Professor Song straightened up from the stack of documents on his desk, then removed his glasses, pointed at the chairs on the other side, and said, “All of you, sit.”

Bai Youwei, Zhu Shu, Su Man, and Yu Yaqing sat down one after another.

The elderly professor produced a prepared form and handed a copy to each of them. His voice was hoarse and slow:

“In order to make our communication more efficient and to ensure we miss as few questions as possible, I’ve prepared this form. The questions we need answered are essentially all here. I hope you can fill it out as thoroughly and accurately as you can.”

The four of them received the form—thick as a textbook—and were momentarily surprised.

This thick…

They probably couldn’t fill it out in a whole day, could they?

Then they heard Professor Song say, “The following sections are forms from other games, which you may use for reference. Consider it a small repayment from the research group to you.”

Bai Youwei flipped to the back and discovered that the portion they actually needed to fill out was only the first two pages. Everything else was information from other games.

—Except for Game No. 21, the others ran from No. 1 to No. 23 in neat, orderly sequence. The information had been compiled by personnel within the organization. Some entries had only a single page; others ran to five or six.

Bai Youwei skimmed through it and thought this professor was quite competent.

“You may begin filling them out,” Song Mingchuan said in his raspy voice. “If there’s anything you don’t understand, ask me anytime.”

So each of them took a pen from the table and began to write.

The first question was “The Game’s Theme.”

This was easy. Bai Youwei wrote: “The Final Bride.”

The second question was “Characteristics of the Inspector.”

Bai Youwei furrowed her brow and began to write: “Adult male appearance, blond hair and blue eyes, tall and slim with long limbs like a noodle, dressed in ornate formal wear…”

As she wrote, she had a sudden impulse. She stopped her pen and flipped through the back forms.

She found a similar description, and in front of the description there was an annotation: Comic-book Hunk.

Bai Youwei was somewhat surprised. “Is that the inspector’s name?”

Professor Song looked over, his face expressionless. “Inspectors have no names, no gender, no age. The annotations are what most players call them, for ease of distinction. The organization uses these names as well.”

He spoke and, looking down, scanned the page Bai Youwei was holding, and added: “Sometimes a single inspector goes by more than one name. Comic-book Hunk, for example, is also called Noodle-Man and Leggy Male Model. When we record them, we use the name with the highest usage rate.”

Bai Youwei flipped through further. Essentially every inspector she had encountered was documented.

Ball’s names were the most consistent—either “Ball,” “Round Ball,” or “Gravity Ball,” always with “ball” in it.

The rabbit-headed person had two names: “Rabbit-Headed Gentleman” and “Magician.”

The gray-robed old man had the most names: “Gale Freak,” “Faceless Freak,” “Wind-Robed Elder,” “Cloaked Elder,” “Mushroom Cloak”…

When Bai Youwei saw “Mushroom Cloak,” the corner of her mouth gave a little twitch.

Thinking back to the old man standing motionless in his cloak—yes, he actually did look quite like a mushroom.

Besides these four inspectors she knew, she also spotted some unfamiliar names: “Puppet Master,” “Ghost Flame,” and others.

It seemed the number of inspectors was more than four. She just didn’t know how they divided up their duties, whether there was a hierarchy among them, and whether they cooperated—or competed—with one another.

The professor was still waiting for them to fill out the forms, so her questions would have to be set aside for now.

Bai Youwei picked up her pen and started writing. Knowing that the thick stack underneath was a gift from the other party, she wrote very thoroughly. People subconsciously feel the urge to reciprocate, and she was no exception.

She wrote at length, then glanced over at Su Man’s form—and couldn’t help but go still.