Welcome to Rewind World Game-Chapter 1568: Final - : "OE: Death by Ocean (Part 2)
Arriving at the "New World Hub Tower" where Su Mianbao resides, the scene before my eyes was breathtaking.
A towering "tower" pierced the sky, with a multifaceted blue fantastical texture, like a blue crystal straight sword. Upon closer inspection, every layer was inlaid with colorless tempered glass, emitting the unending light from inside the room day and night.
The World Hub with its full two hundred and fifty-six stories stood on a giant artificial floating island over the Pacific Ocean, reflecting the post-game era’s de-nationalization, new order, and global unification concepts, avoiding the reinforcement of old hegemony.
——This symbolizes a truly new starting point beyond national borders, belonging to all humanity.
Surrounding this long sword, there stood twelve surrounding towers, bearing guard and regulation functions.
Su Ming’an entered this blue sword filled with a sense of advanced technology, with people in white passing by him.
The vast first-floor lobby presented a "Hundred Flags Wall," standing with colorful small flags of various countries, and the central flag representing the "World Hub."
In the center of the flag was a white, half-open flower, like a white camellia.
This was Su Ming’an’s Perfect Pass pattern mark on his hand, used as the emblem of the highest power institution. The flag fluttered in the cold air, and on the wall was engraved with the words "This wall is dedicated to the heroes, sages, and ordinary people of all countries."
Su Ming’an gazed at the emblem and let out a silent laugh.
On the wall behind, there were portraits of leaders of various major powers and top-tier players. Su Ming’an first saw his own big headshot. A young man with black hair gazing quietly at the camera, his black pupils as tranquil as a lake, and his young face particularly vivid among a group of middle-aged leaders.
He didn’t know when this photo was taken; it should be a screenshot from a live broadcast recording, but the angle was perfect, like his own ID photo, with the background edited out, leaving only a dignified deep blue.
... Such a proper photo, just change it to black and white filter... He suddenly slapped his forehead; after hearing his companions talk about it so much, he could joke about Hell too, which was really inauspicious.
The photo wall was circular, possibly because arranging from left to right was too sensitive and difficult, so the photos were arranged in circles instead.
"This is politics..." Su Ming’an murmured this somewhat unfamiliar term, shaking his head slowly: "Anything elevated to this height becomes very complicated..."
Moving further inside, one could glimpse the vast interior of this tower——the central ring space of the tower, from the first floor one could see the hundredth, looking up was an endless deep blue, like the deep universe. The two hundred and fifty-six-layer structure was as precisely woven as a beehive, with each layer’s edge flowing with icy blue.
As many as fifty fully transparent elevators ran along horizontal and vertical tracks in the massive circular cavity as if pulled by silk thread, like white stars adorning the circular ring, at times glimpsing figures in pure white uniforms inside the elevator cab, focused or fatigued. Whether people, events, things, or even elevators, everything was in perfect order.
——Awe-inspiring.
This was Su Ming’an’s first thought.
Though this tower had been established long ago, each time he came to find Su Mianbao, he was directly teleported to her office, never strolling through such scenery, experiencing how beautiful and magnificent the pinnacle of human wisdom truly was.
The fast pace of the World Game often left him unable to slow down, but only at this moment could he refrain from thinking about anything, simply taking a walk, like the after-school strolls with Yuanyuan in sunsets.
Yet, the sunset had faded, leaving only the cold blue light.
He walked quietly amidst such scenery, with a sudden sense of loss and illusion.
What he didn’t see—were some employees passing by him, unconsciously bowing in his direction. Their right hands on their chests, their demeanor quite solemn.
"Ming’an System’s" surveillance was everywhere.
And people had grown accustomed to it.
Su Ming’an looked up at the towering dome. For a moment, he had an illusion of the central tower of the ruined World of Lin Guang back then, as if someone would walk towards him in the next moment.
"...Father God?"
A hoarse voice sounded.
Su Ming’an snapped back to reality, a soft piece of bread flying beside him, was a flight communicator.
"The ’Ming’an System’ detected your arrival, please follow me," came a slightly excited voice from the bread.
Su Ming’an was surprised for a moment... Although his invisibility was merely a normal concealing of aura, he didn’t expect the "Ming’an System" to detect it. It seems that the small world’s thousands of years of learning and computing from the ruined world’s knowledge have subtly surpassed it.
