SB Ch7: Mechanical Wrist Bone

Prev | Table of Contents | Next

Chapter 7: Can we return to reality every time the game ends?

Zhong Yirou looked at An Wujiu and then stared at Shen Ti’s mask.

“You two are playing tricks on me.”

“No,” An Wujiu shook his head, his expression serious.

Zhong Yirou looked at him with a skeptical expression as he picked up the bottle of wine he had just placed on the ground. Seeing the wine bottle in his hand, she asked incredulously, “Where did this come from? I don’t remember having it in our supplies.”

An Wujiu pointed directly at Shen Ti with the bottle and confessed, “It’s his.”

“You dare to drink something that belongs to him? What if it’s poisoned?” Zhong Yirou almost rolled her eyes. She couldn’t help but think that the boy in front of her, who looked like a white rabbit, didn’t seem like the person Yang Ming described.

Could this be a scam? Finding the initial targets and then attacking them one by one?

An Wujiu explained, “I drank it after he did.”

“Okay…” Zhong Yirou finally understood and looked at Shen Ti. “Then where did you get it from?”

Shen Ti, being questioned, brought up his virtual panel and switched to the interface for point redemption. His fingers slid around, searching for the same wine, and showed it to both of them.

From his actions, An Wujiu could even sense a hint of pride and arrogance.

Zhong Yirou’s reaction was even bigger than An Wujiu had imagined. “Are you crazy? Each person only has one chance to redeem something in each round of the game, and you used it to buy alcohol?”

She glanced at the price tag under the wine on the screen and couldn’t help but want to pinch herself. “This bottle of wine is actually priced at 3,000 holy coins! In the last round of the game, I only earned 5,000 coins. How can they set such an outrageous price? Why don’t they just go rob someone?” 

After saying that, she took a deep breath, calming herself down. “No, I can’t lose my temper. Losing temper is not elegant.”

Shen Ti shrugged and casually swiped his finger, as if showing her other product interfaces.

An Wujiu paid special attention and suddenly understood why Shen Ti hadn’t purchased anything else. It was probably due to the nature of this game that the food and beverages on the product pages were marked as unavailable for purchase. The only thing they could buy was this high-priced wine.

“So expensive,” he muttered to himself, and then proactively handed the bottle of wine back to Shen Ti. If it weren’t for his injured right hand, he would have returned it with both hands. “Sorry, I… only took a sip.”

But Shen Ti only glanced at his hand and then raised his head to make a cross gesture to An Wujiu, indicating that he refused to take it.

“He must not like it; such a wasteful person!” Zhong Yirou shook her head and said to An Wujiu, “You can have it. You don’t have any other supplies anyway.”

Her tone made An Wujiu ponder for a moment. It seemed like she was comforting him with a hint of guilt.

After speaking, Zhong Yirou lightly tapped An Wujiu’s cheek with her slender fingers. “I wanted to say earlier, what’s wrong with your face? It’s so red, and there are fingerprints on it.” She leaned in closer. An Wujiu’s skin was very pale and thin, and the marks left by the other person were particularly visible.

“It’s nothing.” An Wujiu shook his head lightly.

Zhong Yirou didn’t believe him. Her eyebrows furrowed. “Someone bullied you, right?!”

An Wujiu didn’t say anything. He stared at Zhong Yirou’s face.

He wasn’t trying to show off or act tough; he wanted to display his vulnerability and innocence in front of those who had already targeted him.

There seemed to be a mix of anger and righteousness on her face, but he wasn’t sure if he could trust this woman. However, if he were to quantify their current level of perception on a scale, the side of “trust” would undoubtedly have gained a slight more tilt.

If isolation was inevitable under Yang Ming’s guidance, then An Wujiu needed to use this isolation to create an image of helplessness that couldn’t be resisted.

In the end, An Wujiu didn’t respond to Zhong Yirou’s words. Instead, he posed another question, “Why did you enter this game?”

Zhong Yirou glanced at him and corrected, “Not ‘you,’ it’s ‘us.'”

Because of An Wujiu’s phrasing, she seemed to be starting to accept the possibility of his amnesia. Her facial expression relaxed a bit. “Everyone has different reasons for coming in. Some are for money; they want a lot of it. Some just want to live in a wealthy area, breathe clean air, and see the sunlight. Some want to save lives, their own or others’…”

She smiled, “In the end, it’s all the same, just trying to satisfy our own desires.”

