One Day in Reality, Two and a Half Days in Warhammer? (Seeking Follow-up Reads)

Wang Zhong clicked logout.

The sensation of his consciousness being pulled away was peculiar, like rapidly surfacing from the deep sea. The incessant roar of the refinery still echoed in his ears, and the stench of sulfur, metal, and sweat seemed to linger in his nostrils.

Then, he opened his eyes.

The familiar gaming chair, the familiar desk, and on the screen, the login page for Era 40k: Mecha, now rendered in pitch black.

Outside the window, the sunlight was blinding. The afternoon light spilled through the gaps in the curtains onto the floor, where dust motes drifted slowly within the beams.

Wang Zhong sat dazed for three seconds, then suddenly raised his hand and pinched his cheek hard.

"Sss, it hurts."

It wasn't a dream.

He had truly returned.

He had returned from that Warhammer world—where you had to pay taxes just to breathe, where the lash actually hurt, and where the nutrient paste tasted like Nurgle's soup—back to his rental apartment with a private bathroom that cost two thousand five hundred a month.

"Wait..."

He grabbed the phone on the desk and unlocked the screen.

17:03

Five-oh-three in the afternoon.

Wang Zhong's brain buzzed.

He clearly remembered entering the game around eleven o'clock last night. In the game, he had experienced being captured, imprisoned, interrogated, exiled, mining, stealing ore, planning a rebellion... at least two days and one night had passed.

Even if the game had time acceleration, this was too absurd.

"Eighteen hours in reality, about 60 hours in the game?"

He muttered, his eyes suddenly brightening. "A 1:3.33 time dilation ratio? Holy crap, this is a massive profit! It's equivalent to extending my lifespan!"

Of course, that was assuming he didn't die in the game; although he could respawn, the pain was real.

Immediately after, another thought slammed into his mind: today was Monday, and he was supposed to have clocked in for work at nine this morning.

"Crap, I'm absent!"

Wang Zhong scrambled to grab his phone, found the number saved as "Black-Hearted Boss," and dialed.

The phone rang several times before it was picked up, and an impatient voice came from the other end:

"Hello? Wang Zhong? Where are you today? Don't want to work anymore, huh?"

"Boss, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!"

Wang Zhong immediately shifted into character, his voice weak and raspy. "I had food poisoning last night, vomiting and diarrhea. I just got back from the hospital this morning, I didn't even have the strength to look at my phone... I can send you a photo of my medical records..."

"Fine, fine!"

The boss cut him off, his tone still unpleasant. "Your perfect attendance bonus for this month is gone. Ask for leave in advance next time! If you don't show up tomorrow, don't bother coming at all!"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Boss!"

Hanging up the phone, Wang Zhong let out a long breath and wiped away a bead of non-existent cold sweat.

Thank goodness, his job was safe for now.

Although he was currently craving to rush back into that world to continue being a miner—damn, that thought was terrifying—he still needed this job to pay for his rent, utilities, and food in reality.

He steadied himself, first picking up his phone to order takeout, then immediately opened the Tieba app and entered the Warhammer forum.

His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen to post.

Title: [The Tragedy of Alru]

Content: ...

Poster: Loyal to the Emperor Forever

Six dots, that was enough.

Those who knew, understood.

After posting, he exited the forum and opened QQ. Their small group of twenty-some people, "Terra Underground Network Tavern (Non-Heretical)," was already blowing up with 99+ messages.

Wang Zhong clicked in and browsed quickly.

[Schrodinger's Loyalist]: "I'm back! Brothers, I'm still alive! Though my arm still seems to be hurting..."

[The Emperor's Taxes Must Be Paid Even If The World Ends]: "Damn, damn, damn! It's only five in the afternoon in reality! I felt like two days passed in the game!"

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "The time flow is inconsistent; preliminary estimates put the ratio between 1:2.5 and 1:4."

"This technology... it's incredible."

[Soul of Cadia]: "I look at my floor at home and feel affection for it now! At least it won't let a foreman whip me!"

[Ask yourself every day if you are loyal]: "Did anyone get whipped? I took one lash! That feeling... my back still feels a bit numb!"

[Golden Big Shot]: "I didn't get hit!"

"But I almost got caught by a one-eyed foreman while stealing ore. I was so scared I shoved the ore right into my mouth; I can still feel the grit between my teeth..."

[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "So we've confirmed it now, right? It really is a Warhammer world? Not some high-quality knockoff?"

[I am not the Regent, just a passing Guilliman]: "Based on the evidence: Imperial Coin, promethium, psychic powers, Alru Group, Simans Chamber of Commerce, hive city architecture, and that 'In the name of the Emperor' line... it's basically a confirmed kill."

