Screw your challenge!" Li Ge shouted with everything he had, nearly roaring the word "End!"
The moment he spoke, the world blurred. His mind spun—and suddenly, he was back in his tiny, ten-square-meter rental room.
Then came the pain. A sharp, stabbing ache shot through his calf and abdomen, so intense it knocked him straight onto the bed. Alarmed, he pulled up his shirt to check for wounds—none. He rolled up his pants to look at his leg—still nothing.
He let out a shaky breath. It wasn't a real injury. The pain had followed him from the game, transferred through his nervous system. Even now, it still lingered.
After a few deep breaths, it finally faded. He quickly checked his phone: February 2, 2020, 10:31 AM. The exact moment he remembered getting up, finding the mysterious package at the door, and putting on the headset. Only fifteen seconds had passed in the real world… while ninety full days had gone by in that strange game.
A synthetic voice chimed from the headset. "Congratulations. You've completed the novice trial. You are now qualified for the official game. Evaluating your reward. Do not remove the headset, or the reward will be lost. Settlement complete. Based on your performance, you've received: Transcendent Mind. Transmitting reward. Do not remove the headset."
Then, agony.
A sharp jolt blasted from the helmet into his skull. His body seized up. It felt like his brain was being ripped apart. Screaming, Li Ge tried to tear the headset off, but it was stuck—like it had fused to his head.
It was worse than anything in the game. Unbearable.
He thrashed and twisted on the bed, until—just as suddenly—the pain vanished. He froze, breathless, then ripped off the headset and flung it aside like it was alive.
Minutes passed before he could breathe again.
Then he noticed something strange. The world felt… different. His thoughts were sharper, faster. Memories from the game—everything about Yue Anming, Cao Zhengyang, Xing Tianming—returned in vivid, photographic clarity.
He could close his eyes and see entire ledger pages, as if they were right in front of him. Every number, every name. Even more astonishing, he could remember all 90 days of the game in detail. Each diary he read, each moment, even what was written inside.
"Photographic memory?" he whispered, stunned. But no—it wasn't just memory. His thinking had changed. Problems he used to struggle with were now crystal clear. It was like his brain had been upgraded from dial-up to fiber-optic speed.
He blinked, still dazed, and spotted a book on his nightstand: What Is Quantum Mechanics, Really? It had been sitting there for years, untouched. He'd never managed to read it—not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't understand it.
He picked it up and began flipping through. Instantly, things made sense. Concepts that used to confuse him were suddenly clear. His brain recalled every bit of physics knowledge he'd ever seen, even from middle school.
It was like his mind had unlocked a secret library.
He flew through the pages, one glance per page, absorbing everything. In under a minute, he'd read dozens. His hands began to tremble. He didn't understand everything yet, but now he could. It was just a matter of time.
Li Ge stood there, heart pounding, body trembling.
Transcendent Mind wasn't just memory.
It was evolution.