Then she ran over, grabbed one of his legs, and pulled him out like a radish.
After a dusty and grimy experience, Lin You realized the virtual engine needed adjusting. It couldn’t be based on real-world experience; a balance had to be struck between reality and virtuality.
He altered the world’s gravity to about half of reality’s. In the air, gravity changed with altitude.
Scarves never tangled or wrapped around the player.
As long as the player moved, they’d gently flutter, even without wind, looking very elegant.
Even if a level was excessively long, causing unavoidable dragging on the ground, the player would remain spotless.
Unless the player initiated an action or was attacked, they’d never be upside down. At most, a ninety-degree forward or backward tilt; players wouldn’t become dizzying spinning tops in the air.
These details were incredibly tedious but crucial. He had to experience, modify, and test them one by one.
After finishing the desert, there were still the underground, the temple, the snow mountain, and the Peak of the Holy Mountain—none could be neglected.
This part of the work was far more time-consuming than he’d imagined. He thought he could finish in two or three days, but it wasn’t until the morning of the fifth day that he initially completed it.
Having finished, he practically fled the Virtual world.
He’d been working almost day and night these past few days, adjusting the world. Now his hair was messy, his stubble was prominent, and exhaustion seeped from his entire being.
Finally finishing this stage, he eagerly climbed out of bed, haphazardly throwing on clothes as he entered the cramped bathroom, turned on the showerhead, and stood beneath it to refresh himself.
An incident occurred during those days.
That day, he’d just finished adjusting the lighting effects of the horizontal corridor in the quicksand level and switched to the underground level.
The moment the Mechanical Underworld Dragon appeared, a loud crash startled him, making him jump, thinking something major had gone wrong.
But Xiaomeng reminded him that someone was banging on the door in reality.
He exited the virtual space, approached the peephole, and saw a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old young man violently banging on the door and shouting obscenities.
Lin You didn’t hesitate to call the police.
After police intervention, the young man admitted he’d been incited by online public opinion, believing Lin You would affect NetDragon’s new game launch, delaying his ability to play it, and acted impulsively. He apologized and asked for forgiveness.
Lin You demanded the young man’s name, phone number, and ID number, otherwise he wouldn’t accept the apology.
The young man cautiously asked what he wanted it for. Lin You stated he was making new VR equipment but didn’t intend to sell it to him.
The young man clearly wanted to mock his overconfidence, but seeing the police officer, he held back.
To avoid further repercussions from Lin You, he provided the information, though clearly not expecting to ever buy anything from him.
This poor child didn’t yet understand what awaited him.
Every fully immersive device sold commercially would refuse his registration.
He would completely miss the next era of the gaming industry.
“Helping a gaming addict quit is a virtuous deed,” Lin You thought uncharacteristically.
“Ma Lian, I remember you. You can go.”
Though this young man was noted in Lin You’s little black book, Lin You knew NetDragon bore a significant portion of the blame, so he silently added another mark against them.
After that day, Princess Cixia started calling him every night, gently comforting him, saying things like his classmates supported him.
He wasn’t stressed and didn’t need consoling.
But after a long day’s work, the Princess’s patient reassurance was a nice way to unwind, so he didn’t refuse.
Now that the game was mostly finished, it needed testing by players other than the creator.
He naturally thought of Zhu Cixia first; she was the only person he knew well in this world.
The Princess readily agreed, saying she’d come to see it in the afternoon.
Lin You tidied his apartment and moved the two assembled devices to the sofa.
His rented apartment was small, but it had everything needed.
The equipment was now organized and presentable, unlike before when wires and ports were exposed, giving it a post-apocalyptic punk vibe.
He again instructed the building management to restock his groceries, filling the refrigerator.
—With such high property fees, instructing the building management didn’t bother his conscience at all.
He indulged in a luxurious four-dish-and-soup meal for himself, satisfying his hunger.
Then he lazily sprawled on the sofa watching TV, while Xiaomeng excitedly browsed gossip on Lingxi.
He relaxed until Zhu Cixia arrived.
Lin You again asked the bodyguard to come in, and was again silently refused. He then entered the apartment.
He wasn’t discouraged; Liu Bei visited Zhuge Liang three times, and he hadn’t even left his apartment yet.
Once he became closer to the Princess, finding a reliable shooting range wouldn’t be difficult, and even asking for advice wasn’t impossible.
He was just worried the stoic bodyguard wasn’t good at teaching.
As soon as the Princess entered, she saw the two white head rings, slightly wider than hairbands, on the sofa. Intrigued, she asked Lin You, “Can I take a look?”
“Of course, feel free.”
The Princess, studying art while pursuing a double major in Lin You’s department, was certainly interested in new technology.
However, just looking at the head ring revealed nothing; the core technology wasn’t in the head ring itself.
Unable to discern anything, she asked Lin You, “You can play without a helmet, just using this small head ring? Where’s the display? And I don’t see an omnidirectional treadmill in your apartment.”
Though she didn’t usually play games, the Princess understood their components: curved display, controller, omnidirectional treadmill. Game consoles were usually wirelessly connected nearby or integrated into the computer.
Since most technology came from official sources, there weren’t strict technical barriers between manufacturers, nor between game consoles and personal computers. Over the years, many companies had merged.
“You don’t need those. Just sit down, put on the head ring, and lean against the sofa.”
The Princess obediently sat down and put on the head ring.
“Do you have a preferred startup phrase?”
“What?” The Princess didn’t understand.
“Something like, ‘Let Great Xia be great again!’”
The Princess couldn’t help but playfully hit his arm. “Who would say that every day?”
“Alright, I’ll start it manually.” Lin You shrugged, pressing the start button on the Princess’s head ring and starting his own.
He didn’t expect anyone here to understand his reference.
It was a pity he couldn’t see the former president’s triumphant return to the White House, a return he was strongly favored to achieve before his time travel!
He felt immense regret at missing that moment!
(End of Chapter)