004 System and "Shadow War"

In Hong Kong, 1999, Li Daniu appeared in a deserted alley.

“Your Majesty, you have now entered the movie world of ‘Running Out of Time.’ Your stay will last three months. Please ensure your own survival during this period.”

Li Daniu was still marveling at the king’s seal he had inherited, inside which was a system that could send him into movie worlds—and now, as he realized, it truly could. He hurriedly asked the voice in his mind, “I have to ensure my survival? Does that mean if I’m in danger, I can’t just teleport back?”

“Your Majesty, your current stay is limited to three months. This journey began thirty seconds ago. If you wish to return to the real world, you must wait three months for the portal to open. Should you die unexpectedly, what returns after three months will be your corpse.”

“The real world?”

Could he return to the Great Celestial Empire? Li Daniu imagined swaggering back home with this movie traversal system and asked, “Which real world?”

“Your Tuvalu. Additionally, if Tuvalu is destroyed, this system will revoke its binding.”

“So if Tuvalu falls while I’m in a movie world, does that mean I’ll be trapped here forever?”

“First, time flows differently in the real and movie worlds. No matter how long you stay here, the time elapsed in reality will not exceed the run time of the film. Typically, a movie lasts about two hours, so you needn’t worry about Tuvalu perishing in that span.

Second, the energy this system provides can only support a three-month stay. Once depleted, the rules of this world will crush you. So you needn’t worry about being trapped forever.”

Did I ever say I was worried about being stuck here forever? Li Daniu had thought of declaring Tuvalu’s end before entering a movie, but the system’s cold logic dashed his hopes.

“If I get hurt but don’t die, will I be healthy and whole when I return?”

“Because your entire being traverses worlds, any injuries or illnesses will remain when you return. Also, a reminder: there are still incurable diseases in your world, such as cancer and AIDS…”

“Stop, stop, don’t jinx me.” Li Daniu walked out of the alley, asking, “Can you heal me? Do I need to complete tasks or earn achievement points?”

“No. Aside from facilitating traversal and manifesting your gains in reality, the system offers no other services.”

This system is really feeble. Other traversal systems let you level up and cheat after a few easy tasks. With mine, I have to rely on myself.

“Is there a limit to what you can manifest? If I inject myself with super-soldier serum in the Captain’s world, will I have his abilities in the real world?”

“This system’s manifestation power has limits, but so far, there is nothing in the movie worlds I’ve scanned that I cannot manifest. Be warned, however, that directly injecting the serum carries significant risks, including side effects and potential death. Based on my analysis, your chance of successfully absorbing the serum is 0.8%.”

“How do you know that? I’m much stronger than Steve Rogers was before he got the serum.”

“My scanning methods are beyond your intelligence. Don’t be discouraged: in the Captain’s world, only he successfully absorbed the full serum. Even the batch of veterans who took a diluted version—only the Winter Soldier recovered, while countless others died in the experiment.”

Fair point. Out of seven billion people, only one Captain emerged. The Winter Soldier’s batch was given a diluted serum, and only he survived; who knows how many died.

Li Daniu left the alley and began observing his surroundings. It was an ordinary street, with few high-rises—after all, this was 1999 Hong Kong. After two blocks, he finally found a bustling crowd, located a newsstand, bought a stack of newspapers, and set off to find a hotel.

“So, how do I choose which movie world to enter?”

“You cannot choose. Every real-world month, you will be randomly transported to a movie world, selected from all the films you have watched. Once a year, you have the right to refuse a traversal.”

“What if I make my own movie in reality and watch it—will it be entered into the system?” The thought excited him: he could film a harmless elixir that grants power over superhumans, set it to be discovered three years later, then cross over and take it himself—wouldn’t he be invincible?

“Any film you directly participate in—investing, directing, acting, writing—will be filtered out.”

So much for cheating the system. Otherwise, Li Daniu would have shouted to the world, “I defy the heavens!”

“Can you upgrade?”

“Yes, but only by improving the quality of life for Tuvalu’s citizens. The final standard is at this system’s discretion. Upgrades will only extend your stay in movie worlds and increase the volume of items you can bring back. No other functions will be enhanced.”

Li Daniu sighed. If he wanted to defy fate through the system, he’d have to work hard for it.

He found a hotel. The system had arranged his identity as an American journalist. According to the system, whenever he entered a movie world, he’d play a minor, irrelevant role unconnected to the plot. The $10,000 he’d brought along had been materialized as legal tender in this world.

Once in his room, Li Daniu began reading the news. He needed to know where the story of “Running Out of Time” had progressed.

“Running Out of Time” was a Hong Kong crime thriller released in 1999—a classic, with never a dull moment. Andy Lau, one of the leads, won his first Best Actor award for this role.

Andy Lau played a master thief with a terminal illness. In his final month, he sought revenge for his father, Peter Zhang, stealing back a priceless necklace from his father’s treacherous apprentice.

With the help of Sean Ho, a former SWAT team captain turned negotiator played by Sean Lau, he sent his father’s betrayer to prison.

What struck Li Daniu most—besides Andy Lau’s dramatic transformation into a woman—was the fate of the necklace. The thief gave it to a random woman he fancied, without revealing its true value. When Sean Ho eventually noticed the missing necklace around her neck, he told her it was a fake.

Thus, a necklace worth at least twenty million dollars on the black market was worn by a woman who thought it was a trinket. If it went to a formal auction, who knows how much more it would fetch.

For someone like Li Daniu, who’d been a nobody just days before, this movie—safe in comparison—was still full of deadly dangers. The criminals, though foolish compared to the protagonist, still carried guns and weren’t afraid to use them. Li Daniu had no intention of getting involved in the plot. If he got himself killed, he’d never enjoy a good life again.

After much thought, he realized the only benefit to be had was the necklace at the story’s end.

Since the $10,000 he brought had materialized here, if he acquired the necklace, it should also manifest in reality.

“System, if I bring a necklace back, is there any problem?”

“First, the necklace’s volume cannot exceed twice your own. Second, when you return, you must be in direct contact with it, and it must not have any contact with anyone else in this world.”

Relieved by the answer, Li Daniu couldn’t help but joke—what kind of necklace would be twice the size of his 188cm, 80kg body? For King Kong?

After reading the papers, Li Daniu found that outside of a bank robbery involving a police officer, there was no news about a financial company being robbed. The film opens with such a bank robbery, introducing Sean Lau’s negotiator.

This meant the plot had already started. As Li Daniu wondered how to get the necklace from the random woman, he saw a newsflash on television:

“A financial company has been robbed by an armed suspect. The police and SWAT have surrounded the suspect, who is holding a client manager hostage. Negotiations are ongoing. Reportedly, the suspect is acting alone…”