Chapter Fifty-Three: Homecoming (Part One)

On September 14th, 2206, at 10:30 a.m. in Central Asia, a flash of brilliant light swept across the region. Inside the game experience center, at pod number fifty, strange runes suddenly appeared on the metallic surface, glowing with a mysterious purple light.

“Ding! Congratulations, believer number 6330213, for returning safely. You are the second believer to return in Central Asia and the seventh in the entire Federation. You have brought glory to the Lord of Silver Moon and have received: one bottle of Royal Bloodline Elixir (choose your type), one Dark-Gold Enchanted Dagger (silver grade: imbued with the Flicker skill), one Elven Featherlight Armor (silver grade), and fifty thousand energy points!”

Guo Lang, whose consciousness had just returned, was immediately dazzled by the pile of rewards—just as the rumors from his previous life had said, the first batch of returning players truly received immense benefits, especially those who returned earliest!

First and foremost, the Royal Bloodline Elixir, worth a hundred thousand energy points, was the most extraordinary reward in the early stages. Guo Lang had been worrying about where to find a bottle, having bought one on credit for Alice and now burdened with debt, unsure how to repay it—let alone afford another. But the main god gifted him one upon return? If this wasn’t the main character’s template, what was? Guo Lang secretly reveled in his luck.

The other rewards were equally enticing. The enchanted dagger, for instance, was a rare treasure; in his previous life, enchanted equipment often fetched astronomical prices. The process was extremely complex—not only requiring master craftsmen but also skilled wizards to engrave stable magical matrices onto the weapon, plus a variety of exotic materials. In his era, even top golden-tier experts mostly wielded bronze-grade enchanted weapons, let alone Guo Lang, who was barely bronze himself!

The dagger’s Flicker skill was exceptionally practical—it allowed the wielder to use shadow energy to make short-range spatial jumps, up to five meters, fully controllable within that range. In combat or complex situations, this was invaluable, especially for assassin-type professions.

Guo Lang also recognized the Elven Featherlight Armor, coveted by wizards in his previous life who offered huge bounties for it. Crafted by elven master artisans from white phoenix feathers and life tree root essence, it was lighter than a feather yet possessed extraordinary protective abilities. It not only defended against sharp weapons but also absorbed a certain degree of physical impact. When the armor sensed a high-impact attack, it would automatically activate a magical shield, capable of withstanding three strikes from high-level silver magic!

In terms of power, magical attacks were always far superior to physical ones of the same tier—not even in the same league. A high-level silver warrior’s full-force strike might leave a ten-meter crater in the ground, but a magical attack could demolish a hundred-story skyscraper. Thus, the armor was a life-saving artifact.

Lastly, fifty thousand energy points—Guo Lang grinned with delight. What could he do with fifty thousand? Pay off his loan. And after that? Well, whatever remained, he could repay gradually later. At this thought, Guo Lang’s excitement dimmed a little.

Taking a deep breath, Guo Lang opened the game pod and slowly stepped out. His movements were light and cautious—if the outside was surrounded by swarms of soldiers, it would be quite a scene. He knew that in his previous life, the first batch of returning players had been too reckless, prompting the Federation government to adopt a “wait by the rabbit hole” strategy, guarding the game pods and catching many unsuspecting players.

But considering he was the seventh to return, the second in Central Asia, special forces shouldn’t have arrived so quickly, right?

Exiting the game pod, Guo Lang carefully surveyed his surroundings. The hall was empty and eerily quiet; the game hall owner and the alluring guide were gone. Glancing at the electronic clock on the wall, he saw: 2206-09-14, 10:30. Guo Lang was stunned. Only half an hour had passed?

He nearly missed the top ten despite such efficiency? Truly a pack of monsters!

Stretching his limbs, Guo Lang quickly jumped to the second floor. Through the window, he saw a crowd still queued below. He had no interest in being entangled with them—he was desperate to go home. In this life, he’d only been away for a few hours, but in his previous life, it had been over a decade. Faces of his family flickered in his mind—after so long, they were almost blurry...

Surveying his options, Guo Lang jumped down via the air conditioning ducts at the back of the building. With his new agility attributes, he could leap from the second or third floor without so much as a roll—his body’s coordination allowed him to control his landing mid-air, absorbing impact like a cat.

Upon landing, Guo Lang glanced at the group of students still waiting at the corner and sighed. Whether these kids were fortunate or not, the era was changing. He wished them luck and vanished into the alley with nimble steps.

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In Northern Europe, due to the time difference, it was 10 p.m. Emergency meetings had ended, and President Trick and CIA Director Hank were alone in the presidential office.

“Any news?” The president’s voice sounded weary.

“None, Mr. President,” Hank replied respectfully. “The three young people are still missing. As for the private game pods, many noble families refused to hand them over to the government for safekeeping. It seems someone leaked details of the meeting.”

Bang! Trick slammed the table, furious. “Those damned parasites.”

Faced with the president’s anger, Hank remained silent, waiting patiently.

After a moment, the president drew a long breath and spoke solemnly: “Time is of the essence, Hank. This so-called intelligent game was first tested in Northern Europe—we were the first to discover anomalies. Other regions, due to time zones, are behind us by several hours. We have a window of advantage—ten, maybe more hours. Don’t waste this opportunity. I sense a great secret in those who returned, a secret that could change this world. We must seize the initiative.”

“Yes, Mr. President. I won’t let you down,” Hank replied with determination, fully aware of the gravity of the situation.

“Go on, then.” The president patted his shoulder in encouragement. “I believe in you.”

Hank saluted and exited the office. Once outside, his previously respectful gaze turned dark. In truth, during the Northern European council, the incident had only occurred a few hours prior. Some regions far from Northern Europe hadn’t even begun testing—like Central Asia. If the Federation had been notified immediately, millions could have avoided disaster. Nine million participated in the test in Northern Europe, and only three had returned!

The rest—dead or missing, no one could say. Logic dictated that the Federation’s central administration should have been alerted and the game immediately locked down, but the council chose to suppress the information instead, passing the motion almost unanimously.

Human life? To these capitalist politicians, it was often insignificant.

There was another matter—his daughter, only twenty, a student at Newk University, had also purchased a game pod. Hank concealed its existence, refusing to hand it over to the authorities. Everyone had their own selfish motives. He knew those who returned would surely gain something remarkable, and if caught by the government, they might be subjected to live experiments. He would never allow his daughter to suffer such a fate. As for whether she could return, Hank was confident. As a former agent, he had trained his daughter from a young age—she was outstanding. If ordinary students could return, he refused to believe his daughter would fail.