My avatar is becoming the final boss

Chapter 1 Talking in Sleep
"Restricted-level psychic, number 1002 - 'Ji Minghuan', instructor is visiting. Prepare for interrogation as soon as possible."

From the ceiling, a cold, hard command boomed from a speaker-like broadcasting device, breaking the deathly silence that had long enveloped the cell. Rows of incandescent white light bulbs lit up, their cool glow spreading flatly across every corner of the room.

A series of extremely aggressive movements were like a sudden rainstorm, crashing into an uninhabited lake, stirring up the fish swimming at the bottom of the lake.

Ji Minghuan, lying on his side like a fish on the plain white and thin bed, woke up from his sleep.

He slowly turned over, his thin face facing the ceiling.

The young man in the hospital gown had his eyelids trembling slightly, as if the light coming towards him was too dazzling.

His bloodless lips opened slightly and he yawned. Then, like a machine executing a set program, he raised his hand stiffly and slowly and rubbed his temple.

"I'd rather die……"

He murmured softly to himself and sighed wearily. His right hand, which had been kneading the bridge of his nose, slowly dropped back to the pillow, drooping on the bed like a kite with a broken string.

He lay there languidly for a while, motionless like a corpse. It wasn't until the annoying sound of footsteps reached his ears that he finally ended his less than five-second nap and suddenly opened his heavy eyelids.

blink.

The dilated pupils contracted under the stimulation of the cold light, and the retina completed focus in an instant.

Raising his clear eyes, the young man in hospital gown stared motionlessly at the familiar silver-white ceiling.

Ji Minghuan was distracted by the surveillance camera under the ceiling.

His face was expressionless, as if he hadn't woken up yet. As he listened to the approaching footsteps, his nose twitched slightly.

Perhaps it was because his sense of smell was unusually sharp, like that of a small animal, so his first impression of a person was their scent, followed by other aspects. Honestly, he didn't really like the astringent, disinfectant-like scent of his "mentor," which struck him as somewhat artificial. It also reminded him of the doctors at the orphanage who regularly administered immune serum injections to the children. They always wore masks, revealing only their cold brows and noses, and held syringes in their hands, giving him a sense of alienation.

After confirming the visitor by smelling the odor, Ji Minghuan turned his head from the pillow and glanced at the entrance of the prison cell.

As he watched, isolation doors made of an unknown metal material opened one after another to the sides. At the end of the corridor, a man with slicked-back hair and a white coat appeared as expected. He entered, reeking of disinfectant.

The steps were light and slow, but the sound of footsteps still echoed clearly in the prison cell.

Ji Minghuan leaned against the headboard, sat up silently, and lifted the quilt covering his legs.

After a while, the man finally walked through the heavily opened electronic door and stepped into the prison cell.

"Good evening, Teacher... Is it that you always have to come when I'm sound asleep?"

Ji Minghuan greeted the man while glancing sideways. His tone was casual, as if he was greeting an old friend.

What was reflected in his eyes was not a fake person as distant and indifferent as disinfectant, but on the contrary, it was a warm face. It is no exaggeration to say that this face can completely replace all the characters who symbolize intellect and justice in TV dramas: either a smart and gentle elder, or a wise man who is good at seeing into people's hearts.

But this did not affect Ji Minghuan's dislike for him.

If it were in the past, that is, when Ji Minghuan was still in the welfare home, whenever he met someone he disliked, he would make full use of the special identity of being a "fatherless and motherless little brat", making unreasonable demands and throwing a tantrum, so that he could get away from the other person as he wished.

However, this approach also had its drawbacks: the director would lock him up in the library's attic—a place the children in the orphanage knew as "confinement," a terrifying place, especially in the dead of night. But Ji Minghuan didn't mind. Even spending the night alone in the attic wasn't a problem, so he always managed to infuriate the director.

But now it is clear that he is still a "little kid without father or mother". He has just changed the place, but he can no longer rely on this identity to use the same tricks.

The reason was obvious: Ji Minghuan had been imprisoned in this strange, iron-box-like place. His every word and action had been monitored for days. With no windows, only vents, he couldn't see the sky, couldn't distinguish day from night. With the lights off, the surveillance box on the ceiling looked like a demon's eye, sending a chill down his spine.

