Chapter 3

Volume 1 Chapter 3: Evernight City

When Tang Cuo’s vision returned, he was standing in an unfamiliar room.

The room wasn’t large—about ten square meters—furnished with a wooden plank bed, a simple bathroom separated by a fan-shaped glass door, and a very small round table with two chairs. Judging by the decor style, the bathroom was modern, with a wet-dry separation, yet the round table and wooden bed gave off a Republican-era feel. The floor was old and worn, like an abandoned attic in a small Western-style house.

A strange mix of styles.

Tang Cuo only paused to think briefly before quickly walking to the desk, because there was a stained-glass window there. He pushed it open and looked outside—an unfamiliar city leaped into view.

Seeing it with his own eyes was worth more than any amount of thinking, and only now did Tang Cuo truly feel the reality of having stepped into another world.

A massive black city stood towering under the night sky.

Black, because all the buildings and roads in this city were black, giving the whole place a solemn, dignified atmosphere. But that wasn’t entirely accurate either, because some rooftops were covered in colored glazed tiles, like gems scattered across the vast city.

And here, lights shone everywhere. Faint sounds of revelry drifted from every corner of the city. It was as if wherever a light was lit, there were silhouettes moving.

This was a living city.

Here there were Western spires and towers, and Chinese layered pavilions.

There were old-fashioned carriages passing through the black stone roads ahead, and futuristic floating tracks winding overhead. Amid the clanking and clattering, a steam train with a heavy-industrial aesthetic shot straight up into the clouds along the tracks, the lights in each carriage like a woven ribbon of stars, or a soaring black dragon.

It was night, with no stars or moon in the sky, yet Tang Cuo’s vision remained clear. Because not only were there streetlights along the roads, but the tips of distant towers were adorned with enormous glowing spheres.

They were like night-luminescent pearls, and more than one—by Tang Cuo’s estimate, they were evenly and regularly distributed throughout the city.

Tang Cuo’s room was on the third floor. The area he was in seemed to be a residential district, Western-style buildings, all only two or three stories tall. The black stone street below was long, with pedestrians passing by from time to time—men and women, old and young—all dressed in fairly modern clothing, though the styles varied quite a bit.

Tattered rag-strip outfits, wrinkled cloaks, camouflage windbreakers, and so on—everything you could imagine. This colorful fashion show was something Tang Cuo had only seen in the newbie zones of large online games.

Was this Evernight City?

And where were Chi Yan and the others?

After a moment, Tang Cuo turned his gaze back to the room and quickly located the coat rack by the door. Hanging there was a small golden bell—identical to the one he’d seen in the white fog space, apart from its size.

But Tang Cuo had no intention of paying it any attention. Instead, he grabbed the door handle directly. He pressed down—but couldn’t push it open.

“Ding—” The bell rang on its own.

“The following is your Evernight City Survival Guide: Players, please open the system panel and complete your basic setup according to your current character points. Time limit: ten minutes. If you have questions, press 1. If the system is malfunctioning, press 4. Survival is hard—please cherish your life.”

What the hell was this?

Tang Cuo narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t seen any system panel from start to finish. Why was this damn game so annoying—you couldn’t even die properly, it was more troublesome than being alive.

As he thought this, Tang Cuo even considered going to the bed to sleep first.

Impatiently, he searched the room again, even rolling up his sleeves to look for any button he could press on his arm, but found nothing.

Maybe this crappy system was voice-activated.

“Open.”

No response.

“Open.”

So it wasn’t English either.

“Go die.”

“Please use civilized language and together create a beautiful Evernight City.”

Tang Cuo couldn’t even be bothered to complain. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, a holographic display had appeared before him. And no matter where Tang Cuo looked, the panel displayed directly in front of him—it seemed to follow his line of sight.

As for the open-close button? Maybe it was closing his eyes for more than three seconds.