"Let’s go," he said.
...
"Tick-tock."
Xiao Xiao tapped the floating screen on his wrist, completing today’s clock-in.
He looked at the busy white-clad colleagues, feeling like a Husky mixed in with a pack of wolves.
He himself didn’t know why he got recruited into such a prestigious place; here, all were top leaders among humans, even a cleaner was someone he couldn’t dare to imagine. As a tavern singer, he casually submitted a job application and unexpectedly got accepted!
Getting into a county’s small tower was already the best luck for his ancestors, who would have thought he’d be recruited by the "World Hub Tower"? It’s like a county-level exam candidate just wanting to be a street clerk but ended up being recruited by the world’s highest united organization!
After five days on the job, he still couldn’t believe it. However, Wang Zhenzhen was very happy; they were worried about not being able to afford a wedding house upon return, but now there’s no need to fret; it’s indeed a golden, gilded rice bowl! He couldn’t wait to feast his guests, yet the confidentiality agreement fell upon him, and he could only keep silent.
Looking around, the core atrium of the spire, named "Spine Corridor" by colleagues, was a gigantic structural space.
The air was filled with high-frequency buzzing sounds from innumerable servers and life systems, interspersed with "tick-tock" sounds, such as identity verification, data stream integration, command confirmation... one after another, like dense raindrops.
The "bigwigs" moved briskly, their garments flapping in the wind. Their conversations floated into Xiao Xiao’s ears, causing his teeth to ache and head to spin:
"...The ’Civilization Correction’ model’s volatility exceeded the standard again, the entropy increase prediction curve requires a third correction..."
"Antarctic ’cold storage’ report, the 7th ancient biological gene sample showed activity fluctuations, requesting ’Life Sequence’ team’s analysis..."
"The ’Paradise Plan’ Area 12’s ecological dome’s photosynthetic efficiency fell short of expectations, energy allocation protocol needs minor adjustments, submit an application to ’BreadBot’..."
"Pacific circulation model data packet transmission interrupted, is the seventy-second tower’s cradle point having issues again? Go check..."
Each term made Xiao Xiao’s head numb. Civilization correction? Entropy increase? Cold storage? Paradise? Cradle? Bread? These terms combined don’t sound like managing the world, more like "shaping" or "defining" the world, feeling like an illiterate barging into the highest academy of science.
...Oh, except for bread, this term he could understand.
What Xiao Xiao did not know was that his guess was spot-on; the "World Hub’s" purpose was not just for menial tasks or managing the world, but further sculpting and creating the "small world." It was like gathering thousands of "Olivius" here, using machinery and the light brain as "pens" and "erasers" to bit by bit "draw" and "refine" this world.
In the past, it was generations sketching in succession.
Today, all top minds from various countries gathered together, contributing their wisdom.
Xiao Xiao shrunk his neck, trying to lower his presence; after all, he was a Husky just getting by, wasn’t that blissful? Since he just arrived for a few days, the light brain hadn’t assigned him any tasks, he’s constantly familiarizing himself with the light brain... uh, although he just learned the booting program.
Just in time, the mechanical men were busy, he was assigned a task to deliver a metal box.
He carried the metal box, carefully sticking to the cold blue barrier wall root to move. The box was printed with complex codes and warning signs; he dared not scrutinize a single word, only knowing it must be delivered to the "Material Reconstruction Laboratory."
"Clack—!"
Just then, a large blue barrier "door" beside him silently slid open, someone walked out, inside was an enormous circular space. Xiao Xiao instinctively glanced, in an instant pinned to the spot.
Inside, there were no walls, only floating geometric structures rotating and assembling in mid-air. Tens of thousands of data streams like tangible star river waterfalls reflected the figures of a dozen people in white, seated around a circular operation platform below.
"...Confirmed ’World Tree’ has connected." A metallic, emotionless male voice sounded, belonging to an elderly man with a face as solemn as a rock: "Enter the next round of ’mimicry’ cycle. This ’mimicry’ will focus on regulating ’social system’ and ’player system,’ with the emphasis on narrowing the gap and easing class conflict between players and non-players."
