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

Chapter 70 My name is Lin Chen (Part )

My name is Lin Chen, a maggot from the satellite area of ​​Xumiyuan Fortress.

My favorite card is [Self-satisfaction].

On the early morning of August 1067, 8 in the New Spiritual Calendar, in the satellite area of ​​Xumiyuan Fortress, in the third underground computer room, the air conditioner was set at a constant temperature of 1°C.

I licked the residue of synthetic nutrient paste from the corner of my mouth and pushed open the explosion-proof door covered with posters of the "King of All Winners" event.

The musty smell mixed with the fermenting aroma of four hundred and twenty kinds of body fluids hit me in the face - sweat, prostate fluid, cheap silicone lubricant, and the smell of pickled cabbage that always lingered in the ventilation ducts.

Thirty quantum screens are suspended under an anti-static grid, and blue light illuminates thirty blue-gray faces.

Their nerve bundles were wrapped around the outside of the VR helmets, twitching their limbs like worker bees raised by the spider queen. The mold spots on the ceiling were growing at a speed visible to the naked eye, forming patterns that resembled the demon emblem of the Soul Binding Division.

The helmet signal light flickered on and off like a dying firefly on a summer night.

Lao Zhou sat in the innermost seat. His chair was more worn out than others, with the sponge on the armrests exposed.

When I approached him, he was wearing his priceless neural access helmet, the port at the back of his neck flashing a faint blue light. His fingers twitched occasionally, as if grasping at something in a dream.

The monitor shows the duel interface, and Lao Zhou's character is in the duel. Unfortunately, the opponent is wearing the badge of the Soul-Calling Division and has been caught. According to the organization's regulations, one cannot surrender when encountering the Soul-Calling Division.

I glanced at his status bar and saw the continuous online time: 47 hours and 23 minutes.

In the upper right corner are three lines urging death.

Missions completed this month: 180

[This month has been broken: 255]

Sanity rate: 62%

There are still ten hours left until the monthly settlement, and the performance target is still one-fifth away.

His water cup was placed next to him, with a layer of scale on the wall and a few undissolved nutrients at the bottom.

The clock on the wall read three in the morning. The wires in the machine room were tangled, wrapping them tightly and making it hard to breathe. Occasionally, someone would take off their helmet to go to the bathroom, their steps so weak that it felt like they were stepping on cotton.

Their eyes were bloodshot, yet frighteningly bright, as if burning with some morbid light.

In ten hours, the season will be reset and the All-Victory King event will begin, so the traffic will be huge.

At the same time, some colleagues will be sentenced to death.

Old Zhou suddenly began to tremble violently, and I quickly grasped his shoulders. Cold sweat dripped from his forehead, glistening in the fluorescent light. This was a sign of neural overload, but he simply waved his hand, signaling me to ignore him.

In the last ten hours, he felt there was still hope and he could complete the remaining one-fifth of the target for this month in these ten hours.

Instead of asking him to rest, I handed him a refreshing lozenge. The sour and bitter powder stuck to his throat and could slightly boost his spirits.

He is my friend and we came here together.

If nothing unexpected happens, these last ten hours will be the last time Lao Zhou can stay in the computer room.

I walked to the window and opened the curtains a little.

It was still dark outside, with circles of fog forming. Forty [reserve troops] were dueling and practicing. My face was reflected on the glass, overlapping with the hunched backs behind me, like a group of ghosts trapped in a data cage.

The only real clock hands are the 12 hour hand, the 720 minute hand, and the 43200 second hand.

We are just reserves.

I'm considered lucky, as I work in the computer room.

If the performance does not meet the standards, you will have to give up your position and return to training outside the room. If the outdoor training still does not meet the standards, you will be thrown out to fend for yourself. You can either join the black car gang or go to the mine. Women may have other ways to live.

Live one day at a time, that is the fate of the barbarians.

The fluorescent tubes on the ceiling hummed, and Lao Zhou's temples throbbed.

The neural access helmet was clamped on his head like a rusty pair of iron clamps, and blood oozing from the interface at the back of his neck was sliding along his spine into the collar of his work clothes.

This was his 48th hour of continuous duels. Triple afterimages floated on his retina: his own cards, the enemy's figures, and the black noise that continued to spread from the depths of his consciousness.

Sanity rate: 60%

In Metaverse Duel, you can set a sanity rate warning line. If it drops below the set point, you will be forced to exit the game. We call this a "crash."

But Lao Zhou hadn't set up a cordon, and the duel continued. I gently raised my hand, wanting to say something, but couldn't.

Sanity rate: 55%

Sanity rate: 53%

Sanity rate: 52%

Sanity rate: 51%

I slowly closed my eyes and stopped reading.

"Snapped--"

The smart watch continuously sent electric shock commands to the workstation terminal. A scream was heard, and the blue light of the electric shock collar passed through the frosted glass partition and spread in the foggy air.

Dozens of people in the computer room did not react, and no one was willing to take off their helmets to look at the fallen Old Zhou.

No one cares if a maggot dies.

Lao Zhou died right before my eyes, but I didn't feel a bit sad.

When the sanity rate drops to 50%, it means death by electric shock. Before being thrown out of the computer room, Lao Zhou chose to end his life.

He has met the performance target for five consecutive months. If he meets the target for another month, he can get an inhibitor. However, if he is thrown out of the computer room, the performance of the previous five months will be reset to zero.

Last month, he didn't set up a cordon.

The supervisor heard the noise and pushed the door open. Without a trace of surprise on his face, he simply waved and called for the robots to carry away Old Zhou's body. Then he shouted to the forty reservists training outside, "Number 17!"

"You come in."

The girl in number 17 excitedly raised her hand and rushed to the supervisor. The supervisor reached out and rubbed the girl's waist and hips, not paying any attention to the crowd's gaze. He said, "The camera position is yours, go ahead."

"Thank you, supervisor!" Girl No. 17 jumped up excitedly and rushed to Lao Zhou's camera position.

She didn't mind the dirt and didn't even wipe off the blood and mucus left on the table. She couldn't wait to put on her helmet.

After being exposed to wind and rain outside for half a year, I can finally get into the computer room and enjoy the air conditioning.

I smiled bitterly, and for some reason, I really wanted to applaud and celebrate.

Congratulations to the agent from the Soul Binding Division on the opposite side, his achievement is plus one.

Congratulations to girl No. 17 for getting a seat on the flight.

Congratulations to the supervisor, I got one less inhibitor.

Congratulations to Lao Zhou for being freed. There is one less bad guy in the world.

Congratulations to the stray dogs in the suburbs, they have meat to eat tonight.

Five wins, congratulations.

It’s such a festive day, why is no one cheering, no one clapping.

"Good!" An excited voice sounded from the computer room.

Including girl number 17, several people took off their helmets, looked at the man and asked, "Is it done?"

Most of those who can't help but scream out loud are celebrating completing their performance this month.

"Hahaha, get it, get it!" The cheering man laughed loudly. People surrounded him and asked him about dueling skills.

No one cares about Lao Zhou's death because it wasn't them who died.

But if someone [completes the order] it will attract a lot of attention, after all, skills can be passed on by word of mouth.

The cheering man just smiled and said, "Good luck, good luck, I met someone with a bad mentality."

"Hahahaha, he collapsed after I said a few words to him."

It was a very standard perfunctory rhetoric, and he was unwilling to reveal his dueling and annoying skills.

No one who can stay in the computer room has a simple mind.

(End of this chapter)