DTTM 59

Chapter 59: That was close, I made it just in time

When I woke up, I found myself lying in bed, and Zong Yanlei was nowhere to be seen in the room.

I reached out and touched my side; the bed was already cold. Checking my phone, I realized he had left early that morning.

From that day until the eve of the fifth leg of the competition, although we exchanged messages every day, we didn’t see each other again, let alone practice together.

For the next two weeks, this “absence” became the norm.

In the first week, Zong Yanlei issued a formal statement, tearing apart the facade he had maintained for six years and admitting that his marriage with Chu Luo had been a mere formality.

Not long after, Chu Luo returned to Baiyujing alone and met with the King of Penglai together with Zong Yanlei.

It was said that His Majesty, who had not appeared for a long time, flew into a rage in the royal court, reprimanding the two mercilessly, saying that they had brought shame to the royal family and made Penglai a laughing stock of the world.

In the second week, Wuxi Li, as the chief press officer of the royal family, dropped two bombshells in front of the media that were enough to paralyze the entire Penglai server:

First, Chu Luo will formally leave the royal family, be stripped of her princess title, and demoted to a commoner; second, Chu Luo and Zong Yanlei’s marriage will be dissolved immediately, with custody of their two children divided equally between them, but their daily routines must strictly follow the arrangements of the Royal Protocol Department.

In just two weeks, the once noble Princess of Penglai fell from grace.

Perhaps the King of Penglai himself knew that public resentment had reached a critical point, and if the matter was not dealt with severely and resolved quickly, the longer it dragged on, the more detrimental it would be to the image of the royal family.

This was naturally a great thing for “Free Will,” but when I saw Chu Luo’s haggard yet resolute face in the news, and watched a once most powerful contender for the throne exit the stage of history in this way, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness.

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The fifth round of the race will be held in Wo Province, a first in GTC history.

Wo Province, formerly known as the Kingdom of Wo, was a place where, after Bondor instigated internal strife, expelled the Yu clan, and occupied the Kingdom of Wo, he quickly chose to submit to Penglai in exchange for autonomy. Now, this land had been completely reorganized and had become a mining area under the jurisdiction of Penglai, mainly producing river pine stone.

As the train entered Wo Province, rolling hills stretched out on both sides of the railway.

The houses were low and closely spaced, with not a single decent high-rise building. The gray-brown mountains almost press down on the edge of the town, making it cramped and desolate.

Yi You leaned against the car window, curiously observing the scenery outside: “Xiao Man, have you been here before?”

“I was here a few years ago,” I answered softly, my gaze fixed on an abandoned mine shaft in the distance.

That was the first time I had returned to my homeland in twenty years since I left when I was five. I did it not for any other reason than to send my grandmother’s and Wei Nuan’s ashes back here for burial.

The journey wasn’t exactly pleasant, and it was then that I discovered a ridiculous fact, those Wo people who fled to Penglai had actually been doing quite well these past few years.

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Originally, Zong Yanlei was supposed to arrive in Wo Province after us, on the eve of the competition. But then came the heavy rain, which caused landslides along the railway line from Baiyujing to Wo Province, forcing the closure of many sections of track and halting train services on a large scale. He was stranded in the mountains hundreds of kilometers away.

By the early hours of the morning, there was still no news of the road opening. Seeing that he would miss the race if he delayed any longer, he made an almost crazy decision: abandon his car, call in a nearby four-wheel off-road vehicle, and forcibly cross the muddy and slippery mountain area caused by the heavy rain.

Since there was no substitute driver accompanying him, it meant that he not only had to drive alone on dangerous roads for more than ten hours, but also had to endure high levels of fatigue and get almost no rest.

Even so, there still wasn’t enough time.

Xu Chengye negotiated with the organizers of Wo Province all night, hoping to get some leeway, but they stuck to the rule of “no exceptions” and stated that if Zong Yanlei was not present at the opening ceremony, he would be considered to have forfeited the competition.

With the “hero’s” great cause about to be accomplished, how could I possibly fail here?

In the end, I could only secretly go to see Yu Xuan. For some reason, Chu Shengcheng also came to watch the Wo Province competition, and he even stayed at the same hotel as us.

