Section Three: The Newcomer (2)

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Task assigned to Zhou Yingxiong (changes only):

“Number 19569, you have accepted the contract and been granted permission to enter the Infinite World.”

...

Task difficulty: Grade B (Challenging)

Main quest completion reward: 300 universal points.

Main quest failure penalty: Erasure.

Note: Everyone possesses different abilities, so assignments vary accordingly. The nature, difficulty, and rewards of your mission are not to be disclosed to anyone under any circumstances.

The final line of the briefing was written in four large, maliciously grinning red characters: “Otherwise, face erasure.”

August 15, 1993, 8:58 a.m.

2,400 meters east of the assembly point, on East Street.

Before parting ways, he did his utmost to conceal any hint of abnormality.

But once alone, all the questions came crashing down upon him.

What meaning was there in living?

Zhou Zhengxiong clenched his teeth.

He didn’t want these new acquaintances to look down on him, so he forced himself to act like a normal person. But how long could he keep it up?

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He simply couldn’t summon the energy. Even arriving in a world so utterly different from the one he knew—what difference did it make?

He had no desire for adventure in this so-called new world.

He didn’t even wish to go on living.

But dying wasn’t that easy, either. He’d once tried bolstering his courage with copious amounts of alcohol, hoping to end his life afterward, but all the drink did was send him into a deep sleep, sapping any strength for suicide.

He’d climbed to the rooftop, intent on jumping, but the sight was just too terrifying. He ended up heading home, telling himself it could always be done another day.

In short, suicide was no simple feat.

Yet the relentless torment of recent days had left him with no will to go on.

It all began three months ago, when he came home early by chance.

With an unexpected half-day off, he’d bought discounted groceries at the supermarket, planning to make his wife an especially good dinner. But when he opened the door, the sounds that greeted him from her bedroom were barking and moaning.

The door was ajar. She was there, naked and on all fours, barking like a bitch. Behind her, a massive black dog was panting, thrusting against her.

Embarrassment, pain, humiliation, sorrow, anxiety, rage, cowardice, and fear—

All these emotions boiled in his heart, threatening to overflow, stabbing at him like a thousand knives. But he dared not say a word. He simply carried his groceries out, leaving no trace of his presence.

Because she had everything. Talent, beauty, wealth—she possessed it all, while he was nothing but a minor office worker.

Everything at home belonged to her. His parents had contributed some money when they married, but the house was in her name, the furniture and car all bought by her later.

He owned nothing.

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They had once been classmates. She had admired his gentleness, his kindness, and the flashes of courage he sometimes displayed. But after seven years of marriage, they had both become utterly different people.

She was brilliant and elegant; he was awkward, plain, stiff.

She earned nearly thirty thousand a month; his salary barely exceeded two thousand.

Her parents were wealthy merchants; his were farmers.

She ran a beauty salon, often gathering there with friends; he worked as a junior clerk in a company owned by one of her friends—a position arranged by her. The job was easy, but he was constantly bossed around, devoid of any status.

Whenever his parents visited, they always reminded him to cherish his wife, telling him he was blessed beyond measure to have married her. He tried his best, but it never seemed to satisfy her.

It had been a long time since he’d touched her. Even the few recent encounters had left her dissatisfied.

And that dog—yes, it belonged to one of her friends. He remembered seeing it before.

He wasn’t even as good as that dog.

Die, die, die! What else could free him from such a predicament, such agony? What meaning could there be in living?

But suicide required courage and resolve—qualities he simply did not possess.