Alternate Dimension Game: Happiness is all that matters!
Chapter 152 - 143: The Game Between Higher Dimensions

Chapter 152: Chapter 143: The Game Between Higher Dimensions

Pan Hao swallowed and, at this critical moment, he could no longer bring himself to care whether the Soviet Union would disband; his life was what mattered most.

"Actually, I still don’t quite understand, young man... what are you doing here?"

"Well, to tell you the truth," Wang Hao said helplessly, "if I don’t interfere, in forty years, these demonic things... these disasters will emerge, and by then, many, many people will die."

"But now that I’ve handled this, in forty years, many fewer people will die."

"That’s pretty much it. I’m not sure if you can understand."

"This is a difficult task. I’ve failed hundreds of times already. The odds of success this time are high, so I chose this plan."

But to Pan Hao, this information brought a deep sense of conflicted feelings.

Saving the world?

He couldn’t describe how he felt.

Thirty-five-year-old Pan Hao had experienced many things, had encountered real capitalism, and craved the intoxicating allure of a hedonistic life.

The most recent time was when the team leader, Gregory, offered him to drink foreign liquor—high-proof whiskey—for one hundred US Dollars a glass.

For money, he drank ten glasses.

One thousand US Dollars acquired.

It was merely a compliance test before departure, but one thousand US Dollars was already a huge sum, and Pan Hao, addicted to the joy of earning money, happily accepted it.

Because that was simply how the world worked.

Money could rule everything!

Last month, in Causeway Bay on Hong Kong Island, a wealthy boss ordered the girls accompanying him to hold beer bottles between their legs.

To see how many they could hold, and then they had to finish the beer in one gulp.

One hundred US Dollars per bottle.

The girls went willingly, joyously laughing and chatting.

The one who drank the most chugged eight bottles.

Even Pan Hao himself found this amusing and fun. He even wanted to be that rich boss, to experience the thrill of lavish indulgence.

Everything pushed him to earn more money.

With money, one could command spirits, and more money could unleash infinite potential in a person, could afford the pleasures of lavish indulgence.

But when he was younger, it hadn’t been this way. He had once been diligent and ambitious, otherwise, he wouldn’t have learned foreign languages or been exposed to a broader world.

Once veiled by mundanity, one often forgets the true sublime and distance.

Decline was a gradual process. Life’s teaching was that wealth should not lead to depravity, nor poverty to concession, nor power to submission—theses that defined a truly great man. He had read about these in books as a child, and as an adult, he would reflect on them, but it was merely a reflection.

And now, the depraved him was here to save the world with this strange kid?

This realization shocked Pan Hao, as if forcibly switching from one life path to another.

Wang Hao, of course, did not know what he was thinking and said with a smile, "There’s something else we mustn’t forget. After you leave, hand this letter over to the local government. The greatest credit for this mission actually belongs to an old comrade named Li Xianfeng."

"Such great merit should not be forgotten, and you will have some credit as well."

Pan Hao took the letter and stuffed it into his pocket.

For some reason, that complex feeling surged within him again.

He chuckled bitterly in his heart; this letter... did it mean I was somewhat useful?

Alright, that settled him somewhat.

As for what was written in the letter, he didn’t care to check.

Curiosity was the deadliest thing in the world.

Curiosity kills!

Never mind, just do the job honestly.

And so, Pan Hao threw himself into digging energetically, digging a hole day and night without stopping except to eat.

He dug more than three meters deep before having to stop due to the risk of water seepage.

The entrance was small, only big enough for one person.

There were two small recesses below where one person could squat on each side.

Concerned for his own life, Pan Hao patted his chest and assured, "Cover the entrance with some sponge, rubber or something to make sure no sound can be heard!"

Seeing it was getting dark, Wang Hao nodded, "Then, let’s carry out the final plan tomorrow morning!"

...

The next day came quickly.

The location for the speaker had already been scouted—it was on a large camphor tree to the north of the village.

This camphor tree, in a place called "Paradise" with little sunlight, was not faring well.

The leaves were sparse and yellow.

As a centuries-old giant, its trunk was very thick; five people holding hands could not encircle it. Although it was partly rotten, it could still bear the weight of an adult climbing it.

Pan Hao carefully hung the speaker at the top of the camphor tree.

"It’s about to start... two Subordinate Demon Gods..."

After completing everything, Pan Hao felt his heart leap to his throat.

All he had to do was press the button!

The recorder would play the sound, and the loud blasts from the speaker would spread across the entire village!

This operation left him feeling somewhat bewildered.

Yes, a fate cruelly cut in half was now stitched back together by force.

He had to live another life.

"I never expected this journey to encounter so many bizarre things."

He shook his head, looking at the recorder in front of him.

And who was that child, really?

