Chapter 1: Reality
“Name.”
“Tang Mobai.”
“Gender.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had gender reassignment surgery, and I’m not wearing women’s clothes today either.”
“Be serious!”
“Male—of course I’m male.”
“Age.”
“Twenty. Just started my junior year.”
The black-haired, amber-eyed young man sighed, his slightly baby-faced cheek pressed against the desk as he drawled dramatically, “I’ve said this so many times already—do you really need to confirm these basic details over and over again?”
“Sorry, kid, we’re just following orders from above. Please wait a bit longer—the results should come out soon.”
The man in uniform across from him glanced at his watch every so often. Before long, a knock came from outside. A man in a suit walked in, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.
“Well? Did the results come out?”
“Of course.” The newcomer smiled, then pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs and snapped them onto Tang Mobai’s wrist.
“Tang Mobai, you are under arrest for endangering national security.”
“Finally!”
Tang Mobai let out a deep breath and, for the first time in days, showed a relieved smile. The exhaustion and gloom in his amber eyes vanished completely, replaced by a clear, unclouded brightness.
After that, Tang Mobai was escorted out of the interrogation room. A line of armed soldiers was already standing outside. They surrounded him tightly, concealing his figure, and quickly moved him into an armored vehicle.
The armored vehicle sped down the road. The moment it left the police station, several all-black cars silently surrounded it. At the same time, the roar of helicopters echoed overhead.
Pedestrians on the street looked up, visibly stunned for a second, “What’s going on? Are they transporting a death-row inmate? Do they really need that kind of formation?”
It was rush hour, yet the armored car didn’t encounter a single traffic jam or red light. It was as if an invisible hand had parted the chaos of the mundane world for it. Everything moved smoothly and naturally—drivers simply felt that traffic was unusually heavy today, unaware that the entire city had been cleared for one single vehicle.
Tang Mobai was still handcuffed, though he didn’t seem particularly uncomfortable. He sat between two fully armed soldiers. A young officer in uniform sat across from him with a notepad in hand, while another soldier pointed a gun directly at Tang Mobai’s head—at Tang Mobai’s own request, in fact.
“Let’s confirm your statement one last time. On September 9th, early morning, you were just sleeping in bed when you were suddenly dragged into a death game…”
“That’s right.” Tang Mobai’s thoughts drifted back three days earlier.
At that time, he’d just been an ordinary college student—spending his summer break gaming at home, occasionally fretting over internships and job hunting, and daydreaming about sudden wealth that would let him never work again.
Then, the “opportunity” arrived out of nowhere.
The Infinite World.
Of course, that wasn’t its official name—but Tang Mobai had read enough “infinite flow” novels to nickname it that. It was a system that forced participants to fight for their lives in different worlds, luring them in with the promise that if they survived, completed missions, and reached the top, they’d have everything they could ever want.
Half-asleep, Tang Mobai saw only the “reward” and forgot the trap.
As expected, though he’d fantasized countless times about becoming powerful after transmigrating, he was just an ordinary person. In the grand stage of infinite worlds—some fought with brute strength, some carried the team with intellect, some deceived NPCs with words, others survived through beauty.
But Tang Mobai was just a foolish, clueless college kid. He failed the very first trial world, barely escaping with his life—and when he woke up back in reality, he immediately turned himself in to the government.
“Mom! I suck! Come save me!”
*
When he stepped out of the armored vehicle, Tang Mobai looked up to find himself inside a massive underground base. The ground hadn’t sloped downward—so the base must have been built within a mountain. Artificial sunlight illuminated everything, glinting off metallic walls and machinery. Everywhere he looked, there were people in uniform—soldiers or staff, all busy at work.
The young officer who’d been with him the whole way explained, “Time’s tight, so we’re using the nearest secret base for now. Don’t worry—it has everything we need.”
Tang Mobai, nervous but obedient, nodded earnestly. “Of course, I’ll follow all national arrangements!”
“No need to be so tense.” The officer smiled and led him deeper into the base. Everyone they passed saluted. The place was heavily guarded—soldiers patrolled every few steps, weapons live and ready.
If it had been the old Tang Mobai, his knees would’ve been shaking—after all, just a few days ago, the closest he’d ever been to real guns was seeing armored cash trucks outside a bank.
Who would’ve thought that in just a few days, he’d already faced death multiple times—and now stood here.
They arrived at the office. Inside sat a middle-aged man who exuded quiet authority. Two soldiers stood nearby, and surveillance cameras were mounted in every corner.
Tang Mobai’s fragile calm collapsed again. His nerves spiked.
As soon as the door opened, the middle-aged man rose with a warm, Buddha-like smile that radiated trust, “Hello, hello. I’ve heard much about you. I’m Wang Yuanzhi, but please, feel free to call me Xiao Wang.”
Tang Mobai wiped his sweat. “N-no, you’re my senior. I’ll just call you Mr. Wang.”
Wang Yuanzhi chuckled, not insisting. He took Tang Mobai’s hand and gestured for him to sit.
“Then may I call you Mobai?”
“Whatever you like.”
“Well then, Mobai, I have many questions, but first—do we really need to keep a gun pointed at you?”
He glanced at the soldier behind Tang Mobai, who never left his firing range no matter how Tang moved. Once or twice, when the soldier lagged behind, Tang Mobai even slowed down so the muzzle could catch up—like he’d feel safer that way.
