“It’s complicated to explain... I’ll buy you a copy of Das Kapital when I have time.”
Song Mo stroked the female ghost's head to comfort her, her mind drifting.
In fact, she sometimes wondered if the system and the Instances were just a game played by higher-dimensional beings, or perhaps their “show”?
Could the players' desperate struggles and bitter attempts to survive be nothing more than “entertainment” in someone's eyes?
But as it turned out, these were merely her wild imaginings.
Just like the several mass extinctions in history.
The spiritual energy recovery could not be stopped or hindered.
All she could do was protect her own life while preventing Instances from descending within Huaxia.
Just as everyone had their own emotional anchors, Song Mo felt she was no different.
After dying and being reborn in a corpse, if even the familiar yet foreign Huaxia—the only place that gave her a sense of belonging—became riddled with holes...
Song Mo thought about it. If that happened, she might truly go down a non-human path of no return, becoming an “evil troll who just wants to watch the world burn.”
It was like a highly popular hypothetical question she had seen before: Suppose your country was destroyed by nuclear bombs, and you held the launch button for another country's nuclear arsenal. What would you do?
Song Mo, of course, would choose to smash that button to pieces.
...
Song Mo looked down and stroked the cold side of the bus.
The moment her fingers brushed the icy metal, the entire vehicle swayed gently.
Like a golden retriever getting its head patted, it rubbed against her palm with immense affection.
The incandescent lights inside the bus flickered twice, and the horn let out a soft “beep.”
It was incredibly soft and obedient, as if greeting her.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been too busy lately to play with you, leaving you to wander around outside on your own for so long.”
Song Mo couldn't help but smile. She traced the lines of the vehicle's body with her fingertips, coaxing it like a child: “But I saw. You’ve been very obedient and listened to me.”
“Beep beep!”
The bus swayed, its horn sounding slightly aggrieved. Its headlights flickered, conveying a sense of helplessness.
It was like a child who had done something wrong and feared being scolded.
“You were in the wrong this time.” Song Mo tapped the roof of the bus. “How could you ignore the rules and drive straight into a crowded area? Don’t come looking for me when there are a lot of people around in the future, okay? It will cause trouble.”
“Vroom vroom!”
The vehicle shuddered violently, and its horn blared in a series of frantic beeps, as if hurriedly apologizing.
Its two headlights blinked rapidly, resembling blinking eyes.
“Alright, alright, I don't blame you.”
Song Mo softly comforted the very first supernatural creature born from her pen: “The fact that you found me so quickly means you like me, right? Once I’m done with this busy period, I’ll use Screenwriter Points to upgrade you. I’ll add two new rules and even get you a couple of NPCs to keep you company, how about that?”
She had realized that the Bus Ghost was exceptionally afraid of loneliness, likely from having stayed in the museum for too long.
That was why it had sensed her presence and immediately appeared near the cemetery.
“My,” A'yan stood to the side, covering her mouth as she giggled. “It really is just like a little puppy. How amusing.”
Hearing itself being praised, the Bus Ghost immediately lifted its front tires, its chassis vibrating joyfully as it beeped twice.
Song Mo, fearing the Bus Ghost might forget, added an extra warning: “Next time you see me in a crowd, don’t rush straight at me. I don’t want the Special Investigation Bureau keeping tabs on me.”
She didn't want her cover blown at all.
Especially not for some ridiculously trivial reason.
Question: How did the Special Investigation Bureau discover she was the mastermind? Answer: Because the screenwriter was so engrossed in writing that she forgot to “walk her dog” for a few days, causing the Bus Ghost to wag its tail frantically upon seeing her, desperate to plow through the crowd just to snuggle up to her. Conclusion: Death by laziness to walk the dog.
...
“Beep beep!”
If the Bus Ghost had a tail, it would probably be wagging so fast it could double as a propeller.
Song Mo took a glance and shook her head. Good grief, the windshield wipers were practically about to fly off.
She patted the sheet metal of the roof and pointed in a certain direction: “I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. See that sickly old man hanging on by a thread? Later, take... well, take his son inside.”
“Beep beep!”
