Chapter 1: The Rise of "Professional Zombie"

July, Dream City.

Night and day here are worlds apart. By day, the sun blazes like an inferno; by night, the cold bites with the severity of an icy prison.

It has been half a year since the first professional gaming tournament took place after the college entrance exams. In the quiet passage of time, as morning slowly overtakes evening, the world awaits the coming dawn...

Within an inconspicuous two-story workshop, a young man lies back, hands pillowed behind his head, eyes closed in contentment, listening to the surge of commentary from the radio.

"Congratulations to the official game team! First place! Come on, let's give them the warmest applause..."

No lavish décor graces this place, nor are there bustling staff. The bed faces east, pressed against a barred window, its legs bearing the marks of iron nails. Opposite, a worn, peeling desk is buried beneath a thick layer of dust. To the side, a wardrobe emits the stench of mold and rot. The only thing clean and new is the radio, bought for a hundred yuan upon being duped by the old landlord. From it now blares an excited replay of the most popular gaming event.

As Hua Tian listens, his eyes snap open. He picks up the radio, holds it above his sturdy chest, and fiddles with the dial. "It’s not broken! When I left here half a year ago, wasn’t this the last thing I heard? It can’t have been replaying for months, can it?"

Why did I leave six months ago? The answer is simple: I had no money. The sorrow of life—seeing a game you long to play but being unable to afford it. It’s almost amusing in its cruelty.

The reason traces back to before I took the college entrance exam.

My name is Hua Tian. I was an average student, the kind expected to finish school and return home to work the land. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Still, I had two passions: bodybuilding and gaming. With technology so advanced, I dreamed of becoming either a fitness coach or a professional gamer. I’m stubborn by nature—I like to master games, to rise to the top, or not play at all.

Back then, I’d heard about "Professional Zombie," the hottest game around. I checked the price of the gaming watch needed to play—ten thousand yuan! With no way to afford it, I gave up. I played my usual games instead, but soon realized something terrifying: all my favorites, and even the smaller games, were dying. The only surviving game was just out of reach, separated from me by the price of that watch.

So, having no money, I resigned myself, let go of worldly desires, and focused on preparing for university. Eventually, I got into a decent one—unexpected, but it marked the end of an old dream.

I remember it clearly: after graduation, the first pro tournament concluded, and we had a class reunion. The richest classmate told me, "This game is amazing, Tian, it's a shame you can't play." Everyone was raving about their in-game waifus—girls and boys alike. My curiosity piqued, I learned that this game was much like "Holy Judgment World," which I’d loved—only more realistic, easier to play, and with greater freedom.

I asked which company developed it. "You’ll never guess," they said. Indeed, I guessed and guessed, but was always wrong. It turned out that, five months prior, a wealthy conglomerate hit by financial troubles made a desperate move. They’d never touched gaming before, but with this one bold attempt, they struck gold. The game was so realistic that, aside from the system prompts, players couldn’t distinguish it from reality. It was a sensation—industry leaders rushed to invest, and lesser games quickly went bankrupt. Only the Holy Judgment Group struggled on, but the tide had turned.

So, I resolved to buy the gaming watch, no matter what. "It’s only ten thousand," I thought. "I’ll get it from my parents!"

I returned home, excitement bubbling within me, only for my parents to flatly refuse. After days of arguments, I played my trump card: my university acceptance letter. My mother, delighted, rushed to take me to the nearest city to buy the watch. But when she saw the outrageous price, she dragged me away without hesitation.

Afterward, my parents set a condition: if I wanted the watch, I had to till all the family’s fields by hand. Driven by the thought of the game, I endured burning sun and exhaustion, my back red and inflamed, struggling through dehydration and wounds. But I persisted.

Yesterday, I returned to Dream City and my tiny rented room, researched everything anew, and saw that "Professional Zombie" would hold a tournament every six months to attract more players. At last, I was one of them—I had my hard-won gaming watch. Today, the results of the second tournament would be announced. It’s been almost a year since the game launched; I wonder how my friends and classmates have fared. Are they still nobodies, or have they become legends? But why is there no news about the game or its players? The officials are tight-lipped...

