Chapter 13: True Desires

Mo Qi had strong resistance to distractions, and amidst the accompaniment of their crying, she managed to complete the information gathering.

Liao Ruxue only wanted to kill Mo Qi and had no intention of causing further trouble. He meticulously compiled all the intelligence Mo Qi needed and placed it neatly on the computer desktop.

The incident where Xiang Wansi made a broadcasting mistake occurred at last year’s freshman opening ceremony. The auditorium was packed with people, including invited guests from the school. Xiang Wansi suddenly lost her voice and couldn’t utter a single word while standing on the stage. This event sparked discussions at the school for a while, but Mo Qi was too busy selling things to the freshmen to pay attention to it.

The opening ceremony coincidentally fell on September 9th, the day before Teachers’ Day.

Mo Qi charged the cracked screen phone and used the password “0909” to unlock Ke Xiaoxi’s phone.

Until yesterday, Ke Xiaoxi was still speaking ill of Xiang Wansi to her best friend, expressing a desire to see Xiang Wansi embarrassed and even wishing to ruin her voice.

Perhaps this was Ke Xiaoxi’s true desire. Qi Qiaoyan wished to kill Ke Xiaoxi but couldn’t fulfill this twisted wish, ultimately losing her life to the wishing box.

Mo Qi was at a loss for words upon discovering this information. He then proceeded to open Qi Qiaoyan’s phone and noticed all the caring and helpful voice messages from her friends.

Hidden in the crevice of the artificial mountain, did Qi Qiaoyan ever consider jeopardizing Xiang Wansi’s life for her own sake? Perhaps she did. After all, in that moment, she had already taken on a burden, walking on the edge of guilt with evil intentions growing within her.

But in the end, she didn’t act on those feelings. It’s unclear whether her choice was influenced by the kindness and care of her friends.

In reality, Qi Qiaoyan’s hatred towards Ke Xiaoxi was merely a momentary resentment. In everyday life, it’s not uncommon for people to curse someone out of extreme anger, saying things like “drop dead,” only to let the anger dissipate soon after.

Indeed, it was unfortunate timing for Qi Qiaoyan to obtain that crystal box with special powers.

It’s not her fault, but rather the desires that were maliciously magnified.

Whether in reality or in the game, the Wishing Box should not be allowed to wreak havoc on campus.

To stop the actions of the Wishing Box, we must find out why it selects wishers. Currently, the only lead is the disciplinary list.

Typically, unless it’s a serious matter, the school doesn’t easily discipline students, and expulsions are rare. Each year, only a few students face disciplinary action.

Students expelled would definitely not be on campus, making them less likely suspects. Excluding Qi Qiaoyan, who received a warning, that leaves us with four. Investigating them individually should be straightforward. Mo Qi fears the Wishing Box’s selection criteria might not be based on this.

Mo Qi wiped the corner of his eye. He had stopped crying; it seemed the “mourning” period was over. He turned to Xiang Zhuo and said, “Are you done crying? Come over here and analyze it.”

“Ah.” Xiang Zhuo stood up and grabbed two tissues from the table, vigorously wiping away the tears on his face.

Liao Ruxue felt even more embarrassed. He dashed to the restroom, quickly washed his face, and returned two minutes later, looking clean and composed as if nothing had happened.

Due to his intense crying, Xiang Zhuo hadn’t looked at Mo Qi for a while. The “staring” effect had worn off, and his intelligence had returned.

After reviewing the information Mo Qi had gathered, Xiang Zhuo said, “I think we need to pick up the pace. Allowing the Wishing Box to continue accumulating wishes could lead to something major.”

“What kind of major event?” Mo Qi asked.

Xiang Zhuo explained, “The background of this mission is within the campus, and there are no supernatural elements, lacking obstacles for the players. With only five players, completing the mission within seven days doesn’t seem difficult, which doesn’t match the difficulty level expected for an SSR-grade mission.”

“Are you suggesting that for every wish the Wishing Box fulfills, the game adds an obstacle for us? What kind of obstacles could those be?” Mo Qi asked.

“I’m not sure either, but since it’s just the first wish, the obstacles shouldn’t be too severe,” Xiang Zhuo replied. “However, we need to pick up the pace and investigate these four disciplined students first thing tomorrow.”

“I still don’t understand what the real objective of this game is. When you’ve done missions before, did they also not give any hints about the ultimate goal?” Mo Qi asked.

“It’s been like that before too, but once we find the core clues of the mission, we’ll know. Qi Qiaoyan had a photo of the Wishing Box on her phone, right? Let’s take it out and have a look,” Xiang Zhuo said.

Mo Qi pulled out the photo, and both leaned in to examine it closely. At that moment, Liao Ruxue returned to the office after washing his face, seeing them so close together and instinctively adjusting his glasses.

“Look, there’s a line of text on the Wishing Box,” Xiang Zhuo pointed at the photo.

Mo Qi enlarged the photo and discovered a small, faint line of text beneath the transparent heart shape—”Who can fulfill a true wish.”

“I think this must be a clue for the mission,” Xiang Zhuo said. “It’s strange; I didn’t notice this sentence the first time I looked at the photo. I can’t believe I overlooked such important information!”

Mo Qi remained silent.

He wondered why the “bad teammate” negative effect hadn’t worked on Liao Ruxue when dealing with him; it seemed the negative effect had already been used in the most crucial place.

