Chapter Seventeen: The Experiment

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August 16, 1993, 10:30 a.m.
Rendezvous Point, 40 kilometers west of Grizzly City, at the outskirts

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“What are we here for?”

The truck came to a halt at the outskirts of Grizzly City, right beside the opaque boundary visible only to those who had crossed over. The boundary resembled drifting smoke, constantly shifting and glowing with a pale yellow light. It didn't seem tall, but Yang Wentian had heard people say inside the space that if you took a hot air balloon higher, you'd see the same smoky haze at altitude; if you dug into the ground, even dozens of meters deep, the edge would still be shrouded in smoke.

If one of the traversers tried to cross it, they would be bounced back into the scene. If they tried too many times, they'd burst into a cloud of blood.

“To seek the truth.” Wang Luo answered Yang Wentian’s earlier question, then opened the truck door and walked to the rear.

Several gang members were already waiting. Wang Luo handed them a suitcase filled with money. One gang member checked it, then four test subjects were taken off the truck.

“Pleasure doing business.” The gang members were polite as they left.

“All we need to do are a few simple tests.” After setting up tables and chairs, with the three of them seated, Wang Luo faced the test subjects (two girls, a boy, and an adult woman), pointing at the boundary. “If you walk straight down this road for three miles, what’s there?”

“Spruce trees, lots of spruce trees, sir,” replied the little boy.

“Go there, pick a spruce leaf, and bring it back to me. How long will it take?”

“Twenty minutes, sir.”

Wang Luo produced a ten-dollar bill. “Go ahead. I’ll start timing at the count of three. If you do it, this is yours.”

“Three!”

The boy hesitated for a moment, then ran off at once.

“Now, from your perspective, what’s over there?” Wang Luo pointed at the boundary and asked the three females, pulling out another ten-dollar bill.

“It’s the road to Laver, sir,” the adult woman replied timidly.

“What’s on both sides of the road?”

“Spruce trees, dirt, stones, signposts... I couldn’t find anything else, sir.”

“Take this shovel and this bucket, go five hundred meters out, dig up two shovelfuls of dirt, put it in the bucket, and bring it back to me. Do it within twenty minutes, and the ten dollars is yours.”

“All right, sir.”

For the two remaining girls, Wang Luo assigned a task: one was to take the bus to Laver, the small town ten miles outside Grizzly City, buy a newspaper at the newsstand, greet the owner, inquire about recent events, and record everything the owner said during the purchase; the other girl was to go ten minutes later, buy the same newspaper, ask the same questions, and record the responses.

“What are you planning?” After seeing the four test subjects depart, Yang Wentian finally spoke. “What’s the point of all this?”

“According to my hypothesis,” Wang Luo replied as he jotted notes in his notebook, “I’m conducting corresponding experiments.”

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“Hypothesis one: Some powerful group on Earth has developed new technology. To test it, they used the popular online phenomenon of infinite novels to bring us here as experimental subjects.”

“Hypothesis two: A technologically advanced alien civilization, some members of which created a game like this for entertainment—something akin to an online or mobile game.”

“As administrators, they amuse themselves from on high, watching lower life forms from Earth struggle for survival. Occasionally, perhaps, they even join in for fun.”

“Hypothesis three: A few powerful deities, seeking amusement, constructed this world with immense magical power.”

“If it turns out to be one of your hypotheses, what do you plan to do?” Yang Wentian asked.

“It depends. Maybe nothing, maybe join them, maybe kill them. Anything’s possible.”

Wang Luo’s expression was as serious as ever, but Yang Wentian was amused by his deadpan nonsense and burst out laughing. “Hahaha...”

“Hypothesis four: Other possibilities.”

Zhou Yingxiong listened intently, saying nothing. Yang Wentian reined in his laughter and shook his head. “It’s too absurd. What use are these assumptions?”

“Like some books say: make bold assumptions, then verify them with caution. That’s what I’m doing—seeking verification.”

