Chapter 2: Information

Fang Qi’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

He hoped this wouldn’t make anyone question his professionalism as a psychiatrist.

The comments in the livestream room exploded in an instant.

“It’s here, it’s here! It finally started! I thought this stream was going to be canceled!”

“I just logged off to study, and then it started. I only missed a minute, right? Why is this scene so weird?”

“I think I’ve seen this case before. The last Player was a total coward, it was agonizing to watch. They spent the whole time groveling and didn’t even uncover half the plot. I can’t believe a newbie chose this Instance.”

“As we all know, this is a comedy game. You never know what kind of ridiculous way a Player will find to die.”

“Is this guy the Player this time? He seems kind of weak. It starts with school bullying? Can’t he just fight back later and win?”

“Read the Instance info properly. What ‘guy’? He’s just a poor NPC. How tragic.”

“A score of 92? I’m so jealous! Has there ever been a newbie with such a high score? Is she a girl? Could she be a forensic investigation expert?”

·

After a few heavy gasps, the young man finally snapped out of it, his trembling pupils focusing once more.

He swung his arm out roughly, aiming a slap to the side.

Qiong Cang released her grip a step ahead of him and backpedaled, narrowly dodging the blow.

The silence shattered. Screams erupted in the classroom, echoing down the hallway and alerting a teacher in the distance.

Rapid footsteps pattered as a group of people rushed over in a panic.

Qiong Cang’s emotions cooled again amidst the din, and she adopted an innocent expression that made her look more detached than anyone else.

“Are you crazy? You hit me?” The young man, Xu You, looked utterly incredulous.

Qiong Cang did not have much strength, and he was physically robust. Although the impact had sounded violent, the wound on his forehead did not actually hurt that much.

He reached up to wipe it. Sure enough, there was no blood, but he was still trembling with rage.

Out of the corner of her eye, Qiong Cang glanced at her character’s Suicide Progress.

“Wang Dongyan!” Seeing her lack of response, Xu You flew into a rage. He lunged forward and grabbed Qiong Cang by the collar. “What’s with that attitude!”

“Stop it, both of you!” A shrill, slightly hysterical middle-aged female voice cut him off. “What do you think you’re doing?”

A character prompt indicated that the newcomer was their Homeroom Teacher¹. Once it was clear that Qiong Cang had read it, the floating black text vanished.

Interrupted, Xu You’s fierce expression softened slightly. He pointed at Qiong Cang and accused, “She hit me!”

Seeing that no one was seriously hurt, the Homeroom Teacher calmed down, only for a wave of fury to take its place. She glared at the onlookers and barked, “You two, to my office! The rest of you, disperse! What are you doing? What is there to look at?”

It was early May, and the air conditioning in the office was already running, though the cool air did little to dispel the irritation in everyone’s hearts.

Qiong Cang remained silent, her gaze drifting around as she observed the expressions of the other teachers and the documents on the desks.

Xu You’s lips moved rapidly as he went over his feelings about being hit again and again, showing the Homeroom Teacher the red, swollen mark on his forehead.

Perhaps because Qiong Cang’s silence was too conspicuous under the circumstances, the sudden quiet that followed the end of Xu You’s rant filled the air with an awkwardness that could not be ignored.

The Homeroom Teacher and Xu You looked over at her together. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” the teacher asked.

Qiong Cang opened her mouth and calmly uttered three words: “It was an accident.”

The Homeroom Teacher tapped the desk with her finger. “You call that an accident?”

Qiong Cang frowned. “If him hitting my head with a ball was an accident, why can’t me hitting his head with my hand be an accident too?”

“Don’t play word games with me!” the Homeroom Teacher snapped.

Her gaze toward Qiong Cang was filled with deep disappointment. “What else do you want to do? Wang Dongyan, haven’t you caused enough trouble?”

Qiong Cang asked, “Are you disappointed in me?”

“What do you think?” the Homeroom Teacher replied.

Qiong Cang asked, “Why?”

“What do you think?!” the Homeroom Teacher said, growing agitated.

She refuses to give any plot information.

Qiong Cang paused, then said anyway, “He started it.”

The Homeroom Teacher said sternly, “His ball hitting you by accident and you deliberately slamming his head are two completely different things! Look at how you scared your classmates!”

“Everyone knows whether it was really an accident or not. The standard for determining an accident is hard to judge, but,” Qiong Cang said, “playing with a ball in the classroom is an established violation, isn’t it?”

The Homeroom Teacher was speechless with anger, because indeed, there seemed to be no way to refute that.

“This back-and-forth of yours is mutual combat², and neither of you is getting off easy!” the Homeroom Teacher said. “The two of you are cleaning the toilets for the rest of the month. If you keep fighting, you’ll be cleaning the toilets on the floors above and below too! I’m sure your underclassmen would be thrilled!”

Seeing that she couldn’t get any useful information out of the Homeroom Teacher, Qiong Cang gave a casual, “Oh.”

Xu You was not pleased – after all, it was common knowledge that the boys’ restroom was much dirtier than the girls’ – but he did not dare to object.

