It took Ling Mo a full thirty minutes of in-game time to read and fully grasp the friendly fire rules.

Just… absurd.

“The detailed rules for friendly fire alone nearly match the entire rulebook of an average game,” Ling Mo muttered while chewing bland roasted meat.

He didn’t mind Xia Xinyan’s earlier shot. After all, it was just a game—not real murder. He’d “killed” enough NPCs and players in past games to fill a small town. If anyone had no right to object, it was him.

Sure, VR immersion might feel different from desktop gaming… but to him, it still felt roughly the same.

Besides… Xia Xinyan was impressively decisive. And her aim? Flawless.

He’d originally planned to carry her—but now it felt like *she* was carrying *him*.

In that moment, Ling Mo silently resolved: he’d master this game fast. He’d be the one carrying Xia Xinyan soon.

While he ate, Xia Xinyan checked the loot dropped by the two previous players.

Plenty of supplies: firearms, ammo, even a compact tent and two sleeping bags.

Exactly what they needed.

“Looks like we’ll sleep well tonight,” Xia Xinyan said with a smile after hauling everything into the cave. She dusted her hands. “It’s getting late. Finish eating, then rest.”

Ling Mo nodded, then paused. “Wait… could those two players come back later for revenge?”

He’d just realized it. In a game this immersive, dying to another player bred far deeper resentment than in typical PvP. One hot-headed opponent could spark a relentless vendetta.

“No,” Xia Xinyan sat beside him, voice calm. “The game blocks post-instance contact. Unless you add someone as a friend *inside* the instance, you can’t find matched players afterward. It’s to prevent revenge culture.”

*Realm of Divine Descent* aimed to help humanity strengthen itself against future calamities. Rampant revenge would ruin that purpose.

Want revenge? Add them as a friend first and duel fairly. Or settle it offline—real life, real fists. That’s beyond the game’s scope. But *inside* the game? Rules apply.

Voluntarily leaving an instance without dying also carried a penalty: three days banned from combat zones. Safe zones had no such restriction—but Xia Xinyan didn’t care. Safe zones felt like adults playing house. Meaningless.

Newbies could grind there. She didn’t need to. And with her around, neither did Ling Mo.

After dinner, they moved the campfire deeper into the cave to hide the glow. The space was roomy, the passage short—oxygen wouldn’t be an issue overnight.

Ling Mo set up the tent at the back. Just enough room for two sleeping bags… but sharing it would be tight.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll take watch. You sleep.”

Xia Xinyan checked her status panel: [Drowsiness], [Fatigue]. Ling Mo had identical stats—he must feel the same.

“No need,” she said plainly. “Sleep together. It’s just a game. Resting clears debuffs better than staying up all night.”

“Ah… but what if someone finds the cave?”

“I’ll sense it.” She tugged him into the tent. “Relax. Players or enemies won’t attack the second they enter.”

“No… I mean… what if a snake crawls in?”

“The fire keeps them away.” She wrapped her arm around his, voice soft with mock sorrow. “Or… do you *not* want to sleep with me?”

“…!”

Ling Mo froze.

S… s… s-s-s… *sleep together*?!

She actually meant it?!

No—wait—this is moving too fast…

It’s just a game… but… shouldn’t we be careful…?

—Even in the dim tent, Xia Xinyan saw his panic.

He looked exactly like a girl whose boyfriend just asked, *“Can I stay over tonight?”*

*Again*, her view of her past self shifted.

She knew she had desire but zero courage—but *this* level of cowardice? Unbelievable.

When a girl’s this direct, can’t he just be honest?! He’s not the one losing out!

And it’s *just a game*!

She wondered: if she invited him to sleep together IRL, would he blue-screen on the spot?

*Idiot.*

Without another word, she zipped the tent shut, spun around, and pushed Ling Mo onto the sleeping bag. “Decision made! We sleep together tonight~!”

“No… ah… I—"

Before he could finish, she covered his mouth, leaned down until her body pressed lightly against his, breath warm against his skin.

“Shh—! Be good. Time to rest.” A soft chuckle. Then she rolled onto her side, back to him, eyes closed.

She truly intended to sleep. In this environment, peak readiness mattered. Her past-life instincts guaranteed she’d wake at the slightest anomaly.

The instance’s low difficulty helped too—no surprise instant-kill scenarios without clear warnings. Other players? Unlikely to attack on sight.

She could rest easy.

But Ling Mo couldn’t.

He lay frozen, staring blankly at the tent ceiling.

Her weight. That fleeting contact.

For the first time… he felt it.

He was in love.