People in Yu-Gi-Oh! The hyper-converged audience is also integrated

Chapter 313 This angel is too talkative
The match ended in a draw.

The piercing alarm still echoed, and on the huge screen above the gambling table, the two scarlet words "Tie" seemed to mock every dumbfounded gambler.

The demon hunter was breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently. He stared intently at the unharmed woman opposite him, then glanced at his zeroed-out base score. Veins bulged on his forehead, and he slammed his clenched fist on the table with a dull thud.

Linghua's fierce expression had faded. She simply sat quietly, looking at her own score, which was also zero. A hint of annoyance flashed in her eyes. She straightened her sleeves, resumed her cold demeanor, and looked quite displeased.

The silence lasted only a few seconds before being completely drowned out by a deafening roar.

"A draw?! A draw?!"

"Damn it! So close! Just one more move and we could have turned the tables!"

"【Crispy Blade Sword】! It's actually a double-edged sword with this effect!"

"We lost...we lost everything..."

"Damn it!" I joined the crowd, pounding on the railing until my voice was hoarse.

I felt sorry for the sacrifice of [Fixed Cobra] and was angry at the Demon Hunter's failure. My mind went blank, completely immersed in the red team's defeat, and I couldn't react immediately.

I bet on a draw.

Just then, the host, Immy, recovered from his shock, his voice trembling slightly, and resounded throughout the arena: "Unbelievable! The duel is over! The result of this match is—a draw!"

She paused, then her voice suddenly rose: "A magnificent duel!"

"According to the rules, payouts will be made! The odds for a draw are 1 to 62!"

"One to sixty-two?!"

"I've won!!!" someone exclaimed, pointing to himself, "Me, I bet a thousand on a tie!"

"You little rascal, you've really hit the jackpot!"

My hand, which was pounding on the railing, froze in mid-air.

"What did I bet on again?"

The wails and curses around them were shut out; people's joys and sorrows were not shared.

I stared blankly at the two figures facing off in the arena, then looked down at my hands and the 65 shells placed on the table. A surge of heat rushed from the soles of my feet to the top of my head, and I shuddered. I was so overwhelmed with joy that I almost lost consciousness.

"I bet on a draw?!"

"Sixty-five, multiplied by sixty-two, equals..." I counted on my fingers, but I couldn't figure it out.

But it's okay, anyway—

It's out!!!

The host, Immy, flicked her finger lightly, and the crisp sound brought me back to my senses.

"According to the rules, payouts begin. A draw, 1 to 62."

As soon as she finished speaking, a waiter pushed a pile of sparkling pebbles in front of me, the rustling sound like heavenly music.

I looked down at the small hill, then at the sixty-five shells I had initially bet, and my mind was a little foggy.

Suppressing my elation, I reached out my slightly trembling hand and carefully scooped the pile of shells into my own. The cool touch of each one felt so real, it didn't seem like a dream.

Just then, I sensed it.

The temperature around me plummeted, and countless gazes were fixed on me, burning with undisguised greed.

I suddenly realized that this was a chaotic underground city, and I was a twelve-year-old child with no relatives or friends, but I was carrying a 'huge sum of money' in my arms.

Cold sweat broke out on my forehead, and I unconsciously tightened my grip on Bei Shi's arms.

"Don't cause trouble on my turf." Immy's voice was neither cold nor warm, like a bucket of ice water poured over everyone's heads.

Those gazes that seemed to want to devour me wisely withdrew; some shrugged, others turned their heads away. Four thousand wasn't enough to drive anyone mad.

"Victory is exhilarating because we give it our all. I don't want anyone to disrespect the winners in my arena." Immy's smile faded, and her gaze swept across the entire arena indifferently.

The audience fell silent, even the noise from the next table stopped.

Seeing that the scene had quieted down, she put on her friendly smile again and announced to everyone, "The two contestants will take a three-minute break, and then we will begin the next duel!"

"Tonight is just the beginning!"

As soon as she finished speaking, the atmosphere in the room was ignited again. The previous interlude was swept away, and the Demon Hunter and Spirit Flower at the gambling table exchanged a smile, each taking out their spare card boxes and slowly organizing their decks, preparing for a fight to the death.