“Yes,” Tang Mobai said seriously. “We can’t violate the rules of Lost Paradise. If we do, something terrifying happens.”
He absentmindedly touched his earlobe, eyes downcast. “When I first joined a trial, a newcomer broke a platform rule—and vanished the next second.”
“Vanished?”
“Yes. Completely gone. As if they’d never existed.”
Wang Yuanzhi straightened slightly. “Aren’t you afraid of disappearing?”
“Of course I am. Terrified,” Tang Mobai said instantly, surprising Wang Yuanzhi.
“Then why…?”
“To be honest, it’s a bit of a self-deluding move. But compared to disappearing… I fear dying quietly even more,” Tang Mobai murmured. “If I die there, I’m just another missing person on a list. So I might as well take a gamble.”
“At least this way, you’ll remember us, right?”
He looked up and startled at Wang Yuanzhi’s serious expression, hastily waving his hands.
“Not that I know if this will even work. But hey, desperate times, right? Either way I’m dead—might as well try to be useful. Sorry, I’m just a really ordinary guy.”
“No. Taking that step makes you braver than most,” Wang Yuanzhi said gently. He looked up at the camera in the ceiling, seemed to get some silent cue, and asked, “Can I ask—what exactly is your [Id] talent?”
The term immediately evoked psychology. Indeed, Freud’s The Ego and the Id described how the id, ego, and superego formed the human psyche—the id being the primal, instinctual part driven by desire.
In short, one’s Id represented their truest, most primitive self.
Tang Mobai’s calm wavered again.
“Don’t worry,” Wang Yuanzhi assured him. “If it’s a useful talent, we can help develop it—to increase your survival rate. No matter what it is, we won’t abandon you. A blade can kill—but in the right hands, it can save.”
He seemed to think Tang Mobai’s talent was something dark or dangerous—but in truth, Tang Mobai was simply embarrassed.
“It’s… not really something impressive,” Tang Mobai muttered. “My Id is… [Troublemaker].”
“Hm? What?” Wang Yuanzhi blinked, thinking he misheard.
“You heard me. [Troublemaker]. But I swear I’m a good citizen! I scored over 90 in high school politics! Lost Paradise is slandering me! I’m not a troublemaker!”
All he did was report himself to the state when things went south—wasn’t that exactly what a responsible socialist citizen should do?! How could they smear him like this?!
Wang Yuanzhi glanced at the gun behind Tang Mobai and hesitated to comment.
The questioning went on for hours. Tang Mobai answered everything as best he could. When his exhaustion became obvious—dark circles under his eyes—Wang Yuanzhi finally said, “That’s enough for today. Thank you for your cooperation. The country won’t let your efforts go to waste. It’s late—get some rest.”
Tang Mobai left the room.
But the storm was only beginning.
Ever since the object he brought back from that supernatural world tested positive for a substance unknown to this reality, his data—and his entire existence—had been placed on the highest-level desks.
Even his conversation with Wang Yuanzhi hadn’t been private. Behind what seemed like an ordinary wall was one-way glass. Since he’d entered the base, every second had been under surveillance.
Dozens of psychologists watched his every expression, gesture, and word—building a behavioral model just for him.
“The so-called Lost Paradise… this infinite-world platform,” someone murmured over a stack of files, “So that’s why dozens of people have gone missing in just a few months.”
A special task force had been created to investigate the disappearances—but found nothing, until Tang Mobai stepped forward.
Only then did they realize—there was something far beyond human at work behind it all.
The Infinite Flow Platform. The Game of the Gods. The Otherworld.
It all sounded like something straight out of an online novel—yet it was happening in reality. The very foundations of belief and logic were shaken to the core, as both desire and fear stretched out their claws at once.
If they could obtain items from the Infinite Platform…
If unknown civilizations truly existed in those other worlds…
If this was all a trap, and their citizens were merely bait pushed forward by the unseen hands behind the platform…
So many ifs.
As Wang Yuanzhi sorted through intelligence reports, he was silently grateful that he wasn’t the one who had to make the final decision. The pressure was too enormous for one person to bear—one wrong thought could determine the fate of the nation, even the world.
Just three days ago, this base had been one of C Nation’s secret military installations. Wang Yuanzhi was its commander—reviewing similar documents every day, overseeing staff rotations. Unless war broke out, this base would likely have remained unchanged until his retirement.
Yet within twelve hours, the base had undergone a total transformation. Research equipment was relocated, personnel were reassigned, departments reorganized—all for one purpose, all for one person.
The preliminary preparations alone had burned through tens of millions of yuan—and that was only the beginning.
When a state machine fully awakens, every cog becomes part of its colossal will. And now, Wang Yuanzhi could already hear the storm approaching.
Author’s Note:
Hello everyone~ Shishi the slacker is back! ??
After almost three months, the new story has finally begun! It’ll probably be a long one (muah~).
As some of you might know (cough), I’m not particularly good at writing horror or mystery—I mean, once the nation becomes the protagonist’s golden cheat, it’s kinda hard to make things scary anymore ? So the focus this time is on a wild, imaginative worldbuilding setup: the protagonist gains “support” from the country, the government studies otherworldly artifacts to boost real-world power—it’s all about mutual growth and cooperation (????, lol).
The main character is a growth-type protagonist—he won’t be super OP right away.
Also, due to harmony reasons, the “country” in the story is a stand-in—please don’t link it to real life. If you’re fine with all that, enjoy reading~
