Chapter 55: Either Poor or Provocative

Although Ye Chao had absolute confidence in the helmet, he lacked the eloquence to convey it. He spent considerable effort persuading Fang Ju, even going so far as to dramatically dismantle the helmet for inspection, before finally convincing him to enter the game.

The greatest difficulty was, in fact—a certain someone’s skull was simply too square. The round helmet wouldn’t fit, and even when forced on, the contact was faulty...

Had Ye Chao not been the designer, or lacked the ability to work in a data space, this technical hurdle would not have been solved so quickly...

==========

Once the helmet was on, a world unfolded before his eyes!

A world for one.

Fang Ju raised his hand, lifted his leg, executed a set of military boxing moves, scrutinizing the virtual body and feeling its nearly indistinguishable feedback.

It was both familiar and foreign.

Familiar, because of his weekly hour of machine time.

Foreign, because in the computer lab, most sessions involved no physical body.

He only needed to browse the structure, composition, microscopic forms, and deformation under pressure of fantasy objects—those parts that the naked eye could not directly observe. What mattered was the perspective, not the body.

Even when browsing himself, to activate physical power, it would not be like scenes from “Cells at Work,” at best more akin to “Spore.”

Just as he was curiously experimenting—

“Do you remember the young wolf you saved across time, only to bury it by your own hand?
Do you remember the look in the eyes of the hero you revered as they fell at your feet?
Those you saved all became the living dead in the end.
Those who helped you...”

In midair, strange yet eerily compelling words, carrying an inscrutable aura, drifted ethereally, as if summoned from the clouds.

At the same moment, a figure of breathtaking beauty, almost at the limits of imagination, materialized gracefully in the clouds—like a goddess descending to earth. Those fierce eyes, those legs, that figure... and certainly not merely three inches.

“Whistle—” Fang Ju let out a loud whistle: Wearing something so provocative—is this the secret to racking up points, or the recipe for destruction?

Provocative? Provocative? Provocative!... Was it that word?

The dramatic opening was abruptly cut short; Alpha Princess’s flowing movements froze, her polite smile edged with irritation: “You—you—you dare call me provocative?”

[Fang Ju’s affection drops another -100]

“Isn’t it provocative? That sharp face, those indecent clothes, bare shoulders, bare legs.” Fang Ju eyed Alpha Princess warily, unmoved by her beauty.

This was a generational gap!

If players from the previous era entered a game and found the opening CG character greeting and speaking directly to them, most would be so startled they’d quit immediately.

Yet, children raised after the Catastrophe, rarely influenced by games, didn’t recognize the trope and found nothing strange.

Not—not—indecent?

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Sharp, sharp, sharp face, exposed arms and legs... Is that what counts as provocative? Do you even understand what the word means?

“If it’s not provocative, then is it poverty? Can’t afford decent clothes?”

Poverty? Poverty... poverty!

A double strike!

(￣┰￣*)

[Fang Ju’s affection drops another -100]

His affection plummeted toward -500, his recklessness nearly rivaling Ye Chao’s—it’s no wonder they’re good friends...

In truth, Fang Ju’s harshness was not entirely his fault—it was a gulf of the times.

Alpha Princess’s outfit was not truly provocative, certainly tamer than most cosplay at conventions or auto shows.

But now was not before the Catastrophe, but after. Before, with industrial abundance and surplus, people wore whatever they pleased, in any color or shape they fancied...

Scarcity breeds value; abundance breeds contempt.

To stand out and express individuality, people wore less and less, using fewer and fewer materials...

After the Catastrophe, clothes could no longer be tossed or replaced so freely. Scarcity made them precious, and clothing styles changed fundamentally.

Basically, to wrap oneself impermeably against wind and rain became a sign of wealth and well-being—akin to flaunting luxury cars, mansions, watches, and handbags.

To wear so little meant either poverty or provocation...

In a world of holographic projection, it could only signal provocation.

It’s like watching old Hong Kong movies decades later; at the time, a one-piece swimsuit was considered revealing, but before the Catastrophe, vacationing at the beach, certain bikini styles would seem conservative...

Alpha Princess lunged, eager to pummel Fang Ju through three lifetimes and ten miles of peach blossom!

“Don’t stop me! Don’t stop me! Beware, I’ll turn against you!” She struggled, flailed, and thrashed; only Ye Chao’s formidable will managed to restrain the near-berserk Alpha Princess and keep the plot on course.

But... “You may restrain my body, but can you restrain my heart?” Alpha Princess sneered, snapped her fingers, and the world before Fang Ju shifted.

Ahead lay the shadow of a ruined town.

A squad of soldiers in camouflage, armed with long rifles and looking exceptionally sharp, charged toward him. Their formation seemed chaotic but moved with fluid precision: “Go! Go! Go!” “Follow Me!” “Get In Position!”...

Suddenly, a warning rang out: “Enemy Spotted!”

“Sh-sh-sh-sh...” Six or seven rifles were simultaneously raised, their dark muzzles aimed at Fang Ju.

“Don’t shoot, I...” Fang Ju knew the power of guns, instinctively trying to stop them.

Impossible!

“Tat-tat-tat!” B31.

“Rat-tat-tat!” B43.

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“Thump-thump-thump!” B41.

“Thump... thump...” B13.

“Duang!” B21.

“Thump!” B45.

“Fire in the Whore!” B83.

Six or seven guns blazed at once, fired with Alpha Princess’s deep resentment.

In an instant, Fang Ju was riddled with bullets, torrents of blood, shattered and torn apart.

Fang Ju, dead.

Is that the end?

Of course not; how could a game world grant only one life? Even in expert mode, a character could be rebuilt.

So, in the very next second, Fang Ju was reborn.

The same familiar body, the same familiar town, and a not-so-familiar pain that ran from the roots of his hair to his heels—not quite heart-gouging, but certainly bone-crushing!

This game’s pain setting was a bit high...

Before Fang Ju could recover, “sh-sh-sh...” chaotic footsteps echoed from the town.

His face changed, and he scrambled to hide, rolling and crawling to a concealed corner.

Though seamless resurrection was possible, no one wanted to die if they could avoid it—especially not in such painful ways...

He reacted swiftly, moved nimbly, and managed to hide before the enemies appeared.

Yet, his joy lasted less than two seconds, as a languid, alluring voice sounded: “No one escapes my gaze!”

Completely unaware of what happened, “whoosh...” a strange, backpacked gorilla descended from the sky, “thump!” landed with a shockwave, sending Fang Ju flying, right into view.

“I see you all! Rat-tat-tat!”

“Noon has come! Thump-thump-thump!”

“Some guy’s unzipping my pants! Sh-sh-sh-sh!”

“Molten Core! Duang-duang-duang!”

“Justice rains from above! Boom-boom-boom!”

In less than a second, Fang Ju died again.

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