I secretly breathed a sigh of relief, when a sharp "woo-wah" cry came from the left side of my neck.

She was really hungry.

I quickly squeezed through the crowd, left the gambling table, and decided to quit while I was ahead.

Description: I walked among the crowd, looking at the 'dark game' all around me, listening to the polarized sounds of revelry and wailing. They rarely robbed or intentionally harmed people outside the game. Why? Because during the game, they had already beaten people to a pulp.

The winner takes all, the loser gets nothing.

The dungeon, also known as the Dark Game City.

This place is not governed by the Alliance Law, but those who control the dungeon will use illegal means to deal with troublemakers.

I grabbed a passing uniformed worker, looked up, and asked, "Uncle, where can I buy something to eat?"

The man glanced down at me, then at the bulging clothes in my arms, and casually pointed: "Go to the end of the main road, the biggest building is it."

After thanking him, I carried the things and ran all the way. Before long, a rough stone building appeared in front of me, with a cross sword and staff emblem hanging at the door. This was the place my "father" used to talk about.

For the deserters, this place is their best refuge and their only way out.

I took a deep breath and stepped through the door. Inside was an unbelievably spacious hall, filled with the smell of alcohol and rusty metal. Dozens of burly men and women with menacing faces were walking around. The walls were covered with weapons and parchment with bounty amounts written on them.

As a twelve-year-old, I felt completely out of place among them.

I walked around the adults who could knock me flying and headed straight for the front desk.

There was a woman sitting at the front desk, smiling and giving advice to members. She didn't even lift her eyelids because I wasn't even as tall as the desk.

"Sister," I said.

The woman at the front desk paused in her work, glanced around, and frowned slightly when she saw me.

"Do you sell baby formula?" I asked again.

The woman was stunned, her mouth slightly agape. It was probably the first time she had ever heard a child ask such a question in a place like the council. She looked me up and down several times before slowly saying, "Yes, we do, but our products are only sold to members."

“Then I want to join,” I said immediately.

The woman frowned even more, her expression complicated: "The council stipulates that one must be at least fourteen years old to apply."

"I'm exactly fourteen years old." I straightened my back, my expression unchanged.

Since I have nothing to lose, I can just spout lies without anyone bothering to verify them.

She probably hadn't seen me so assertive before. She curled her lip and threw out another difficult question: "The membership fee is one thousand gold points. Pay upfront."

After she finished speaking, she lowered her head to organize the documents, clearly treating me like a troublesome wild child, waiting for me to back down.

I didn't say anything, but silently took out the pile of shells from my pocket, counted out a few of the best quality ones, and gently placed them on the table.

“Ding, ding…”

The crisp sound made the woman stop moving again.

"Sister, see if this is enough."

The woman at the front desk's gaze fell on the few crystal-clear, lustrous gemstones on the counter. Her eyes widened slowly, filled with astonishment. She lowered her gaze and stared intently at me, as if scrutinizing something, yet also with a hint of pity.

"That's enough." Her voice had softened considerably. "Wait a moment."

She deftly took a form and a pen from the drawer and pushed them in front of me.

"Fill this in."

When I got the form, I was stunned.

What is this character? I can't understand it!
My limited education means I can't understand such a complicated application form.

I held the pen, hovering in mid-air, hesitant to drop it.

Seeing that I hadn't moved for a while, the receptionist's professional patience finally ran out. She sighed softly, but there was no sympathy in her sigh, only a kind of commonplace weariness. "If you don't have a home, you don't need to fill in the rest."

"Just fill in your name, age, gender, and nationality."

She extended her finger, painted with red nail polish, and tapped a few blank spaces at the top of the form. For the "Citizenship" section, she filled in "Citizen Number," and the rest could be ignored.

“Number Min.” I looked up, bewildered, and said, “I don’t know how to write it.”

I know what numbered people are. They are a lower class than the wasteland people. At least the wasteland people have parents and a place they can call home. But numbered people are like livestock that are marked and can be erased at any time. I know what numbered people are, but I don't know how to write those three words.

The woman at the front desk clicked her tongue, appearing even more impatient, but still pulled out a piece of white paper from the side and wrote three large characters on it in a flamboyant style—"Number Min".

She pushed the paper towards me: "Make this drawing."

