After Transmigrating into the Cyber Game, I Defeated the Boss and Successfully Rose to the Top Chapter 79: Artificial Souls - (6)

“How do you plan to guarantee confidentiality?” Kui Xin frowned. “Given the current climate, I’m certain nobody would willingly reveal their true identity. If players want to communicate with each other, they’ll inevitably need to use the internet and modern communication tools. Any skilled hacker could easily trace back player information.”

“We have considered this aspect as well,” Yuan Lu responded seriously. “Have you seen any related posts about encryption technology in the Second World on the forum?”

Kui Xin replied, “Yes, I have.”

“Yu Qiwen wants to develop a similar program. We could mimic the closed beta forum by creating an encrypted website that is not accessible to the public. Only those who successfully pass the correct authentication can enter. Just like with an encrypted network, our communications won’t leave traces on the web; instead, they would automatically delete,” Yuan Lu explained. “The specific technical principles seem to involve advanced applications from the Second World, which I don’t fully understand, but Yu Qiwen is highly confident.”

“If it were , I wouldn’t join,” Kui Xin bluntly stated. “Because I cannot trust a website of unknown origin; you might be using it to gather my information. To be honest, if you hadn’t approached initially, I would have continued living my peaceful life without getting entangled with other players.”

Yuan Lu, sounding exasperated, replied, “We genuinely have no better alternatives. It’s true we can’t make everyone believe us, but facing the current situation, we mustn’t stagnate or let fear hold us back. With such hesitation and trepidation, when will we ever form a genuine alliance? Being afraid of this and that—fearful of exposure at every step—we ultimately dare not take any action. Fear is the greatest obstacle preventing players from uniting.”

“Most people in this world dare not entrust their lives to others’ sense of morality,” Kui Xin said. “It’s rely human instinct.”

“I’m starting to suspect that the ga developers are specifically targeting us… Think about it, every new rule they introduce is aid at dividing the players internally. The ga appears to give us choices, making us consider whether to accept or reject them, but in reality, our options are severely limited. It seems like the ga deliberately wants to portray itself as rciful, yet it’s utterly hypocritical.” Yuan Lu spoke with frustration, “I also understand that such actions make gaining others’ trust difficult, but do we truly have any other alternatives?”

Kui Xin pondered for a mont. “Indeed, it’s another serious choice once again. We can either opt for forming alliances or remain stagnant and cautious. Choosing alliances involves taking risks while staying hesitant ensures no change whatsoever.”

“Do you want to join, Kui Xin?” Yuan Lu asked.

“Hmm… I think I’ll observe for now.” Kui Xin reasonably played the role of a common individual—neither actively charging forward as a pioneer nor being the last one to act.

She said, “I just want to be ordinary, keeping so distance from those complicated matters. My life in the Second World has been relatively stable, and I’m about to embark on a promising university experience in the First World. I feel very safe.”

Yuan Lu sighed. “Alright, I knew it. Just make sure to contact us promptly if any troubles arise.”

After hanging up the phone, Kui Xin fell deep into thought.

Forming alliances among players involved nurous intricate details, which Yuan Lu, Yu Qiwen, and Xie Ganqing must have undoubtedly discussed. Kui Xin didn’t delve deeply into these specifics; after all, her outward persona was that of a slightly clever, soon-to-be college student who wanted to steer clear of complications.

Once players form alliances, they would need to establish rules, determine each other’s identities, assess trustworthiness, and ensure information security. All these issues required careful consideration.

Between the lines of Yuan Lu’s words, their intention was clear—they desired an equal partnership with other players. ..

However, from the mont the alliance began, their relationship with other players was destined to be unequal.

They knew the identities of other players, but those players were unaware of theirs—a fundantal imbalance in itself. Such inequality breeds suspicion, leading to conflicts, and once tensions escalate, the alliance could easily crumble from within.

Kui Xin pondered for a very long ti, contemplating what she should do next and how to navigate this situation fraught with internal strife and external threats.

Kui Xin was adept at introspection and understanding her own needs. At this mont, she thought. How wonderful it would be if she could ascertain the identities of all the players.

If she knew everyone’s true identities, she could determine who had been bought off by the Second World as traitors, who were trying to infiltrate the player group for their own gain, and who posed a threat to her.

Unfortunately, it was truly unfortunate. Kui Xin possessed intelligence and strength but lacked technical expertise—the ans to connect the players together eluded her.

If she had Yu Qiwen’s hacking skills, she undoubtedly could have seized control, identifying suspicious individuals and nipping potential dangers in the bud before they escalated.

Despite having these thoughts, Kui Xin couldn’t act yet—at least not now.

She hadn’t gathered enough information, and the chaotic situation remained unsettled with many uncertainties. Most importantly, her status as a Depriver was the greatest hindrance, yet concealing this identity proved the most challenging.

Only when the circumstances beca clearer, the murky waters slightly settled, and there were fewer variables, could Kui Xin devise her next plan.

Before taking action, she needed to beco an observer, calmly watching the changes unfold and analyzing the evolving situation.

