Chapter 12

There were some posts with a very different vibe.
"I was honestly devastated when I got eliminated on Day 5. But when I saw the official stats, 160 million contestants, only 52 million made it through, I actually felt a little better. With over 67% getting knocked out, I guess it's not such a shame to lose."
"Only 1,206 players cleared the instance. I did the math, and that’s a pass rate of just 0.075%."
"I coasted along until Day 15, then got caught up in a gang war. Barely survived under a hail of bullets for ten minutes before I had to call it quits, and I only had 8% stamina left when I bailed! I’m dying to know, how on earth did the people who cleared it survive? Are they bulletproof or rocking some kind of body armor?"
"As someone who actually finished the extreme challenge, I have to say, the last few days of the instance were straight-up savage! It turned into a wallet-wars bloodbath, if you didn’t have a fat stash of supplies or made even one bad (hoarding) call, you weren’t making it out. I ran out of medicine and came down with an infection, cost me 40 stamina points on Day 20! Honestly, I’d have died too if I hadn't stockpiled enough meds early on."
"This game is pure suffering, an instant lesson in humility. Weird thing is, I kind of like it... must be a glitch in my brain."
"I used to think portable storage didn’t matter, not enough slots to be useful. Turns out, I was an idiot, if you stash stuff in your inventory, nobody can rob you. The NPCs don’t see what’s on you, just assume you’re broke and leave you alone."
"I wanted personal inventory so bad, but couldn’t even buy it! All because I hesitated a second choosing my class. By the time I got to the store, inventory storage was long sold out! Later, I hoarded a pile of supplies, but carrying it all around was such a pain, I had to ditch part of it in the end. Still aches just thinking about it."
Amid the uproar, a technical post suddenly appeared, claiming to summarize all the key points for clearing the first instance.
The poster said he’d listed out all the essential supplies to avoid negative debuffs. Past Day 15, the town’s just a warzone with gangs everywhere, plus plagues spreading. Actually, you can just head deep into the mountains and live wild for five or six days. If you’ve got enough water and food, it’s way safer up there.
Su Han gave it a quick scan, noticing tips like "Always eat a staple food," "Always use soap or body wash," and "Drink at least 500ml of water a day" right at the top of the list.
She couldn't help frowning. This is a survival game, after the first instance, people are still competing. Is this guy an idiot, sharing all the crucial info out in the open?
Within minutes, replies flooded in and the post blew up.
"How many days did you actually survive, OP? Cleared the instance or not?"
"Seriously curious, are these your real experiences, or are you just making stuff up in your dreams?"
"Damn, that explains the pile of debuffs I got, must’ve been something wrong with my stockpile. Begging for advice from the pros, if your info checks out I’m following your hoarding strategy from now on!"
After the 20th reply, the OP finally chimed in: "Everything I posted is true. Sure, I died on Day 8, but my friend’s a top player and cleared the stage. I grilled him for advice before I wrote this post, so you can trust the tips."
Su Han: "..."
Honestly? Only "fuck" comes to mind.
The peanut gallery exploded, "I was just about to say thanks, but now it turns out you’re just showing off someone else’s wisdom. Did you actually get your friend’s permission before posting their hard-earned tips?"
"Having a friend like you must be a curse for any bigshot. Survival infinite flow games are full of pitfalls, and it’s no small feat to work out these strategies. Out of friendship they told you, and you just turned around and spilled everything, painful to watch. Somebody bleeds for these nuggets, and you just blab them to the world… I’m speechless."
"What exactly are you trying to do, OP? Want us all to pat you on the back for being kind and helpful? Get a grip. This is someone else’s hard-won wisdom, has nothing to do with you. Why are you playing the hero?"
"No wonder you bit it on Day 8, you moron. Some players are still in the game, but here you are, outing crucial info and setting them up for trouble..."
In a flash the thread hit a hundred replies. Only then did OP realize their mistake and try frantically to delete the post, but it was far too late. In just a few hours, views had shot up to over a hundred thousand, and reposts were everywhere.
"Unbelievable." Su Han took a bite of lamb and kept scrolling.
The world’s first survival-type full-dive VR game still had plenty of hype. Not only was the player sign-up massive, there were also tons of people chatting on the forum right now. Every time Su Han refreshed, there were thirty new posts in less than a minute.
She skimmed quickly and saw almost no real insider info, most posts were just common sense, or vents. Anyone sharp enough to figure out secret tricks clearly knew to keep their cards hidden.
Just then, another technical post appeared out of nowhere, titled "Surviving the Extreme Challenge Isn’t Worth Bragging About."
The OP used tons of data analysis, arguing that spending all your hard-earned supplies just to gut it through the pandemic was a terrible deal. Especially since, in the end, the so-called "extra rewards" were just five bottles of mineral water and five pieces of black bread.
