Before a winding river stood a man covered in wounds. His stern, scarred face was clearly visible in the water’s reflection.
“This is the Fate Space…”
A voice suddenly whispered in his ear.
“Congratulations on your victory. Per the game’s rules, you shall be granted a divine seat and join the ranks of the gods…”
Before it could finish, the man cut in.
“I have a question.”
“Interrupting isn’t polite. But I know what you’ll ask. The answer is: no.”
“…”
Hearing this, the man gave a wry, helpless smile.
“Would you truly abandon the divine seat countless souls fought to claim?”
“I’ve lost too much. If I can’t bring them back… what use is this seat to me?”
He rose to leave. All he wanted was a quiet place to end it all. He’d clung to hope—until this voice shattered the last shred of it.
Exhausted, he’d lost all will to fight.
The voice called out.
“If you refuse the seat… how about trading it for a second chance?”
“…”
The man froze. A second chance?
Then… he could change fate.
“You’re tempted. But heed this: altering the past is perilous. One small change reshapes the future you know.”
“If I can return… I fear nothing.”
He turned back, resolve hardened.
“Very well. Make your wish to the River of Fate…”
As the voice faded, a Coin of Destiny fell from the sky. He caught it, walked to the riverbank, gazed at his reflection—and let the coin slip into the water.
—
Beep… beep… beep… Beep… beep… beep… Beep… beep… beep…
The alarm clock’s shrill ring pulled him from sleep. Groggy, he awoke in a room both unfamiliar and familiar. He drew the curtains, welcoming long-lost sunlight and peace.
“September 5th. Five days left…”
On September 10th, the world’s nations would jointly launch *Fate Paradise*—a fully immersive VR game that ignited global frenzy.
In this high-pressure era, games became humanity’s sanctuary. Hence the name.
Yet it was no paradise. A vast conspiracy lurked beneath. Who’d guess the Elder Gods’ tendrils had already ensnared Earth, turning it into a new battlefield?
Who’d suspect the social media CEO endlessly mocked online was an Elder God growing stronger on human curses and resentment?
Who’d imagine a Q&A site hid an Elder God weaving users’ absurd tales into infinite parallel worlds to fuel its power?
…
“Time to prepare thoroughly.”
As the saying goes: *Forewarned is forearmed.*
Qin Yu had already drafted a rough seven-day plan for *Fate Paradise*’s launch. He kept it flexible—the game’s world was too unpredictable.
Beyond that, pre-launch battles had already begun. For an MMORPG like this, resources were key: funds, gear, and real-money spending at launch.
Qin Yu could only scrape together 50,000 yuan.
Paying outright would get a mid-tier setup—but he dismissed it. To someone who knew the game inside out, that bundle was awkward. Better to save for the bare-minimum version.
In his past life, he’d chosen the cheap version to save cash—and deeply regretted it.
First-time buyers of the top-tier game pod received a lottery draw: decent gear, weapons… even skills.
Skills were vital for early exploration. Missing that chance was irreversible—like China’s first-home buyer policy. No do-overs.
The 200,000-yuan pod required a 50,000-yuan down payment. Default next month? Credit blacklist.
And zero cash meant trouble—even for food.
“September 5th… I remember.”
Qin Yu suddenly recalled something critical. He rushed downstairs.
Lottery tickets—the classic reincarnation-story shortcut.
Few remembered numbers perfectly. But this draw was special: area code (1551), birthday (26), lucky digit (6).
155126, 6.
Ticket bought, he returned home. Win or not, he had a backup plan.
If he lost? Go all-in: installment pod, then gold-farm early-game.
But he’d avoid it if possible. Dealing with players meant trouble.
Powerful guilds undercut prices, monopolized markets, crushed solo players.
Cash trades risked exposure—real identity traced, real-world trouble.
Best to stay under the radar until strong enough. *Silence is golden when amassing wealth.*
Plus, early-game prices were unstable. Selling high-tier gear? Only helped rivals.
“In the end… it’s a gamble. All hinges on these numbers.”
Win or lose, Qin Yu had his path. Nothing would stop him.
That evening, the host droned on before the draw began.
First number: 1.
Second: 5.
Third: 5.
Fourth: 1.
Fifth: 2.
…
Sweat beaded on Qin Yu’s palms. *Could this be real?* An 80-million-yuan jackpot… enough to solve everything.
No. Too soon to hope.
The sixth ball spun… endlessly. To him, an hour passed.
The sixth number was…