“What is going on?”

At three in the morning, the entire city was completely silent. Although Yu Xuan rushed over as soon as he received my message, he looked grim.

He wore a deep red cloak, his hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, with faint red veins, were filled with the gloom of a disturbed dream.

The door closed behind him, and he stood in the entryway, showing no intention of going inside. I stood in front of him, but made no move to invite him in.

“I need your help.”

I explained Zong Yanlei’s situation to him and told him what to do next.

“Are you certain it’s too late?” Yu Xuan frowned after hearing this, looking reluctant.

“I’m certain.”

He remained silent for a long time, going through a series of internal struggles known only to himself, before finally nodding to indicate that he would handle it.

“Wait,” I thought for a moment before he left, then called out to him, tapping his neck lightly, “Be careful to cover it up. You left a mark.”

Behind his jawline, a large, bright red hickey, with faint traces of light purple teeth marks along its edges, was visible at the collar of his dark coat, exuding a sensual aura.

Yu Xuan froze abruptly. Almost reflexively, he raised his hand to cover that area, his previously pale face instantly turning ashen. He stared at me without saying anything, then quickly composed himself and walked out of the room.

Just before dawn, Xu Chengye’s message arrived.

The organizers finally relented and promised to retain Zong Yanlei’s eligibility to participate until the very last moment before the race started.

I stared at the screen for a few seconds before slowly putting down my phone and letting out a long breath.

Outside the window, the sky over Wo Province gradually brightened after the rain, and the outline of the mines emerged from the gloom, appearing and disappearing in the winter fog.

There were 12 hours left until the start of the race.

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All day long, the atmosphere at the Sun God team was as tense as a steel wire stretched to its limit, and no one dared to speak loudly.

Xu Chengye clutched his phone, repeatedly trying to get updates on the location of Zong Yanlei’s bodyguards. Due to signal issues, the call frequently dropped. Each time the call ended, Xu Chengye’s already pale face turned even paler.

“Don’t throw up! Hold on! I can only contact you. What will I do if you faint?!” On the eve of the opening ceremony, Xu Chengye was still screaming into his phone.

Just as we were about to go on stage, and the staff had already started urging the contestants to prepare for their performance, Xu Chengye rushed to my side, sweating profusely, holding his phone and gesturing for me to answer it.

My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly answered, “Hello?”

The moment the phone was brought to my ear, the first sound I heard wasn’t a human voice, but the distinctive rumbling of wheels speeding over potholes and puddles, accompanied by the crisp sound of pebbles hitting the chassis and raindrops pattering against the glass.

Then, penetrating the noise and poor signal, Zong Yanlei’s voice came through.

“Wait for me.”

There was no explanation, no apology, just three simple words, like a command.

I paused for a moment, then burst out laughing.

The surrounding area was the race track about to begin, with various racing teams eager to compete, and Xu Chengye on the verge of a nervous breakdown. But suddenly, all the noise was drowned out by those three words.

“Of course.” I felt relieved again. “Be careful on the road.”

Zong Yanlei still hadn’t arrived by the time Tan Yunmei, Yi You, and I entered the neuro-navigation pods.

At this point, there were three hours left before the official match.

The track design was quite characteristic of the Wo Province, with its winding course meandering through the undulating textures of the mines. The exposed rock strata were pitted and uneven, and grayish-brown dust hung in the air. Even without racing at high speeds, just standing still for a moment would leave a layer of dust on your mouth and nose.

The tracks for transporting ore crisscrossed the mine, and countless NPCs dressed as miners bustled about like worker ants, their movements repetitive and mechanical. Their blue and white uniforms were soaked through with thick layers of mine dust, turning them, along with their facial features, completely black.

Similarly, by bringing the real-world environment into the metaverse, I immediately thought of the previous Zengcheng station. In that competition, AI pedestrians were also set up and linked to a penalty mechanism.

“Will we be punished if we bump into them?” I asked the staff member next to me.

She drove the hover jeep steadily, chuckled at my words, and said in a cheerful tone, “No, not only will you not lose points, but you’ll actually gain points if you crash into them.”

She pointed to a group of miners passing under the car.