"Okay." I nodded obediently, gripped the pen tightly, and like a schoolchild, carefully traced the three unfamiliar characters into the civil registration column. I wrote with such force that I almost punctured the form.

After writing those three words, I became a homeless citizen.

It's not that my family doesn't want me; it's that I don't want that family.

Fill in "male" for gender and "14" for age.

These two are simple.

But when my pen tip moved to the "Name" column, I suddenly froze.

My hand was hanging in the air, but my mind was completely blank.

What's my name again?

Strange, very strange. I tried hard to remember, but my mind felt like it had been hollowed out, leaving only a chaotic white mist. I remembered what my "father" looked like, the pain when he hit me, and the effect of every card on the dueling table, but I couldn't recall my own name.

Seeing me standing there blankly, the receptionist assumed I was trying to recall some complicated number. Finally losing her patience, she urged, "Your name is your number! Add four digits to your place of residence. If you can't remember your place of residence, just leave it blank and write down any four digits!"

"From now on, this number will be your name."

“Four numbers…” I muttered to myself.

I looked up, my eyes scanning the noisy hall. The wanted posters on the wall, the prices on the menu behind the bartender, the lucky numbers on a broken slot machine in the corner... numbers were everywhere.

Finally, my gaze settled on the largest wanted poster on the wall behind the woman. It depicted a purple snake, and below it, large characters written in blood-red ink stood out prominently.

[Top Bounty: Purple Ringed Ouroboros, Bounty 10748000 Gold Points]

I stared at that string of numbers for a few seconds and thought it looked pretty good.

So I lowered my head and solemnly filled in four numbers in the name column.

0748.

From today onwards, this will be my name.

I handed the completed form back to the woman at the front desk.

Without saying a word, she took the form and turned to type furiously on a terminal. The harsh sound of the keyboard was particularly clear amidst the noise of the hall. I instinctively gripped the hem of my clothes and stared at the side of the machine.

About two minutes later, with a hum, a machine inside the console emitted a dull hum, and a dark object fell into the tray with a clatter.

The woman picked up the still-warm black iron token and added the numbers 0748 to the white paper that read "Numbered Citizen." She then pushed the paper and the token in front of me.

"Registration successful. From now on, you are a Black Iron member of the Council." She paused, then read out my new name, "Number Min, 0748."

I reached out my trembling hand and picked up the token. It felt heavy in my hand, and a warm sensation spread through my palm. It was engraved with "0748".

The Common Council is essentially a mercenary guild. The higher the level of the member, the higher the price of the job. The more privileged the citizen, the lower the commission the Common Council takes. Generally speaking, citizens take 10%, barbarians take 30%, and numbered citizens take 50%.

The "whoosh" sound from the left side of my neck started again, more urgent than before.

“Sister,” I looked up and gripped the token tighter, “milk powder.”

The woman at the front desk pointed in a direction: "The Chamber of Commerce is at the end of the road. You can join by presenting your token."

Following the instructions, I went to the Chamber of Commerce and, after some clumsy negotiation, finally managed to buy a can of milk powder, a bag of bread, a baby bottle, two bottles of water, and a [chestnut ball] coin.

The chestnut balls cost 1,800 yuan, which wasn't expensive.

The bread, baby bottle, and water cost forty, which was alright.

The baby formula cost 300!

Three hundred! A can of milk powder costs me three hundred!
If I weren't afraid of being beaten, I would have stuck my head out and shouted defiantly, "Why don't you just rob me?"

How can we survive like this?

Exhausted, I walked to a corner and sat down.

The crying from the left side of the neck started again, this time not a weak cry, but a sharp, almost tearing howl, one after another, interspersed with coughing and wet sniffling sounds.

Several impatient glances were cast my way, and I pulled my robe tighter, wishing I could tear this little brat off.

I took out the bread I had just bought from the bag, tore off a small piece of the softest part, and carefully brought it to her mouth. She kept her mouth tightly shut. When I pressed it a little harder, she turned her head away in disgust, spat out a few crumbs, and then cried even louder.

That's really something. Why would you refuse to eat bread and just have to suck on it?

Resigned, I took out the tin can of milk powder, unscrewed the cap, scooped some white powder into the bottle, and then unscrewed the water bottle and poured some in. The ratio of powder to water was entirely by feel. I put the cap back on and shook it a few times until it felt about evenly mixed before I put the bottle back into my robe and put it to her mouth.