Watching his own son snatch away his only lifeline...
This old geezer would absolutely die of anger.
A'yan's eyes lit up.
Song Mo actually quite liked Chen Xi. With this in mind, she glanced at the Special Investigation Bureau officers who were actively evacuating the crowd in the white fog.
They remained completely oblivious.
“My Lord,” A'yan suddenly voiced a doubt. “Those officers are counting heads. If you aren't there... won't they assume you've entered the Instance as well?”
Song Mo, who had been completely engrossed in petting her “dog,” froze. She slowly turned her head.
If she ran back right now and claimed she had actually fallen into the river and only just managed to climb out, would it still be in time?
A'yan slowly shook her head.
The Bus Ghost let out a cheerful “beep beep” and carried its seven players toward Taiping Cemetery.
...
The heavy fog rolled in quickly and vanished just as fast.
Faces were filled with dazed confusion until someone noticed that the people beside them had vanished: “Where is everyone? Where's the girl who was livestreaming here just now?”
“And that old man running the stall is gone too?!”
“It’s the Route 404 Ghost Bus! A ghost really took them away!”
“Don’t go! Stop! I’ll give you money! I’ll give you as much as you want!”
After the fog cleared, Lu Bingkun pounded the armrests of his wheelchair frantically, his voice as hoarse as a cracked gong: “Stop! Let me in! I have plenty of money!”
As if experiencing a terminal lucidity, he actually found the strength to crawl down from his wheelchair.
Whatever pride or dignity he claimed as a member of the upper class shattered completely in the face of death.
Death was the ultimate equalizer.
It would not break its appointment because of wealth, nor would it retreat due to status.
At this moment, only one thought occupied Lu Bingkun's mind: as long as he could get on that bus, as long as he could live...
But the fog did not pause for even a second, slowly dispersing.
At the same time, the middle-aged man who had been standing beside him was gone as well.
As the wind blew, the mist cleared completely.
It was as if the massive fog just now had been nothing but a collective hallucination.
Lu Bingkun stared fixedly in the direction where the fog had vanished, his eyes so bloodshot they looked ready to bleed.
More infuriating than having hope right before one's eyes yet failing to grasp it was the question: Why wasn't it me?
He had lived a smooth life of wealth and power, able to buy anything he desired, yet he couldn't buy a single ticket to an Instance.
Why was his son chosen?
Why were those ordinary people chosen?
Was he inferior to ordinary people? Inferior to that useless waste of a son?
Or was even heaven refusing to open its eyes and grant him a path to survival?
Why? Why? Why?!
Everyone watched the dying old man rip off his oxygen mask to chase after the fog, as if experiencing a brief surge of life.
It was like watching a monkey show.
The same condescending gazes he had once cast upon others were now returned to him.
A torrent of rage, despair, and humiliation surged into his heart. Lu Bingkun's chest heaved violently. He opened his mouth—
But before he could draw a breath, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed straight backward.
The onlookers were frightened out of their wits. Doctors rushed over to check his heartbeat, frantically administering emergency injections and connecting oxygen.
The scene fell into utter chaos.
...
Chen Xi assisted her colleagues in evacuating the crowd and counting the players swept into the Instance while reporting to her superiors: “Riot control team, maintain formation! Don't panic! Field team, count the heads! Technical team, locate the energy source immediately! Route 404 suddenly showed anomalies. We suspect energy fluctuations in the Instance caused its route to change—”
In the official understanding, Route 404 was not “alive.”
It would only wander around Taiping Cemetery on the night of a full moon, randomly snatching passersby into the Instance.
Tonight's anomaly was truly beyond the Special Investigation Bureau's expectations.
Soon, the field team used surveillance footage and facial recognition to determine that a total of eight people had been taken.
“Eight people? The Taiping Cemetery Instance only allows seven players at a time. How could eight have gone missing?”
Chen Xi quickly took the tablet to look through it. Finally, her gaze landed on a somewhat familiar female face: “Song Mo... Song Mo? I remember she was connected to the living corpse incident. She was taken by Route 404 too?”
Rate on N.U.
