episode_0064

After carefully examining the results of this simulation, Xu Nian’s pupils constricted sharply.

She couldn’t believe it. She scrutinized the outcome three times over, paying especially close attention to the latter half of the text.

The simulation results were laid bare before Xu Nian, incessantly reminding and informing her that in the simulated future, her girlfriend Su Qingya would suffer a devastating defeat in this Emotional Beast incident—so terrible that it would leave no hope for the rest of her life.

She would endure a dual blow, both physically and emotionally.

Crushed beyond recovery, she would ultimately be driven to commit an utterly distorted act.

But wasn’t Su Qingya the protagonist?

How could the protagonist possibly falter in such a scenario?

Logically, this should have been nothing more than a simple side quest for Su Qingya, the heroine—another routine monster-slaying task, right?

This was an experience every protagonist had to go through, a necessary step in the narrative.

Su Qingya possessed unparalleled talent, and she was even a main combat-path practitioner. How could she possibly suffer such trauma in what was practically a novice-level zone?

Yet… the simulation results were blatantly displayed before Xu Nian’s eyes. The written words were so glaring that they seemed to pierce through her retinas, stabbing deep into her brain. No matter how much she refused to believe it, the truth would inevitably drag her out of her denial.

Previous simulations had already proven the authenticity of this simulator’s predictive power—and now, this too would become undeniable reality.

Could it be that Su Qingya was never the so-called protagonist in the first place?

Yes, what exactly had given Xu Nian the illusion that Su Qingya was the heroine?

Was it the idea that she had transmigrated into a novel?

But… had she really transmigrated?

This place… no matter how she looked at it, was simply another real world.

There were no so-called protagonists, no chosen ones by fate—anyone could suffer unexpected misfortune.

That was only fair.

“No—Qingya’s in danger. I have to save her.”

Xu Nian murmured to herself, her entire being frantic.

But she was only a one-star Joy Emotion-Wielder—a support-path practitioner, at that. She didn’t even have any simulation attempts left, no chances to test alternatives.

What difference was there between charging in now and marching to her death?

Yet Qingya was in peril. If she intervened, she might at least bring a sliver of hope. Besides, there were still two three-star Emotion-Wielders stationed outside. If they all acted together, they could definitely alter the situation.

Even if they failed, the worst-case scenario would be the same outcome as in the simulation.

She had no way out now. There was no need to hesitate any longer.

Xu Nian first selected the first reward, channeling all the abilities from the simulated illusion into her Emotion-Artifact, [Elegance], before rushing over to the other two.

“Sisters, Captain and the others are in danger—we need to go in and support them now.”

“Huh? How do you know? The comms haven’t received any messages.”

Gu Tong blinked. She could clearly see the desperation in Xu Nian’s eyes—it didn’t seem like a lie.

But… everyone had their own responsibilities. Without orders, they weren’t allowed to leave their posts.

What if some unforeseen situation arose?

“But Qingya just contacted me—she said she’s in danger, that it’s urgent.”

In her panic, Xu Nian’s Joy value plummeted uncontrollably.

How could she possibly stay cheerful after seeing such simulation results?

This was the greatest weakness of an Emotion-Wielder—once their emotional levels dropped too low, their ability usage would decline to an extremely feeble state.

An Emotion-Wielder’s strength was always inextricably tied to their emotions.

Right now, Xu Nian couldn’t even muster the power to make her words persuasive.

“Tongtong, you should go with her. Xu Nian really does seem desperate. I can hold the fort here alone.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine by yourself?”

“Don’t worry. I am still a three-star Sorrow Emotion-Wielder, after all.”

Hearing this, Gu Tong made up her mind.

“Alright, Xu Nian—I’ll go with you.”

Xu Nian hadn’t expected her rushed words to convince both of them to abandon their posts, but securing one ally was already more than enough.

“Thank you. Here—take this.”

It was the Lamp of Sealed Death Souls.

“You… probably need this more than I do.”

Jiang Xue hesitated, not taking it.

“I think you might benefit from it more.”

Xu Nian didn’t elaborate further, simply shoving the case into Jiang Xue’s hands.

She had already used [Elegance] to replicate a weakened version of the Lamp’s power. And if things truly went south… well, she had also forged a deep bond with the Lamp itself. With just a thought, she could summon it back to her hand. So there was no need to worry.

Without another word, Xu Nian hurried into the hospital with Gu Tong, practically barging through without pause.

After a moment of hesitation, Gu Tong suddenly grabbed Xu Nian’s hand.

“Hm?”

“Xu Nian, I think you need to shift your mood.”

“I—”

“I know there might be something terrible weighing on you. I won’t pry, and I’m not interested in the details. But… as Emotion-Wielders, no matter what happens, we must stabilize our corresponding emotions. That’s the most basic requirement of being one of us.”

Gu Tong’s expression was serious—for once, she truly looked like a senior.

“Think about it—in your current state, even if Su Qingya is in danger, what can you actually do? Aside from becoming another liability?”

Xu Nian fell silent. She had to admit—Gu Tong was right.

She shouldn’t be rushing in recklessly.

Panic wouldn’t solve anything.

Seeing Xu Nian deep in thought, Gu Tong smiled.

“That’s it. That’s the way. Smile, Xu Nian—no matter what, always keep smiling. Even if your dearest friends perish, never let your smile fade.”

“That is the conviction we Joy Emotion-Wielders must hold onto.”

“…Yes. I understand. Thank you, Sister Gu Tong.”

Xu Nian knew—this was Gu Tong’s ability at work.

She had believed the words almost instinctively, letting them take root in her heart. Her frantic anxiety slowly ebbed away.

Suddenly, Gu Tong flicked her wrist, and a tang dao materialized in her palm.

That must be her Emotion-Artifact.

It seemed she had ultimately chosen to compensate for her offensive shortcomings with a weapon.

“Alright, Xu Nian. Now… it’s time for you to see that I’m not just talk. Aside from our two captains, I’m the best fighter here.”

“Then I’ll be looking forward to it!”

Her mood shifted, and a hint of a smile returned to Xu Nian’s face. Her mindset toward this mission transformed—from a desperate race to save Qingya in reality, to tackling a critical main quest in a game.

That transition—from urgency to exhilaration—was vital for Xu Nian.

“Captain, we’re coming in now. Hey—can you hear us? Respond if you get this.”

Gu Tong called through the comms, but nothing but static crackled back at first.

Finally, a voice answered.

“Received. Why are you coming in?”

“Is Su Qingya with you?”

“She is. What’s the matter?”

“Xu Nian said you were in danger—that Su Qingya sent a message.”

“Danger? What are you talking about? It’s just a three-star Emotional Beast—how could we possibly be in trouble?”