Chapter 20: Can You See Me?

Chapter 20: Can You See Me?

This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation

Sumer was known for his unwavering dedication throughout his life. As a child and later as an adult, he consistently maintained his position among the top five students in his class due to his exceptional academic performance.The debut release of this chapter happened at Ñòv€l-B1n.

His routine involved rigorous studying and a part-time job after school hours. Sumer’s aspirations were modest yet clear-cut; he aimed to complete his education and secure a position at a well-respected company. His primary motivation was to earn a sufficient income to help ease the financial struggles faced by his family.

While Sumer was still in the midst of his studies, he would often daydream about his impending professional career. However, one particular incident abruptly interrupted his train of thoughts.

With a sudden shift in tone to a more chilling one, Gao Ming addressed Sumer, “I’m asking you a question. What did you hear?” This unexpected change in demeanor caused Sumer to tremble with fear. He had just been lost in a moment of reflection about his future, a typical occurrence for someone of his age and position.

“Nothing,” Sumer replied hastily, shaking his head. “I didn’t hear anything!”

Gao Ming issued a stern warning, “Don’t be curious about things you shouldn’t be,” as he imposingly stood in the doorway. “This world is more complex than you can imagine. Make sure you head home early in the evening and avoid working too late.”

“Understood, understood,” Sumer responded quickly. He grabbed his electric scooter helmet and hurriedly left the scene, moving even more swiftly than before.

Panting heavily, Sumer rushed into the elevator and frantically pressed the button to close the doors. As the metallic doors of the elevator sealed shut, he allowed himself a moment of relief.

“The workplace is terrifying,” he muttered to himself.

Inside the well-air-conditioned building, Sumer wiped the sweat off his forehead and stood in a corner of the elevator. Nearby, two men, one tall and the other short, were engaged in a hushed conversation.

“Did you hear? Two nights ago, a programmer who was working late on the 11th floor passed away suddenly. His colleague, mistaking him for asleep, continued to work beside him before realizing the grim truth,” one man said.

“That’s horrifying. The gaming industry’s competitiveness is reaching extreme levels. The little we earn isn’t even sufficient to cover medical expenses,” the other replied.

“There’s something even more chilling,” the shorter man added in a lowered voice. “A friend of mine said that last night, as he was leaving, he noticed someone still working and decided not to turn off the lights. Then, that person, with their back turned, said something eerie—’It’s okay, I can see even without the lights.'”

“Goodness, was it the spirit of the programmer who died unexpectedly?”

“I can’t be sure! But my friend was totally shocked. He later saw that person sitting at the deceased programmer’s desk, staring at a computer screen filled with incomprehensible symbols.”

As the elevator came to a halt and the two men exited, Sumer was left alone, his mind racing with the eerie tale he had just overheard.

Gao Ming knew the team well. “They don’t say it, but they actually have a lot of affection for Nightlight.” He was familiar with the studio’s history and its past achievements.

Wei Dayou, filled with determination, declared, “This time, we must fight a beautiful battle for revival!” He showed no signs of leaving, which caused Gao Ming some concern.

“Dayou, let everyone go home and rest. It’s too late,” Gao Ming suggested.

But Wei Dayou was resolute. “Not going home today! We men are going to fight!” He took a sip of his coffee and returned to his workstation, embodying a spirit of defiance.

Looking at the increasing download numbers for the trial version, Gao Ming knocked on the storeroom door. “Xuan Wen, are you feeling any better?” he asked with concern, indicating his awareness of the toll the situation was taking on her.

When Gao Ming received no response, his concern escalated. Cautiously, he cracked open the storeroom door, only to be greeted by a scene of eerie distortion. The room was shrouded in darkness, with large, unsettling shadows flickering like sinister, ghostly flames.

“Xuan Wen?” he called out tentatively.

Within this haunting environment, he found Xuan Wen, a woman usually impeccably dressed for her professional role, now enveloped in these dark, dancing shadows. Her eyes were firmly shut, and her skin was marred by thin, pitch-black veins that emerged like sinister chains. One end of these veins seemed to be rooted in the shadows themselves, while the other end was intricately woven into her body.

Gao Ming couldn’t help but draw a parallel. “This looks a bit like the chains between Zhao Xi and me.” Zhao Xi, transformed into a malevolent spirit by forces from an unknown world, possessed eerie and terrifying powers. His memories, regrets, and obsessions had materialized into similar black, chain-like veins that bound both him and Gao Ming, marking a haunting connection.

Zhao Xi, unlike Xuan Wen, was a real person with a connection to the tangible world. Xuan Wen, however, was a creation of Gao Ming’s, existing without a real-world anchor. Yet, as over ten thousand people came to know of her through the game, these ominous black veins also began to manifest within her.

Gao Ming mused, “Belief makes it real; disbelief does not. The emotional impact is what keeps urban legends alive in people’s hearts. That explains why these spirits thrive on spreading fear.”

He stepped closer to Xuan Wen, his gaze fixated on her pale neck. There, all the newly emerged veins converged, forming a chain-like entity that seemed to embody the core of her obsessions and memories.

Gao Ming faced a critical decision: destroying this chain could either send Xuan Wen back to the shadow world in a comatose state or cause her to lose control entirely. Alternatively, connecting the chain to himself might grant him the ability to harness her powers.

Confronted with the choice of either “killing” Xuan Wen or “dominating” her, Gao Ming hesitated. Ultimately, his hand didn’t go for the chain but instead picked up the unopened milk tea lying next to Xuan Wen.

Acknowledging the complexity of consciousness, he thought, “It’s tough enough to gain self-awareness. It would indeed be too cruel to depart without experiencing anything good.” He opened the milk tea and began to drink, remarking, “Room temperature, tastes better without ice.”

Leaving the storeroom with the milk tea in hand, Gao Ming closed the door behind him and walked away. After his departure, Xuan Wen’s eyes, which had been tightly closed, slowly opened.

Her reaction seemed to carry a hint of irony or disbelief as if to say, “I gave you a chance, and you used it to drink milk tea?”