone completely unrelated to Chen Xuan’s family.

According to the records, the girl’s parents had died in a car accident six years ago, leaving her with a substantial inheritance.

This had further contributed to her reticent nature.

‘Excellent. A remarkably clean identity. As long as I eliminate this girl, I can seamlessly step into her life.’

Xiang Qi had never committed murder, but to ensure her own survival, she wouldn’t hesitate to do so.

With her immediate real-world concerns addressed, Xiang Qi could now focus her energy on the voice that had just appeared in her mind.

‘Game… what does it mean? A real game, or something akin to a Main God Space?’ She was certain this was a supernatural event; her current body was proof enough. What remained uncertain were the game’s purpose and mode, which were crucial in determining Xiang Qi’s subsequent actions and mindset.

To be honest, Xiang Qi had relied on her looks for many years; she understood the importance of appearance. Now that she possessed a body even more conducive to ‘eating on her looks,’ it should logically be a good thing.

However, all of this presumed an orderly environment. In a chaotic setting, it might instead bring more hardship.

There was nothing to be done about it; where in the world could one find a solution that satisfied all ends? When enjoying benefits, one inevitably had to accept their drawbacks; an absolutely advantageous situation simply didn’t exist.

She could accept this level of risk, but that didn’t mean Xiang Qi wouldn’t try to mitigate it.

Knowing was one thing; acting was another. Yet, without a single shred of information, Xiang Qi couldn’t make any effective arrangements.

Finally, she gathered some small items to carry with her, hoping they might prove useful and simultaneously testing the game’s mechanics. Xiang Qi also opened her laptop’s camera, pointed it at herself, and quietly waited for the game to begin.

Half an hour—a duration that felt both long and short—quickly passed. As the minute hand struck ten o’clock, Xiang Qi’s vision blurred, and she found herself in an empty street.

Subtly observing her surroundings, Xiang Qi noticed that besides herself, four other people stood there, while more than a dozen lay scattered on the ground. As for the street itself, it was utterly ordinary and common. With limited information, she couldn’t analyze the situation further for now.

She merely found the silence unnervingly profound. Aside from the few people present, no other sounds could be heard. Yet, this scene, brimming with signs of daily life, must have been created by people.

It was as if everyone had suddenly vanished.