Feng Yuhuai beamed with joy and said sweetly to Feng Mu, "Thank you, brother. Rest assured, I'll remember your kindness for a lifetime."
Feng Mu nodded silently.
Feng Ju looked at the harmonious scene of brother and sister and became satisfied. He spoke earnestly to Feng Mu, "It's good you understand. When you graduate from college, I'll use my connections at the Patrol Office to find you a job. Do it well then, and you can help support the family..."
The conversation that followed was of little significance, and the family tacitly avoided the subject of the "military exam qualification certificate."
A military exam qualification certificate is neither cheap nor expensive, roughly equivalent to five of the latest model watches.
But,
Knowing it's impossible to pass, why waste money for nothing? Better to save it for Feng Yuhuai. She has talent, and there will be many places needing money in the future.
Feng Ju had his own calculations, and he didn't feel he was wronging his son. His talent was what it was—that was his fate. Could he blame anyone else?
For a family to make something of themselves in Lower City, someone must bear the responsibility as the cornerstone, someone must become the family's hope for the future, and someone must silently sacrifice and contribute from the shadows.
Feng Mu could mostly guess his father's thoughts. He couldn't argue, so he quietly finished his meal and returned to his room.
The mother watched him go, several times wanting to speak but ultimately saying nothing.
The atmosphere at the dining table was slightly dull, but before long, the parents were coaxed into smiles by Feng Yuhuai's sweet talk.
The door closed.
Listening to the laughter of the family outside, Feng Mu sat at the desk, the black computer screen casting a shadow over his face.
After a while, Feng Mu let out a couple of self-deprecating cold laughs, his voice mixed with resentment.
Resentment was the last and deepest emotion left in this body by its original occupant.
The original resentment wasn't because the father favored the sister. After all, she was a genius, and he could understand the resources being tilted in her favor.
What the original couldn't accept was that whenever their father praised the sister, he had to demean him as well, as if he wouldn't showcase the sister's exceptional talent unless he was reduced to nothing.
In the father's eyes, spending 100 on the sister was a joy, but even a single cent spent on him merited a frown. Ultimately, even when spent, he had to remember and be grateful.
A waste of food, a useless breathing burden, the most worthless baggage of the family... these were the words the father often had in his ear.
Though these were facts, the original couldn't accept the father repeatedly tearing open his wounds.
The original's father seemed to want to completely erase his self-will through this method, as if such transformation could turn him from the family's waste to its vassal, to be sent out to work in the future, contributing to the family and repaying the kindness of nurturing.
However, the oppressive method was too rough and failed to consider the fragility of a youth's heart. After all, even the waste has self-respect. Therefore, on the day the university entrance assessment results came out, he quietly died alone in that little dark room.
When he opened his eyes again, he was Feng Mu, occupying another's nest.
Feng Mu himself bore no hatred because he was just an outsider occupying the shell. Without love, there'd be no hatred, and he only owed rent and food expenses.
He merely felt oppressed and unwilling, oppressed by the strangeness and indifference of this world, unwilling due to his own incompetence and uselessness.
Like a bird locked in a cage, wanting to soar but finding his wings too short and misshapen to bear the weight of flight or escape the confines.
Helpless in reality, all he could do was vent in the game.
Feng Mu clicked woodenly on the computer and initiated a single-player game.
This game was one he downloaded during the initial fear and confusion of his transmigration, not expecting to keep playing it intermittently for three years.
It was a game of building forces and simulating management.
The art style was eerie, the story wicked, and it allowed high freedom in exploration with unique gameplay.
The plot was a fantasy yet, faintly intertwined with many real-world shadows, including maps, countries, governments, agencies, environments, historical events, all feeling real in their mirroring of reality.
The key point is that the game's timeline started 30 years ago on March 14, 203.
The in-game time progresses at a rate of 10 to 1 compared to reality, meaning today is the day when the game's time overlaps with real-world time.
As a game heavily modeled on reality, Feng Mu was quite intrigued about how the plot would proceed once time synchronized~
Feng Mu logged into the game, glancing at the time display [March 14, 233, 22:47].
While the real-world time was [March 14, 233, 22:53]
In just a few minutes, the game time would catch up with reality.
Indeed, before long, accompanied by a deep BGM, the two times flickered and overlapped.
As the BGM faded, the screen turned into a silent film.
[On March 14, 203, you created the organization—Destiny!]
[On April 7, 203, you led the organization to slaughter a private merchant guild, seizing vast wealth and confidential information.]
[On June 13, 203, your organization first exposed itself to official forces and became wanted city-wide.]
[On November 11, 203, under your leadership, the organization raided a secret government institution in Zone 7. You acquired a list and the key to a hidden door, Destiny became wanted in Zone 7, labeled as an extremely evil force.]
[....]
[On April 9, 227, Destiny suffered a heavy blow, with part of its force going underground.]
[On February 15, 228, the organization restructured. Destiny became more hidden, terrifying, massive, leading the Upper City Council to issue an SSS-level extermination order.]
[...]
Since the game's start in 203, characters appeared, major events recapped, milestone achievements, with animation sliding across the screen.
Until [March 14, 233...] a line of subtitles dominated the center of the screen.
The BGM reemerged, a grand and stirring symphony.
"So, I did all these significant things in the game. What a pity it is just a game. If reality were the same, it would be nice, huh..."
As Feng Mu harbored such fanciful thoughts.
A familiar yet unfamiliar face slowly emerged from the screen's far side.
Unfamiliar, because this face was entirely different from Feng Mu.
Familiar, because this was the face Feng Mu crafted, recalling his previous life's face, representing his longing and emotional attachment to his past life—a full embodiment of his involvement.
Player Name—Feng Mu, the name of his former life, the identical sound but different characters in this world.
On screen, Feng Mu was dressed in a crisp suit, shining leather shoes, with an elegant and lethal posture, a black cane tapping on the marble floor, like an icy drumbeat responding to destiny.
The perspective zoomed out, revealing a giant round table, around which figures exuding terrifying auras sat, following him with awe in their gazes.
He walked toward the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing indifferently downward, the city's outline minuscule like dust. Amidst the clouds, black and purple lightning swayed, making him appear like a deity holding sway over destiny.
"Let it begin~"
Overlooking everything, he slowly uttered three words.
Thunder rumbled, the sky seemingly tearing open with wounds, pouring ink-black raindrops onto the land.
The scene stopped abruptly, covered by a line of red text on the screen.
[Every ending is also a beginning. When illusion and reality overlap, Destiny will awaken from its slumber. Awaken Destiny, player!]
"???"
"Damn, what does this mean, the screen's frozen; could it be I've finished the game?"
Feng Mu widened his eyes, his heart skipping a beat, fingers frantically clicking the mouse.
The screen remained unresponsive.
Feng Mu sat back in his chair, filled with emptiness, and after some time, he moved the mouse to close the game interface.
Ding—
The game window closed, but a line of subtitles suddenly appeared before Feng Mu's eyes, vivid like a mark on his retina.
Not right,
It wasn't like,
It exactly was!
[Player identity confirmed!]
[Feng Mu—Feng Mu has completed matching and binding!]
[Current world resource data error detected, correcting and loading…..10%.....50%....99%....]
[100%, loading complete!]
[Wishing the player a pleasant game!]
...
(ps: The earlier chapters were revised, some parts might feel unfamiliar, no choice as the censorship beast looms, please bear with it, things will pick up after chapter 30, getting really bloody.
This book isn't your typical story; most won't predict how the plot unfolds, and the protagonist's actions will align more with a boss, growing more thrilling as it progresses. Please be patient!)