“Aren’t you coming back to the dorm with me?” Guo Mingzheng caught up.

“Get lost,” Mo Qi kicked Guo Mingzheng’s shin.

Guo Mingzheng stopped in his tracks, not daring to follow further, just staring at him pitifully.

The charm skill really worked wonders, making Guo Mingzheng feel so close to him. But why did the counselor show no reaction at all?

Mo Qi had just thrown caution to the wind and deliberately tested the counselor, only to receive a cold response.

“Does the charm skill affect everyone?” Mo Qi opened the game and asked the app.

[Effective on all players and ordinary people, closeness value doesn’t necessarily mean love, it could also be friendship or inexplicable fondness. Resistance varies from person to person, but it generally makes players likable to others.]

“Players” and “ordinary people” encompass everyone, so does that mean the counselor isn’t categorized as either a “player” or an “ordinary person”?

Mo Qi halted in place. “Besides me, are there other players in this game?”

[Every game cannot have only one player.]

“Besides me, how many other players are there? Are they all beginners?” Mo Qi asked.

[The number of players requires points to query. Mo Qi currently has 0 points and cannot query. Player levels cannot be queried, and the possibility of advanced players cannot be ruled out.]

“Is this game based on competition or cooperation among players?”

[Players can form teams, but Mo Qi has missed the team formation period.]

“First game for me, no points, no items, just level 1, and I might have to face advanced players whose numbers I don’t even know. Isn’t your game a bit unfair?” Mo Qi questioned.

[System is currently analyzing…]

After a moment, another dialog box popped up from the system.

[Analysis complete. Player Mo Qi is the mission initiator, possessing home field advantage. Additionally, Mo Qi’s base attributes are highly compatible with the mission objectives, making it easier to obtain clues compared to other players. The game’s random matching ensures absolute fairness and equity.]

“A rogue software that can’t be uninstalled claiming ‘fairness and equity’ sounds laughable,” Mo Qi remarked.

Mo Qi proceeded to ask more questions about Ke Xiaoxi, but this time the system responded: [The system will not answer questions outside of the beginner’s guide.]

At this moment, a button labeled “Beginner’s Guide” appeared on the game interface. Mo Qi clicked on it and found that the questions he had asked earlier were recorded there, with no additional guidance provided. It seemed he would have to trigger further inquiries himself.

“Game, is this the real world?” Mo Qi probed for more information.

[Players can make this place into the real world, or it can remain a false world. Specific methods are for players to explore on their own.]

“What does that mean?” Mo Qi asked, alert.

[The game exists between reality and falsehood, between existence and non-existence. Ultimately, which side it leans towards is decided by the player.]

What does this mean? Mo Qi pondered deeply, but the game refused to provide any new answers.

At least there was a possibility it could be a false world. Mo Qi decided to start by understanding the details of the mission.

Mo Qi opened the photo album and carefully studied Ke Xiaoxi’s social media posts. Six of them matched entries in Guo Mingzheng’s phone, showing some lovey-dovey moments like chat logs and gifts from Guo Mingzheng, appearing quite sweet and affectionate.

The other four posts had a completely different tone. According to the chronological order:

First post: “I’m locking down that scholarship this semester, so don’t even think about snatching it from me.” Attached was a photo of last semester’s transcript, showing high grades in every subject.

Second post: “Let me find out who reported me, they’re dead meat.” Attached was an emoji of a kitchen knife.

Third post: “I’ve discovered a big secret~”

Fourth post: “Some people deserve what’s coming to them, they asked for it!”

The innocent and sweet image of a girl in love has drastically changed, now appearing assertive and somewhat aggressive.

These social media posts seem to hide a story. Behind them, there might be someone else involved, someone who might have had a conflict with Ke Xiaoxi or could be connected to something unfortunate that happened to her.

Drawing connections between Ke Xiaoxi’s death and the first heart-shaped origami in the crystal box, Mo Qi had reason to suspect that everything was connected to the person hinted at behind her social media posts.

Ke Xiaoxi was a sophomore majoring in Chinese Language and Literature at the School of Literature. With this information, investigating her identity and relationships should be straightforward for Mo Qi, especially since he was part of the Student Council. He could quickly find out who might have had conflicts with Ke Xiaoxi.

However, in this game, there were other players to consider.

After a moment of contemplation, Mo Qi gritted his teeth and decisively walked towards the exhibition hall. As soon as he entered, he saw Liao Ruxue verifying the number of exhibits with members of the Student Council.

Liao Ruxue looked up as Mo Qi approached. “Back so soon? Don’t you have classes this afternoon?”

“I need to speak with a teacher about something urgent and my phone’s dead. Could I borrow your phone, President? I need to make a call to request leave,” Mo Qi said calmly, as if it were a routine request.

“Sure.” Liao Ruxue unlocked his phone and handed it to Mo Qi.

Mo Qi quickly scrolled through the apps on Liao Ruxue’s phone but didn’t find the Mysterious Domain Cards game.

Liao Ruxue likely wasn’t a player, but to be sure, Mo Qi proceeded with the pretense of requesting leave and made a call. However, he dialed Ke Xiaoxi’s number by mistake.

Ke Xiaoxi’s phone had been damaged by water, so it should either be out of service or show a switched-off message. If no one answered, Mo Qi planned to fabricate a conversation to simulate requesting leave.

But with a “beep,” the call unexpectedly connected.