“What can you prove by sending them to sell newspapers or pick leaves?”

“Whether items from outside the scene can be brought into the scene.”

“What are you testing next?”

“Whether sound from outside the scene can be transmitted into the scene.” Wang Luo pointed to the tape recorder in the truck. “Why else bring all this stuff?”

“Can’t you come up with some positive assumptions?” Yang Wentian asked hesitantly. “For example, maybe some scientific organization created this space for the evolution of humanity, using alien technology...”

“It’s not impossible, but I think it’s unlikely.”

“Because you’re pessimistic.”

“Maybe... sometimes I think so too.”

They fell silent for a moment. Finally, Yang Wentian spoke again. “Even if you find the truth, what can you do then?”

“I don’t know. We’ll see. But if you don’t know the truth, even if opportunity arises, you won’t be able to seize it.”

“You make a good point,” Yang Wentian said after half a minute. “Let me tell you what I know.”

“For me, the previous scenario tasks were all brutal. My first scenario was a historical node: the American War of Independence—the Shot Heard Round the World at Lexington.”

“A node?”

“Historical scenarios are often called nodes. That time, the task was to kill ten British soldiers and hold the position until the time ran out.”

“Pure combat?”

Yang Wentian chuckled at this.

“Before I met you, it seemed like every scenario was about fighting. Sometimes you had to kill so many enemies, sometimes gather a certain number of items—which only dropped from defeated foes. Sometimes you had to protect someone for a certain period, sometimes defend a line, sometimes break through the enemy’s stronghold.”

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“And you survived, that’s impressive.”

“Just luck. In later scenarios, I nearly died many times. Barely struggling, destitute, hanging by a thread... When I was desperate, I started bringing in newcomers, and suddenly discovered new ways—so it could be done like this, after all.”

Wang Luo could sense the warmth in Yang Wentian’s words and responded with a smile. “I’m not much good at fighting, so I have to resort to methods like these. But about your first scenario—why would the space have a Chinese person participate in battles between Americans and British?”

“You go in and fight, what’s strange about that?”

“No one ever tried to kill both the British and the Americans?”

“...No one thought of that, I suppose. The space gave us a task: kill the enemy, so we killed; defend the position, so we defended. Back then, our minds were blank, we didn’t think about anything. People like you are rare.”

“I can believe that, heh...”

As they spoke, the adult woman returned with the bucket. “Sir, it’s half full.”

“All right, take a rest.” Wang Luo took the bucket and handed her the ten dollars. “How’s your singing?”

“Singing... I’m not very good at singing, sir.”

“Do you know how to use a tape recorder?”

“Yes, I do, sir.”

“Then in a moment, take the tape recorder out there,” Wang Luo pointed beyond the boundary, “I’ll sing, and you record it. When I’m done, I’ll listen to the playback. If it’s good, I’ll pay you twenty dollars.”

“O-okay, sir.”

The woman took the tape recorder and walked out beyond the boundary. Once she was out of sight, Wang Luo started to sing.

“Arise, ye prisoners of starvation and want...” (The Internationale—no need to write out the full lyrics.)

Half a minute after he finished singing, the female subject returned with the recorder. “You sing well, sir.”

She immediately played back the recording. For some reason, instead of Wang Luo’s song, only a harsh hissing sound came from the recorder.

“Seems it didn’t record properly,” Wang Luo muttered. “Is there some barrier to sound transmission?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the woman said anxiously. “I pressed the record button, I did—how could this happen?”

“No matter, let’s try a few more times.” Wang Luo handed her the recorder again, then turned to Zhou Yingxiong, who had come along in the truck but hadn’t said a word until now. “Your turn to sing.”

“All right.” Zhou Yingxiong stood and walked to the edge of the boundary.

“Whatever happens, test three times and note the results.”

“No problem.”

When he sang, his voice was a bit off-key.