"Impossible! It's absolutely impossible!"
In the entertainment hall, a young man stood up from his sofa chair, his expression grim.
He yanked off his gaming helmet and slammed it onto the control console beside him.
There was a dull thud.
The people around him turned to look.
"What's wrong with you?"
The young man didn't respond, his eyes fixed on the 3D projection in the center of the hall.
On the projection, the light point representing Number 023 remained in place, while another red light point nearby was slowly fading out.
The red light point represented a VIP player who had entered the game.
"Number 023 actually managed to kill me once in the game," the young man said, clearly displeased.
A flurry of discussion immediately broke out around him.
"What? A VIP player was killed?"
"How is that possible? A VIP's equipment is far superior to a normal participant's, and they have all sorts of privileges."
"Maybe you're just incompetent. You can't even play right with cheats."
"Bullshit." The young man rolled his eyes in frustration and strode over to the 3D projection, pointing at Number 023's light point on the screen.
"There is definitely something wrong with this guy. Look closely at his fight just now."
Someone immediately pulled up the combat footage of Number 023.
On the holographic screen, the footage began to replay.
Number 023 was hiding behind a wall as the VIP player approached step by step, firing and pursuing, while Number 023 dodged desperately.
Then, all of a sudden, Number 023 threw a flashbang, lunged out, opened fire, smashed his face, and finally plunged a dagger into his neck.
It was a seamless combo that killed the VIP player.
"What's the problem? Isn't Number 023 just skilled?" someone whispered.
"You only spent a little money to get the lowest-tier VIP status; it's normal to get counter-killed by a participant."
The young man sneered. "Normal? Look again, more carefully!"
The footage replayed once more.
This time, someone slowed down the speed, conducting a frame-by-frame analysis.
"Look here," the young man pointed to a specific moment on the screen.
"My movements suddenly slowed by a beat. That wasn't a normal reaction delay. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have been slow there."
The footage continued.
"And here. When I fired, the muzzle clearly shifted. My aim was originally on Number 023's head, but the moment I pulled the trigger, it suddenly jerked away."
"And here, my movement path. I could have clearly rounded to Number 023's side, but I inexplicably took a longer detour."
"And here, and here, and here..."
Frame by frame, the anomalies were pointed out.
The deviations were extremely small, making them nearly impossible to detect at normal playback speed.
But when the images were enlarged frame by frame and compared repeatedly, the abnormalities became glaringly obvious.
The player had been too caught up in the moment to notice, but the spectators saw everything clearly. When the young man was in the game, he hadn't sensed anything. But once he was out and reviewing the combat footage, he could clearly feel that something was wrong.
Every time Number 023 escaped death, it wasn't due to luck or skill.
He was clearly using cheats!
No one present was a fool. Once they realized this, the hall fell silent for several seconds.
The guests looked at each other with complex expressions. Some frowned, some looked uneasy, and others stole glances at the Deep Blue Route representative.
The middle-aged man stood at the edge of the 3D projection with his back to the crowd, seemingly focused on the images on the screen. His posture was calm, revealing no emotion.
But everyone knew he must have heard.
A game hosted by the Deep Blue Route had suffered such a massive oversight. A participant using cheats had managed to sneak in and kill a VIP player right under their noses.
This was a serious failure of duty.
Furthermore, it proved that the game's firewall might have been compromised.
The young man walked up behind the Deep Blue Route representative and spoke in a very low voice:
"Mr. Representative, we will handle this. We'll send people into the game immediately to drag this Number 023 out..."
The middle-aged man simply waved his hand.
"No need."
"Continue to observe him."
The young man was stunned. "But..."
"I said, continue to observe," the middle-aged man repeated coldly.
"Yes." The young man lowered his head, not daring to say another word.
The middle-aged man pretended to watch the holographic projection intently, but in reality, he was secretly scanning his surroundings.
He noticed that the long-haired man holding a pet, who had been in the crowd just moments ago, had now vanished without a trace.
That faint, lingering sense of crisis remained, like a thorn in his back.
Rate on N.U.
