Paradise Game

The Heart of the Ocean, in the Atlantic.

In a luxurious suite on the ship's top deck, four passengers sat around a long table, sizing one another up.

Only VIP guests could book rooms on the upper decks, so these people were mostly rich or influential. The reason they had gathered here wasn't to discuss business, but to play a game.

A thrilling game that, by all accounts, was beyond the limits of imagination.

"Since we're sitting here anyway, why don't we introduce ourselves?" A middle-aged man spoke up in English. "Hey, I assume you can all understand me, right? I'm James Qiao, an American. What about you?"

No one replied.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

"Okay, okay. How about French? No? Chinese, then? I know a little Russian, too." He switched through several languages in quick succession.

"Enough. This isn't a talk show." Someone finally cut off his chatter. "We're all here for some fun. What does it matter if we don't know each other?"

"Think of it as making a friend." James lifted the champagne on the table and gestured toward the other man. "Besides, none of us knows what this game will be like. If we end up needing to work as a team, getting acquainted now will save time, won't it?"

The man raised an eyebrow, seemingly persuaded. "...Anthony Chekhov. You're all welcome to come hunting in Siberia sometime." He looked older than the others, nearly fifty, and had the grandest air about him. At least nine of his ten fingers bore rings, some set with gemstones and others carved from bone. They were dazzling to behold.

Strangely enough, though he looked Slavic and had a distinctly Russian-sounding name, he spoke fluent Chinese.

"If it's only hunting, I'd rather go to South Africa." James turned his gaze to the only woman among them. "And you, miss? What should we call you?"

"Asahara Naruko," the woman replied. Then she pointed to the large man behind her. "He's my guardian. There's no need to introduce him to everyone."

"You bring a bodyguard along even when you're out having fun?" Chekhov said, stroking one of his rings with a pointed look. "I'd rather not have some unrelated person watching me while I enjoy myself."

"Once the Host arrives, he'll leave."

"But, young miss—"

"You needn't say another word," Naruko interrupted in Japanese.

The large man had no choice but to fall silent.

"My name is Zhou Zhi..." Seeing everyone's eyes turn to him, the last young man lifted his chin slightly. "I boarded at the Port of Berlin, but my hometown is—"

"That's enough. There's no need to go into so much detail." James waved a hand, cutting him off. "When we meet the Host, I'll suggest that he set an age limit. Young people shouldn't get involved. Otherwise, the rest of their lives might feel dull by comparison."

The remark drew quiet laughter from the others.

Zhou Zhi's expression darkened.

"Does that include me, Mr. James?" Asahara Naruko asked calmly. "Judging by appearances, I'm about the same age as him."

The two of them were clearly the youngest passengers, both in their early twenties.

"Of course not. Restrictions never apply to beautiful ladies. That's true everywhere." James hurried to make amends.

"I can afford the ticket," Zhou Zhi stressed, each word deliberate.

"Of course. We all know that," the American said with a wink. "Just as we all know who really paid for it."

Zhou Zhi sprang to his feet.

"Forget it. The organizers don't care, so what difference does it make whose money they take?" Chekhov pressed a hand down, changing the subject. "What I'm curious about is how this game is played. I've sailed on Caribbean Company cruise ships before, but I've never heard of them advertising anything like this."

His question seemed to be on everyone's mind.

The Heart of the Ocean was one of the most luxurious cruise ships in the world, equipped with every kind of entertainment, from casinos to nightclubs. But they had experienced those luxuries—which most people could only dream of—countless times. They no longer held any novelty for them. That was why they had accepted the organizers' invitation to try a brand-new game without hesitation, even though the entry fee alone was a million dollars.

According to the invitation email, the event was unlike anything else and more thrilling than words could describe. Even extreme sports couldn't compare. It promised the most primal sensory excitement, an experience no one would ever forget.

Strangely, aside from that email, there had been no other information about the event aboard the ship. The other passengers seemed to know nothing about it, either. That wasn't quite what they'd expected. If the organizers had really come up with such an incredible event, surely it wouldn't have remained so obscure.

