Chapter 12: The Unlucky Wang Dakuai

The instant the excited brainwaves made contact with the chip, a spark crackled, startling Li Xin so much that he shuddered, fearing the chip might short-circuit and be destroyed on the spot.

Ding!

[Entering the state of phantasmal fusion—game and reality become one.]

Li Xin’s vision shifted accordingly: first, he entered the game’s attribute panel, then everything transformed into the ICU ward around him. At first glance, with game and reality merged, he still saw the same surroundings—nothing seemed to have changed. Yet the true transformation was something only Li Xin could perceive.

"Universe!" he called out softly, and a ball of golden light appeared in his hand, dazzling and captivating. But despite its brilliance, the glow did not spill outward, nor did it illuminate anything else; all the light mysteriously contracted in his palm.

This was the epic skill he had drawn earlier—the true form of the Universe, capable of countless attack transformations.

At this moment, even if crowds of people and numerous machines stood before him, none could discern the presence of this golden light; it belonged to him alone, visible and usable only by him. Truly, the universe’s only game—how wondrous and mysterious it was.

Li Xin sighed in amazement, and with a thought, the golden light in his hand snapped into the shape of a military knife. The blade, thin as a cicada’s wing, refracted a chilling gleam on both sides, razor-sharp.

He gripped the knife and lightly traced it across his bed. Instantly, the sheet and mattress were sliced open with a smooth, slender cut—no frayed threads, not a single loose end.

"What a formidable knife," Li Xin laughed, and willed another transformation.

With a snap, the knife became an AK-47, a powerful assault rifle. The barrel was cold, the stock solid, and the trigger forged in black iron—untouched, bearing no fingerprints, clearly appearing for the first time and yet to be fired.

Li Xin was tempted to raise the gun and fire at the wall, but this was a hospital. He thought better of it.

"Return to your true form," he said with a smile, shaking his head as he stowed away the golden light once more.

The ward remained as it was, but was it now a game or reality? Even Li Xin himself couldn’t say. He had never expected such a marvelous game to exist in this world. He knew with certainty—this was his absolute secret, never to be revealed. With this "King of Games," perhaps he could once again step onto the professional stage.

Should he take that step?

Li Xin hesitated. He was now the owner of a Chinese medicine shop, with many lovely and dear employees. The life of a professional may bring victory or defeat, with an uncertain future; he was reluctant to face the pain of being abandoned and rejected after failure once again.

Yet he loved and yearned for the days when he was at his prime. On the arena, he was a king, commanding with a flick of the finger, decisive and bold. Only then did he feel the true meaning and value of his existence.

Head aching, he decided not to think about it for now.

He pulled the covers over himself and went to sleep.

When he awoke, it was already the next morning, and Zhang He was nowhere to be seen. He sensed his brainwaves were still lively, but Li Xin had not entered the game. What surrounded him was merely the pale ward, the cold instruments—was he to play games with a bunch of machines?

The only thing to do now was to stay calm and recover quickly, so he could be discharged.

Today was National Day. Li Xin had originally planned a few days of leisure; eleven years of his youth had been devoted to the professional arena, and he had never once relaxed. Now, finally, time was on his side—but his body failed him.

Before long, a cheerful figure bounced into the outer room, waving at Li Xin.

It was Li Yao, the apprentice from the shop, only twenty years old, freshly graduated from nursing college. Li Xin had never understood why she gave up her job and insisted so earnestly on learning traditional medicine.

He smiled, returning her greeting. Seeing her boss in good spirits, Li Yao was reassured. Zhang He had gone home to rest; the three teachers were all middle-aged, with elderly parents and young children, so Li Yao volunteered to care for the patient on this first day of the holiday.

Separated by a thick protective glass, they began to chat. Each spoke their own words, unable to hear the other's replies—it looked absurd, but it was amusing.

In the afternoon, after a confirmed diagnosis, Li Xin was found to be in no serious danger and transferred to a regular ward. Li Yao immediately prepared a large basin of warm water and generously wiped down Li Xin’s body. Li Xin was embarrassed by the girl’s frankness—a grown man being cared for by a young woman, having his body wiped with a towel, was truly a bit humiliating.

Yet, truth be told, it felt quite pleasant and enjoyable.

"Yao Yao, you don’t need to do this. Zhang He will be back soon, and I can manage on my own," Li Xin protested.

"No, you’re the patient now; Zhang He took care of you all night and is exhausted. I can handle this," Li Yao replied resolutely, her hands never pausing.

At that moment, the middle-aged man in the adjacent bed chuckled, "Young lady, it’s tough looking after your boyfriend, isn’t it? There aren't many kind-hearted girls like you these days."

Li Yao blushed and quickly denied it, "Uncle, you’re mistaken—he’s not my boyfriend, he’s my boss."

"Boss?" The man raised his eyebrows, casting a somewhat unfriendly glance at Li Xin, as if mocking him. A grown man with arms and legs, letting his employee take care of him—what a scoundrel.

Li Xin was about to speak, but Li Yao jumped in, "Sir, you misunderstand—it’s not what you think. Brother Li treats us very well, and the pay is even better. His parents are gone, and he’s seriously ill and all alone. It’s only right for us, his employees, to look after him."

The middle-aged man suddenly understood and turned to admire Li Xin.

"Son, I misjudged you. My apologies."

"No problem, uncle."

"Come, let’s exchange WeChat contacts—you’re my kind of guy," the man said, pulling out his phone. He was burly, even looked intimidating, but he lived by his principles—a true tough man.

They added each other on WeChat and were acquainted. As evening approached, Li Yao went to the cafeteria for food, leaving Li Xin and the tough man to chat.

The man’s surname was Wang—Wang Da Kui, a coach at a taekwondo gym in Wujiang City. Taekwondo was popular; his income was decent, and he had only one son. With his financial situation, he was considered middle class in Wujiang—car and house included.

But fortune seldom favors the good. His son was unpromising, picking up a gambling addiction last year and squandering the family’s savings within months. His wife, too, was diagnosed with cancer and passed away during that time.

It was a pity for Wang Da Kui—skilled as he was, he could not reform his own son. He had tried everything, but Wang Dong was hopelessly addicted to gambling.

Seeing Wang Da Kui’s mood falter, Li Xin shifted the topic, "Uncle Wang, how did you get hurt?"

"Oh, that?" Wang Da Kui laughed heartily, his rough voice carrying the vigor of years of martial practice. "A few days ago, Mrs. Zhang’s beloved cat climbed a tree and wouldn’t come down. She’s an old lady—what could she do? So I climbed up to catch the cat, but slipped coming down and took a fall."

"Uncle Wang, you may look fierce, but your heart is truly kind. If not for getting to know you, one would never guess."

"Haha, you rascal—do you talk like that?"

Their moods improved, and the two bantered, finding joy in their conversation.

Just then, a commotion of shouting and cursing erupted in the corridor outside, mingled with cries of pain and desperate pleas for mercy.

Drawing closer, step by step...