"But the specific timeline still needs verification."

[Slaanesh Chosen Reserve]: "I tried to discuss the possibility of 'great harmony of life' with a female NPC, and the way she looked at me was like I was trash... The AI in this game is way too realistic!"

[Nurgle Loving Father Loves All]: "Accept it. In the Warhammer world, bottom-tier expendables like us don't get to have love; we only get whips and nutrient paste."

[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "I think we can't just keep mining! We need to do something big!"

[The Emperor's Sword]: "@Loyal to the Emperor Forever, Brother Loyal! Is the group set up yet? Add me, quick!"

Wang Zhong typed rapidly: "Hold on, brothers, I'm creating the main group and will pull everyone in."

He exited the small group, created a new one on QQ, and without hesitation, entered the name: [Alru First Generation Fellow Workers Group].

Once created, he pulled in all twenty-some acquaintances from the small group, then posted the group number and invitation link under that six-dot post on the Tieba forum, adding: "Brothers, send me a private message on the forum, and I'll pull you into the main group."

"Let's chat in the main group."

For the next two hours, Wang Zhong's life became: eat takeout, watch the phone, open a Tieba private message, copy the QQ number, search, send a join request, and move to the next message.

The private messages exploded.

[Warhammer 40k is the Best] sent contact info.

[For the Emperor, Blast Chaos] sent contact info.

[Mars Mechanicus Fugitive Sage] sent contact info.

[Khorne Grant Me Eight-Pack Abs] sent contact info.

[Tzeentch Gave Me This Exam Paper] sent contact info.

[Slaanesh Said Wait for Me Tonight] sent contact info.

[Nurgle Praised My Good Body] sent contact info.

[Tau-kun, you are right] sent contact info.

Wang Zhong's eyes twitched. With IDs this arrogant, these guys would probably die faster than anyone else once they actually hit the Warhammer world.

The join requests kept pouring in.

Soon, the 200-person limit was reached.

Wang Zhong had to painfully spend 1,000 credits—equivalent to half a month's rent—to upgrade the group to a 10,000-person capacity.

His heart bled as he spent the money, but then he thought of the dozens of brothers in the game who had been dragged off to experiments and died miserable deaths.

He thought of the power whip that could lash down at any moment, and that revolting, foul-tasting nutrient paste... this money had to be spent!

Five hours later, 10:00 PM.

[Alru First Generation Fellow Workers Group] member count: 4,961.

Almost every player who had logged in at Workshop No. 7 had joined.

There were also some who claimed to have respawned in other locations, describing different spots, but all on Aurelian IV. After Wang Zhong verified them, he pulled them in as well; these scattered brothers might be potential reinforcements in the future.

Wang Zhong changed the group announcement to:

[Group Announcement]

1. This group is for players of Era 40k: Mecha.

2. The in-game time flow is approximately 1:3.33 compared to reality; please adjust your schedules accordingly.

3. Current main objective: Work as miners at Alru No. 3 Refinery, steal ore to save money, and prepare to stir up trouble.

4. In-game shift system: 7-8 PM and 2-3 AM (real-time) are in-game rest periods; two people must remain online on rotation.

5. Game data is being compiled in the group files; contributions are welcome.

6. For the Emperor (tentative)!

As soon as the announcement went up, the group chat flooded.

[All] Group Owner [Loyal to the Emperor Forever] changed the group announcement to "For the Emperor (tentative)!"

[Mechanicus Oil-Lover on the Run]: "The word 'tentative' is the essence."

"Until we confirm the current status of His Majesty the Emperor, maintain a cautious loyalty."

[Tau-kun, you are right, but Bolter is righter]: "If it's 30k, and the Emperor is still out there leading the Primarchs on the Great Crusade, then shouting 'For the Emperor' is fine."

"But if it's 40k... the Emperor is sitting on the Golden Throne; even if we shout, he won't hear us, right?"

[Soul of Cadia]: "You still have to shout in 40k! It's faith! Do you understand faith?"

"Even if faith can't put food on the table, at least it lets us die with a sense of ritual!"

[Dog of the Third Primarch]: "I just want to know, where in the galaxy is this Aurelian IV of ours?"

"I've scoured the Warhammer star maps, background books, and even fan-fiction collections, and I can't find this planet anywhere."

[I am not the Regent, just a passing Guilliman]: "A few possibilities: First, it's a background planet GW hasn't written about yet. Second, it's a frontier world in the Segmentum Ultima with scarce data. Third, we've actually transmigrated into a fan-fiction universe."

[Don't ask, I think it will work]: "A fan-fiction universe? Then who's the author? Do they update frequently? Will they abandon the story?"