“Hello everyone, welcome to the Game Storm show! I’m your host, Xiao Lu. Today we’re talking about the upcoming release from Eternal World Corporation—Eternity. As the world’s first fully immersive holographic online game…”
In a high-rise in the city center of S City, Zhang Cheng sat at his computer desk and opened a popular livestream on a video platform. On screen, the host was confidently introducing the game’s basic information to the audience.
Game Storm was a gaming show widely loved by players. Unlike many other programs that frequently took on paid promotions and pushed garbage games, this channel was known for its rigorous reviews, solid content, and refusal to do cheap sponsored deals. Their critiques of bad games were sharp and direct, often hitting game developers where it hurt. Conversely, for quality titles, they never held back on praise.
Just for that alone, Game Storm had drawn a huge following—while also earning the hatred of certain gaming companies.
Of course, another major reason the channel was so popular with gamers: the host, Xiao Lu, was young, beautiful, and soft-spoken. Just having her on screen was a treat for the eyes.
“It’s been promoted for over a decade! Who doesn’t know about it by now?”
“Xiao Lu’s thighs are the real highlight. Seven Star Entertainment…”
“Hurry up and get to the real stuff, this game’s older than I am!”
“Hey, you in front—if you’re too young to play this, just stick to your ancient retro games!”
The host continued going over the game’s basic info as a flood of live comments scrolled across the screen—most of them irrelevant, full of memes and daily internet nonsense. Zhang Cheng wasn’t interested in that. Sitting on the sofa, he closed his eyes and focused on listening to the host’s voice.
“…That’s all for the basic introduction to Eternity. I’m sure everyone’s been waiting a long time for this game, so now let’s talk about what people are most curious about!”
“Our team has gotten reliable insider info on the game’s release date! While I can’t reveal the exact day, Xiao Lu can give you a little hint—it’s expected to launch before the end of this year!”
“And… here’s a super-secret scoop—just between us, okay? Don’t go spreading it around, or Xiao Lu might lose her job… The ultimate big boss in the game is everyone’s favorite white-haired, red-eyed beauty! And she’s a non-human girl, too!”
Zhang Cheng opened his eyes and saw the beautiful host on screen playfully winking and striking a cute pose.
There was no way that was actually a “super-secret scoop.” Zhang Cheng sneered inwardly. Once this stream ended, social media would be flooded with ads and promos, and major news portals would probably post press releases too.
The Game Storm channel was, after all, a subsidiary of a media company controlled by Eternal World Corporation. All that talk about “not doing paid promotions” was only possible because the big bosses had money and power behind the scenes.
Zhang Cheng got up, turned off the screen, put on his coat, and headed out the door toward the underground parking lot.
Two years ago today, his close friend Lu Qiuchen was tragically caught in the infamous game pod incident. Despite the best efforts of a top medical team, he ended up in a vegetative state. Devastated, his parents took the gaming company to court.
This incident caused a huge public uproar at the time. The safety of the gaming capsule became the center of societal focus. After investigations by experts and the game company, along with continued endorsements from professionals in related research fields, the matter was ultimately classified as an accident. With a massive compensation paid to the victim’s family, internal company restructuring, and the dismissal of involved employees, the incident was hastily concluded.
The victim’s family was not satisfied with the outcome, but faced with immense pressure from the Eternal Group and seeing no hope after a year of continuous treatment for their son, they eventually chose to compromise.
During that year, no similar gaming capsule incidents were reported again. Apart from the victim’s close friends and relatives, the matter faded from public attention.
Zhang Cheng’s destination was a cemetery in City S, where the victim of the gaming capsule incident was buried.
After placing a bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of the grave and paying his respects, Zhang Cheng spoke softly toward the tombstone, “I’ve joined the game company now. I will uncover the truth behind this incident and bring justice to you and Uncle and Auntie.”
Lu Qiuchen’s parents had been devastated by the early loss of their son. Later, when they went up against a giant like the Eternal Group in court, they resigned from their jobs, sold off their shares, and withdrew from the company. The ordeal had left both of them visibly worn down, and Zhang Cheng, burdened with guilt, had not dared to face them again.
A few months ago, Zhang Cheng had learned that Lu’s mother was pregnant. That piece of good news somewhat eased the pain of losing their son, and the couple finally began to smile again. That helped relieve some of Zhang Cheng’s guilt.
But deep down, he still harbored a burning determination to uncover the true culprit behind the gaming capsule incident.
Zhang Cheng majored in computer science at university. Despite his excellent academic performance, he chose not to pursue a master’s or Ph.D. Instead, in his junior year, he began an internship at Eternal World Corporation.
Although he was still a student and couldn’t become a full-time employee, his outstanding performance earned the appreciation of his superiors. His treatment was already on par with regular staff, and he would be officially hired as soon as he graduated.