"’Mimicry’ means local information silence and resource freeze, risk factor B-level." A nearby woman, looking beautiful but with an aura as sharp as a scalpel, immediately responded: "I suggest first initiating the ’Paradise’ plan to complete the buffer."
"Seconded." Another weary man rubbed his brow, "But we need to coordinate the resource quotas from Eastern Europe, and the expansion demand of the Temple also has a high priority..."
Xiao Xiao felt like he was watching a meeting between deities, he didn’t dare breathe and just wanted to slip away quickly.
"Stop." A robust voice sounded behind him.
Xiao Xiao shivered and stiffly turned around. A tall woman with beige long hair, wearing the same white uniform with sleeves rolled up to her elbows, was looking at him. Her hair was disheveled, she was holding a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes sharp like a hawk, but there was a playful smile at the corner of her mouth.
"New here? Xiao... Xiao?" The woman glanced at Xiao Xiao’s identity card, "Why are you running around with the prototype of ’World Temperature’ base? You’ve got guts. Do you know if this thing drops on the floor, everyone on this level will be fined three months’ salary?"
Xiao Xiao’s face instantly turned pale, his hands instantly stiffer than iron, feeling like he was holding not parts, but a Black Hole that could explode anytime, he trembled and said: "So... Sorry! I... I’m holding it with both hands... "
He was tearless but couldn’t cry... Even being a ’Husky’ is tiring!
The beige-haired woman laughed, striding over, unceremoniously pressing a spot on the box, and the dangerous red indicator light on the box instantly turned green: "All right, the Shield is on, won’t break. But next time, recognize the road, don’t poke your head around the ’decision corridor’ entrance."
"Yes!" Xiao Xiao was as if granted amnesty, he finally recognized the woman: "You... You are Doctor Isabella?"
"I remember you, you appeared in Su Ming’an’s live stream, your name is Xiao Xiao right." Isabella took a sip of the liquid in her cup, her eyes swept to the giant circular decision room, her smile faded a bit, hummed like whispering, "...Hmph, these people are going to mess around again. Do they really think they’re remarkable just because they’ve won a few World awards? They’ve never experienced the World Game, yet want to use the old arrogant ways to suppress player faction researchers... Tsk... Humans haven’t changed in thousands of years..."
She shook her head, turned, and strolled off in another direction, seemingly humming a tuneless song, out of place in this efficient environment.
Xiao Xiao held the box, watching the woman’s departing back, cheeks flushed, heart pounding nervously.
...Player faction researchers? Old faction researchers?
Seems like humans have faction conflicts everywhere.
Xiao Xiao glanced reverently at the ’decision corridor.’ There, the most elite human brains discussed the world network, adjusted the ecological balance, made decisions to "depict" the World.
And here, it’s merely the one-hundred-thirty-sixth floor.
He looked up, gazing at the unfathomable sky above, vaguely seeing the outlines of floors above two hundred. The sky was like a cover, the Universe vast, as if millions of Stars were falling towards him.
...Above one hundred fifty floors, what would they discuss?
...Above two hundred floors, what kind of scene would it be?
The two hundred fifty-sixth floor, the highest floor, who would be there?
Xiao Xiao took a deep breath, feeling his whole body burning, breathing trembling, stimulated to the point of not stopping. At this moment, he realized deeply the gap between him and Su Ming’an, the latter could easily step into the highest floor, whereas he was someone who shouldn’t have been able to enter even small world towers.
However, they have faced each other many times in the World Game...
He felt like he had a long and elusive dream, witnessing people he could never contact, seeing things he would never see.
The World Game ended, a dream also ended. Many people changed Destiny, but most still returned to their places.
"Why was I even recruited here..." Xiao Xiao gazed at the dome, murmuring: "Can it really be because, as the recruitment letter said, my Inspiration is high, and I’m good at storytelling? Just for this reason?"
He paused for a moment, suddenly realizing he was late, quickly holding the metal box, muttering "Oh no, oh no! I’m going to be scolded," and rushed off into the distance.
...
Floor Two Hundred and Fifty.
In the core of the Permanent Order Pyramid, within the highest security "Obelisk Conference Hall," twenty-six figures sit on thirty floating chairs—they are the core decision-makers that support the operation of the World Hub, members of the "Bread Council."
