"How many days have you been here?"
"Today marks the ninth day. My companions and I have become separated."
"Nine days… indeed, the mission has been active for nine days. You're fortunate to have obtained a box; by the ninth day, the dinosaurs bearing boxes have surely all perished."
Eric's muscles tensed.
Kevin waved dismissively. "Don't worry, I'm not here to steal from you. I have my own box, safely hidden, so there's no rivalry."
Eric's expression remained unreadable.
Kevin continued, "This mission wasn't originally difficult. When I first entered, I recognized it immediately—it's a dinosaur sanctuary, and the path to clearance is quite straightforward. All these dinosaurs are artificially bred. When we arrive, the dinosaurs have gone berserk and are attacking the laboratory. Survive without being trampled or devoured, follow the creatures to the lab—therein lies the halo." He smiled subtly; despite his unkempt beard, Eric perceived a hint of charm.
"Unfortunately, I discovered later that the mission mutated."
"Mutation? Has it become paranormal?" Eric's mind leapt to the prior massacre train scenario.
Kevin shook his head. "Not at all. The main actors remain the dinosaurs; no metamorphosis into a supernatural mission is possible."
"So the problem lies with the NPCs?"
"At first, I thought so too. But then I realized—the mutation occurred among the players." Kevin's eyes grew complex. "At some mission reboot, a player chose to remain behind. She supplanted the NPC destined to leave this forsaken dinosaur sanctuary, becoming the new master of the laboratory. Surprised? I was taken aback myself. Yet, everyone makes their own choices. Absurd as it may be, it is not unprecedented. That female player likely works in a related field in reality; this forest is her true dinosaur paradise, where she commands the mission effortlessly."
Eric found Kevin's tale astonishing.
"So… she's the one hindering us from reaching the lab? She's preventing our escape, slaughtering all the dinosaurs for that purpose… but why?"
Kevin nodded approvingly. "I'm glad you're perceptive enough to grasp the crux so swiftly. Indeed, she thwarted me. I spoke with her—she confessed to loneliness, longing for human companionship. With the mission's reboot, she resumed her tactics to impede you. Listen—join forces with me. I've lingered here long enough. Regrettably, the mission remained dormant, the halo could not reappear. This time, I intend to leave with your group."
The once vibrant, sprawling forest had gradually quieted in recent days—no dinosaurs, no explosions. Yet soon, another bustle emerged: various beasts began frequenting the area. Ryan, weary, discarded a partially eaten wild fruit, leaning against a tree. Clasped to his body was a grimy box, secured by a vine he had fashioned himself.
Several kilometers away, the ponytailed player scowled at the darkening sky, kicking a pile of fallen leaves that rustled in echo of her vexation.
Over three hundred kilometers distant, the manor stood in serene stillness. Emily gazed from the top floor, the cold night wind prompting her to tighten her collar. The tickle upon her nose forced her into retreat; she descended by elevator to the underground laboratory.
Lights flicked on, bathing the chambers in a sterile, glaring white. She proceeded to the incubation room.
A radiant halo shimmered at the room's center as her gaze skimmed past it, settling upon vacant enclosures. Here once dwelled her meticulously nurtured dinosaur hatchlings. Through relentless effort over years, she had absorbed and completed the laboratory's residual data—just one step from producing fully mature, stable dinosaur clones. Yet, in the blink of an eye, the mission, dormant for three years, abruptly restarted.
Her cherished hatchlings vanished, instantaneously maturing per mission programming, appearing in the forest—then spiraling out of control. Though she had eventually neutralized the rogue genetic source, the game's overwhelming power rendered her impotent.
Not entirely defenseless, however. Initially powerless before the game's dominion, she could do nothing but watch helplessly as the dinosaurs overran the manor, forcing her into subterranean refuge. Subsequently, she temporarily halted cloning research, focusing instead on methods to control the clones.
A formidable challenge.
Ultimately, she implanted bombs within the hatchlings: should they lose control, the explosives would terminate them. Yet, this act unleashed a peculiar realization—the mission resisted her interference, seeking to consume her. Her aspirations in this realm, unattainable in reality, threatened extinction. Her sole hope lay in preserving her research and reviving her technology.