Pretending not to know why Xiang Zhuo had missed it earlier, Mo Qi pointed to the line and said, “There are two points here that particularly catch my attention—’who’ and ‘true wish.’ I wonder which one is more important.”

“Who” should refer to which of the four wishers can walk away unscathed,” Xiang Zhuo said. “The real wish is the key; maybe only by making a true wish can we stop the Wishing Box’s actions.”

“I don’t think so,” a voice interjected calmly between the two of them. “Besides this sentence, shouldn’t we also pay attention to the transparent heart that keeps filling up? Is it possible that this is an accumulative type of wish? The previous ones could be traps, and only when the heart is completely filled with crimson, can a true wish be truly fulfilled?”

Xiang Zhuo nodded approvingly. “That’s a great perspective. From this angle, the whole situation changes completely. Mo Qi, you’re quite sharp for a newcomer!”

Mo Qi tugged silently at Xiang Zhuo’s sleeve, expressionless.

Xiang Zhuo only now noticed that the voice didn’t belong to Mo Qi but to Liao Ruxue, who held a boning knife.

Liao Ruxue had quietly positioned himself behind the two, listening intently to their conversation. His demeanor was refined and gentle, his thin-rimmed glasses concealing any calculations in his eyes.

“You… are you also a player?” Xiang Zhuo involuntarily moved away from Liao Ruxue, the student council president sending shivers down his spine.

“A player?” Liao Ruxue pondered over the phrase, smiled at Mo Qi, and confidently said, “So you’re a player. Then what am I? An NPC in this game, abandoned by players after stirring up trouble?”

“Stirring up trouble isn’t quite how it works. And put down the knife. With two of us here now, you can’t take me on,” Mo Qi restrained Liao Ruxue’s wrist.

“What’s his deal?” Xiang Zhuo whispered to Mo Qi.

Mo Qi pursed his lips and quietly hinted to Xiang Zhuo, “He’s a loose cannon.”

“Is he also affected by your abilities? What exactly is your skill? How many people and things does it affect?” Xiang Zhuo asked.

“I try to control it as much as possible,” Mo Qi rubbed his temples, feeling overwhelmed with just one student council president to deal with.

“Where did you get this knife?” Mo Qi asked Liao Ruxue.

Liao Ruxue replied, “After we parted ways, I felt I needed a handy weapon, so I went to the cafeteria.”

Mo Qi countered, “The cafeteria should have been closed by the time we parted.”

Liao Ruxue explained, “I picked it up during an event I organized before.”

Mo Qi sighed, “President, you’re a cultured and dignified person. Trust me, a boning knife isn’t suitable for you.”

Liao Ruxue glanced at the knife and smiled lightly, “I actually quite like it. It’s straightforward, and feeling it cut to the bone gives me a sense of physical liberation.”

“This guy is beyond help,” Mo Qi muttered in despair, rolling his eyes.

Mo Qi, knowing Liao Ruxue was highly intelligent and not one to hide things from, said directly, “President, you can probably guess that we’re players with special abilities, tasked with a dangerous mission. You’re just an ordinary person with average physical abilities. Please try not to get involved, okay?”

“I was just watching a few episodes of Detective Conan,” Liao Ruxue replied evasively. “The murder methods in there, while clever, are not satisfying enough.”

He leaned his arm on the table, partially enclosing Mo Qi with his body, and whispered softly in his ear, “Rather than clever murder methods or ingenious alibis, I prefer watching you. I intended to walk alongside you from the start, so why complicate things?”

Mo Qi weakly covered his forehead. He couldn’t empathize with this eccentricity.

“However, you can’t kill him,” Xiang Zhuo said, though he hadn’t fully grasped the situation yet. He still grabbed Liao Ruxue by the collar, lifting him up and setting him aside. “He can’t die until the mission is complete. I will protect him.”

Liao Ruxue, upon seeing Xiang Zhuo, tilted his head slightly as if recalling something. After a moment, he said, “Xiang Zhuo, Mo Qi’s senior, failed a subject last year. He’s quite an ordinary person. It’s strange; that’s all I seem to remember about you.”

“Even if you’re the student council president, you can’t possibly remember every student,” Xiang Zhuo remarked.

“No, you’re quite handsome,” Liao Ruxue stepped forward, attempting to grasp Xiang Zhuo’s chin, which he promptly avoided. “With your looks, either I’ve never seen you before, or if I have, I’d definitely remember. But right now, all I remember about you is your name, major, and year. My memory and habits seem to contradict each other. Mo Qi, what do you think is going on?”

Mo Qi remained silent, and Liao Ruxue didn’t need his answer, continuing his analysis introspectively. “I’m quite familiar with this phenomenon—it’s a sign of artificially implanted memories. Therefore, you’re not a student of our school; you arrived here when this world started becoming inexplicable.”

“Mo Qi, what exactly is he? Just an ordinary person?” Xiang Zhuo, an experienced player, found himself somewhat unnerved by Liao Ruxue’s revelations.

“He’s… probably a clever person who takes charge of situations,” Mo Qi said cautiously.

Liao Ruxue, wearing gold-rimmed glasses with a white shirt and black pants, elegantly held a boning knife in his right hand. He calmly addressed Mo Qi, “I don’t know much about your mission, but I have a new perspective. Would you like to hear my analysis?”