The system panel was much like what Tang Cuo had seen in online games, divided into three sections: [Character], [Skills], [Missions], which could be switched between. At the very bottom was an independent equipment bar with ten slots, all empty. Tang Cuo originally intended to reach out and tap it, but found that the moment he had the thought, the [Character] interface opened on its own.

[Character]
ID K27216: Tang Cuo
Initial character points: -8
Combat: 0
Intelligence: 0
Charm: 0
Rating: A
HP: —
*Allocate points as you see fit. No regrets. Survival is hard—cherish your life.

Tang Cuo: “…”

Allocate what points? Going further negative?

Tang Cuo opened the Skills and Missions panels and found them both blank. Great. He switched back to the Character interface and stared at the three simple, easy-to-understand allocation options, falling into a rare moment of deep thought.

Intelligence -8 might make him mentally deficient. Charm -8 might make him ugly. So after three seconds of consideration, Tang Cuo chose Combat -8. As for splitting the points evenly—absolutely not. Tang Cuo rejected mediocrity.

“Ding—”

“Player basic setup detected as complete. Generating character avatar immediately!”

Then with a “click,” the lock opened, and with a “thud,” Tang Cuo collapsed. The pain of death returned to his body in an instant, seizing his internal organs, stripping away his strength and energy. A tidal wave of fatigue followed close behind.

Sweat quickly dampened the stray hairs at Tang Cuo’s temples. He caught his breath, not in a hurry to sit up, and summoned the panel again to take a look.

[Character]
ID K27216: Tang Cuo
Current character points: 0
Combat: -8
Intelligence: 0
Charm: 0
Rating: A-
HP: 15%
*Great beauty brings great calamity. Courting death is not advisable.

[Missions]
Survive.

The mission had updated, but it was absurdly simple. The only thing to be thankful for was that while the pain had returned, the wounds hadn’t come with it—he was just weak.

But there was nothing to eat in the room, no change of clothes. To survive meant Tang Cuo had to leave this room.

Oh wait—it wasn’t like Tang Cuo had brought nothing with him. He’d brought a survival assessment report.

After a while, the pain eased somewhat, and his stamina recovered a bit. Tang Cuo got up from the floor and picked up the “brick” again. As his only current possession, Tang Cuo decided to carry it with him—it could serve as a weapon if necessary. Besides, he’d checked—there wasn’t even a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.

Wait. Could this thing be put into the equipment bar?

At the thought, the assessment report disappeared from his hand. Opening the equipment bar again, the first empty slot now contained an icon of a book.

He then tried thinking about taking it out of the equipment bar, and in the blink of an eye, it was back. So—

It really did count as equipment?

Tang Cuo was lost in thought when suddenly there was a knock at the door—tap tap tap.

Who could it be?

He narrowed his eyes slightly, a cold gleam flashing through them. But soon, the coldness was pressed down by laziness, and he went to open the door as if nothing had happened.

“Hello.” The visitor had a plump face, around forty, with sparse hair but a friendly smile. He wore a blue work uniform washed somewhat pale, a vegetable basket hooked in the crook of his arm, every callus on his rough palms betraying an ordinary life.

“What do you want?” Tang Cuo’s attitude was cold.

“You’re new here, right? Let me introduce myself—my name is Lu Wenming, I live on this street. I came to ask if you need any help?” The middle-aged man smiled cheerfully and pulled a flyer from his vegetable basket, stuffing it into Tang Cuo’s hand. “Take a look—points can be exchanged for currency, one point for ten thousand yuan. Very cost-effective. Your room is completely empty right now, isn’t it? You can buy things here with yuan. With money, you can survive here.”

Tang Cuo held the thin piece of paper, his expression unreadable.

Lu Wenming was patient and continued, “I won’t lie to you—there’s no such thing as helping people for free here, but I do take a small service fee. My combat ability isn’t great, so it’s hard for me to survive doing other things. You young people are different—you’ll earn points back quickly. Besides, there’s a newbie protection mechanism—for the first month, you only lose five points. If you exchange money with me now, you’re just paying a slightly higher service fee, but I can give you some newbie guidance.”