The piercing cries came to an abrupt halt.

The whole world is quiet now.

I adjusted the position of the bottle, and soon I heard a faint but urgent sucking sound.

I let out a long breath, and my tense back relaxed.

"Is the formula really that good?" I muttered to myself, pulling out the bottle and taking a sip myself.

A warm liquid flowed into my mouth; it wasn't very sweet and had a slightly fishy smell.

That's it? What's the difference between this and bread soaked in water?
"Wah—" she cried again, shaking her head as if protesting that someone had taken her things.

I sighed helplessly and handed the bottle back to her.

This small jar costs 300 yuan. I wonder if it's enough for a week. Wouldn't it cost 1200 yuan a month?

Thinking about this terrifying expense, I made another wish.

When I get married in the future, I must marry someone with big breasts!

That's enough to save you 1200 a month! And if there's a discount, you can buy an R-card [Kuri-ball]!
Holding a baby bottle in one hand and munching on bread with the other, my gaze inadvertently fell on a piece of white paper at my feet, on which was written my new name, number Min0748.

Is it a new name?

It suddenly occurred to me that my little darling doesn't have a name yet.

But with my limited cultural background, I really can't think of any nice names. Usually, the kids call each other by nicknames, like "Fatty" or "Paparazzi".

After finishing my bread, I held the paper, leaned against the stone wall, and looked up at the bustling crowd and bright lights in front of me, lost in thought.

A wave of fatigue washed over me; I was so sleepy, so very sleepy.

The little ancestor inhaled for more than ten minutes, finally feeling full and sleepy, and then stopped.

I yawned, glanced at the paper in my hand, then at the crowd gambling away, and finally turned around, huddled in a corner, clutched the [Chestnut Ball] in my pocket, slowly closed my eyes, and fell into a deep sleep.

From now on, your name will be Blank Paper.

"My name is..."

"0748"

In the real world, on the Youlan Islands, in the medical building, room 502 of the general ward.

Li Guanqi suddenly frowned, his rationality rate plummeted by 5%, from 68% to 63%, and the stable waveform on the monitoring instrument looked like a cliff falling vertically without warning.

Over the past week, it dropped from 69% to 68%, then stabilized temporarily, but now it has suddenly plummeted by 5%.

After finishing her morning training, Tang Xin came to the ward as usual. She habitually checked the mental health monitor by the bedside first, and with just one glance, the fatigue on her face turned into horror.

"Doctor!"

She pressed the red emergency button next to the hospital bed hard, and a piercing alarm immediately blared throughout the corridor.

Heavy footsteps approached from afar, and two doctors entered with a nurse. The male doctor in the lead looked serious and asked anxiously, "What's wrong?"

Tang Xin pointed to the precipitous waveform: "His sanity rate... his sanity rate!"

Zhang Zhiyu, who came in with her, quickly stepped forward. She glanced at the bright red "63%" and the strange vertical line on the screen, and her brows furrowed tightly: "We've entered the Third Dream Space."

The third dream means that in the dream, the sleeper begins to forget 'self'.

The male doctor's face darkened, and he immediately pulled up the data stream from the past 24 hours: "He experienced a major cognitive shock in his dream, most likely he forgot his own name."

"Immediately prepare A-7 mental stabilizer, increase the dosage by 20%."

"Add another dose of high-concentration nutrient solution to maintain bodily functions."

A young nurse nodded and carried out the order.

After thinking for a moment, Zhang Zhiyu gritted her teeth and said, "I'll apply for the Ferryman Plan and use a forced mental link to drag him out!"

“The higher-ups won’t agree,” the male doctor immediately rejected. “It hasn’t fallen below 60% yet; the control room won’t approve the sealing plan.”

“But his symbiotic card—” Zhang Zhiyu hesitated before speaking.

She thought to herself that this symbiotic card was likely an epic card, and if it exploded below 60%, the entire medical building would be wiped out. Her mission wasn't over yet, and she didn't want to die.

However, this information was a top secret of the Soul Control Division and could not be spoken of; it had to be kept to oneself.

