“Husband? What’s wrong?” The woman frantically shook the man sprawled, unresponsive, on the sofa, her expression on the verge of collapse. “Somebody help! Is anyone there? My husband won’t wake up—what’s happening?”

She’d assumed he’d just gotten drunk the night before. But now, no matter what she tried, she couldn’t rouse him. If he wasn’t breathing, she’d believe he was a corpse right in front of her.

“...Son... don’t scare Mama like this.”

Just a moment before, her son had been eating at the table, but now he’d pitched forward, face-down on the floor, eerily silent. The woman rushed over, cradling him up, but there was no response.

“Sweetheart... come on, don’t sleep anymore. Come look at the beautiful sunrise. You’ve been sleeping all day, aren’t you ready to wake up?”

A young father, smiling dotingly, pinched his rosy-cheeked daughter’s nose. But then he noticed—her skin had gone cold. The smile faded from his lips.

“Wang Da... Big Brother Wang... You promised yesterday you’d protect me until the end of the game...”

A pretty woman, shy and delicate, leaned into the hulking man’s arms, about to mention the sashimi, when suddenly his knees buckled. His head slumped to the side, striking the corner of the metal chest with a sickening thud.

Blood seeped from his forehead, staining the carpet crimson. The woman’s scream shook the walls; only belatedly did it occur to her to call for help.

…

On the cruise liner, hundreds of similar incidents erupted at once. People collapsed suddenly, utterly unresponsive—no matter how loudly others called, they wouldn’t wake. Rumors of ghosts haunted the decks.

Ye Shu heard the talk and only chuckled, dismissing it with a shake of her head. If ghosts were truly at work, would anyone still have their life to tell the tale?

She’d seen things far more uncanny before; she wanted no part of it ever again.

With practiced hands, she pried open a durian, savoring its golden flesh. Its rich scent chased away the room’s cloying odor of brine.

Suddenly, the PA crackled overhead.

"This is the Royal Caribbean. I am your captain. My dear passengers, I regret to inform you of an unforeseen event: a large number of guests have lost consciousness for unknown reasons. What they all share is that none of them can be woken."

"Regrettably, our medical personnel have done everything possible, but still cannot determine the cause. For your safety, please remain in your cabins… Our crew will ensure food is distributed fairly—please do not worry!"

Ye Shu strained her ears, hoping for any useful hint. But aside from the captain’s attempts at reassurance, there was precious little information offered.

Meanwhile, in the control room, a shadow flickered across the captain’s eyes.

From the moment the ship had left port, more and more people began falling into comas. Secretly, they’d already been transferred to the medical ward on the 90th floor. The original plan had been to wait until docking to transfer them to a hospital ashore. But with so many collapsing at once, there was no way to keep things under wraps.

Worse yet, since last night, the Royal Caribbean had been drifting off course.

They’d lost all contact with land.

And ahead, the route would take them directly through the Chianmu Trapezium—a place sailors called ‘the Devil’s Triangle,’ notorious for centuries as a graveyard of ships and planes.

After giving fresh orders, Captain Peter took the elevator up to the 90th floor, where the medical staff stood waiting at the door.

"Captain… these patients… their cells look as if some kind of virus is devouring them. Maybe that’s why they’re not waking up."

All of the unconscious passengers looked surprisingly healthy, but over time their temperatures dropped—down to impossible levels. The lowest registered was 26°C. As everyone knows, normal body temperature is around 37°C.

Who could say if these people who’d fallen into comas were even still human?

It was the sixth day of the game.

Staff delivered meals to every door. All day, both players and NPCs holed up in their cabins. Only a handful complained and kicked up a fuss if their food displeased them.

At mealtime, Ye Shu deftly plugged her ears and nibbled on a pork floss pineapple bun.

A commotion erupted in the hallway—she didn’t need to listen to know it was the older lady from across the hall.

"This is your idea of Royal Cruise service? I refuse to eat boxed meals—I want a lobster feast and wine from ’82. Don’t you try to fob me off with orange juice!"

"That’s right, that’s right, I want seafood, I’m not eating bland noodles!"

A young boy licked his lips, his gaze filled with malice. He flung his bowl and utensils at the female crew member, scattering food everywhere.

Instead of apologizing, he sneered. "Ha! Serves you right! My mom says you people all eat well in secret and feed us pig slop."

The young crew member turned bright red, stung by the taunt.

"If my son starves, I’ll file a complaint, you hear me?"

With her enhanced physique, Ye Shu realized the only true downside was how even the ship’s solid walls couldn’t mute that woman’s booming voice.

She peeked through the peephole, eyeing the spilled seafood congee—by any standard, a generous meal. Compared to her humble pineapple bun, if that was ‘pig slop,’ then what was she eating?

Making use of the lull, Ye Shu assembled and disassembled her gun, an old-fashioned revolver she’d purchased from the game store—seven silver bullets, no silencer, and it still cost her ten points.

Only after scoping out the leaderboard did she realize: reaching the end of the game only earned five points. If it hadn’t been for her taomu sword upgrade, killing any number of monsters would’ve netted her nothing.

The runner-up only had eighty points.

Yet her tally was merely pocket change.

If only she could rack up more points before this round was up…

She shook her head—she needed to focus on strengthening her skills now.

Flawless, she completed a gun assembly and disassembly in moments—a product of relentless practice.

A tranquil day passed.

The game’s holographic display was nothing but player ridicule.

[Thunderstrike Kid: Survival games aren’t so hard after all. Some fainted, so what? Those from the last round just exaggerated.]

[Sakura Doll: Exactly! Out of a million players, we’re a third of the way through and still have 999,900 left. Even if there’s a virus, we have protective gear—what’s the captain’s problem with quarantining us?]

[That Guy, Xiao Shuai: Clearing this? Easy as pie.]

That night, the sea turned wild. Wind howled and rain lashed the glass, sending shivers up every spine. The mighty cruise ship rocked like a fragile leaf upon the endless waves.

Inside, things tumbled from the shelves; people clung to walls, unsteady on their feet.

The storm raged on, battering the ocean and the pride of overconfident players alike.