The key is, why is he imprisoned here?
In fact, even Ji Minghuan, the person involved, couldn't figure it out; it was simply inconceivable. Every night, he would lie in bed, his arms propped behind his head, staring at the dark ceiling and carefully recalling the whole process:

About a month ago, he was in an orphanage in Lijing, the Chinese capital. One night, he slept in the orphanage's dormitory and awoke to find himself in this cell. Shockingly, he was completely unconscious during the transfer, as if he had been transported instantly. Of course, the possibility of drugging him couldn't be ruled out.

Then, he learned some not-so-good news from the voices coming from the broadcasting equipment on the ceiling: this damn place was an experiment laboratory.

And Ji Minghuan... is their research subject.

That's right, the research subject. They repeatedly emphasized that Ji Minghuan was a restricted-level psychic, standing at the pinnacle of the rating sequence established by the United Nations, with unspeakable potential within him. Some even predicted that he would destroy the world.

So they hoped that Ji Minghuan would cooperate with their research, and threatened that if he did not cooperate, his fate would be self-evident.

But Ji Minghuan had no idea what was going on. When he first arrived, he defended himself with a helpless look on his face: Since I am a person with special abilities, or what you call the most dangerous rating sequence, how could I not know it myself?

No one paid any attention to his rebuttal.

Every time they questioned him, he could only hold his chin up, roll his eyes, and tell them that he had some weird powers. He was just a common Muggle, as rare as a dirty stray dog, and you could find him in droves. Are you sure you didn't find the wrong person? There weren't many people with the surname Ji in China, but what if there really was someone with the same name as me?

Unfortunately, the experimenters were unwilling to believe his words, thinking that they were just meaningless excuses, and their attitude was quite cold and harsh.

At this point, what else can Ji Minghuan do?

All he could do was to accept his fate, lying on this hard bed like a mummy every day. When he woke up, he would hold his cheek and stare at the hard ceiling in a daze.

This shabby place didn't even have a TV. When he was bored, he could only draw circles on the ground with his fingers, trying to let his imagination run wild. But staying in this tin box, he felt as if his imagination was also restrained. His brain was like a broken music box, clicking and unable to move, but the tinnitus never stopped.

It was difficult to even breathe here. Whether he yelled at the monitor above his head or rolled around on the overly clean floor, no one would pay any attention. But if he engaged in self-harm, the collar around his neck would emit an electric current, paralyzing his entire body, and then inject a sedative into his neck to make him fall asleep quickly.

After all this, Ji Minghuan had completely given up trying. Anyone with claustrophobia would go crazy if they stayed here. Even a normal person would likely develop schizophrenia if they stayed here for too long.

From then on, whenever the "mentor" and "officer" came to visit, it was the only time Ji Minghuan could communicate with others in this iron box. He found joy in the midst of hardship and did not resent their presence in his heart.

Speaking of these two people, Ji Minghuan sincerely thought that their performance was very interesting.

The reason why the "mentor" is called a mentor is because he claims to be here to teach Ji Minghuan how to control his supernatural powers. He seems to be a good person, gentle and tolerant, and he guides people step by step;

The "officer" lived up to his name, wearing a military uniform and looking stern and mean. He looked like a bad guy, violent and gloomy. He often took corporal punishment measures against Ji Minghuan and scolded him harshly at every turn.

The two of them play the good cop and the bad cop, and their personalities contrast with each other. Their method can be described as "whip and sugar" - whether it is training a dog or a child, this set of procedures is very effective.

Fortunately, Ji Minghuan was different from ordinary children. He knew what tricks these two people were playing, so he was not wary of the violent and aggressive officer, but the mentor in front of him who seemed kind but was actually dangerous.

He understood this truth: this mentor was the one who was there to tame him, and the officer was just a guy playing the villain. After realizing that the officer in the German uniform was just being mean for the sake of being mean, Ji Minghuan's meanness lost its original offensiveness.

When the officer angrily scolded him, the instructor would often pretend to be embarrassed in the background, nodding slightly and pushing his glasses up to look as if he couldn't bear to watch.

Ji Minghuan naturally saw this scene. After all, this was what the other party wanted him to see.

He scoffed at this but kept his composure.

What's funny is that when the mentor met with him, he didn't directly use words to belittle the officer or denounce his behavior, perhaps because he thought that doing so would seem more or less false and deliberate.

