How should I describe the five years I’ve spent?

First, I left my original room and woke up in an empty chamber. Standing there were three “Zodiacs”—Tiger, Rabbit, and Snake.

Their games were as simple as playing Duck, Duck, Goose to me. The only slightly challenging one was the Tiger-class combat game, but I had no opponents to fight against.

So I received a bye and was directly counted as “combat survival.”

Next, I only needed to crack a Rabbit-class escape password lock, then answer a few questions about ancient Chinese knowledge posed by Snake, and I could walk out of the room safe and sound.

As long as I cleared this type of game once, I could keep clearing it indefinitely, so the “interview room” could no longer trap me.

I descended before a solitary building in the “Land of the End.” The moment I opened my eyes, a girl with waist-length hair dressed entirely in black walked past me.

She glanced at me once, and I symbolically glanced at her once, but neither of us spoke a word before she hurried away.

I entered another long period of solitude. I never saw Baiyang, Mianyang, or Zhang Qiang again, but this time the solitude was somewhat different from before.

This solitude had an “end.”

I only needed to strengthen myself while continuously waiting—waiting until the day Baiyang appeared, and my solitude would be over.

So YNA is real.

Do you know why I tattooed these three letters on the side of the third segment of my index finger?

It’s because I can touch them with my thumb at any time.

Some words, as long as you keep saying them to yourself, will quickly become true.

Almost every day I recalled the three difficult problems Baiyang had left behind.

First, make people despair. Second, stop everyone from collecting “Dao.” Third, recruit trustworthy strong individuals.

These were clearly three difficult problems, yet Baiyang insisted on calling them one. Wasn’t he overestimating me a bit?

No matter how I thought about it, all three matters required dealing with people to achieve, yet dealing with people was precisely what I was worst at.

Could this be a “test”?

Facing these three difficult problems, after much thought I could only choose to tackle them one by one. But even after separating the three problems individually, I found each one very difficult to achieve and self-contradictory.

If I made people fall into despair, they would have a higher probability of obtaining “Echo,” in other words they would become strong individuals of varying degrees. They would preserve memories and awaken transcendent abilities. At that point, regardless of who they were, they would all want to seize this opportunity to collect more “Dao” and take a gamble on that infinitesimally small chance of escape.

If I then stopped them from collecting “Dao,” I wouldn’t just be facing ordinary “Participants”—I would be making enemies of “Echo” users.

Although I possessed “Seize Heart and Soul,” which could protect me at critical moments, I could only “seize hearts,” not “seize souls.” If it really came to killing, I could die at any moment.

If “Brute Strength” and “Seize Heart and Soul” were both types of “Echo,” then theoretically the people in this place could receive comprehensive enhancements to both body and mind, perhaps even supernatural enhancements. I alone, relying solely on “Seize Heart and Soul,” was no match at all.

In summary, once I blindly tried to make people despair or stop them from collecting “Dao,” I would immediately fall into a dangerous situation.

Before long I would become an infamous existence throughout the entire “Land of the End.” Being universally condemned was a minor matter; the important thing was I would fail to complete the third difficult problem—”gathering the strong.”

So how exactly should these three problems be solved?

I walked into the building behind me, found some discarded paper and pen, and wrote down all three difficult problems.

Although my abilities were limited, fortunately I had many “weapons.” As long as I selected the appropriate “weapon,” no matter how difficult the problem, I could take a gamble. What I needed to do now was clarify my thoughts—I couldn’t rush.

This was the “Gettler’s Principle”—once you clearly list out the difficulties you encounter, you’ve already solved half of them.

I believed Baiyang was someone similar to me. I continuously analyzed his psychological trajectory through his various conversations, which meant he too had analyzed my personality through my narration during the “Liar” game.

So this difficult problem might have been custom-made for me.

In other words, Baiyang knew I didn’t like dealing with people, yet still left me these three difficult problems. The first possibility was that he wanted to train my ability to deal with people. The second possibility was that he believed this matter could still be completed without dealing with people.

Zhang Qiang’s and my identities should be very important to him. He was willing to risk various dangers to incite both of us to walk these two paths, which meant if we didn’t do what we were supposed to do, it would definitely affect him.

Although I’m not an arrogant person, I knew Zhang Qiang wasn’t as strong as me, so when Baiyang spoke, he intentionally or unintentionally guided him toward the “Zodiac path,” including but not limited to what he told Zhang Qiang alone: “Those who become Zodiacs will permanently obtain Brute Strength.” This was a complete and continuous psychological suggestion. Combined with my perfectly timed indirect persuasion, it was almost as if he and I together forced Zhang Qiang onto this path.

Of the two paths Baiyang offered, “Zodiac” was simpler than “Participant,” so I believe Baiyang did this intentionally.

After analyzing my personality and evaluating my abilities, he guided me toward this “Participant” path and custom-made difficult problems for me.

But this was truly difficult.

In ten days, I participated in many games for the first time and had close contact with various “Participants.” I admit some people didn’t seem bad, but the heart is separated from the belly—I truly couldn’t regard them as people I could trust.

Every time a game ended and the “Referee” took out various “Dao” to distribute among everyone, I would fantasize about things I would never have done before.

For instance… should I use “Seize Heart and Soul” to control everyone, then snatch the “Dao” and run away?

This way they would make the same movements as me, running in the opposite direction, which meant this plan was feasible. They had no way to catch up with me, but I would face enormous risk.

Snatching once or twice, I might be safe, but what about long-term?

I had no effective solution. If I couldn’t accomplish one goal, I’d switch to another.

What if instead of snatching, I chose to “destroy” them?

After all, I didn’t need these “Dao” in the first place—I was just waiting for someone.

Holding the “Dao” in hand meant worrying about others snatching them, and might even invite deadly disaster.

Next, I finally had my first lead. To obstruct Participants while remaining absolutely safe: first, I had to find a way to destroy these “Dao”; second, I couldn’t show myself.