“Guidance?”

“You just got here, so you don’t know, right? What exactly Evernight City is, how to use points, how to do missions, where to buy things—you’ll figure all that out eventually, but knowing earlier means being more prepared, isn’t that right? See, I’m not hiding anything. Let’s be straightforward—honest business.”

“Do you offer credit?”

“Huh?”

Lu Wenming froze. He’d been doing this business for a long time, but this was the first time a newbie had asked for credit. When he came back to his senses, he blinked and looked at Tang Cuo with a mix of laughter and tears. “How could I offer credit? There’s no such thing as credit in Evernight City. After all, who knows if the person in front of you will still be here tomorrow? How would I get the debt back? No credit—only loans, five times the amount or more.”

Tang Cuo: “Oh.”

Perhaps Tang Cuo’s reaction was simply too different from other newbies. Lu Wenming carefully studied his expression, the smile on his face fading somewhat. He weighed his words and asked, “Why don’t you think about it some more?”

Tang Cuo: “I’ve thought about it.”

“You’re going to buy?”

“No. I’m going to borrow.”

The next second, before Lu Wenming could react, Tang Cuo grabbed his hand, dragged him into the room, shut the door, pinned him against the door panel, and twisted his arms behind his back. The door closed quietly—Tang Cuo had deliberately softened the force at the moment it shut.

The vegetable basket fell to the floor, papers scattering everywhere. Lu Wenming opened his mouth to cry out, but his mouth was covered.

“If you cooperate obediently, you’ll live. If I’m guessing correctly, everyone’s already died once. Dying again—the outcome would probably be worse than death.”

“Mmph! Mmph!” Lu Wenming nodded frantically.

Only then did Tang Cuo release his mouth, but he only moved his hand down slightly. His cold fingertips rested on Lu Wenming’s neck, as if one squeeze could snap it.

Cold sweat streamed down Lu Wenming’s face. Which newbie didn’t have problems when they first arrived? Either they were completely clueless like idiots, or they were scared out of their wits by the shadow of death. Even the most strong-willed person needed time to adjust—a little coaxing and they’d take the bait. But the person behind him?

Looking back at their first meeting, Lu Wenming stamped his feet in fury inwardly. He should have left the moment he sensed Tang Cuo was different. What had made him hold onto hope?

“I—I really didn’t lie to you. The current exchange rate in Evernight City is one to twenty thousand. I take a service fee, and I have to hand over a portion, so what ends up in my hands might not even be one point! Newbies all end up exchanging eventually. One point for ten thousand isn’t much, but it’s enough to get through the first few days. I’m just trying to make a living too—please, have mercy, don’t hold it against me…”

“Yuan is useless. Points are the hard currency.”

Lu Wenming froze at that, because Tang Cuo had used a declarative sentence. For a moment he almost wondered if Tang Cuo was really a newbie—his methods were ruthless, and he’d spotted the problem so quickly. He pressed his lips tightly together and held out for several seconds before finally stammering out an answer: “It’s not that it’s completely useless… really! Daily necessities and most food are still bought with money. Points are precious, so money is still useful, it’s just—just…”

“Just not as useful.” Purchasing power was reduced, but still better than toilet paper.

“Right, right, exactly.” Lu Wenming agreed repeatedly, cooperating actively. “You’ll still need money anyway. How about I sell you one point at market price—twenty thousand? I won’t earn a single cent, just consider it making a friend. No no no—thirty thousand! How about thirty thousand?”

Tang Cuo finally released him and said, “Twenty thousand. Borrowed for three days.”

Lu Wenming regained his freedom and dramatically wiped his sweat. He wasn’t about to haggle with Tang Cuo now. With a placating smile, he picked up the vegetable basket and fished out money. As he did, he kept stealing glances at Tang Cuo. When he handed two stacks of cash to Tang Cuo, the flattery on his face was piled mountain-high.

“Would you like to count it?” he said.