"After half a year of hard work, I can finally reap the rewards. To battle, to conquer the world—I am coming!" Hua Tian lay back lazily, staring at the non-existent ceiling. The newly installed white lamp above him suddenly broke free and crashed to the floor. "Damn it, now I have to spend more money."

After quickly cleaning up, he dressed, ate breakfast, reclined against the bed, and tapped "Enter Game" on his watch. He closed his eyes, and his consciousness began to fade.

"Beep, buzz—Player, binding identity... Success! Do you want to enter the login interface?"

Without hesitation, Hua Tian tapped the only available button: "Yes."

Instantly, he found himself in a place like a celestial palace. Blue stone beneath his feet formed a circular Taiji, surrounded by eight jade columns carved with dragons, stretching skyward. Overhead, a vast pavilion embraced all creation, while misty clouds swirled around, stirring the blood with awe. A lotus pond connected to the Taiji, its blossoms swaying in the breeze, fat golden carp darting beneath the surface.

"Welcome, player! Welcome to the login interface. I will guide you in choosing your class. Once you choose, you cannot change. Every time you log in, you will start here, and this place will be yours to manage..."

Between two pillars, a 1.7-meter-tall, egg-shaped transparent shield appeared, within which a translucent virtual woman slowly approached, her emotions unreadable.

She raised her hand, gesturing at a floating virtual screen, and the registration interface appeared, showing six classes: Warrior, Mage, Gunner, Assassin, Rampart, and Paladin.

Warrior: For close-combat enthusiasts, lovers of weapons and raw power, with no patience for flashy tricks—if you play, you play big.

Mage: For those who love area destruction, magic, and dazzling effects—a showstopper on any stage.

Assassin: For stealth killers, lovers of surprise attacks and instant kills—no frills, just death in the shadows.

Gunner: For ranged defenders, lovers of firearms, bullets flying, and endless creative play.

Rampart: For the talkative, unkillable tank, lovers of taking hits and taunting enemies—tough in both body and spirit.

Paladin: For the healer, lover of blessings, angels at your side, following the path of mercy and relief.

Hua Tian remembered the detailed short videos describing each class. He frowned, but his mind was made up: Rampart. Not for any complicated reason, but because he was born strong, tall, and muscular, with abs and a powerful chest honed from years of training.

When it came to naming his character, he boldly chose "Berserk Killer."

For the appearance, he hesitated, then picked a white outfit—his dream look. He carefully adjusted his features, donned white shield armor, set his height at 1.8 meters, and projected rugged, explosive masculinity. Then, he strode through the portal into the game world. Behind him, the translucent shield faded, revealing a pair of vast, colorful wings stretching over two meters.

He had no idea that his first step in the game would bring him face-to-face with the one who would change his fate.

He marveled at the atmosphere, the scenery, the tactile realism. "Amazing..." It all felt so real that Hua Tian began to doubt whether he was still on his own planet. Perhaps the price and the reviews weren’t so outrageous after all.

"Dear player, you must pass the novice test to proceed. Let me explain—hey! What are you doing? Let go..." A tiny sprite, about a meter long, with butterfly wings, a pink-green bodysuit, and an adorable, fuzzy form, flitted before Hua Tian, still lecturing him with cheerful guidance.

Hearing her melodious voice, Hua Tian seized the opportunity—before she finished, he grabbed her smooth little leg and pulled her from the air, marveling at her warmth and porcelain-like texture. Suddenly, she pinched his face hard. It felt incredibly real. He remembered—she was, "Wait, who are you?"

"Let me go! Don’t touch me with your grubby hands," the sprite shouted, her tiny head all that was visible as she protested her shameless master’s curiosity.

"Oh, sorry." Hua Tian released her, watching as she straightened her imaginary clothes. Work must go on, after all, even with such a master. "Listen! I am your companion sprite. As a new player, you must pass the novice test to play the game. I’ll guide you there."

"Alright then, take me," Hua Tian replied, not understanding why she didn’t resist. Hearing "companion," he realized she was his. The thought made him chuckle.

His expression and laughter sent a chill through the sprite leading the way. She deliberately withheld details about the test and refused to help during the trial, hoping to embarrass him.

Hua Tian reached the test site and stepped across the starting line.