"Is it possible... that we're the first participants?" Zhou Zhi sat back down. "We've got people here from all over the world. If the event is really as exciting as they claim, news of it could spread across the globe by tomorrow."

"Or there's another possibility," the American said dismissively. "This event isn't suited to widespread publicity."

"Mr. James, do you mean..." Naruko looked at him.

"Could an ordinary game really get any of you interested?" he countered.

Anthony Chekhov smiled knowingly.

An ordinary game meant a legal one, of course. If life were a game, then the law was its biggest set of rules.

The more rules you broke, the more thrilling it became.

"Young miss..." The large man frowned again.

"But we're on a cruise ship," Zhou Zhi reminded them. "No matter how astonishing the game's concept is, they have to make it work aboard the ship. I can't imagine what new tricks they could pull off here."

It wasn't as if they could stage a real-life battle royale.

"Why don't we make a guess?" James pulled a casino chip from his pocket. Its golden edge marked it as worth two hundred thousand. "Winner takes all. How about a little wager before the game?"

A two-hundred-thousand-dollar wager between four people meant a total pot of eight hundred thousand.

Even without counting his own stake, winning six hundred thousand in one go would still be a substantial sum.

"No need. There's no way you'll guess it."

Someone suddenly interrupted.

They turned toward the voice and saw a man enter the room, dressed in a purple waistcoat and plain black trousers. A red-and-black Sichuan Opera Mask completely concealed his face. A name tag on his chest bore the characters Chaoyang in several languages.

There was no doubt about it. He was the game's Host.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. The game is ready, and we can begin at once."

"Wait, wait, wait. We're starting right here?" James put away his chip. "You haven't even explained what kind of game this is."

"Exactly," Chekhov agreed. "Shouldn't there be some kind of explanation of how to play?"

"Actually, none of that matters." The Host smiled. "Look at the table."

At some point, a pair of VR Goggles had appeared in front of each of them!

The VR Goggles themselves were nothing unusual. What shocked them was that the table was made of stone, with nothing beneath it but its legs. There was nowhere to hide a compartment or anything of the sort. The Host had stood by the door ever since entering and hadn't gone near the table. How had the goggles appeared in just a few seconds?

"So... the game you've planned really is just a game?" The Russian picked up the VR Goggles, his face dark with displeasure.

That was already a remarkably restrained reaction.

If the goggles hadn't appeared out of nowhere and startled him, he would probably have slammed the table and walked out already.

They expected people like them to play a video game? And the organizers had claimed it would be an unforgettable experience? They were obviously treating them like fools! What sort of people could afford to board this ship? Who among them hadn't tasted every delicacy or traveled to the mountaintops and across the seas? Anything money could buy was nothing special to them.

Virtual games? They were just a pastime for the poor!

"Didn't the email say that the game itself was beyond the limits of imagination, and that language was too impoverished to describe it?" The Host remained courteous. "I haven't explained it because it can't be explained. All you have to do is put on the goggles and experience it for yourselves."

The four exchanged glances.

But the Host had a point. They were already here, and putting on the VR Goggles wouldn't take much effort. If the organizers had falsely advertised the game, they had ways of making Caribbean Company answer for it. And then a million-dollar entry fee would be the least of their worries.

For a company devoted to luxury cruises, its reputation—especially among the rich and powerful—was of paramount importance.

"Fine, let's give it a try." James let out an exaggerated sigh. "But you'd better watch out for the angry Russian. If you can't satisfy him, the tigers in Siberia won't mind having an extra snack."

"Young miss, I'll wait outside." Seeing the others put on the goggles, the large man finally relaxed. He bowed slightly to Naruko, then left the room.

After the others had put on their VR Goggles, Zhou Zhi placed his over his face as well.

"I'm ready. Now what?"

No one answered. The people around him were so quiet, it was as if the entire room had frozen.

Wait, these were goggles, not earmuffs. How could they have made the room go silent?

