113: Chapter 113 Reactions from All Sectors (Part 2)
If Lin Lu's confusion was merely a microcosm of those outside the circle, then in the real lives of countless ordinary people crushed by the FGO finale, the aftershocks of this emotion were triggering an unimaginable social-level tsunami.
Early the next morning.
On the morning peak of Magic City's Subway Line 1, a bizarre "red-eye phenomenon" appeared among the crowded commuters.
Every few meters, you could see someone with swollen red eyes and a dazed expression.
Some were white-collar workers in suits, some were college students with backpacks, and there were even middle-aged uncles who usually looked like they had nothing to do with the word "gaming."
An auntie holding a cup of soy milk looked at a tall, sturdy young man nearby who was silently shedding tears while scrolling through his phone. Unable to contain her curiosity, she carefully handed him a tissue.
"Young man, are you... going through a breakup?"
The young man took the tissue, sniffled, and shook his head with a raspy voice: "No... it's Dr. Roman... Dr. Roman isn't coming back..."
"Dr. Roman?"
The auntie froze, her expression changing instantly. "Oh my! Which hospital's chief physician died on the operating table? What a tragedy! Such a good person, why hasn't it been on the news?"
The young man didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the auntie's misunderstanding, but the bitterness in his heart deepened.
"Auntie, he's not a doctor in real life... He's a game character—a fool who erased even the traces of his own existence just to save humanity."
Hearing it was a "game character," the auntie was about to curl her lip and say, "Young people today, over a stupid game... is it really worth it?"
But when she saw a dozen people in the carriage simultaneously look up and sigh silently with red eyes at the mention of "Dr. Roman," the words died in her throat.
She was bewildered: What kind of divine game is this? How can it make so many sound-minded adults collectively mourn for a piece of data on the subway first thing in the morning?!
This shock occurred not only in the subways but also among conservative elders who had previously looked down on electronic games.
Old Zhao, a fifty-five-year-old dean of a key high school in Su Province, was a typical "anti-game Vanguard."
In his eyes, all games were harmful "electronic heroin" and spiritual trash poisoning the youth.
At three o'clock last night, Old Zhao got up for a drink of water and suddenly heard suppressed sobbing coming from his daughter's room.
Startled and thinking something had happened to her, Old Zhao kicked the door open.
He found his daughter, who had always been an excellent student, wearing a VR headset and kneeling on the floor, crying uncontrollably.
"Zhao Xiaoya! It's the middle of the night, and you're playing this harmful trash game instead of sleeping?!"
Fuming with rage, Old Zhao rushed over and ripped the headset off his daughter.
"Dad... give it back... the Doctor..." Zhao Xiaoya cried, her face covered in tears.
"What bullshit doctor! I'll see for myself what kind of electronic drug has brainwashed you like this!"
Holding his thermos, Old Zhao angrily projected the VR game content onto the computer monitor, intending to criticize its low quality on the spot and write an eight-thousand-word condemnation to the Education Bureau.
However, when the screen lit up...
What Old Zhao saw was not some scantily clad, seductive character, nor was it a bloody or violent hack-and-slash scene.
He saw the long story recording playback his daughter had saved.
In the footage, a man in a white coat, looking incredibly ordinary, was smiling as he dissolved into light dust that scattered across the sky.
"With a limited life, facing an existence of death and severance. Knowing that an end will come, yet ceaselessly repeating an existence of partings and encounters."
"...A journey as fleeting as a momentary star, yet brilliant and magnificent."
"This is a story of love and hope."
...
Old Zhao's raised hand froze in mid-air. As a senior teacher who had taught Chinese for thirty years and read countless masterpieces, his sensitivity to words and emotions far exceeded that of ordinary people.
The recording continued to play.
He saw the ruins of the crumbling Temple of Time; he saw the blood-soaked King of Humans Goetia using the last ounce of his life's strength to raise his sword against tiny humans, posing the ultimate inquiry.
"Now, I am born; now, I am destroyed."
"Such a brief, yet so dearly beloved time—that is the true life granted to this existence that calls itself Goetia."
"...Life, as it turns out, is unnaturally short, yet incredibly interesting."
...
Watching the relieved smile of King of Humans Goetia as he dissolved into golden light, seeing the resolve of the king named Solomon returning the Ten Rings for the sake of humanity, and witnessing the tragic heroism of the girl named Mash turning to ash under hundreds of millions of degrees while holding her shield...
Silence. A deathly silence.
After a full minute, Old Zhao silently set down his thermos.
He didn't scold his daughter again; instead, he gently pulled out a tissue for her.
"Xiaoya..."
Old Zhao's voice was a bit dry. "This game... who wrote the script?"
"It's Gu Yi... that old bastard!" his daughter replied, sobbing.
Old Zhao sighed and looked at the clear blue sky on the screen with a complex gaze, saying no more.
...
In just one morning, the social craze triggered by the FGO finale had swept through every corner of the Blue Star like a nuclear explosion.
The top ten trending searches on all major platforms across the internet were completely dominated by a single game.
#WhoIsDrRoman #MashsResurrection #TheFallOfKingOfHumansGoetia #WhatIsTheNinthArt
At the same time, the entire game industry of Blue Star experienced an unprecedented super earthquake.
Countless top game producers, planners, and executives were pulled into meetings overnight. They stared at the statistics showing tens of millions of players charging forward together and weeping for a virtual character, feeling a deep sense of helplessness and trepidation.
With a finale that could be called a miracle, Gu Yi not only harvested the tears of all humanity but also carved out a new era in Blue Star's gaming history known as the "ninth art"!
Even the domestic top official media, China Culture Daily, which had always been extremely harsh toward the electronic game industry, broke precedent in its midday front-page commentary that day, dedicating an entire page to give the game unprecedentedly high praise:
"The conclusion of FGO: Grand Temple of Time is not only a miracle in China's gaming history but also a milestone in the history of world culture. Gu Yi, with his brilliant script structure and mechanics that perfectly integrate with the plot, has shattered the long-standing social stereotype that 'electronic games are merely entertainment and pastime.'
In this game, we see a grand epic spanning three thousand years, the tragic heroism of ordinary people like ants trying to shake a tree when facing gods, and the ultimate philosophical contemplation that 'because life is limited, it is incomparably brilliant.'
When twenty million people shed tears for a virtual doctor character, when virtual data can truly carry profound discussions about life and death, sacrifice, love, and hope, and trigger empathy across national borders for all humanity...
It is no longer a mere plaything; it is the well-deserved—ninth art!"
The gaming circles in China and across the entire Blue Star were in a total frenzy.
Countless players flooded the forums and walked through reality with red eyes, forever remembering that Grand Temple of Time and that unforgettable clear blue sky!