Meanwhile, in the real world, a petite girl in a villa put on her oversized glasses. About 1.6 meters tall, with long, flawless legs, bright eyes, and black hair, she wore a patterned dress and a premium gaming watch distinctly different from Hua Tian’s. His cost ten thousand yuan—one login only, and if broken or replaced, the account was lost. The only way to transfer was to purchase a five-million-yuan watch, bind it with your fingerprint, and enjoy exclusive bonuses.

She logged in, chose Warrior, and glanced at her only friend, Yooner, who was offline. "Offline again," she muttered with disappointment, then stepped into the game.

She, too, was preparing for or repeating the novice test.

The test environment was neither terrible nor exceptional: a pitch-dark room filled with the scent of blood and strange noises, with blood dripping in the shadows—a scenario that had terrified many new players.

Suddenly, ten pairs of blood-red eyes appeared, the darkness split by their cold light. A platform rose in the center. The girl stood atop it, gazing at the pools of blood at the edges. The threat felt real.

Ten first-tier crawlers—zombies—emerged, their grotesque faces locking eyes with hers. Though she’d died several times in previous attempts and was no longer afraid, the horror still made her pause.

As they crawled toward her, she leapt from the platform, swiftly drawing her basic greatsword and charging the nearest zombie. Blood sprayed as she struck. More zombies swarmed—three behind her, gnashing at her feet—but she didn’t even look, jumping and spinning in midair, cleaving three beams of sword light into their skulls. The zombies fell, heads bursting.

She landed calmly, but another zombie lunged from behind. Hearing its growl, she rolled aside, only to find herself facing another. Without hesitation, she swung her sword and struck it down.

"Not bad—five down, five to go," she muttered, noting the remaining zombies’ growing fury. Fewer enemies meant more danger.

She checked her sword skill’s cooldown—just a few seconds left. But the zombies, untroubled by fairness, attacked together. The girl dashed beneath the platform, used her sword as a pole to vault up, and clung to the edge. The zombies, unable to reach her, howled in frustration.

Taunting them, she watched as the remaining four formed a zombie ladder by climbing on one another’s backs. One finally reached the platform, clawing its way up. As she turned, she was surprised by three waiting zombies, their jaws wide in mocking grins.

"You—cheating?!" Caught off guard, she managed three sword beams, but the last hit didn’t register before she died. Eight zombies slain—81 points.

Annoyed, she left the test and hurried to the results area. Seeing her score—81—she cheered. She glanced at the rankings: her only friend, Yooner, was first with 99 points.

She frowned at the 18-point gap. But then her score vanished, replaced by a golden "100." Had she been seeing things? She looked down—her own score was still 81. Someone else must have scored 100. She turned to see who it was.

A tall man in white armor, carrying a shield, appeared behind her, cautious and alert. He looked so serious, she stared in confusion and admiration.

Feeling her gaze, Hua Tian spun around to see a beautiful, petite girl in a black battle suit, watching him with awe. What? Admiration? In a zombie test?

He panicked. "What are you standing there for? Zombies! Don’t you know? Run!" He grabbed her hand, trying to pull her away, but she didn’t budge. He shook her anxiously.

She rolled her eyes. "Stop shaking me! It’s just an illusion for the test. Didn’t your sprite explain? Or are you too fixated on your sprite to listen? Maybe she was scared of you and refused to help."

His face reddened. Right, it’s just a game—so realistic, he’d forgotten. Looking at the girl he’d just grabbed, he realized she was the embodiment of his ideal goddess. He forgot all about his mischievous sprite and focused on more important things.

Inspired, he struck a classic bodybuilding pose, flexing his muscles as he would in real life.

Thinking of his muscles brought back memories of his hometown—Hua Gang Village, a place of natural beauty but isolated, with no outsiders or cell signal. The only way out was by winding mountain roads, forcing everyone to build strength through daily life. There, apart from height, you could hardly tell the kids apart from behind—everyone was sturdy.

Lost in nostalgia, he didn’t notice the amused look the girl gave him. Where were his muscles? He glanced down—his muscular physique didn’t respond.

"My muscles—they’re real, aren’t they?”

Embarrassed, Hua Tian cast a glance at the girl, feeling that he’d just lost his first in-game admirer through sheer stupidity. This was, after all, just a game—the muscles weren’t real. Still, he tried to recover.

"Hey, do you think I look good like this?" he asked, smoothing his hair in his most dashing manner.