The first chair is empty, symbolizing the current vacancy of the "World Master" position, yet people’s gazes always subtly sweep over that spot, laden with various emotions.
A holographic projection silently weaves and transforms in the center, showcasing the global chaos following the end of the World Game: resource conflicts triggering localized wars, the collapse of old faiths leading to the proliferation of cults, the destructive misuse of game skills, and vast areas descending into disorder due to infrastructure collapse...
Under ten thousand years of preparation on the "small world," most of the order remains stable, yet human chaos is unavoidable.
Imagine, six billion people wake up to find their homes gone, replaced by a new planet, and another billion appear with bizarre abilities, dismantling and reorganizing previous hierarchies—even with memories of the World Game injected and full preparation, chaos is inevitable.
Amid the data flood, the "Social Stability Index" is plummeting at an alarming rate.
The one presiding over the meeting is an elderly man with white hair, Morris, whose left eye glows with cold blue light. His voice, like sandpaper against rock, breaks the silence:
"Gentlemen, the situation is deteriorating faster than the Ming’an System’s pessimistic predictive model. Conventional administrative directives, resource regulation, and even peacekeeping forces have minimal effect in the face of spreading chaos and the vacuum of faith. The pressure on the global reconstruction coordination center, ’Cradle,’ has approached its limit. According to the latest deductions from the Ming’an System based on global information flow and emotional big data—"
Morris’s voice is emotionless, yet it strikes everyone like a heavy hammer: "Constructing deification for some of the top-ranking players, utilizing the strong emotional projection of ’Savior’ from humanity’s collective subconscious to absorb and transform faith energy, is currently the most efficient, cost-effective, and widely covering global order stabilization solution. Code-named: ’Hero Plan.’"
"Absurd!" a voice, filled with obvious anger and mockery, immediately retorts. It’s Dr. Victor, disheveled and bearded. He slams his cup on the table, spilling a few drops of liquid: "You lunatics! We just ended a ’World Game’ treating people as pawns, and now you want to play a ’God-making game’? Pushing living humans onto a pedestal to live off others’ faith? How is this different from the clay idols worshipped by those cultists? No, this is worse! You are creating a living ’deity’!"
"Dr. Victor, please control your emotions." A sharp, scalpel-like woman—Elise, the "Social Architect"—calmly speaks, her fingertips tapping the table as she says:
"Emotional accusations do not solve the issue. The ’Hero Plan’ is not traditional religious worship but is established based on Spiritual Energy Field Theory and large-scale social psychology."
"We are not asking the populace to engage in ignorant prayers, but to efficiently transform chaos, fear, and confusion into cohesive forces driven by order. This ’faith’ is more akin to an efficient adhesive and psychological buffering mechanism. It can reduce conflict intensity and buy us valuable time for rebuilding."
"This plan was also employed by the United Group during the World Game, most urgently after the sixth instance ended, with excellent results."
"Ha." Victor sneers: "And the cost? The cost is completely eradicating one’s humanity! Once a person is placed on a pedestal, their emotions, will, and even life form could be twisted by this power! What do you want to turn them into? An infallible, ever-radiant cold symbol? A ’world battery’ supplying faith energy?"
"The risk exists, but it is within a controllable range." Another man, more refined and thoughtful, speaks with a heavy deliberation: "Why not ask their own opinions since you are so furious? The cost is small, and the gain substantial, how can you be so sure the heroes wouldn’t agree?"
"Nonsense! Would you agree if it were you?" Victor angrily retorts.
"I would." The refined man calmly says: "Unfortunately, I can’t, I lack the prestige and influence. Otherwise, I would willingly throw myself into the flames for the survival of the masses. If you oppose, you can chop off my forefinger now, as long as you keep your approving stance."
Victor’s anger is momentarily halted, and he sits down grumbling.
A brief silence envelops the meeting room.
Meanwhile, outside the screen, Su Ming’an’s elevator stops on the two hundred and fifty-sixth floor.
An elderly man, sitting in a wheelchair, slowly turns to look at him.
Old pupils meet young ones for a moment, as if across a span of millennia.
"...Father God." The old man gently bends over, his voice tender, face smiling:
"Welcome... cough cough... cough cough cough!"
"...Welcome back."
...
