[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-player-reboot":3,"chapter-player-reboot-player-reboot-chapter-564":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Player Reboot",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2272529,4438,"Chapter 564","player-reboot-chapter-564",564,"\u003Cp>【EVACUATION FAILED】\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Blood-red characters appeared on the internet cafe computer screen: “EVACUATION FAILED.” College student Jia Wei suddenly let out a hollow laugh, grabbed the icy red tea on the table, its surface beaded with condensation, and gulped it down in one long swallow.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Every generation faces its destined scam: from text messages claiming “I am Qin Shi Huang,” to OFO bike deposit refunds;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>from confidently pre-ordering “Warcraft III: Remastered,” to believing this year’s LPL is finally the most promising;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>You get scammed every year, but never the same way twice.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right now, for instance, the five-character divine game running on his computer—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sour Horn Porridge Operation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The first search-strike-withdraw game for young people: you can’t find anything, you can’t fight anyone, and you can’t withdraw. The worse you play, the more rewards you get; the better you play, the harsher the punishment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The developers are even more divine: they encourage player personas, fully support escort and companion services, ignore cheaters like Gui Ge, punish teaming up, ignore economic collapse, and pretend to be dead when flooded with hundreds of thousands of abusive posts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before this came Three Kingdoms Kill; after it came Sour Horn Porridge. They’re like the Yangtze’s waves—new ones pushing the old, each one stronger than the last.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Thirty million daily active users—it’s a digital demon prison, firmly trapping all manner of gray and black industries (escorts, studios, clubs, cheats), along with the unlucky green players who don’t cheat.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jia Wei is one of those green players.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I’m such an idiot. How could I ever have believed Tengzi’s game?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Weary, he screwed the cap back on the iced tea and turned to look at the seat beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One of his dorm mates, who came to the internet cafe to form a squad, had endured an entire night of consecutive losses, getting kicked to death like stray dogs by escorts, proxies, and cheaters. He claimed he was tired, quietly quit the game, and sat on the couch scrolling through short videos on his phone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for the other squad mate—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Qiangzi, you still playing?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Yeah, why not.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Qiang, wearing a hoodie, sounded just as exhausted. If not for the massive sunk costs he’d poured into this divine game, he’d have quit long ago. “Besides, I’ve got hardly any Haf coins left. I’ll sell the expansion box, equip everything at once, and die trying.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Alright, get ready.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jia Wei’s tone was utterly flat. The in-game prices now were insane: helmets, armor, armor repairs, guns, and accessories were all astronomically expensive, with drop rates even lower.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Haha, I’m wearing a level-five armor worth its weight in golden gazelles, my head’s got experimental data, I’ve got a gold bar slung over my back, two smoothbore guns in hand, and golden bullets in my crotch worth four Rolex watches—then I’m fighting over a box of sour horn porridge that says ‘I love you, developer.’”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Qiang kept muttering complaints when suddenly his eyes widened.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Sour Horn Porridge Operation’s treasure-hunting mode requires teams of three. Since one of their dorm mates quit, logically, Jia Wei and Zhang Qiang should be matched with random strangers.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jia Wei and Zhang Qiang had chosen the Assault Leader and Second-in-Command roles, both with high-tier skins. But the random player who joined—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“WTF? What the hell?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In the corner of the matchmaking screen stood a bizarrely dressed player with the ID 【Pifú】: wearing glasses, a belt of books, and a silver slime crouched beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The craziest part? Behind him lay a giant toad occupying half the screen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is this some Immortal from Miaomu Mountain?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The two college students exchanged glances, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. All their exhaustion from the night’s losing streak vanished instantly—they were wide awake.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Qiang frantically grabbed his phone to photograph the screen. Jia Wei pressed his mic button, voice trembling with excitement and confusion: “Bro #3, what character is this? A new Naruto-themed skin for next season?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Cheng didn’t answer. He looked down at his own hands. As the environment shifted, his body was now coated in a game filter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Sour Horn Porridge Operation.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Cheng nodded thoughtfully, then calmly addressed his two random teammates: “You two should move away from the computer host.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Jia Wei instinctively asked: “Huh? Why?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It might explode.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, the top-secret aerospace map loaded. Their spawn point was in the lower-left launch zone.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Zhang Qiang nudged Jia Wei with his elbow, showing him his phone screen.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It was a streamer, giving a god-view commentary of the game map. An absurd truth: despite Sour Horn Porridge Operation’s 30 million daily active users and relentless popularity, despite its team being composed of industry elites with top-tier salaries, the dev team’s output was pathetically low.