The male doctor stared at the "63%" on the instrument, which remained unchanged, and after a few seconds of silence, finally made a decision: "Proceed with the standard procedure for now, with 24-hour continuous monitoring."

Two nurses immediately sprang into action, pushing various instruments to the bedside. The syringes gleamed coldly under the lights. Tang Xin was pushed aside and could only watch helplessly as she saw that incredibly familiar face.

He was lying right here, yet it felt like he was in a completely different world.

"Brother, brother..."

In the darkness, I heard a clear call in my ear, followed by a loud shout.

"Get up, you lazybones!"

Something was shouting right into my left ear, its warm breath seeping in.

I jolted my eyes open, a blinding white light hitting me, and a hangover headache made my temples throb: "Hiss—"

"If you can't drink, don't show off." The voice from the left side of her neck was full of sternness. "So what if you've reached Gold rank? Look at you, thinking you're so great. You dare to add ham to your instant noodles and chug down cheap beer in one go."

Hearing that familiar nagging voice, my left hand seemed to have a mind of its own, and I reflexively raised it and gave her a light tap on the forehead.

"Ouch!" Bai Zhi let out a short, muffled cry, then lowered her voice and began to sob.

Over the past eight years, she has suffered this kind of beating countless times.

"What... was I supposed to do today?" I shook my groggy head, rubbed my temples, and muttered to myself.

My memory of last night is a bit hazy. I only remember celebrating reaching Gold rank with a few acquaintances from the guild and getting a few bottles of liquor poured into my drink.

"The entrance exam for the Divine Arts Academy!" Bai Zhi raised her voice, exasperated. "My dear brother, how could you forget that? Get your act together! This is an opportunity we've saved up for three years..."

"Smack—" I slapped it again.

"it hurts!"

Having two heads does have one advantage: when I forget something, the other one will always remember it for me.

I threw off the covers and sat up, looking around our rented small single room. It was only a dozen square meters, with a bed and a table, but it was clean enough. Compared to the corner of the council hall we used to live in, this place was paradise.

I walked into the cramped washroom, splashed my face with cold water, and the biting chill cleared my head considerably. I looked up at the mirror with a crack in it.

The person in the mirror was twenty years old, with black hair and black eyes, and a well-defined profile. There was an inescapable arrogance in the corners of his eyes and brows. Years of fighting and running around had not left many scars on his face, but instead added a bit of sharpness.

If it weren't for that annoying and bothersome thing growing on the left side of his neck, his face would be quite pleasing to the eye.

"What are you looking at? I look the same no matter how much you look." Bai Zhi pouted.

In the mirror, she, who was connected to my shoulder, became clearer and clearer. Although she was only "born" eight years ago, she already looked like an eighteen or nineteen-year-old girl. Her long, snow-white hair was particularly eye-catching, making her face look fair and translucent, and her eyes were bright and lively.

She is very pretty.

"Hurry up and get ready. The assessment starts at 11:00 AM. Being late will result in disqualification, you idiot brother!"

And they're very talkative.

I ignored her and walked straight to the table, picked up a warm token. The token was no longer the black iron it used to be, but a heavy piece of gold, with the number engraved on it still being 0748.

Next to it was a meticulously maintained deck of cards.

I put the token in my pocket and picked up the deck.

"gone."

"Hey, wait a minute while I comb my hair!" Bai Zhi exclaimed.

I pretended not to hear, and simply put on my robe, the wide hood falling down to cover Bai Zhi's head and her long, snow-white hair.

"You—" came a muffled voice from inside the hood, tinged with dissatisfaction. She twisted and turned, the rustling of the fabric clearly audible.

Immediately afterward, from inside the hood, the white paper suddenly stopped moving and let out a suppressed laugh: "Hehehe—"

Over the past eight years, whether due to environmental influences or her inherent nature, her personality has become increasingly distorted and extremely wicked, like a demon.

"call--"

The white paper turned its head and skillfully blew gently, sending a warm, moist breath precisely into my left ear, carrying a slight dampness.

"Hiss—" A tingling sensation ran through my body, a tingling and itchy feeling rushed to my head, making me shiver uncontrollably and my body stiffen involuntarily.

I raised my hand and slapped her hard.

"Waaaaah, it hurts so much!" the white paper sobbed pitifully.

(End of this chapter)