What if he abandons me, what should I do?

The first five minutes of the cassette tape were completely blank, setting some lead time to allow them to escape back to the hole.

"Ah... I must be crazy... thinking so much is useless!"

"This one last clean-up job, damn, it really isn’t easy!" Pan Hao muttered his characteristic grumbles.

He glanced at the child under the tree once more, whose expression was calm, revealing no ripples of emotion.

This child was the greatest terror in his eyes, the kind who dared not to utter a single word of defiance.

"Click!" He pressed a button on the recorder.

The tape began to play!

The rustling sound amplified from the speaker.

He jumped down from the tree at top speed, grabbed Wang Hao, and they dashed down the road! How could a frail child run a kilometer? They could only run with him on their back!

Fortunately, they encountered no danger along the way.

Pan Hao, carrying the old Wang, ran crazily back to the house, jumped into the prepared hole, and with both hands, forcefully moved a solid wooden box to block the entrance.

Lastly, he stuffed cotton into his ears.

His heart pounded wildly, sweat soaked his back, and he noted that it took less than four minutes.

"Good thing I ran fast enough!"

The two of them, wide-eyed, sat in the hole, panting heavily.

Had it played?

He didn’t know.

Pan Hao cranked the hand-operated flashlight, and a pale yellow light appeared in this gloomy, cramped environment.

He used a stick to write on the ground, "The speaker should be playing now, you see that straw trembling slightly, will all the oddities outside die?"

Wang Hao also wrote back, "Most of them should die, I guess. I am not sure about those without wisdom, whether they will die or not."

He erased the line he had just written and added another.

"But, forget about things like the Fountain of Youth, it is a derivative of the Demon God’s power, specifically used to lock onto others. If you borrowed its power, you would be subtly controlled by it, making it hard to escape. Can a mere commoner like you endure it?"

"You look strong and healthy, you shouldn’t be worrying about your lifespan right now."

Pan Hao gave a sheepish smile, this journey had nearly cost him his life, and he gained nothing, truly a loss down to the bone.

"Not that I particularly desire immortality, but it’s a bit frustrating, so many people died, and I didn’t even catch a glimpse."

Yet Wang Hao wrote again, "There are some jewels in the village, if you want to take them, I can help you find them."

"Fountain of Youth, you can see it, but you can’t take it."

Jewels?

Pan Hao’s nose twitched.

That was enough.

Just then, a significant tremor came from the outside, as if something had been provoked, rushing out of the house and engaging in a fight with each other!

Wang Hao couldn’t help but be moved, a smile appearing on his face.

When Pan Hao saw this smile, he felt more nervous than ever.

This great God, he really could only be carefully appeased, not daring to slack off.

Fortunately, this God was quite reasonable and not the barbaric, irrational type.

Wang Hao wrote again, "’It’ doesn’t kill instantly, but follows a gradual process."

"First, rationality continuously declines, and when it drops to a certain extent, the soul is then taken."

But these old-timers living in the village had ways to boost their own san value, even if it meant consuming other people’s blood or depriving others of their vitality, they could still slightly recover their san value.

So, they wouldn’t die easily for a while.

The best way to recover sanity was—the well to the north!

A drop of its water could stabilize one’s rationality for quite some time.

But the well was guarded by a "tree," and only by sacrificing life would the tree retrieve a few drops of water.

Either kill others, or attack this tree.

Thus, the ultimate prisoner’s dilemma began.

Under the never-dispersing white fog, the small village in the early morning faced its second historical purge today!

Since ’It’ had set such a rule, it could not betray itself.

The poison ingested, whether or not you acknowledge it as poison, had to be digested forcibly.

The shadow of the white fog hid the bodies of the dead; the turbulent river water kissed the flowing crimson blood; the cold air from the north drifted down the muddy path walked yesterday; a typhoon that killed everything blew through the luxurious temple; in the cave, the two huddled like ferns.

Chaos is not the Abyss.

Chaos is a ladder.

Many people tried to climb up, but failed and never had the chance to try again.

Failure destroyed them.

Some had the chance to die peacefully, but they refused.

They clung to life, to the Gods, to their own graves.

All were illusions.

Only chaos was real.

Merely pawns.

...

Pan Hao, terrified, discovered the child’s eyes before him overflowing with a faint luminescence.

He felt at peace, yet somewhat bewildered.

He was anxious, holding his breath.

He was witnessing a high-dimensional game.

He understood some, though details had yet to be completely figured out.

Occasional tremors from the outside sounded like bombs, causing massive shakes, indicating very strong supernatural abilities.

As for the confrontation between mysteries... who would win or lose, how many could survive, Wang Hao really didn’t care.

In the higher-dimensional game, he only cared about two Demon Gods.

As this pawn fell, checkmate!

...

...

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