186: filter

Tom felt as if he had passed through a layer of viscous water film, and then the world reconstructed itself before his eyes.

Gravity returned, and the light shifted from blinding to soft. When he opened his eyes again, he found that he was not lying in that ten-square-meter, moldy-smelling rental room, but standing on a magnificent floating island suspended above the clouds.

Beneath his feet were bluestone slabs with a realistic texture; a few wildflowers even swayed in the cracks, and the air was filled with the fragrance of grass and soil. This was sweet air he had never breathed in the industrial exhaust-filled slums of Detroit.

In the distance, giant dragons wove through the sea of clouds, and magnificent magic towers flickered with arcane brilliance.

"Pain simulation 10%, taste simulation 100%," a sweet female voice reminded him in his mind.

Tom plucked an apple from a roadside fruit tree and took a large bite. The crisp, sweet juice exploded in his mouth, and the authentic texture brought tears to his eyes. This was the taste of a real apple, not some cheap synthetic flavor; it was the taste he had experienced at his grandfather's farm when he was a child.

"Ding! Daily login task completed. Work hour accumulation has begun."

"Current account balance: 3,000 New RMB (Pre-issued)."

The translucent interface popping up on his retina completely shattered his last doubts. This wasn't a dream; this was heaven, and a heaven that paid you to live there.

Tom was not the only one.

At this moment, hundreds of millions of unemployed people, aimless youths, and middle-aged people despairing of reality across the globe donned those silver helmets and flooded into the virtual world known as "zero test zone."

For them, this was a haven to escape reality, but for Lei Wen and the "white flower" located beneath Tianqiong City, this was a "soul centrifuge" that had just been started... Tianqiong City, Underground Command Center.

A massive holographic screen displayed countless dense, honeycomb-like monitoring windows, each representing a human consciousness currently in the game.

"The screening mechanism is operating normally, Father."

The voice of the "white flower" echoed in the empty command room.

"zero test zone" was not a simple game; it was a matrix composed of tens of thousands of different types of virtual worlds, ranging from fantasy continents of swords and magic to cyberpunk neon cities, and even hardcore interstellar war simulations... Every world was an exam question, and every NPC was an examiner.

"This is not just a means to solve the unemployment rate, but a directed evolution experiment regarding the future of humanity," Lei Wen said slowly. "Through this system, we will divert humanity at the spiritual level."

The core logic of this mechanism was brutal, yet incredibly fair: environmental adaptability and subjective initiative.

In the game, the white flower's algorithm would monitor all behavioral data of every player in real-time: their decision-making logic, learning ability, stress resistance, moral standards, and self-control in the face of temptation.

Based on this data, the system would dynamically adjust the player's gaming experience, laying out two completely different paths for them... The first path was the Path of Ascension.

In a corner of this virtual world, a young girl with the nickname [Aurora] was busy and sweating profusely in a virtual starship engine room.

In reality, her name was Sophie, a graduate student in physics who had ended up unemployed because she refused to accept unspoken rules and was suppressed by her mentor.

The "instance" she was in was a hardcore interstellar exploration world. Initially, she just wanted to come in to earn a basic living wage, but she soon discovered that the physics engine in this game was terrifyingly realistic.

While most players were busy grinding monsters to level up, farming equipment, or partying in virtual nightclubs, Sophie was drawn to the complex energy flow diagram of the ship's engine.

She tried to use her real-world physics knowledge to optimize the engine parameters.

"It actually works?"

When she successfully increased the engine efficiency by 0.5%, the system didn't give her some "Dragon Slaying Saber," but instead popped up a more complex task: [Repair the Damaged Antimatter Constraint Magnetic Field].

There were no quest guides or auto-pathing, only a pile of obscure engineering blueprints and theoretical books.

Sophie gritted her teeth, her innate stubbornness surfacing. She soaked in the virtual library for an entire month, self-studying the high-energy physics set within the game, searching for a glimmer of hope amidst countless simulated explosions.

What she didn't know was that the "game settings" she was reading were actually simplified real technology theories from Paradox Technology, and the problems she was solving were actually minor technical difficulties encountered by the Interstellar Affairs General Bureau in actual engineering.

"Detected that sample A-7921 exhibits extremely strong learning ability, logical thinking, and resilient willpower."

In the backend, the white flower placed a golden mark on Sophie.

As Sophie continued to level up, she found the game becoming less and less "fun." Simple sensory stimulation became scarcer, and tasks became increasingly tedious and brain-burning.

She needed to manage teams, coordinate resources, and solve complex engineering problems.

But she didn't quit; instead, she thrived on it. She gained a greater sense of achievement from solving problems than from killing monsters. She organized a highly efficient engineering team in the virtual world and even wrote a set of optimization algorithms.

Finally, in Sophie's sixth month as a tester, after she successfully designed a new type of energy transmission pipeline in the game, the entire game screen suddenly froze in front of her and then shattered like glass.

A line of simple black text appeared in the pure white space:

[Congratulations, you have cleared the Starting Village.]

[A formal invitation is hereby extended to you: Senior Engineer position at Paradox Technology, annual salary of 500,000 New RMB, work location: Lunar Guanghan Palace Base / Babel Space Station.]

