Chapter Seventy-Two: Empty Words

The reason Chen Hao asked such a question was entirely because his previous two entries into the game had occurred through some strange and unconventional means, and both times were before the game had officially launched.

Normally, to enter virtual reality, one must use a physical connection device, but Chen Hao didn't do this at all. He simply fell asleep and entered the game through a dream. In fact, even now, Chen Hao still wasn't sure if those first two experiences were actually inside the game, or just incredibly realistic dreams about the game.

Moreover, the game clearly hadn't launched yet, so it shouldn’t have been possible to log in through any external network connection. Even if Chen Hao had used a physical connection, it still wouldn’t have allowed him into the game at that stage. This was the second reason he suspected he might just be dreaming.

But the final and most important reason was that Chen Hao distinctly remembered what happened the first time he entered the game, when he met Vivian and was chased by those five programmers. He had clearly told those five people his name was Chen Hao, and had even revealed that he was an employee of Illusion Corp, including his department. He’d only done that to win their trust, hoping to lower their guard and hostility toward him. Unexpectedly, his tactic had no effect at all; they were still determined to capture him.

In the end, Chen Hao had no choice but to flee with Vivian, and was even forced to take out one of his pursuers. He had never mentioned this incident to anyone. If he truly had entered the game world, those programmers chasing him and Vivian would have surely reported it to the company and revealed his identity.

If the company had learned of his identity, someone should have approached him immediately. After all, someone entering an in-development game before its official launch is impossible unless there’s some serious bug. Standard procedure would have been for the company to send someone to consult with him and then promptly fix the bug. And if they found out he’d logged in wirelessly, they’d be even more shocked, perhaps even inviting him in for internal research.

But up to now, no one had come to find him—not even a phone call. This only made Chen Hao feel more puzzled and strengthened his suspicion that he had just been dreaming.

Chen Hao had almost forgotten about the game, distracted by the daily antics of Fan Yirou and Gu Mengyan, who kept his life in constant chaos, leaving him no time to worry about anything else. Yet today, he unexpectedly ran into Dong Xin, an employee of Illusion Corp and a high-level internal manager.

Naturally, Chen Hao wanted to sound her out and see if she knew anything about his entry into the game. Of course, he did this with little expectation, just trying his luck rather than truly believing she would know anything.

Moreover, Chen Hao’s feelings were conflicted. Whether he’d actually entered the game world or not, he made sure not to reveal his situation outright, instead asking probing questions in a roundabout way.

After all, if he really had logged into the unfinished game wirelessly, it was best to keep that secret. He even regretted telling those programmers his identity and name.

In addition, although Dong Xin’s explanation for coming to Costal for vacation sounded flawless, Chen Hao couldn’t shake the feeling that her motives weren’t so pure. He even suspected that she might know about his entry into the game.

Perhaps the company had deliberately arranged for Dong Xin to transfer to the technical department to observe him, but his sudden resignation had disrupted their plan. Forced by circumstances, Dong Xin had to leave the technical department as well, fabricating a convincing reason to follow him to Costal, and today she was deliberately cozying up to Gu Mengyan.

From their brief contact during his resignation, Chen Hao didn’t think Dong Xin was the forgiving type. Even though he had been the one to provoke her, Gu Mengyan was present at the time and hadn’t tried to mediate, instead watching the drama unfold with amusement. If their roles were reversed, Chen Hao knew he would never have responded with such grace, let alone taken the initiative to make peace.

So he was highly suspicious of Dong Xin’s intentions in getting close to him, and pretended to casually fish for information about the game. To lure her into making a mistake, Chen Hao intentionally brought up a sensitive topic: wireless login. He wanted to observe Dong Xin’s reaction and see if his suspicions were correct.

If Dong Xin’s response was normal, then either he really was overthinking things, or she was an excellent actress. If she showed even the slightest abnormality, his suspicions would be confirmed: he really had entered the game, and Illusion Corp knew about it.

Chen Hao waited, his attention fixed on her every move, ready to catch the slightest hint of irregularity.

Sure enough, everything unfolded as he had predicted. The moment Dong Xin heard his question, her body tensed up unnaturally. Although her reaction was subtle enough that neither Gu Mengyan nor Fan Yirou noticed, Chen Hao, trained in martial arts since childhood, could instantly sense her nervousness.

What’s more, the degree of tension in her body was far beyond what any ordinary woman would display. The way her muscles tightened in an instant surpassed even some strong men he’d encountered.

This woman… had she trained in martial arts too? How interesting—sending a woman skilled in combat to monitor him. Were they planning to subdue him by force if he acted up?

Heh, it seems the company rumors weren’t exaggerated after all. Illusion Corp was clearly more than just a large gaming company.

Now that his suspicions were confirmed, Chen Hao was left with a dilemma: how should he deal with Dong Xin?

Should he confront her directly? No, that would be foolish. Since she was pretending to know nothing, he would play along and pretend not to know she knew. When the time came that she stopped pretending, he would drop his act as well.

This was getting convoluted.

Alternatively, should he strike first before she could do anything? But what? He couldn’t just tie her up, could he? How would he explain that to the police—say he suspected she was trying to catch him, so he caught her first? People would think he’d lost his mind. Then his next home wouldn't be a luxury hotel, his own villa, or even a small cell with iron bars, but a psychiatric hospital where everyone wore white coats.

What a headache!

Fortunately, his dilemma didn’t last long. Dong Xin soon spoke up, apparently unaware that her cover had already been blown. Still playing the innocent, she said, “Wireless login? Heh, that’s an interesting suggestion! Mr. Chen, as expected of the former senior technician in our technical department—your ideas are quite innovative. When I return to the company, I’ll report your suggestion to the higher-ups and have the tech team research the possibility of wireless login. Who knows, you might even earn a bonus! Though, judging by your ability to stay in the penthouse suite, I imagine money isn’t a concern for you.”

“Hmph!” Chen Hao sneered inwardly. If she wanted to keep up the act, he’d play along and see who’d win the award for best actor—or actress.

“Miss Dong, you’re too kind. It was just a casual remark, nothing serious. But if my suggestion really does help the company, consider it a small way of making up for my sudden resignation. There’s no need for any reward.”

Gu Mengyan, seeing them chatting so amicably, thought their past conflict had been resolved and let out a sigh of relief.

But Fan Yirou, who had been watching carefully, didn’t see it that way. She didn’t know much about Dong Xin, but she understood Chen Hao very well. She knew all too well what his little mannerisms meant.

Throughout his conversation with Dong Xin, the left corner of Chen Hao’s mouth had been slightly upturned—a telltale sign that he was lying and trying to get information. How did she know? Because as children, Chen Hao always used this trick to coax secrets out of Gu Mengyan—usually about whether it was Gu Mengyan or Fan Yirou who was behind whatever prank had been played on him. The naive and straightforward Gu Mengyan always fell for it; to this day, she still had no idea.

Fan Yirou immediately understood Chen Hao’s intentions from his subtle expression. So, did this mean Dong Xin really was suspicious in his eyes?

Just as Fan Yirou decided to keep watching, the doorbell rang again…