Then he started arguing, if you don’t count the extra rewards, which day is it most cost-effective to exit the instance?
He wrote and wrote, but someone replied, "Let me guess, OP didn’t actually clear it. That ‘extra reward’ you mentioned is nothing like what actually drops."
"Can people please stop handing out suicide guides? How about you actually finish the stage before you start lecturing everybody?"
"Not even a clear, still running your mouth? Who gave you that confidence?"
The OP exploded, insisting his data was legit and all from a friend.
But commenters lined up to say, "Cleared the stage here, and that ‘extra reward’ is straight-up nonsense. I’m not telling you what it really is, though."
“Bullshit +1.”
“OP got scammed.”
“Always stay on guard: beware of fire, theft, and... friends. Oh, I mean those ‘good friends’ of yours, OP. Smart move to fake your stats. The second they learned your info, they just had to run to the forums to brag. What, scared you wouldn’t get to screw over your buddy?”
After that, the OP never showed up again.
According to onlookers munching on melon seeds, looks like that friendship boat is about to capsize.
Su Han scrolled for a while, got bored, and ended up digging through old posts on the survivalist forum, honestly wishing she could just memorize every survival tip out there. Reading is one thing; remembering it under pressure is another. If something wasn’t burned into your brain, you’d freeze up at crunch time.
To her surprise, the survivalist forum had a ton of threads discussing infinite flow survival games, turns out, plenty of people signed up. But everyone played it smart, carefully sidestepping any sensitive topics.
“My first time using a slingshot to hunt birds was a disaster. After three days of practice, I kind of got the hang of it. By day five or seven, I was nailing it. Sold heaps of grilled sparrows and pigeons, eating good every day now! (smug grin)”
“Catching at least eight fish a day here, hahaha (throwing my head back laughing). All those fishing skills finally paid off!”
“Let’s be real: green onion pancakes are where it’s at, okay? First thing after logging in, I bought ingredients and whipped up hundreds in minutes. Spent the leftover cash stockpiling medicine and essentials.”
“How do your green onion pancakes taste? I make shrimp fritters, so delicious! Gets a little old after a while, but hey, survival takes priority. You’ll eat whatever it takes to stay alive.”
Hunting, fishing, pancake-making, these were all highlighted in top forum guides, so no one shied away; instead, they traded practical tips with each other.
After reading through the threads, Su Han realized: maybe it was because everyone here casually followed survival news, but all the survivalist regulars seemed to be thriving.
Makes sense, really. Clean water was a must-have, no one would forget it. High-energy food? Essential, major crowd favorite as a staple. With true survivalist instincts, everyone scrambled to grab as many resources as possible when the game started…
So, naturally, their survival rates were off the charts. Some even used it as a chance to make serious bank,
“Think you can top me? I bought supplies and made a mountain of soap, racking in buckets of cash! Hahahaha! My teacher was right, master STEM and you can conquer the world!”
A crowd of fans replied, praising the OP as some kind of big-brain god.
Su Han smiled quietly, so this is what it’s like having an engineer’s brain. Even if he shared his secrets, no one else could copy him, there was a real skill barrier here.
Shaking her head with a soft sigh, Su Han decided to call it a night. Tomorrow was round two of the tournament, and she needed her rest to power through the next challenge.
She slept like a rock.
The next day, after breakfast and a quick wash-up, Su Han climbed into her game pod.
At exactly 8 a.m., all contestants logged into the game together.
Just like last time, her vision blurred, and Su Han found herself engulfed in thick fog.
The next moment, a mechanical voice rang out, “Welcome to the ‘Infinite Survival Game.’ You currently have 100 points. Would you like to enter the game shop?”
Su Han instantly chose “Yes.”
A shop menu popped up. She scanned it, most of the sold-out items from before had been restocked, but both “personal inventory” and “super value pack” were nowhere to be found.
Su Han guessed that, knowing how this system liked to play, the first hour after entering a new instance was crucial. She quickly topped off her supplies, one category at a time. Final inventory: 100 bars of soap, 100 bottles of mineral water, 20 meat floss cream buns, 40 packets of instant noodles, 69 bags of slingshot ammo, a food crate (empty), a daily necessities crate (empty), a medical kit (10 medical bandages, 7 boxes of antibiotics), a fuel box (5 candles, 5 lighters, 1 magnesium rod, 1 flint), and a toolbox (a backpack, 2 slingshots, a fishing rod, and loose steel pellets).
Seeing she was almost fully prepped, she exchanged her last 15 points for 1,500 coins, then closed out the menu.
The system asked, “Preparation complete. Would you like to enter the game now?”
With zero hesitation, Su Han selected, “Yes.”
A flash of white light, and Su Han officially entered round two.