Save lives.

This keyword caught An Wujiu’s attention.

He speculated that his initial purpose for entering was most likely to save his bedridden mother. But he was somewhat surprised. He had thought that many of the participating players would be forced into it, but it turned out that they all voluntarily joined.

Was he the same back then?

Nowadays, access to proper medical resources is astronomical for ordinary people. If he wanted to save his dying mother, he could only spend money, a lot of money.

Perhaps this was his only option. 

“Do you know what? After I won the first round and returned to reality, I exchanged all my holy coins for cash prizes, a total of 20,000 RMB. I bought beautiful clothes and had a delicious meal.” Zhong Yirou’s expression didn’t match the happiness and excitement she described. “That was the first time I had a real steak, not the cheap synthetic protein, but actual meat. I even opened a bottle of wine and poured two full glasses, and I spilled one on the ground.” She made a small expression as if she feared being accused of wasting and explained, “It was for my friend.”

“Sorry,” An Wujiu said softly.

Zhong Yirou smiled. “Why are you apologizing? It has nothing to do with you.”

An Wujiu asked again, “Can you return to reality after each game ends?”

Zhong Yirou nodded. “Yes, you can. But you only have 24 hours. If you don’t return to the game pod within that time, you’ll be executed.” She pointed to her forehead with her finger. “Remember the man before the warm-up game? He met the same fate.”

24 hours…

At least that way, they could see each other.

“Oh,” Zhong Yirou crossed her arms and glanced at An Wujiu’s suspended hand. “How did you get injured? Don’t you remember?”

An Wujiu snapped back to reality and shook his head.

“You must have suffered severe injuries in the previous round to get such a serious wound.”

His entire right arm was severely bruised, and his right wrist was torn open, leaving a jagged wound that looked like it had been sawed by an electric saw. If it weren’t for the metallic skeleton, his hand would probably be gone.

Zhong Yirou mentioned it, but it made An Wujiu enter deep thought.

If what Yang Ming said was true, that he was on the same level as him and that he had manipulated the game to achieve the ultimate victory, then why was he severely injured while Yang Ming was perfectly fine, without even a hint of damage to his suit?

It didn’t make sense. But if what Yang Ming said was a lie, his eyes couldn’t hide the fear he had for An Wujiu.

As An Wujiu lifted his gaze, he noticed Zhong Yirou squinting her eyes slightly. She furrowed her brows, staring at his wrist, or more precisely, his mechanical wrist bone.

Her expression clearly indicated that she had discovered something.

However, she quickly raised her hand, found an excuse to change the subject, and turned to Shen Ti, who had been standing silently beside them. “By the way, I want to see your room.” She walked to Room No. 7 but couldn’t turn the doorknob.

An Wujiu calmly said to her, “You forgot about the rules.”

“Oh, right,” Zhong Yirou slapped her forehead. “You can’t enter other rooms freely.”

Her unusual behavior tilted the balance in An Wujiu’s mind slightly towards “distrust”.

However, among these people, An Wujiu always felt that Shen Ti, who acted mysteriously and didn’t speak, was even less trustworthy. But at this moment, Shen Ti didn’t move an inch and just stood in front of him.

An Wujiu had thought he was already tall, but Shen Ti was still half a head taller. He was completely wrapped up, with even his hands constantly wearing gloves, revealing only his neck.

An Wujiu suddenly noticed a pattern on his Adam’s apple—a sun totem with an eye at the center.

Hearing a sigh, An Wujiu finally shifted his gaze and saw Zhong Yirou taking off the scroll bag she had been carrying on her back.

“I can’t give you supplies; that would be clearly taking sides, equivalent to seeking death,” Zhong Yirou said realistically. “But I can help you with your wound. Consider it a favor.”

She hooked the corner of her mouth, smiling beautifully. “Remember it.”

The scroll bag opened, revealing a row of neatly arranged tools, from scalpels to screwdrivers and even a pair of forceps.

An Wujiu didn’t speak; he only furrowed his brow slightly.