His decision was, of course, rooted in that incident from two years ago. Zhang Cheng had never believed it was an accident. He had even suspected his own father at one point, but after two years of observation, he had found nothing unusual. Now, having infiltrated the company, he could begin his investigation from the inside.
After visiting his friend’s grave, Zhang Cheng turned to leave, only to see Lu’s parents not far behind, holding a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums, their expressions complicated.
Zhang Cheng froze. After bowing to them, he quickly walked in the opposite direction.
“Xiao Cheng!” came Lu’s father’s voice from behind. Zhang Cheng’s body trembled, and he stopped in his tracks. It had been two years since he had heard that voice call him like that.
Lu’s father continued, “His mother and I have thought things through. That accident wasn’t your fault. We know you’ve been doing everything you can for Qiuchen. He always considered you his best friend…”
Zhang Cheng turned around, bowed to them again, glanced at Lu’s father—now graying—and Lu’s mother, whose belly had already started to show, then left without saying a word.
Lu’s father watched his tall, thin figure walk away, let out a sigh, and silently approached the grave. He placed the yellow chrysanthemums next to the white ones. Staring at the photo of his son’s bright smile, a wave of sorrow and bitterness surged within him.
*****
After ten years of development and three years of testing, the announcement that Eternal would officially launch within the year sent shockwaves through the entire gaming community. Many had waited since elementary school and were now adults in the workforce by the time this news finally arrived.
In the following months, the game company steadily released a wealth of materials to build anticipation—ranging from the complete world lore, class branches, race settings, to terrain and map visuals.
Alongside these promotions, pre-order discounts for both game pods and VR headsets were launched. While the pods remained expensive, the VR headsets were offered at a price point affordable enough for young adults with jobs.
As the launch approached, the game company invited select journalists and media personnel to participate in the fifth closed beta.
At the same time, the company relaxed the NDA terms previously imposed during earlier betas. As a result, several lucky players who had participated in the third and fourth closed tests began posting detailed impressions of their in-game experiences. These reports gained considerable attention and further fueled interest in Eternal among those who had been eagerly awaiting its release.
On the forums, one post titled “Eternal — So Real It’s Terrifying!” sparked widespread discussion.
The author of the post was a fortunate soul who had managed to get into both the third and fourth betas. In the article, they described the events that occurred during their 14 days inside the game world.
They wrote:
“During the third closed beta, I didn’t rest for the full seven days. Aside from the required logouts, I spent nearly every waking moment immersed in Eternal.
In the game, I chose to play as a human. I spawned in a powerful kingdom and was assigned by the system to a major city.
The world in this game is completely different from any game I’ve ever played. The NPCs don’t have identical faces, clothes, or personalities. Every single one of them is a unique individual. I even suspect they have minds of their own.
When I greeted strangers on the street, every NPC reacted differently. I observed the tables and chairs in a tavern—while their overall styles were similar, the details in patterns, the degree of wear, even the stains on them, were all distinct.
Over those seven days, I watched the sun and the red moon, studied the trees and insects, observed merchants and soldiers. Everything was so perfect, so real, that I was completely enchanted.
If not for the ability to summon the system at will, if not for instantly learning magic, if not for the artificial limits imposed on me—I might have truly believed I was in a real world!
When the third beta ended, I felt a sense of loss. I was unsettled and aimless, as though I’d lost my purpose in life. For a long time, I couldn’t snap out of it. It was as if I were possessed—I just wanted to go back. So when I learned I’d been selected for the fourth beta again, I was overjoyed. Ecstatic. Completely beside myself.
Back to the point—when I joined the fourth closed beta, I once again chose to play a human. But this time, I came prepared. I studied everything thoroughly. I didn’t want to lose myself again—I was determined to find flaws in this game!
But despite all my attempts, I failed once more. This world is just too perfect! Even the behavior patterns of NPCs are different. I spent an entire day tracking a single one—they had their own routine, waking up in the morning, going to bed at night, just like a real person.
And their actions change based on the situation. If you say something inappropriate or make an odd face during a conversation, they might get angry or excited. Their reactions are so vivid, so authentic—it’s impossible to keep calling them NPCs!
I think I’ve officially become a die-hard Eternal fan!”
Dozens of articles like this one surfaced, each evaluating different aspects of the game.
Following the conclusion of the fifth closed beta, the invited gaming journalists published their own reviews. Nearly all of them lavished praise on Eternal World Corporation. Many gaming outlets gave Eternal perfect scores. The only criticism, if any, was that the game might be too real and had a somewhat steep learning curve for beginners.
Most media outlets echoed the game’s official tagline in their summary:
“Your Second Life.”
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