“Adults are worth 1 point, elders 5 points, and children…” She paused, her smile widening, “… 10 points! This round of the race uses a dual scoring system: one is the finishing time, and the other is the ‘miner collision.’ The car with the highest weighted total score from both categories will be the champion of this round of the race.”

What a twisted sense of humor.

Was it because so many people complained that the Zengcheng race track was boring, so this time they simply went against the grain and wanted to redeem themselves?

Thinking about it, I looked down at the “points”.

Once a country starts mining, all other economic forms on that land will be squeezed out and stifled. Farmland will disappear, cities will collapse, the land will be dug up beyond recognition, and people’s lives will be reduced to a single, linear path: revolving around the mines, with no other way out.

That’s how Wo Province was.

Among the miners on the surface, there were not only young and middle-aged people, but also hunched-over elderly people and children who were not yet fully grown. Everyone’s expression seemed to have been uniformly polished: numb, empty, and exhausted.

A little boy carrying ore instinctively looked up as the hovercar flew overhead.

For a fleeting moment, our eyes met.

A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes at first, as if he hadn’t expected to see a fellow countryman in such a high place. But quickly, when he saw the staff member beside me, he flinched, immediately lowered his head, and continued to laboriously push the ore toward the small train.

Something is wrong.

This doesn’t feel right.

These were micro-expressions that couldn’t be simulated by a program.

A ridiculous yet perfectly reasonable explanation suddenly occurred to me.

“Are these… real people?” I asked.

The woman beside me maintained her perfect smile, but her words were colder than the howling wind in the mining area: “Oh, you’re quite perceptive. Yes, each one is a real person ‘recruited’ from the surrounding mines. That’s what makes the reactions from such real encounters so exciting.”

I looked at the little boy, who was probably only ten years old, frowned, and asked again, “Do they also feel pain 100%?”

“Don’t worry, it won’t kill them, at most it’ll just hurt a little,” the woman said nonchalantly.

My throat felt instantly blocked by the dust-filled air, and I couldn’t utter a single word.

How cheap must human life be for even suffering to be so valued?

This time, I was more meticulous and patient than ever before in my track survey. I didn’t leave the track and return to the rest area until the very last minute, until I had memorized every section of terrain, every corner, and every “high-scoring zone”.

Not long after returning to the lounge, Yi You also came back. He looked terrible, his lips were pursed so tightly they were almost white, indicating that he also knew the truth about those “points”.

“Don’t say it.” Before he could speak, I suddenly stepped forward and grabbed his wrist.

“But Xiao Man… those people…” He stared at me, his eyes filled with disbelief.

I couldn’t stop here.

My choice was the right one.

Whether they are AI or real people, if the rules tell me to run them over, then I have to run them over.

“Don’t say anything.” I lowered my voice to a level only the two of us could hear. “If they’re angry afterward, they can be angry with me. Right now, don’t say a word if you want to win.”

Yi You bit his lip, the look in his eyes indicated that he was struggling. A few seconds later, under my gaze, he lowered his eyes and finally nodded.

“……I understand.”

“Are you done yet?” Tan Yunmei’s voice came from behind, filled with curiosity.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and forcibly suppressed the surging emotions. When I turned around again, my face was adorned with my usual flawless smile: “Coming.”

There was one hour left before the match officially began.

As the three of us discussed the matter, I kept glancing at the clock on the wall. The hands moved slowly forward, indicating that time was running out for Zong Yanlei, or rather, for us.

Thirty minutes;

Ten minutes;

Five minutes;

No one spoke anymore; everyone just stared at the clock, and the air in the lounge seemed frozen.

With only two minutes left, and as I began to consider the possibility of finishing the race alone, a portal silently appeared in the center of the lounge.

The next second, a tall figure, steaming with moisture, stepped in.

Zong Yanlei’s clothes were soaked and he hadn’t changed them. His hair was still dripping wet and he hadn’t had time to style it. He looked like he had just walked out of a long downpour.

“That was close,” he said, casually brushing a handful of hair with his hand, water droplets slipping through his fingers. “I made it just in time.”

Despite saying that, there was no trace of urgency or anxiety on his face.