Chapter 11: An Astonishing Discovery

Just before the onset of his illness, Li Xin’s HP had just returned to full, his consciousness extending outward as he slipped into the state of virtual illusion and reality. The excitement in his brainwaves at that moment was the direct result of this state’s pull. In the game world, he instinctively swung his Nepalese army knife several times with rapid strokes. In reality, his body, which had been sitting quietly, suddenly mimicked these swift, empty-handed movements.

In other words, both in-game and in real life, he had performed the same violent arm-swinging motions simultaneously. It was at that very moment that the illness struck, overwhelming him and throwing him to the floor.

During his earlier attempts, whenever he entered the virtual illusion and reality state, the main focus of his activity was always within the game. His physical body followed his brain’s commands and the character’s actions, mechanically pressing mouse and keyboard. It was as if another soul were manipulating his hands. Once he dropped out of that state, his own hands took over to control the game’s shooting sequence.

Because his game character and his real self had both performed the same arm-swinging actions at that instant, the ultra-high-frequency brainwave fluctuations had infinitely stimulated his body’s disease factors, causing him to convulse suddenly. If he were to explain this, no one would ever believe him; they’d think he was insane, spouting nonsense. Yet, it had truly happened, inexplicable and incredible.

For the first time, Li Xin deeply sensed the wondrous and mysterious nature of “King of Games.” He was stunned, so mesmerized by its enigmatic gameplay that he yearned to return to his computer, pick up the mouse and keyboard, and log in once more to test his new discovery. He wanted to see what state his real body would be in if his game character initiated an attack.

Just as he was about to rise, dress, and leave his bed, Li Xin abruptly froze. A thunderbolt crashed down in his mind, stirring chaos. Suddenly, a detail he had never considered before leapt to the forefront of his thoughts, dominating his entire consciousness.

The past two days, he’d logged in and out of the game dozens of times. Each time he logged out, he simply clicked exit, never paying much attention to “King of Games” system prompts. Each time he exited with his HP below 100, the system would issue a reminder: [Player offline, exiting this game session!] But if his HP was at full, there was no such prompt.

He had never paid much attention to this; after all, he’d already logged out, and “King of Games” only activated when he entered the game. But now, looking back, he realized just how foolish and oblivious he’d been. If there was no logout reminder, didn’t that mean he hadn’t actually exited this session of “King of Games”?

This enormous revelation sent Li Xin trembling, his body convulsing once more. He desperately wanted to verify his theory, but the numbness in his body and the haze in his mind rendered him helpless.

The ward was empty.

“Help… help me…” He struggled, calling out in fear and confusion. He wasn’t afraid of death, but he dreaded not being able to fulfill his parents’ legacy, not being able to continue playing this unique game in the universe. Summoning all his strength, Li Xin kicked the rack beside his bed.

Clang!

“What was that sound?” A young nurse passing by frowned at the noise, pushed open the door, and instantly, her pupils contracted as she pressed the emergency button at the bedside.

Twice in a single day, Li Xin was rushed to the emergency room, now a subject of special attention, isolated in an ICU ward under dedicated care. He had money, insurance, and felt no distress over expenses.

Ordinarily, muscle rigidity and spasms are common for Parkinson’s patients, but none of the attending doctors had ever seen a case like Li Xin’s. His symptoms far surpassed those typical of Parkinson’s, resembling epilepsy—his consciousness lost, foaming at the mouth, in a deep coma.

Yet after consultation, they confirmed he suffered only from Parkinson’s disease. Considering his young age of twenty-six, this made his situation all the more tragic and frustrating.

After much discussion, the doctors could only attribute the cause to his persistently high brainwave fluctuations. Even the neurology specialists couldn’t explain this phenomenon; to them, Li Xin was a medical anomaly.

Despite advanced medicine, many diseases remain undetectable and incurable. Li Xin was unlucky, beset by misfortune and suffering.

The attending physician extended his hospitalization from one week to two, sedating him into a deep sleep. With no parents or family, the responsibility for medical consent fell to the oldest member of the pharmacy, Old Doctor Chu. This burden now fell upon the five pharmacy staff: they had to manage the shop and care for their young, troubled boss. It seemed the National Day holiday would be spent indoors.

Yet none of the five were dissatisfied; Li Xin had always treated them well, paid generous wages, and considered them family. If even they couldn’t help him now, Li Xin would truly be abandoned, lonely and miserable to the extreme.

Today, the first day, the duty of night watch fell to Zhang He. Guessing that the boss would sleep until midnight, Zhang curled up on a chair outside the ICU to rest. Inside, advanced machines would instantly alert the nurse’s station if anything went wrong.

In the dead of night, after more than ten hours of sleep, Li Xin awoke with a soft moan. Surveying his surroundings, he quickly understood his situation. Seeing Zhang He sleeping outside, he didn’t disturb him but resumed pondering the midday theory.

“My hypothesis is mature; I understand ‘King of Games’ thoroughly. Only this one conjecture remains. If I can verify it, I’ll soon reach level ten. Then I can summon an NPC. There are so many questions I need to ask. I’m desperate for answers.”

Brooding, Li Xin gently closed his eyes. Now, he would undertake a task that could decide the fate of the “King of Games.”

Nine deep breaths, one shallow, in measured sequence—Li Xin’s mind gradually calmed. He felt, searched, and thought, seeking a way to control his brainwaves and connect with the game chip.

Passive contact? No!

Passivity was a huge obstacle; he needed to break through, striving to master initiative. Then, no matter when or where, he could freely use the virtual illusion and reality state of “King of Games.”

After countless attempts, finally, Li Xin managed to guide his brainwaves, slowly approaching the location of the chip.

One centimeter, eight millimeters, six millimeters…

“I can do it, I can do it…” he kept reminding and encouraging himself, maintaining absolute tranquility.

Success.