A Nihilist’s Midnight Game

“But I’m not your boyfriend, Sister Lin.”

“…”

“Go to hell! Xiao Ran is the worst!!!”

“…”

****

As night deepened.

After finishing his ablutions, Chen Ran, now clad in his pajamas, retreated to his room on the third floor.

The small room was modest, having been converted from an attic previously used for storing miscellaneous items. Beyond a bed, it contained only a desk and a simple wardrobe.

A computer sat atop the desk, its solitary presence marking the only other item of note.

It was hardly surprising.

When Chen Ran had transmigrated to this world, he had brought nothing but the clothes and shoes in his backpack and suitcase.

Pushing open the window.

Chen Ran noticed the world outside was shrouded in an oppressive gloom, rendering almost everything invisible.

The quietly slumbering old street was likewise plunged into profound darkness, broken only by the occasional whisper of the sea breeze.

The tranquil night, paradoxically, offered a profound sense of calm.

So Chen Ran mused.

Having been in this world for over two months, he still found himself somewhat unaccustomed to it.

Or rather, utterly at a loss.

Chen Ran realized he had nothing to do here; before his transmigration, his daily life revolved around diligent study, striving for self-improvement, and aiming for a good university.

Yet, unexpectedly, he no longer even had to attend school.

In truth, he still had to go.

The matter of his schooling had been resolved recently, and now he merely awaited the admission notice.

However, unlike his previous parents, Jiang Ruohua (the “mother” of Jiang Zilin and Jiang Lengleng) had no demands regarding his studies, even going so far as to say he needn’t attend school if he didn’t wish to.

After all, Jiang Zilin hadn’t gone either.

‘Hmm.’

Chen Ran couldn’t quite tell if this was a good thing or not.

He didn’t dwell on it much.

Chen Ran believed in taking things as they came, for having transmigrated to this world, he was already “here to stay.”

There was no going back.

Since there was nothing else to do, living well was perfectly acceptable.

He, for his part, had no need for things like the meaning of life; while some might require it, he was simply not one of them.

To live was simply to live, to make the best of each passing day.

Back in his school days, a serious classmate once labeled him a “cold nihilist.”

Chen Ran’s reply to this was:

[If you say so, then it is. It makes no difference to me anyway…]

****

Lying back on his bed.

Chen Ran extinguished the room’s light, allowing the space to merge with the deepening night.

He then fumbled for his phone, checking the time.

It was precisely midnight.

With practiced ease, Chen Ran unlocked his phone with his fingerprint and tapped open a peculiar application named “King’s Game.”

Its icon depicted a pink eye with strange heart patterns within, looking suspiciously like something a succubus might possess…

This was certainly not a legitimate application.

Chen Ran recalled that the app had automatically installed itself on his phone the very first time he had pulled it out after transmigrating to this world.

Upon opening it.

[The busy day has finally come to an end!]

[You’ve worked diligently today as well!!]

[Congratulations, you’ve received Reward Point *1]

With a tap of his finger, these prompts sequentially vanished, revealing the app’s main interface.

The interface was remarkably rudimentary.

It resembled an old-school game’s character panel.

[Character Name: Chen Ran]

[Age: 17]

[Gender: Male]

[…]

Beyond these fundamental details, there were five core attributes: [Strength], [Intelligence], [Reaction], [Spirit], and [Endurance].

The newly acquired reward point could be used to enhance these basic attributes.

Alternatively, points could be saved to exchange for special skills within the app’s store.

For instance, [Hypnosis], [Invisible Man (TL Note: Refers to the ability to turn invisible)], [Quick Draw], [Grasp of the Undying], [Lethal Tempo], [Infinite Firepower (TL Note: A gaming term implying unlimited resources or abilities)], [Time Stop]…

And so on.

As a transmigrator from the twenty-first century, Chen Ran quickly grasped that this was his “golden finger” (TL Note: A common trope in Chinese web novels, referring to a special cheat or power granted to the protagonist) after crossing over.

Moreover, it was straightforward.

Essentially, as long as he “worked” each day—which encompassed tasks like manning the convenience store, helping Sister Lin wash dishes or clean rooms, tutoring Sister Lengleng in her studies, and so forth—

He would earn reward points.

Chen Ran speculated this mechanism was akin to some sort of “worker system.”

‘Probably.’

The advantage was that consistent daily “work” guaranteed reward points, which could then be used to augment his personal attributes or saved to exchange for potent skills.

As for now.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chen Ran allocated today’s reward point to [Endurance] among his five core attributes.

He brought it up to 10 points, matching the other four attributes: [Strength], [Intelligence], [Reaction], and [Spirit].

He wasn’t hoarding reward points to exchange for those seemingly impressive skills.

Chen Ran had already learned his lesson.

The skills in this app’s store all appeared enticing, with some descriptions instantly recognizable as standard abilities found in ero-anime or hentai manga.

Abilities like hypnotizing others and altering reality.

Or directly ordering “delivery” of schoolgirls or married women via phone.

The power to turn invisible, or to stop time while moving freely…

But in reality, they were all scams!!

Chen Ran had previously saved up nearly a month’s worth of reward points to exchange for the [Invisible Man] skill in the store.

Only to discover.

After activating the skill, he did indeed become invisible.

However, he would instantly reappear after a few seconds because his [Spirit] attribute was insufficient to sustain the skill’s continuous activation.

Furthermore, the skill required constant upgrading; otherwise, its effect remained negligible. For instance, a Level 1 [Invisible Man] skill, while rendering him invisible, would still obscure the scenery behind him.

Which meant…

People could actually discern a peculiar black silhouette under the light.

It had inexplicably transformed from a lewd skill into a horror skill, for crying out loud!!!

Exchanging for one skill cost roughly 30 reward points.

Upgrading it required 60 points…

Chen Ran had been in this world for a little over two months, including the initial period when he didn’t understand how to use the app.

By now, he had likely only accumulated just over fifty reward points in total.

Consequently.

He had spent more than half of them on a temporarily useless skill.

Regret, he knew, was futile, so Chen Ran had resolved that, no matter what, he would prioritize maxing out his basic attribute points first.

After all, he could only accumulate one reward point per day.

Rather than saving for several months to upgrade a skill, it was better to add one attribute point daily for tangible, immediate improvement.

With these thoughts.

Chen Ran’s five core attributes now all stood at 10 points, though he had no idea how this compared to an average person.

He only remembered.

His initial [Strength] had been 2 points, meaning it had increased fivefold?

He also wondered if there was a cap to attribute points; surely they couldn’t be raised to hundreds or thousands?

What would he become then?

Chen Ran had no answers, but he figured he’d keep adding points for now.

If his attributes ever became saturated, he could always save points for skills.

With these simple thoughts.

Chen Ran closed his eyes, slowly drifting into slumber.