For self-preservation, she made concessions—the boxes were her compromise. Though the mission ceased to reject her once she released the boxes, she secretly rigged them: should players fail to seize the opportunity, the boxes concealing the incubation room's key would be destroyed by the bombs.
Chapter 30: The Enigmatic Manor
"She succeeded three years ago, preserving the estate that supplied her livelihood, while simultaneously obstructing other players. Yet those players refused her earnest entreaties to remain within this secure mission—to accompany her until she mastered dinosaur cloning fully and departed alongside her."
"The dinosaurs this time remain imperfect; I shall continue my experiments," Emily murmured softly, her gentle tone contrasting with eyes ablaze—flickering with madness, obsession, and intense fervor.
She turned and left, the door closing behind her. Locking it securely and stashing the key, she moved on. Meanwhile, the bald player had endured great hardship infiltrating the manor. Having barely found the underground entrance, he was immediately drugged. Spotting Emily, standing outside the glass door watching him, he seethed, cursing her: "Sick, perverse woman." He despised NPCs obstructing his mission above all else.
"The halo has vanished," Emily stated. "Consider staying here with me."
The bald player stared in disbelief. "You… you're a player?!"
Thirty kilometers from the manor, Kevin and Eric rested. Kevin led their journey, covering great distances with brief intervals to replenish their strength.
"About thirty kilometers remain. I'm familiar with the manor—I've scouted it countless times over the past three years. Penetrating the above-ground lab is straightforward; the challenge lies in the subterranean facility. I've entered the underground lab thirteen times—each attempt fraught with peril. The first, I was drugged and captured immediately. I escaped. The second, I lasted just three hours before capture. The subsequent ten ventures went more smoothly; I've now mapped the underground layout. Regrettably, the mission has not restarted; no halo has appeared, and I cannot pinpoint its location," Kevin explained between bites of wild fruit.
Eric nibbled her own, her brow furrowing at the sourness.
"Could you describe the underground lab's composition?"
Kevin elaborated.
Eric pondered. "Since the mission's stars are dinosaurs… I suspect the halo resides somewhere among the core laboratory, the incubation chamber, and the cultivation room."
"That aligns with my thoughts, though I've only accessed the incubation room," Kevin said, producing two keys. "Your box likely contains similar keys. I possess these two; having tested both, they open the incubation chamber. Check your box—see which room your keys unlock."
Eric's gaze settled on the keys in his hand.
"These two keys—did you acquire them upon entering the mission?"
Kevin smiled. "One was obtained following this mission's reboot. Don't cast me as a thief; it's not like I stole chances from your player group. When I took this key, there were no other players nearby. Had I not secured it, no one would have possessed it when the bomb detonated. Moreover, it matters not who holds the key—anyone able to unlock the halo's chamber can leave together."
"How do you open it?" Eric averted her gaze, struggling with the box's combination lock. She glanced back at Kevin, unembarrassed.
"I do not know the code, but I can dismantle the lock."
"Thank you," Eric handed him the box.
Ten minutes later, the lock yielded, revealing a single key.
"This key differs from mine—perhaps it belongs to the cultivation room." Kevin returned it; Eric accepted it carefully.
"When shall we enter?"
"Preferably tomorrow morning. She tends to stay up all night researching; mornings are when she rests."
"Agreed."
At dawn, Eric accompanied Kevin into the manor, trailing him by a cautious distance. She remained wary of unfamiliar territory and this sudden ally. Fortunately, all proceeded smoothly, and Eric mentally noted the manor's secrets.
"Are there surveillance cameras? Does she know we've entered?" she whispered.
"There are cameras, but even if she sees us, she won't intervene. She relishes visitors," Kevin said, sending a chill down Eric's spine.
"However, my path skirts the blind spots," he added. Eric glanced at him but remained silent.
"This is the underground lab's entrance—not the official one. The formal entry knocks one unconscious immediately. This one I excavated after prolonged effort," Kevin gestured for Eric to follow.
The entrance lay concealed in a corner of the manor's vegetable garden, overgrown with waist-high weeds. At watering time, a cumbersome robot carried a sprayer, moving stiffly among the crops.
"There are nine such planting robots here—utterly harmless. Their sole focus is cultivating vegetables and tending livestock. Follow me." Kevin slipped into the weeds, feeling for a latch. With effort, he lifted a steel panel, revealing a cramped entrance barely wide enough for a person.