The concept of a player

As everyone pondered the problem of staying safe while offline, Robert could not help chiming in. "Um... designer Bit. Could you give our characters a simple AI after we log out? Everyone has things to do in real life, after all. If we went out for a meal and came back to find that a character we'd spent ages leveling was gone, that would be incredibly frustrating. Judging by the game's backstory, there probably isn't a single completely safe place to log out on Pedetia right now..."

Robert's words set Bit thinking.

In an instant, his thoughts stopped focusing on the insignificant player souls before him and drifted toward something deeper, settling on the first weapon he had created with his own hands—[Xenos Must Die].

In truth, it had never been merely a mastercrafted Chainsword. It was Bit's first attempt, as the God of Information, to use his authority to create something offensive.

That Chainsword was, in essence, a conceptual weapon.

Its lethality did not stem from the usual principles of applied physics or biology—the speed of its teeth, for instance, the hardness of its materials, or how efficiently it tore through flesh. The reason it could cut through Cultists who had abandoned their humanity as easily as chopping vegetables was that, from the moment of its creation, it had been endowed with the core [concept] of "inflicting immense damage on nonhuman beings." The Chainsword was merely that concept's outward manifestation in the material world.

Yet even Bit had not expected the sword to naturally develop a vague consciousness after Robert used it. That consciousness was inherently filled with hatred for Xenos and a thirst to slaughter them, and this pure will, in turn, further strengthened the already powerful [concept]. The Adeptus Mechanicus might simply classify it as a "machine spirit," but Bit, who understood its true nature, clearly thought otherwise.

A bold idea flashed through Bit's consciousness.

What if I tried endowing these players with a core [concept]? The concept of [player] itself, for example.

No. Bit's thoughts instantly went deeper. This concept doesn't need me to bestow it. The moment I decided to "summon players," the instant these souls from another world answered the summons and arrived here, the entirely new concept of [player] was already born. Perhaps a vague reflection belonging to "players" already exists within the Warp's projections. I simply never noticed it before...

Concepts... concepts...

What had begun as a spur-of-the-moment act had given him a completely new, revolutionary understanding of his authority as the God of Information. Bit felt increasingly grateful that he had decided to summon players. Had he continued wandering alone and empty-handed through the boundless Warp, he might not have stumbled upon such precious inspiration even after another ten thousand years.

Naturally, Bit bore no ill will toward the players who had unwittingly given his research such tremendous inspiration. He brought his thoughts back to the present and, facing their expectant gazes, replied, "This isn't a simple task. I can't give you a definite answer right now."

Now that he truly understood what he was doing, Bit decided to approach this matter with the utmost caution. This was by no means something he could solve by slapping a simple AI script onto each player's body when they logged out. What lay behind it was the definition and shaping of a newborn concept. One careless move could have unpredictable consequences.

Disappointment appeared on the players' faces at this vague answer. It seemed they would really have to put more thought into logging out from now on. Perhaps the best approach would be to form regular teams, taking turns logging in to stand guard and logging out to rest.

This undoubtedly made the game even less appealing to casual and moderately active players with irregular schedules.

While Bit and the players conducted this question-and-answer session across dimensions, far away on Earth, the atmosphere in a chat group called "Dr. Ruan's Direct Radio Station" was growing rather strange.

[Moyufeng]: "Weird. How come Brother Ruan hasn't said anything all day? Has he just been lurking?"

[HasItUpdatedToday]: "Yeah, he'd usually be spamming the chat like crazy by this time. He's so quiet today it's like this is a fake account."

[ILoveBrotherRuanForever]: "I can understand him not uploading a video. Nagging him won't help, anyway. But not showing up in the group for a whole day? That's definitely not normal! I checked all his social media, and his last post was yesterday: 'Got picked for the closed beta of that new Warhammer game. Going to try it out.' Could the game really be that fun?"

The fans in the group buzzed with speculation. For Robert, a gaming UP master known for being approachable and constantly interacting with his fans, going a day without uploading a video was normal enough. But going a whole day without saying a single word in his core fan group? That was about as likely as the sun rising in the west.

Meanwhile, Robert himself, the subject of his fans' heated discussion, finally felt that sensation of being pulled away return after the question-and-answer session ended. The bizarre sights before him rapidly faded, and his consciousness plummeted like a kite with a snapped string before being securely "installed" back into his familiar body.

"Click."

The Game Pod's lid popped open automatically, letting soft indoor light spill inside. Robert sat up somewhat sluggishly and climbed out of the Game Pod.

The instant his feet touched the floor, an intense sense of wrongness swept through his entire body.

My limbs... they're so weak.

He tried taking a couple of steps and felt as though he were carrying an enormous weight. Every step was heavy and sluggish. He took a deep breath, but his chest felt like a worn-out bellows, his lungs working with pitiful inefficiency. Breathing was nowhere near as easy and natural as it had been in the "game."

He quickly realized what was happening—this was an aftereffect of the game being too realistic.

Although an ordinary Astra Militarum soldier was insignificant in the brutal Warhammer universe, little more than cannon fodder, the physical fitness forged by rigorous training made that soldier superhuman in every respect compared with a typical out-of-shape, twenty-first-century shut-in like him. After getting used to that body's strength and endurance, returning to his own left him struggling to adjust to the stark contrast.

"Man... this game is seriously incredible." Robert once again marveled at its utter realism, then remembered his actual job as a gaming UP master.

He shook his head, forced himself to adjust to this "frail" body, and hurried over to his desk to start his computer.

The three short days he had spent on the planet called Pedetia had given him an unprecedented, almost overflowing wealth of inspiration for videos. From the Hive City air that had put them in their place right from the start, to their first bloody battle against Cultists, to their conversation with the designer "Bit," every moment was epic material.

He had to record these ideas and memories right now, immediately, and organize them into a script.

Robert had an overwhelming premonition that the video he was about to make would absolutely go viral online!