Something was wrong!

Zhou Zhi reached up to grab the VR Goggles and take them off, but his fingers touched his own face. There was nothing there except his eyes.

A blinding flash of white light shot into his pupils, and he couldn't help screaming!

The next second, his vision returned. An endless sea and blue sky filled his view.

Zhou Zhi was stunned.

He wasn't the only one. Everyone was stunned.

The luxurious suite aboard the Heart of the Ocean had vanished. In its place was an old wooden boat. It couldn't have crossed the Atlantic; even a wave barely a meter high could have flipped it over.

"W-what happened to me?!" someone suddenly cried. "This isn't my body!"

"Who... are you?"

"Damn it, say your names! I'm James Qiao!"

"Asahara Naruko."

"I'm Zhou Zhi."

One by one, they gave their names. Their expressions eased a little once they'd confirmed that they were all participants in the game.

"Fuck, what is this? Hey, Host, are you still there?" James looked around, his voice tense.

"Of course." The masked man appeared in the middle of the boat. Unlike the others, he was translucent, like an apparition. "Welcome to Paradise."

"Блять, блять, блять! What kind of technology is this? It's just like the real thing!" The Russian swore several times in a row, as if that were the only way to express his shock. He leaned over the side of the boat and scooped up some water. "Damn! The temperature, the texture... Everything I can feel is no different from reality!"

Then Chekhov cupped a handful of water and drank it.

"Ptooey—it's so salty! The water even has a taste!"

He didn't need to say it aloud; the others could feel it, too. The faint warmth of the sunlight on their skin, the slightly briny smell of the sea breeze, the rough planks beneath their feet scraping against them—all of it went far beyond what VR could reproduce.

"How... did you do this?" James asked doubtfully. "Are we really still on the Heart of the Ocean?"

"If we moved your bodies without your permission, it would be a serious violation. You are all VIP customers, so please rest assured. You can leave the game at any time." The Host nodded and explained unhurriedly. "As for the technology, the development company's rules prevent me from revealing much. But I can tell you that it uses cutting-edge Neural Signal Simulation technology, affecting far more than just your vision. The Paradise game is its first application. I hope you enjoy it."

"I still can't believe... this is all virtual." Zhou Zhi murmured. He looked at his reflection in the water. He was wearing tattered leather clothes, and though his body beneath them was small, it had clearly been honed through hardship. The strength coiled within him wasn't something a layabout could possess. "I also feel full of energy. Even if a shark came along, I could tear it apart."

"Save the boasting, kid," Chekhov teased. "The game can set your strength as high as it likes. It can't do the same for your courage."

"Hahahaha..."

"I'm not so sure he's the biggest coward here." Naruko didn't join the others in laughing. Instead, she raised a hand and pointed to the American at the bow. Her appearance had changed as well. She was still a woman, but her beautiful black hair and delicate features were gone. Now she looked like a scrawny kid worn down by poverty and hardship, though her voice remained calm and steady.

Only then did everyone notice how badly James's hand was shaking.

"Damn it, what are you staring at!?" James gritted his teeth and cursed. "I'm just a little worked up, that's all. Damn... Anyone got a cigarette? I need a smoke."

The Host raised a hand, and a cigarette appeared in it in the blink of an eye.

"...Thanks." James shakily put the cigarette in his mouth and took a long drag. "So, what's next? Surely the point of this game isn't to sit on the sea and admire the scenery?"

"In theory, Paradise doesn't restrict what participants can do. You're free to do whatever you like." The Host smiled. "But since this is your first time in Paradise, I've added a little guidance. Look by your feet—"

Zhou Zhi turned around and immediately shivered.

In the shadow beneath the gunwale lay more than a dozen rusty weapons. There were scimitars, short swords, and spears of every kind. Their blades were stained with dark, dried blood. They clearly weren't there for decoration.

"How about you all play pirates this time?" The Host spread his hands and smiled.

It's finally here—my new book! I hope you'll show it plenty of support!