Today was the game’s launch day. Few players had logged in—all newcomers with zero knowledge of the game. No one chatted. Everyone used the prep time to familiarize themselves with the system.

Soon, the instance officially began. All players in the room were teleported to an open field.

A boundless tropical forest surrounded them. No trace of human civilization was visible anywhere.

Then, the game system prompt appeared before everyone:

[Zone: Fervent Island]

[Difficulty: Low]

[Time Flow Rate: 3x]

[Description: You’ve been invited to a 24-hour wilderness survival reality show. The program begins now.]

[Current Objective: Survive until the next day]

[Bulletin: The Pretty Boys Protection Association strongly condemns this overly macho show. They will arrive on the island in 3 hours. Prepare accordingly.]

"..."

A brief silence fell.

Finally, the muscular man spoke up. "What kind of joke is this? The Pretty Boys Protection Association? Targeting me?"

"Hahaha, who told you to roll a tank build? Can’t blame anyone," mocked a nearby man whose beauty surpassed even that of a woman.

The muscular man sized him up and snorted coldly. "So you’re the one they’re here to protect? Just a two-yolk egg oozing estrogen."

In-game appearances could be customized, but gender was locked to prevent cross-playing. To stop players from claiming one gender while using another’s avatar, the system allowed basic profile checks—minimal info, but gender was unhideable. Male panels glowed blue. Female panels, pink.

Xia Xinyan glanced around, then gently took Ling Mo’s hand. "Let’s go first."

Ling Mo blinked, slightly taken aback. "Not stay a little longer?"

"Nothing worth watching here," Xia Xinyan winked at him with a hint of flirtation. "Don’t you want some alone time together?"

"Ah..." Ling Mo went speechless.

Seeing his flustered, pure expression, Xia Xinyan mentally added, *Idiot.*

His emotional defenses were paper-thin… so easy to breach.

Tsk. But she was getting more used to playing the girl role.

Upon entering the instance, each player received a smartwatch. Beyond telling time, it displayed the island map—functioning like a radar.

Supplies were scattered across the island, all marked clearly. Their first priority: secure gear for self-defense.

"The time flow here is tripled," Xia Xinyan explained casually as they strolled. "One real-world second equals three here. The three-hour prep window is instance-time, meaning we only have one real hour of safety."

Ling Mo still looked puzzled. "Doesn’t that make a single run take hours?"

Even at triple speed, a full in-game day meant eight real hours—far too long for a session.

"Not really," Xia Xinyan shook her head. "No matter how long you spend inside, logout caps at three real hours. That’s the fixed maximum per instance. Isn’t it fascinating?"

"How? What’s the principle behind it?"

"Who knows? Maybe it’s the realm of the divine."

Ling Mo didn’t take the quip seriously. He frowned, thinking hard. "If someone spent ten years inside but only an hour passed outside… wouldn’t that cause time disorientation?"

"Nope," Xia Xinyan smiled. "Maximum stay per instance is half a month. Fail to complete the objective? Auto-fail and eject. Plus, after logout, the system gently softens your memories of the instance—no severe disorientation."

At least, not in the early stages.

"Softening" didn’t mean forgetting. It made the experience feel distant, like watching a first-person movie.

This minimized psychological strain. Death was terrifying for most people.

The time differential was another factor. This handling left players feeling like they’d simply lost track of time—like saying "just one more match" and gaming until dawn. No serious disorientation.

"So this Pretty Boys Protection Association…" Ling Mo’s brow furrowed, expression serious. "Enemies? Here to kill us?"

"Most likely," Xia Xinyan tilted her head, amused.

*He’s getting serious…*

For a straightforward guy like him, a challenging game held more appeal than romance—even while playing with a girl, he’d focus. If his partner was incompetent? He’d probably mentally scream, *"Why team with such a noob? Just quit already."*

Don’t doubt it. She knew herself well. That’s exactly how she used to be.

…But that was fine. Taking the game seriously was key.

"Does player appearance matter?" Ling Mo pressed. "Some earlier players looked like pretty boys too."

"Once you join this survival game, you’re no longer a 'pretty boy'," Xia Xinyan chuckled lightly.

Though hailed as a "second world," *Realm of Divine Descent* remained a game. In typical RPGs, even if you modeled your avatar after Diaochan, street thugs wouldn’t react—they followed preset scripts.

Same here. The Association’s NPCs were inherently hostile toward players. Not absolute—players could sometimes turn NPCs—but it was rarely easy, and depended entirely on the system’s whims. In a shallow, brainless instance like this? Nearly impossible.

But that wasn’t their concern right now.

While chatting, they drifted unknowingly to a stream.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves. Water splashed gently against smooth stones. Startled animals scattered along the bank. The scene felt like a painted utopia.

This world, this game—not only vividly real, but holding a poetic beauty rarely found in reality.

For a moment, Ling Mo was utterly mesmerized.

Xia Xinyan, still holding his hand, stood quietly by the water and smiled. "Rest here awhile?"