By the time they were allowed back to the classroom, class had already started. Qiong Cang sat down quietly and began organizing the mountain of exam papers and books piled on her desk. Beneath a curved gap in the stack, she found a small packet of orange-flavored hard candies.

Qiong Cang tilted her head slightly and scanned her surroundings, pausing when her gaze reached the window. A girl sat there, her features striking and distinct, the kind of face one would not easily forget. Among a crowd of poorly dressed, exhausted high schoolers, her beauty stood out so much it was as if Sanyao had automatically applied a high-end beauty filter to her.

Qiong Cang withdrew her gaze after a single glance, slipped her phone out of her pocket, and checked it under the desk.

There was a new text message on the home screen.

【Meet me at the supermarket to the left of the school sports field at 12:30. – Officer Zhou, Partner of Justice.】

Qiong Cang: “…”

What a weirdo.

She exited the main screen and began checking the saved messages on the phone.

·

Witnessing this, the netizens howled in the comment section. It was like watching a hardworking but terrible student gallop down the wrong path, a truly painful sight to behold.

“The first day of loading into the game is basically safe, but after that, all bets are off. This girl is totally wasting time. I can see her achieving the 【Dying Without Knowing Why】 achievement very soon.”

“You can’t do it like this. 【Earnest Advice】. There won’t be much direct evidence left on the phone anyway. How could it be that simple?”

“How is a Player supposed to get information if they don’t build a good relationship with the NPCs?”

“Is she really not going to talk to them to trigger the plot? She’s got attitude, but she’s too green.”

“I feel like she managed to offend every single NPC in five minutes. 【Sad Face】”

“Countless lessons have taught us that you can’t make any progress in this game if you have social anxiety. She won’t get any of the evidence needed to advance the plot.”

“A rating of 92? This is it? This is it??”

“The comment section is a massive display of overhyping.”

Fang Qi scrolled through the comments and let out a low chuckle.

His happiness was just that simple.

·

Next to the school supermarket was a dim corridor lit only by a few old incandescent bulbs. Although the air was humid, it was cooler than elsewhere. When the weather was hot, many students liked to hang out and eat here.

During the lunch break, Qiong Cang stood leaning against the wall, waiting for her partner of justice. She held a pack of spicy strips in one hand, a carton of yogurt in the other, and had a bag of potato chips tucked under her arm.

It was peak foot traffic hour, with an endless stream of students coming and going.

Qiong Cang was happily eating when a shadow fell over her. Xu You and his friends stopped in front of her, staring at her with complex expressions, perhaps trying to intimidate her with their presence.

Their eyes held undisguised anger, disdain, disgust, and even sympathy.

She… she had just been talking nonsense.

For a bunch of high school seniors who spent all their time buried in books, usually sporting either dead-fish eyes or lifeless stares, to be able to express such a rich range of emotions meant they were practically ready for the big screen.

Qiong Cang chewed her food, meeting his gaze with a faint, knowing smile.

Xu You wanted to say something, but faced with her bizarre reaction, the words caught in his throat. In the end, he could only spit out a parting threat that was as baffling as it was cliché.

“Wang Dongyan, you just wait!”

Qiong Cang was amused by his cowardice. “Then you’d better hurry. I don’t like waiting.”

Xu You and his friends stomped off in anger. Not long after, her partner of justice finally made his appearance.

He Jueyun had actually been watching her from the sidelines, observing her from the moment she showed up. He only stepped out from the shadows after Xu You and his group had gone.

Compared to Qiong Cang’s actual appearance, “Wang Dongyan” looked much more ordinary in the game. This confirmed his suspicion that Qiong Cang’s striking aura had nothing to do with her looks.

“Hello,” He Jueyun said with a friendly smile. “Have you been waiting long?”

Qiong Cang glanced at him. Her gaze swept over him in a flash without pausing, as if she were looking at any other inanimate object nearby. It was so brief that He Jueyun wondered if she had even looked at him at all.

That incredibly detached, intensely calm look made He Jueyun feel a sudden, unprecedented surge of tension.

He suddenly understood why his friend had been so tight-lipped about Qiong Cang. It was only natural for humans to remain wary of those they couldn’t read.

Her voice was just as flat, like a flatlining EKG.

“Player?”

“To be precise, I’m a Sanyao staff member acting as a free companion. Don’t worry, I don’t know anything I shouldn’t. I’m a fair player.” He Jueyun showed her his in-game ID, revealing his current identity. “Zhou Qi. Police officer.”

Qiong Cang said, “So you’re the one who was late today?” He had left her hanging in the simulator for half an hour.

“My apologies, a minor setback.” Although He Jueyun said the words, he didn’t look particularly sorry. He smiled. “I didn’t expect you to be having so much fun when the Instance has only just begun.”

Qiong Cang threw his own words back at him. “A minor setback.”

He Jueyun gestured in a direction, and the two of them walked toward a quieter spot.

Once he was sure they were out of earshot, He Jueyun asked, “So, does Wang Dongyan’s suicide have anything to do with those kids just now?”

“No,” Qiong Cang said.

“You’re that sure?” He Jueyun asked. “Is there no connection at all, or is it just not the primary factor?”

