The forum didn't crash.
That was the strange part.
Chen Wei had been part of enough closed beta tests to recognize the signs—servers buckling, moderators panicking, pinned apology posts appearing within minutes. When something big happened, chaos usually followed.
This time, the forum remained perfectly stable.
Too stable.
He refreshed the page again, more out of habit than expectation. It was nearly midnight. His shoulders ached from sitting in the office all day, and tomorrow promised another round of meetings that would change nothing.
Then the pinned post appeared.
No animation.
No sound.
No countdown.
It simply existed at the top of the forum.
---
[System Notice]
Closed Beta Invitation Issued
Participants: 100
Confirmation Required
---
Chen Wei straightened.
"System notice?" he muttered.
The post had no username. No reply button. No moderation tag. It wasn't even clickable. It felt less like a forum message and more like something that had overwritten the page itself.
Below it, thousands of users were online.
And yet—no one spoke.
The silence lasted several seconds before private messages began flooding in.
Chen Wei's phone buzzed on the desk.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He picked it up.
---
> [System Message]
Beta Tester Selection: Confirmed
User ID: 017
Please remain available for delivery.
---
"Delivery?" Chen Wei frowned.
He checked the sender. There was no profile. No history. No way to respond.
Around him, his small apartment was unchanged. The hum of the refrigerator. The dim glow of the city outside his window. Everything ordinary.
A soft chime sounded.
Chen Wei froze.
The sound hadn't come from his phone.
It came from the door.
He approached cautiously and looked through the peephole.
The hallway was empty.
But something stood on the floor in front of his door.
A black capsule, tall and smooth, its surface seamless like polished obsidian. A thin blue line pulsed faintly along its side, slow and steady—almost like breathing.
"…You've got to be kidding me," he whispered.
His phone vibrated again.
---
> [System Message]
Game Cabin Delivered
Please enter to confirm participation.
---
Chen Wei stared at the capsule.
Normal people didn't accept mysterious devices delivered by unnamed systems in the middle of the night. Normal people called the police—or at least recorded evidence.
Chen Wei wasn't normal anymore.
He was tired.
Tired of being powerless.
Tired of managing simulated cities that vanished when the screen turned off.
Tired of knowing exactly how to fix broken systems and never being allowed to try.
He unlocked the door.
The capsule responded immediately. The blue line brightened.
---
[Identity Verified]
[Neural Compatibility: Acceptable]
[Sensory Feedback: Enabled]
---
The capsule opened silently, unfolding into a narrow chamber lined with dark, flexible material. No wires. No straps. No helmets.
Just space.
Chen Wei hesitated for exactly three seconds.
Then he stepped inside.
The capsule closed.
Darkness enveloped him.
A gentle pressure spread across his body—not painful, not restrictive. His heartbeat slowed instead of racing.
A line of text appeared directly in his vision.
---
[Closed Beta Test Initializing]
[World Sync in Progress…]
---
The sensation of falling came next—not physical, but conceptual. As if his awareness was being lifted out of one place and placed carefully into another.
Then—
Wind.
Cold air brushed against his skin.
Stone beneath his feet.
Chen Wei inhaled sharply, lungs filling with dust-scented air that felt undeniably real.
"This isn't VR…" he murmured.
He opened his eyes.
He was standing inside a ruined warehouse. Cracked stone walls surrounded him, moonlight filtering through gaps in the ceiling. Figures appeared one by one in flashes of faint light—men and women of different ages, roughly a hundred in total.
Some knelt.
Some cursed.
Some stared in silence.
A translucent interface appeared.
---
[Welcome, Beta Tester]
[World: ZeroWing City]
[Status: Summoned]
---
Before anyone could speak, the surroundings faded slightly.
Not vanished—paused.
Chen Wei found himself standing in a gray, boundless space. The warehouse became a blurred backdrop, like scenery behind glass.
A mirror appeared in front of him.
Not glass.
Not metal.
A perfect reflection formed of light.
---
[Character Initialization]
[Mortal Realm 1 – Body Tempering Lv.1]
[Base Attributes: Locked]
[Customization Available]
---
Chen Wei exhaled quietly.
"So stats are fixed," he said under his breath.
Good.
In simulation games, fixed starting conditions meant balance mattered more than min-maxing.
The reflection responded to intent.
When he focused on the face, it zoomed naturally.
He could adjust bone structure slightly. Height within realistic limits. Muscle definition—subtle, restrained. No exaggerated physiques. No glowing eyes. No fantasy races.
Just human.
Chen Wei softened the jawline, reduced the height by a fraction, chose a face that blended easily into a crowd.
Average.
Forgettable.
Perfect.
---
[Vocal Tone Adjustment Available]
---
He spoke a single word. "Test."
The sound echoed back.
He adjusted it slightly—calm, neutral, steady.
Another prompt appeared.
---
[Behavioral Baseline: Adaptive]
(Non-binding. Affects NPC initial perception only.)
---
"So this influences reactions, not control," Chen Wei murmured.
He accepted.
A final window appeared.
---
[Starting Equipment: None]
[Clothing: Basic]
---
No weapons.
No armor.
No handouts.
Chen Wei smiled faintly.
"This really is a survival sim."
The mirror dissolved.
The gray space folded inward like a closed blueprint.
---
[Character Creation Complete]
[Physical Sensation Enabled]
[Death Penalty Active]
---
The warehouse snapped back into focus.
Sounds rushed in—breathing, footsteps, whispered curses.
Around him, other players were reappearing, some flexing their hands, others touching their faces in disbelief.
"I can feel my pulse," someone whispered.
Another laughed nervously. "Why is this so real?"
Chen Wei didn't respond.
A final message appeared, visible to everyone.
---
[Notice]
Death is Enabled
Respawn is Enabled
Penalty Applies
---
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Outside the warehouse, something growled.
A scream followed.
Then silence.
Another message appeared.
---
[Death Recorded]
[Mortal Realm 1 Death → Energy Cost: 1]
---
Chen Wei clenched his fists.
"So death isn't free," he said quietly.
No one laughed.
Because everyone understood now.
This wasn't a game that forgave mistakes.
This was a system that charged for them.
A new window overlaid their vision.
---
[Task Issued – City Authority]
Objective: Secure the Outer District
Details: Eliminate nearby monsters, recover materials
Reward: Experience, Contribution
Warning: Death Penalty Applies
---
Chen Wei looked toward the warehouse exit.
In his previous life, simulation games had been his escape.
Now—
They were his reality.
And for the first time in decades, the work ahead felt meaningful.
"Alright," he murmured.
"Let's see how well this system holds."
Outside, the night of ZeroWing City waited.
And the beta test had truly begun.