When Zhong Yirou reached out her hand towards him, An Wujiu noticed that the palm of her left hand must have suffered a serious injury. It was also artificial skin, with a round mirror embedded in the center of her palm. The metal ring and the rough junction between the stretched artificial skin gave it a strange beauty. Perhaps because she thought it didn’t look good, she simply dyed the entire palm of artificial skin fluorescent pink, creating a somewhat eerie aesthetic.

“Why did you install a mirror?” An Wujiu asked softly.

“Because I love beauty,” Zhong Yirou held her left palm in front of her and looked at it. “It’s so convenient.”

After saying that, she put her hand down and took out a small bottle of spray disinfectant for wounds. “I’m a prosthetic doctor, a professional. It might sting a bit.”

Although An Wujiu had already guessed the answer, he was still surprised by her frank assistance.

Zhong Yirou efficiently disinfected An Wujiu’s wrist and muttered, “This wound… If only we had miniature wound-cleaning robots.”

“Hey, Masked Man,” she called out to Shen Ti and tossed a small flashlight into his arms. “Help out, shine a light.”

“Why are you so pale?” Zhong Yirou lowered her head and gazed at An Wujue’s forearm. “Even after being dead for three days, I won’t be this pale.”

Shen Ti coughed inside his mask, as if choked by Zhong Yirou’s words, then chuckled softly. Just listening to that laughter made him seem less strange.

He turned on the flashlight and shone it on An Wujiu’s wrist, but as he did, he trembled as if startled by the sight of the wound.

After disinfecting the suturing needle, Zhong Yirou pursed her lips, and her expression became unusually serious.

“I don’t have anesthesia needles, but I’ll sew it up quickly.”

“Okay. Thank you.” An Wujue remained calm, even focused, as he observed the process of his wound being treated. He watched intently as the thin needle pierced his skin and skillfully stitched together the torn flesh.

“What happened to your wrist bone?” Zhong Yirou’s eyes focused on the wound as she carefully sutured it, but she asked about An Wujiu’s past, even though he might not be able to provide an answer.

“I don’t remember,” An Wujiu said.

“Ordinary people don’t replace their intact wrist bones with mechanical ones. This surgery is very risky,” she stitched carefully, not wanting to leave obvious scars on the person in front of her. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” An Wujiu asked.

Shen Ti, standing beside them, waved his arm between the two, but his gloved hand remained hidden in his sleeve.

Zhong Yirou raised her head and nodded. “A disabled person.” However, she quickly dismissed this possibility. “But your hand is not a complete prosthetic. The skin and muscle tissue are naturally formed. It’s not possible to have a severed hand and directly attach a new one.”

It was indeed suspicious.

“What is this…” Zhong Yirou opened An Wujiu’s forearm to inspect the inner side and found a very fine old injury—a slightly raised, elongated scar running along the bone. She rolled up his sleeve, and the mark continued to extend upward.

“Let me see.” She grabbed An Wujiu’s other arm and continued her examination, then furrowed her brow and asked seriously, “An Wujiu, do you really not remember anything? Do you know who you are and where you come from?”

An Wujiu was certain that Zhong Yirou had discovered something, but he genuinely had no memory.

“I don’t remember how I entered the game or what happened after I entered. But I do have memories from my birth until before I entered the game. I come from an ordinary background. My mother raised me and my sister all by herself. The education I received as a child came from my mother. Later, I went to an ordinary university to study. When I was in my sophomore year, my mother fell seriously ill.”

Zhong Yirou asked, “What illness?”

An Wujiu tried hard to recall and finally found an electronic medical record in his memory.

“Brain tumor… She started experiencing hallucinations and auditory illusions, and she even lost her eyesight.”

Zhong Yirou fell into silence.

“You entered the game because you didn’t have the money to treat her, right?” She drew this conclusion and stared at him with doubt. “Are you really not lying?”

An Wujiu shook his head.

Shen Ti stood by silently and also shook his head. It was unclear whether he heard their conversation or not, but he was going along with the atmosphere.

However, An Wujiu was stunned.

Just a moment ago, he suddenly heard a certain sound, like the collision of seashell wind chimes he had heard as a child, but it was very faint, almost inaudible.

Following the sound, An Wujiu looked toward Shen Ti, who wore the mechanical mask.

But Shen Ti just kept his head down, taking the role of an operating table with a surgical light very seriously.

Prev | Table of Contents | Next


Support me on Ko-fi

Join my Discord

One Comment

LEAVE A REPLY