“No connection,” Qiong Cang said. “Whether they hit me or I hit them, whether the teacher interrogates me or I snap back at the teacher, my character’s suicidal ideation metric hasn’t budged at all. This indicates that Wang Dongyan’s desire to end her life has nothing to do with these trivial matters. Furthermore, I don’t have any noticeable physical injuries, which proves that their bullying is mostly minor squabbling. Serious violence isn’t a regular occurrence.”

He Jueyun nodded.

He realized that Fang Qi had been right. This woman was even calmer than he had anticipated, and standing beside her brought a strange sense of peace to his own mind.

A person like this could either make you feel incredibly safe, or fill you with absolute dread.

“Just brainstorming here, what do you think could cause a mass suicide like this?” He Jueyun asked, before answering his own question. “Cult-like brainwashing.”

Qiong Cang chimed in, “Violent oppression.”

“A chain reaction triggered by extreme environmental stress,” He Jueyun suggested.

“Brain lesions caused by parasites or drugs,” Qiong Cang countered.

“Or they could simply all be murders,” He Jueyun said.

“Not a bad guess.” Qiong Cang nodded, offering a rare word of approval. “It’s best to approach the problem with that kind of inquisitive mindset.”

He Jueyun was caught off guard by the sudden praise. “…Thanks.”

“So,” he asked, “do you have any clues to share with me?”

“Not yet.” Qiong Cang walked over to a trash can to discard her wrappers. “I want to know about the first two students who committed suicide.”

“Where do you want to start?” He Jueyun asked.

“How about when Pangu created the universe³?” Qiong Cang replied.

He Jueyun failed to react for a moment. In his mind, she was the last person who would ever make a joke. Consequently, his brain stalled in sheer confusion after she spoke.

Qiong Cang turned back to face him. “The locations and times of the suicides.”

She was so calm and nonchalant that it was as if everything that had just happened was merely He Jueyun’s illusion.

He Jueyun snapped out of it and pointed ahead. “The place where they jumped is just up ahead.”

Qiong Cang followed his gaze.

The building was situated in an awkward, nondescript location, and its height was neither particularly tall nor short. Tucked between the dormitories and the academic area, it was hidden behind a small convenience store. It was an old dormitory building, one the school had long hesitated to renovate or rebuild due to a lack of funds.

Because the building’s plumbing and electrical systems frequently malfunctioned, very few students actually lived there. Later, First High School set it apart, allowing students who wanted single or double rooms to apply to live there.

It was a co-ed dormitory.

Qiong Cang looked up at the rooftop, then glanced at the neighboring buildings before suddenly asking, “Would someone who wants to commit suicide care about a sense of ritual?”

He Jueyun turned his head. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nothing,” Qiong Cang said. “I just mean, why this building of all places?”

He Jueyun fell silent.

“Which building did students jump from in previous years?” Qiong Cang asked. “Were there any cases?”

“According to past records, it was the building behind this one, known as the Yunxiao Building. Ever since it was built, most students who wanted to commit suicide chose that spot. Even students from neighboring schools have come here specifically for it.” He Jueyun pointed toward the top half of a building visible in the distance. “That’s also the tallest dormitory building in First High School. It has an elevator.”

“If it were me, I would choose the building with the highest fatality rate.” Qiong Cang gestured to estimate the height of the old building. “There’s a bicycle shed right below this one. Setting aside the damage to other people’s property, the roof of the shed could cushion the fall and leave you half-dead. That’s the worst-case scenario. It doesn’t make sense for five people in a row to choose this place to commit suicide. Unless they share some special connection.”

“The first victim died in February of this year, right before winter break. At the end of March, the second victim jumped. Then came Wang Dongyan. Right now, we are less than a week away from Wang Dongyan’s scheduled suicide,” He Jueyun said. “So far, the police haven’t found any significant connection between the three suicides. I only have information on these three for now; the details of the subsequent victims won’t unlock until after you ‘commit suicide’.”

He paused to recall, then continued, “I went through the police records and files. If we absolutely have to find a connection, the first and second victims were from the same hometown, and the second victim was Wang Dongyan’s roommate. The first victim and Wang Dongyan had a mediocre relationship and barely interacted. Since the police didn’t suspect foul play at the time and treated them as ordinary suicides, only these scattered pieces of information were recorded.”

Qiong Cang nodded. “I see.”

He Jueyun curled his lips into a smile. “I heard you’re really good. Does that mean I can ride your coattails and breeze through this scenario?”

Qiong Cang smiled at that. “You can try.”

This was the first time He Jueyun had seen her smile. Before he could fully register it, Qiong Cang had already turned and walked away. He quickly caught up.

They walked in silence for a while. Qiong Cang didn’t say a word, and He Jueyun assumed she was deep in thought about the case.

Suddenly, Qiong Cang stopped in her tracks. “The girls’ dormitory is just ahead,” she said. “You can stop here, creepy middle-aged uncle⁴.”

He Jueyun: “…?!” At his age, he was a young man at most, damn it.

This girl had clearly never been humbled by the power of money⁵.

Translator’s Notes