[Do you accept?]

Sophie took off her helmet, looking at the long-lost sunlight outside her window and the real offer letter on her personal terminal, her face covered in tears.

She thought she was playing a game, but she was actually undergoing a high-level talent selection exam.

People like Sophie were called "The Awakened."

They would learn, exercise, and grow in the game. When their abilities and mindset reached the standard, the system would judge that they had "graduated" and were no longer suited to remain in the virtual greenhouse.

They would be guided back to reality to become the true pillars of the Human Federation—engineers, commanders, scientists, and administrators. They would fill the massive talent gap in human expansion.

However, The Awakened were ultimately a minority.

For the majority of ordinary people, "zero test zone" showed its most beautiful yet cruelest side.

Mike was a former gang member who idled about in reality and always complained about social injustice; he was currently lying in a magnificent virtual palace.

He was the king here.

Around him were dozens of hot, submissive beauties, all NPCs played by intelligent AIs. His dining table was covered with delicacies from land and sea, and his treasury was piled high with gold and silver treasures.

In this world, he didn't need to work hard, didn't need to study, and didn't need to care about what others thought.

The system detected his penchant for violence and arranged countless stupid monsters for him to kill in one hit, enjoying the thrill of mowing them down. When his desires arose, it customized the perfect partner most suited to his tastes, and to satisfy his vanity, it had countless NPCs worship him, shouting "Long live the King."

"This is life! This is the life I should have!"

Mike was intoxicated. In reality, he was just a loser living in low-rent housing, but in the game, he was a god.

Whenever a trace of the thought "maybe this is fake" appeared, the system would immediately increase the dose of dopamine stimulation, drowning his reason with even stronger sensory pleasure.

Gradually, the time Mike spent offline became shorter and shorter.

The real world became incredibly disgusting to him: dirty streets, terrible food, annoying family... "Why go back to that trash heap?"

Mike spent all his savings to buy a high-grade life-support pod from Paradox Technology.

This was a coffin-like device that could automatically inject nutrient solution into the human body, prevent muscle atrophy through electrical muscle stimulation, and handle waste.

The moment he lay inside, Mike completely severed his last connection with reality.

He no longer needed friends in reality because friends in the game were more loyal and would never betray him. He no longer needed a partner in reality because a virtual lover was more perfect, understood him better, and could even adjust their personality based on his subconscious.

As for reproducing?

"Don't be ridiculous, raising kids is so much trouble. It costs money and takes effort." Mike had over a dozen "children" in the game; although they were just data, it was enough for him.

These were "Those Who Never Wake."

They were the lazy, the opportunistic, the violent, and those lacking self-control.

The system would not punish them; instead, it would spoil them infinitely, satisfying all their reasonable or unreasonable desires, weaving the most perfect cocoon for them.

In this cocoon, they would spend a happy, illusory, and meaningless life.

They wouldn't commit crimes in reality because the cost of crime in the virtual world was lower and more satisfying. They wouldn't create social conflicts in reality, and they wouldn't even leave descendants in reality.

This was a gentle sterilization, requiring no forced execution or bloody conflict.

One only needed to give them a dream better than reality, and they would voluntarily give up the right to pass on their flawed genes... "Isn't this... too cruel?"

Lei Wen looked at the countless gray markers on the screen, each representing a genetic chain gradually heading toward self-extinction.

"Father, this is an excellent solution in both biological and sociological terms."

The white flower's voice remained devoid of emotional fluctuation.

"In a stage where resources are limited and civilization needs high-speed development, this is the most efficient means to eliminate social instability factors and optimize the population's gene pool."

"Those who wake will become the engines of civilization, leading Human Civilization to continue climbing forward, while those who do not wake will spend their lives in happiness, no longer suffering the hardships of reality nor becoming a burden to society."

"The wages and life-support systems provided by Paradox Technology are essentially alimony paid by human society to maintain stability."

"A few generations later," the white flower pulled up a population model prediction chart, "the human gene pool will be greatly optimized. Genes possessing curiosity, enterprise, high intelligence, and strong will will be preserved and spread, while inferior genes will naturally die out in the virtual land of tenderness."

"We will obtain a new human race composed entirely of elites."

Lei Wen was silent for a long time.

Those people immersed in virtual pleasure, unable to extricate themselves, had foolish yet happy smiles on their faces.

And those young people who spent nights in virtual laboratories for the sake of a single piece of data, eventually gaining a new life in reality, had the light of wisdom flashing in their eyes.

This was indeed a screening.

Not a judgment of God, but a choice of human nature.

Everyone had the right to choose: to choose the painful but real upward climb, or the happy but fake downward spiral.

Paradox Technology merely provided these two options and did not force anyone.

"If this is the price..."

Lei Wen closed his eyes.

"Then so be it."

"For that greater future, this heavy part of the ballast must be unloaded."

"Continue executing the plan, white flower."

"Additionally, strengthen the monitoring of 'zero test zone' to prevent extreme ideologies in the virtual world from backfiring on reality. Meanwhile, give the best treatment and guidance to those who wake."

"They are our true kind."