Upon her next return to the Second World, would there be even more opportunities for turning points?

Over the following days, around 6:01 pm each evening, the phantom of the Second World’s city would appear in the sky.

Initially, the duration of the phantom’s appearance was brief, lasting only fifteen to twenty seconds. Gradually, it extended to thirty seconds and finally settled at forty-five seconds.

On yet another evening, Kui Xin arrived by the window ten minutes early. She had purchased a new smartphone with higher storage capacity and better cara resolution two days prior. Now, she intends to use it to capture the phantoms on the horizon.

Setting her old phone as an alarm, she simultaneously raised the new one, activating its recording function and pointing it towards the sky.

Kui Xin gazed at the red-tinted clouds, silently counting the seconds. Finally, the six o’clock alarm chid promptly; she always preferred setting her alarms slightly ahead of ti to allow extra reaction monts.

As soon as the alarm sounded at six, Kui Xin started recording with the new phone.

At precisely 6:01 pm, the city phantom appeared, and the entire scene unfolded seamlessly, captured by the smartphone. Soon after, the phantom vanished.

Kui Xin stopped the recording, sat down at the table, and leaned over to scrutinize the video footage.

The appearance of the phantom followed a pattern. Over the six days Kui Xin observed the mirage city always manifested at 6:01 PM without exception. Additionally, each ti the phantom appeared, it lingered for a few seconds longer in the sky. The duration had progressed from fifteen seconds to forty-five seconds—a significant leap.

After reviewing her recording, Kui Xin noted down the exact tis when the phantom first erged and disappeared. With concern, she realized that today’s phantom persisted for fifty-five seconds, already approaching one full minute.

As the days increase, will the city phantom eventually remain permanently in the First World’s sky? Ultimately, could the Second World’s city materialize from illusion to reality, becoming a genuine tropolis integrated with the First World?

The apparition of the city phantom has stirred considerable waves worldwide. So claid the apocalypse was imminent, urging people to stockpile food and weapons and build shelters in their basents to withstand the impending doom. Initially, so believed the aerial city phantom was a natural phenonon caused by optical refraction. However, they were unable to associate the phantom city with any existing major urban center on this planet. After a few days, a growing number of individuals began speculating that the mirage in the sky actually depicted scenes from an alternate world or parallel universe.

The changes brought by the city phantom to the First World extended beyond these speculations.

In a remarkably short period, food prices surged, oil costs skyrocketed, stock markets fluctuated wildly, ard robberies beca more frequent, and sales of civilian firearms experienced a dramatic leap. teorologists and relevant experts from various countries felt compelled to step forward and issue misleading statents, assuring the public that these phantoms were false and that the apocalypse could not occur.

They had to lie to the populace, calm their fears, stabilize the situation, and ensure societal order. However, these declarations had little effect; regions destined for chaos continued to deteriorate, and astute observers recognized the abnormality of these events.

On the forum, Kui Xin saw posts from foreign users claiming they lived near the coast and frequently observed military exercises at sea over the past few days, with military planes soaring across the city skies.

One morning, when Kui Xin went to the market to buy groceries, she also experienced firsthand how the mirage incident impacted her daily life—the prices of vegetables, fruits, and ats had noticeably increased.

Fortunately, food prices were regulated, so the rise was not significant, and there remained ample supply without any shortages or unavailability issues.

Notably, after the mirage incident, a few attention-seeking clowns spread panic-inducing comnts online. The relevant authorities promptly traced them through their internet connections, and they are likely to have been detained by now.

Today is the sixth day, and tomorrow will be the seventh day—August 9th.

Kui Xin would return to the First World precisely at midnight tomorrow.

After dinner that evening, Kui Xin received a call from Su Rong.

“Hello? Sister Xinxin…” Su Rong hesitantly said, “My dad is working out of town, and these past few days, my mom had urgent work requiring her to go on a business trip. Mom isn’t comfortable with staying alone, and usually, when this situation arises, I’m supposed to stay with my aunt. However, Aunt recently had a newborn baby, and it’s just too noisy there. I don’t want to go, but, but…”

“What’s wrong? Are you afraid to stay ho by yourself?” Kui Xin asked.

“Sigh, what I wanted to ask was if Sister Xinxin could spend the night at my place tomorrow? My bed is super big! After your tutoring session tomorrow, you won’t need to leave; just stay over!” Su Rong said eagerly, “Please?”

But tomorrow coincides with the day she needs to return to the Second World. Is Su Rong inviting her because she fears being alone?

Kui Xin paused for a mont before agreeing, “Mm-hmm, alright.”

She agreed because this ti, unlike her previous sudden arrival amidst the Scythe Demon’s attack, she was sleeping at her ho on Anning Street, safely tucked in bed.

Kui Xin noticed that Su Rong’s mother took good care of her, and as Su Rong herself was a player, Kui Xin indeed had intentions to further engage with her.

“Yay!” Su Rong exclaid happily, “When you co over tomorrow for tutoring, rember to bring so pajamas!”