Summoning Players into My Game Chapter 1: Masterpiece

System: Soul connection... Connection successful...

System: Starting to import Martial Arts Transmission System...

System: Import successful, officially launching Martial Arts Transmission System.

Successive system notifications rang through his thoughts, prompting Lin Qi—hunched in the shabby Martial Arts Hall—to release a heavy breath of relief.

System: Please set the initial game introduction connection amount. This amount will be entirely borne by the player.

System: The larger the amount, the closer the player’s physical condition is to the original state, the shorter the resurrection time, the higher the amount needed for revival, the higher the soul connection completion, and the higher the fidelity of all sensations, including pain.

"Authenticity matters most in games. Max it out."

Hearing that players would cover the full cost, Lin Qi picked the highest option without a second thought.

System: Please set a game description.

"A description, eh?"

"Go big, something challenging to hook players into clicking."

Lin Qi pondered briefly before typing the description into the system interface.

The clash of a hundred nations, the fight of myriad clans, the path of growth, ascending to godhood, the saga of the Martial Artist—crafted by you.

This game offers 100% virtuality. Its ultra-realism demands caution; not for casual players lacking skill.

System: Confirm this game description? Once confirmed, it cannot be modified.

"Confirm!"

After double-checking for flaws, Lin Qi hit the confirmation on the system panel right away.

System: Game has been uploaded to Blue Star network, will launch in half an hour. Please wait, host.

...

Blue Star, 2325.

"Aim steady! Inhale deeply, exhale, clear your mind, loosen up fully—the crosshair shrinks on its own."

"Steadier mind means slower pulse, tighter aiming circle."

"Hold off, wait for the smallest circle possible."

"Go now!"

Within the virtual pod, a burly near-thirty-year-old with a rough face and bushy beard—big-bro vibe Fang Zhen—was coaching his stream audience on sniping while controlling a massive mecha.

One blast rang out, nailing a mechanical beast concealed in yellow dunes five kilometers off.

Beep.

A red marker flared on the distant mechanical beast, signaling its demise.

"One-shot kill! Brother Zhen, godlike!"

"Pro-level power?"

"Brother Zhen, this skill—retiring in half a year? Top-16 national mech champs can't top you."

Awe and cheers flooded the stream chat over Fang Zhen’s insane long-range shot.

'Mecha Continent', boasting 75% virtuality, ruled as Blue Star’s top mech battle game lately.

Average players struggled with basic mecha moves, let alone precision hits at hundreds of meters—that took months of grinding.

One-shotting a foe amid chaos five klicks away? Peak mastery.

"Aging hits hard, reflexes fade from my prime, and I’m ancient for pros. Even staying this year, next year’s newbies might crush me," Fang Zhen sighed. "Enough chatter. Let’s hunt fresh games today."

No one in the stream questioned Fang Zhen’s words.

The virtual esports scene was brutal, youth-dominated. Peaking till 25 was rare; at 30, you were past it.

Pros often pivoted to streaming or gigs as they aged.

Fang Zhen streamed for five years, gaining fame in Mecha Continent circles, sometimes cracking top-100 stream ranks.

As chat buzzed, Fang Zhen pulled up the game hub, where a new title with a five-headed Black Dragon icon snagged his gaze.

"Holy crap!"

"4999?! What blockbuster is this?!"

Fang Zhen rubbed his eyes, doubting the zeros.

Virtual engines everywhere meant tiny teams pumped out games daily across platforms.

Most cost under 100; even AAA topped at 500.

This 'Descent of High Martial' newbie? Tenfold price—out of reach for normies.

The stream chat detonated.

"Claims 100% virtual reality!"

"100% VR? Total BS—even giants hit under 80%. Never heard of 'Reality is Key', how’d they nail 100%?"

"Biggest brag ever. 4999 entry, 648 per death revive, miss 24 hours and account gone. Not for me."

"They nailed the realism vibe, first batch just 10 trial slots."

"Scam city. True 100% VR would leak pre-dev, global headlines. Experience build? Worldwide frenzy. If legit, I’ll eat noodles mid-aerial flips on stream."

"Ultra-real, skill-required—bold claims, Brother Zhen, dive in!"

Chat dissected 'Descent of High Martial's intro, sparking hot debate. Fang Zhen’s stream popularity skyrocketed—quadrupled in 30 seconds, rivaling big streamers.

Fang Zhen spotted the hype chance.

"Brothers, all hyped for this mystery? I’ll pioneer it for us." Fang Zhen clenched teeth, dropped 4999. "Reality is Key—if it flops, refund rush in two hours, mass-report to teach 'em realness!"

"Brother Zhen dominates!"

"4999! Wild pricing."

All cheered—streamer foots bill, they spectate free. Hype’s the win; buying means loss.

"Too real? Show me!"

Fang Zhen grinned, tapping 'Descent of High Martial' icon amid surging stream views.

...

Flickering lights in the gloomy cell, wind whistling past iron bars outside—Fang Zhen, freshly awake, felt disoriented.

"What happened? Where am I?"

"Wasn’t I firing up Descent of High Martial? How’d I land here?"

Stale rot stench, icy chains binding limbs, eerie drafts chilling the space—Fang Zhen shuddered, dread spiking.

Kidnapped!

Am I nabbed?

"Name?"

Before Fang Zhen could process panic, a harsh voice barked, yanking his instinctive reply.

"Fang Zhen, 'Fang' as in direction, 'Zhen' as in shake."

"Age?"

"29."

"That old... pretty worthless."

"No way, I’m prime, loaded savings, I can..."

As queries pressed, Fang Zhen snapped alert, sight sharpening.

Beyond bars, a pale-faced youth in black martial garb perched at a metal table, scribbling notes with pencil.

"Am I jailed?" Fang Zhen eyed the sharp youth; odd outfit, but voice and poise matched. He rushed, "Big bro, mistake here—I’m clean, just a streamer. Wrong guy!"

"No chit-chat, strangers."

"Officer then?"

"Serious: Hall Master or Lin Qi Master."

"Hall Master? Lin Qi Master?"

Fang Zhen blanked, unsure of this Lin Qi’s deal.

Kidnapper?

Cop?

Lunatic?

"29... 29..." Lin Qi eyed notes, twirled pencil, murmured, then fixed on Fang Zhen. "Prove it—2000 squats, two hours max. Begin."

"..." Fang Zhen froze, spooked.

Age test like this!?

2000 squats in two hours? Nutjobs this fun?

"Need a hand?"

"Nope! Solo, I got this, believe me."

As Lin Qi half-rose, Fang Zhen ditched doubts, launched squats ignoring shackles.

One... two... three...

"Good form, solid. No chain aid needed then." Lin Qi nodded at the frantic squats, rose, and exited the dank basement.