Conan: What alias? That's my struggle!

Hundreds of times.

No, thousands of times.

Lin Ye couldn't remember anymore.

When time in the training space no longer has meaning, when failure and reset become the norm, when death becomes as frequent as breathing—he begins to lose the mood to count.

After the first training session, he thought it was over.

however.

[Basic shooting skills have been activated. The host has been found to have a severe lack of combat experience; further training is recommended.]

[Next Lesson: Advanced Shooting Techniques – Moving Target Training]

Before Lin Ye could say anything, the white space unfolded again.

A new mission has begun.

This time it was in an abandoned factory.

His mission is to eliminate ten moving targets hidden within the factory area within fifteen minutes. The targets can move, fight back, and hide.

He went in for the first time and was killed before he could even find his first target.

The second time, they found three, hit two, and killed one.

the third time……

On his twenty-third attempt, he finally completed the mission. He died twenty-two times: eight times he was headshot by snipers hiding in different corners, six times he was mowed down by submachine guns from targets suddenly rushing out from around corners, three times he was killed by trip mines under his feet, and the remaining deaths were of such varied and unpredictable ways that even he couldn't remember them all.

however.

The grueling training is not over yet.

[Next Lesson: Close Combat – Unarmed Killing Training]

This time it was in a closed underground boxing ring. His opponent was a bald, muscular man who was 1.9 meters tall and weighed over 100 kilograms. His mission was to kill him with his bare hands.

Lin Ye rushed forward for the first time, but was punched and sent flying, his cervical spine fractured, and he died on the spot.

The second time, he tried to use a leg technique, but was grabbed by the ankle and thrown to the ground, breaking his spine.

The third time, the fourth time, the fifth time...

On the fifteenth time, he finally used his "basic fighting skills" and observation to find the bald man's weakness - the opponent's right ribs had been injured before.

So Lin Ye showed no mercy, striking the same spot three times in quick succession, and as the bald man bent over, he locked his grip on his throat. The bald man fell to the ground.

Lin Ye also broke two of his finger bones.

"You trash monster! You've smashed my brain so many times!"

Of course, he was tough enough that he was completely numb and immersed in the relentless process of clearing the level—followed by a series of continuous training sessions.

[Next Lesson: Disguise and Infiltration – Training in Identity Disguise and Target Approach.]

[Next Lesson: Intelligence Gathering – Rapid Memory and Information Retrieval Training]

[Next Lesson: Counter-Spyware – Training in Evading Tracking and Counter-Surveillance.]

[Next Lesson: Advanced Shooting Techniques – Rapid Multi-Target Shooting Training]

[Next Lesson: Cold Weapons – Close Combat Weapon Training]

[Next Lesson: Explosives – Identification and Preparation of Improvised Explosive Devices]

One door after another.

Lin Ye was speechless.

He didn't know how long he had been in the training space. A day? A month? A year? There was no day and night cycle, no hunger, no fatigue—or rather, the system would reset his state when he was on the verge of a mental breakdown, making him "return to normal" and then move on to the next course.

But psychological fatigue cannot be reset.

He killed too many people.

Although they were all virtual, system-generated NPCs, every face felt so real. Every person he killed would show an expression of fear, resentment, anger, or pleading the moment they fell. Some would beg for mercy, some would curse, and some would watch him silently.

His image was reflected in her eyes.

Lin Ye hesitated at first.

Hesitation leads to defeat, defeat leads to death, and death means starting over.

Later, he stopped hesitating.

It's not that he's become cold-blooded, but that he's become numb. After killing the same NPC hundreds of times in the same way, it's hard to feel any emotion towards him anymore. He's no longer a "person," he's become part of the "pattern"—an obstacle that needs to be overcome.

A target that needs to be eliminated.

Lin Ye knew this change was dangerous.

But he couldn't control it.

I can only keep telling myself that it's just an NPC.

[Next Lesson: Comprehensive Practical Training – Multi-Task Parallel Exercises]

This time, the training space was far larger than before. The system constructed an entire building, crammed with targets, bodyguards, surveillance equipment, and traps. His mission was to eliminate three targets on the top floor of the building without triggering any alarms and then evacuate from the ground floor.

The entire process must be conducted without being detected, without leaving any survivors, and without using any electronic devices.

The first time, he was caught on camera on the second floor.

The second time, he successfully sneaked into the fifth floor, but was discovered by the bodyguards because his footsteps were too loud.

The third time, he killed the guard on the tenth floor, but forgot to dispose of the body, which was discovered by the patrolling security guards.

the fourth time……

The fiftieth time...

The ninety-seventh time...

On the 234th time, Lin Ye completed the mission.

He rappelled down from the top-floor window of the building, landing in the shadows behind it, his black combat uniform blending into the night.

The three bodies lay quietly on the top floor, unnoticed and unknown to anyone.

He left through the back alley, his steps steady, his breathing even, without running or panicking, as naturally as if he had just bought something from a convenience store and was heading home.

One mission after another, the dispatchers went from the man in black to Gin. He learned to complete the entire sequence of drawing, aiming, and firing a gun in 0.3 seconds.

He learned to approach a target silently in the dark and then end their life with a thin thread.

He learned how to impersonate different people—hotel waiter, cleaner, deliveryman, repairman, and even policeman!

Then deliver the fatal blow when the opponent is most relaxed.

"How am I, as a Madeira, so strong?!"

Lin Ye also learned how to escape from any building, how to get rid of any number of pursuers, and how to disappear without leaving a trace.

These skills were initially a "basic package" provided by the system, but after countless repetitive training sessions, they are no longer considered "basic".

They became instincts.

Something deeper than instinct.

Something etched into his bones. Finally, after countless resets, Lin Ye stood in the white space, a line of words appearing before him.

All training courses have been completed.

Overall rating: S.

[The host already possesses all the core skills of a formally employed member of the distillery.]

Lin Ye looked at the "S" rating without any expression.

He no longer experiences emotional fluctuations for anything.

At least not in this space.

[Returning to the real world is imminent.]

Countdown: 3-2-1-

A burst of white light.

Lin Ye suddenly opened his eyes.

The sky outside the window was still dark.

He is back.

So much time was spent in the training space, but in the real world, only a few seconds might have passed.

"Damn system! I'm even more twisted than a psychopathic killer now!" Lin Ye slowly sat up and looked down at his hands.

These hands have killed thousands of people in the training space.

now.

It's as stable as a rock now.

Murder case. Shinichi Kudo. Inspector Megure. Barrett. Gun license. I have to go to the police station to give a statement tomorrow.

These things suddenly seem so distant.

It feels so unreal.

"At least in the Conan world, I won't have to worry about being bullied by thugs anymore. However, right now I don't want to have any contact with anyone."

Lin Ye sighed and prepared to rest.

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned.

The words had barely left his mouth—

"Ding-dong, ding-dong..."

The phone rang, and the melody of "Seven Children" suddenly rang out in the quiet room, like a cold knife slicing through the silence of the night.

It was Gin calling.