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even after so long, many features were still missing—like match replays.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But the black-market cheats, driven by profit, had built their own replay system.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If even one cheat was in the match, enabling the Radar Share feature would let the god-view website see:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>the exact locations of every exposed item on the map, every team’s ID, gear, character setup, and even the precise aiming direction of each player’s gun.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The cheat websites made replays a hundred times better than the official version—absurd beyond absurdity.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just moments ago, Zhang Qiang had privately messaged a streamer using the god-view website.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Hello, viewers! New match incoming. Wow—Top Secret Aerospace, six teams, each with at least one Magic Pill cheater. It’s the familiar Aerospace City again, full of futuristic tech vibes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The streamer, known as Hua Ge, chatted smoothly. The total illicit profits from Sour Horn Porridge Operation dwarfed any previous video game. Even the official events handed out escort vouchers and actively supported clubs and proxy services.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The gray markets of older games like DNF, Ni Shui Han, and Dream World couldn’t even compare.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This caused cheat updates to come at lightning speed, with an enormous variety of hacks.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Auto-aim, bullet tracking, Bloodhound—no need to mention those standard ones.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then there’s the Absorbing Palm Technique—kill an enemy and instantly pull their loot box right to your feet;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Flying Thunder God—teleport across the entire map;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dou Zong Strongman—use skills infinitely, flying freely through the air;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Paralysis Technique—freeze targets in place, immobile;\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Each one more insane than the last.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Compared to these, things like Treasure Mouse (only reveals items, doesn’t kill), open password rooms without passwords, or gear disappearing upon death so others can’t loot—those could almost count as green play.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Small leak isn’t leak.jpg\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Streamer Hua Ge, accustomed to the surreal chaos of Aerospace City, calmly continued: “You can see, the top half of the map is full of geniuses—hard-lock and x-ray are just baseline.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The bottom half is no different. This player named 【Pifú】 just accelerated time, sprinting from the lower-left corner straight onto the bridge. Wait—no!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Ge’s eyes snapped wide. On the god-view mini-map, ten 【African Star】 icons suddenly appeared surrounding Pifú.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>These were among the highest-tier items in all of Sour Horn Porridge. Some unlucky players had spent thousands of hours without ever getting one.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Could this be some new item duplication cheat? But duplicating African Stars? That’s too monstrous, too overpowered…”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Moments later, Hua Ge’s chat exploded with a horizontal waterfall of comments. He finally realized—he pulled out his phone and checked his private messages again.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>There it was: Zhang Qiang’s message, showing the bizarre character selection screen, along with his real-time game feed link.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He clicked it immediately. There, the player named 【Pifú】 was indeed standing atop the bridge, stepping on a giant toad, with ten glittering African Star diamonds floating beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“...Ladies and gentlemen, today I’ve finally seen a true immortal. I just wonder—what’s he doing showing ten African Stars? Testing a cheat in real time?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hua Ge sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively puzzled.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Cheats like Absorbing Palm, Flying Thunder God, Dou Zong Strongman—all basically exploited existing game code, somewhat explainable.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this giant toad? There was no such thing in the game.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Before he could react, in Zhang Qiang’s game view (he and Jia Wei were still running from spawn toward the bridge), a player in green pants suddenly flashed into Li Cheng’s side and reached for one of the diamonds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>African Stars had an extremely low drop rate—even on the hardest maps, they rarely appeared.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This green-pants player clearly possessed both Flying Thunder God and item-x-ray cheats. Seeing ten African Stars, he couldn’t resist and activated his hack to steal them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Did he succeed?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The green-pants player had already touched the African Star—the item inspection animation had even begun. But the next instant, the giant toad blinked its eyelid. A terrifying gravitational force crushed him flat on the spot, denying even the chance to fall wounded.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Li Cheng casually brushed dust off his sleeve. The ability of the Transformation Demon was assimilation and corrosion—the larger the environment, the greater its potential.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Right now, it must be hiding somewhere on this map, disguised as a player, NPC, item, or building. He needed to force it out.\u003C\u002Fp>",1505,"2026-06-19T22:31:26.010Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","3689e3c070793663513dd891381add2839d79e54e0f268af000587dc72401521","player-reboot-chapter-565","player-reboot-chapter-563",612,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fplayer-reboot-cover.jpg"]