Tang Cuo didn’t answer, which made Lu Wenming’s heart pound. The hand holding the money couldn’t help but shrink back slightly. But just then, Tang Cuo reached out and took it.

The hand Lu Wenming had pulled back was firmly grabbed, and his heart lurched. The face piled with flattery and fear immediately revealed a savage gleam. The change was instantaneous—Lu Wenming let go of the cash and lightning-fast pulled out a card, hurling it at Tang Cuo with an angry shout.

“Go!”

The card spun through the air, but in Tang Cuo’s eyes it moved like slow motion, letting him see the card’s face clearly.

Tarot card—The Magician.

An unknown combat mode meant infinite danger.

Tang Cuo retreated quickly. At the same time, he flicked his wrist and hurled both stacks of cash at the tarot card with force. The bills scattered with a rustle, but as they brushed past the tarot card, they suddenly caught fire.

If one bill was a ball of fire, two hundred bills were countless balls of fire. All the bills ignited spontaneously, and the next second they surged—the powerful heat wave nearly roasted Tang Cuo alive where he’d retreated, and he could even smell a hint of singed hair.

“Idiot!” Lu Wenming, face dark, flipped Tang Cuo off. Using a scatter-flowers move against a fireball spell—he’d never seen such an idiotic way to die.

This newbie was nothing special after all. He must have just been caught off guard earlier—that pretty-boy face was too deceptive. Clearly a thug who robbed people with fire, yet he looked like he’d given speeches under the national flag as a kid—damn, he was just that proper-looking.

But despite thinking this, Lu Wenming was much more cautious now. He raised his hand to recall the tarot card and turned to leave, not wanting to see the whole process of Tang Cuo burning. But the moment he grabbed the door handle, a heavy object flew through the air and struck the back of his head.

“Thud!” Lu Wenming’s head slammed into the door panel again, nearly splitting open, the pain sending him rolling on the floor.

The fireball spell dissipated the moment its user fell, as if everything before had been an illusion. Tang Cuo walked over as if nothing had happened, picked up the “brick” from the floor, and smiled for the first time.

He looked at Lu Wenming. “Idiot.”

Amid the pain, Lu Wenming was consumed with fury. He never would have expected Tang Cuo to come out of the fireball attack completely unharmed. Was this guy really a newbie?!

He looked up in horror, and saw that behind Tang Cuo, the bathroom’s glass door was wide open. There was only one explanation—when the fire engulfed him, Tang Cuo had narrowly ducked into the bathroom. And Lu Wenming, eager to leave, hadn’t waited for the fire to spread in—so he’d been KO’d on the spot.

Realizing this, Lu Wenming’s face turned ashen. He knew he had no chance of turning things around now. In terms of wit—even luck—he was no match for this young man.

Tang Cuo was not someone to be trifled with. Lu Wenming had no confidence whatsoever in his fate.

“I just want to know—how did you suspect me?”

“Occupational habit.”

Lu Wenming couldn’t possibly know that Tang Cuo was a detective. He observed everything, suspected everything.

In a city like this, where everything was unusual, ordinary people were not ordinary. Lu Wenming had seemingly honestly confessed to taking a cut, retreating to advance, trying to earn Tang Cuo’s trust step by step—but he didn’t know that Tang Cuo was always stingy with trust.

What Lu Wenming also didn’t know was that Tang Cuo’s batch of newbies, before entering Evernight City, had triggered the Lucky Wheel due to their poor results. Having been through one game, they were strictly speaking no longer pure newbies.

What he couldn’t possibly know even more was that Tang Cuo’s points were negative—this deal had been impossible from the start.

Tang Cuo had no interest in explaining so much. He pulled up the system panel and looked.

HP: 3%
*You are one step away from death.

Author’s Note:
The basic setting of Evernight City will be unfolded one by one going forward. Because this is a brand-new world involving many aspects, anything not covered yet is probably scheduled for later—piling it all together would be rather dry.
To sum it up in one phrase, this is roughly a “dark utopia.”