Even when meeting with Ji Minghuan alone, the instructor would defend the officer: "That's just his personality. We all dislike the way he does things. We all think he's too rude and careless. Don't take it to heart. We're actually doing this for your own good. If you can quickly understand the dangers of your abilities and cooperate with us, there will be much less trouble down the road."

Ji Minghuan simply held his chin and nodded absentmindedly, still not taking it seriously. He knew full well that whether these people played the good cop or the bad cop, it made no difference: they were just bad guys who had locked up a child in a laboratory for over two weeks without a word.

In short, whether it was day or night, this prison cell once again welcomed the visit of the mentor.

The tall and thin man in a white coat pulled a chair and sat down at the table not far from the bed. He adjusted his glasses on his nose and looked up at Ji Minghuan.

He said, "I'm sorry to interrupt your rest time."

"It's okay. You're always like this anyway. Next time you come, you'll be the same as always, without even saying hello."

Ji Minghuan shrugged, made some teasing remarks, and got out of bed.

He walked barefoot on the cold floor, dragging his thin body to the table, then pulled a chair and sat down across from his mentor. With his right hand supporting his chin and his elbow resting on the table, he said nonchalantly, "Well...why not just tell me what you want to talk to me about?"

"Let me make it short. I've been asking the orphanage you stayed at a while ago about some things," the instructor said. "They all said that when you were a kid, you liked to lock yourself up and wrap yourself in rolls of paper towels. That's why the kids at the orphanage called you 'freak.' Is that true?"

"Ah... is that true? Anyway, I can't remember it clearly."

Ji Minghuan tilted his head slightly, muttering to himself as he recalled the past. After a while, he raised his head, stared at his mentor with a sullen look, and asked in a strange tone, "Even if what you said is true, mentor, don't you think it's normal for people to be silly when they are young?"

"That's true." The instructor smiled. "I heard from the nurses that when you were in the orphanage, you liked to sneak into the computer room to play games?"

"This is true."

"What's your favorite type of game?"

"Let me think... What Remains of Edith Finch? Or Wasted City?"

The instructor shook his head.

"What a shame, I haven't even heard of it."

"Oh, that's a shame," Ji Minghuan replied nonchalantly, his eyelids drooping. He raised his finger and tapped the table, his gaze shifting from the ceiling surveillance camera to his mentor's face. Then he asked, "Speaking of which, since you insist I have superpowers, what are they? Are they really as powerful as you say?"

"According to our tests, you're likely a 'reality-affecting' psychic, which is also the most dangerous category in our assessment system." The instructor paused. "By the way, since you said you like playing games, your abilities are likely to appear in a form related to 'games.'" "Why?"

Ji Minghuan raised his eyebrows and looked up, seeming to be slightly interested.

Seeing the child's wandering gaze finally settle on his face, the instructor couldn't help but chuckle, thinking it was quite amusing, and kept the child in suspense for a while. Only when Ji Minghuan's eyes began to show impatience did he lift his fingers, tapping the table, and begin a detailed explanation.

"Any form of superpower will help the superpower holder to understand it."

"For example, let's say a person with superpowers was a fashionable, trend-forward woman before awakening. Then, one night, she might suddenly dream of a giant LED billboard displaying rotating images showcasing the 'selling points' of her superpowers and how to use them."

Having said that, the instructor clasped his fingers together and looked up to meet Ji Minghuan's gaze.

"As for you... since you like playing video games, your ability will most likely appear in this form—it will be presented as a game level to test and guide you, helping you clearly understand how to use this ability."

"Game levels..." Ji Minghuan thought thoughtfully.

He looked up at his mentor and asked in confusion, "Why do I feel as if you're talking about superpowers having their own minds and being able to help the user adapt to their existence?"

The instructor shook his head, then raised his hand to adjust the glasses frame on his nose.

He said, "I was originally tempted to deny this theory, but perhaps, as you say, superpowers possess their own will. After all, this is something beyond the scope of science. Throughout history, many people in the West have viewed those with superpowers as God's people and their abilities as miracles. They believe that superpowers embody God's will, and that those whose superpowers go out of control have angered God and been punished, forcing them to sink into madness."

"I see." Ji Minghuan seemed to understand but not quite.

After a moment's thought, he added, "Come to think of it, besides computer games, I also like playing cards. It's really the only fun thing to do in the orphanage, but it's still better than this hellhole."

"then you……"

"Then one day I might dream of a deck of cards, with each card indicating how to use my special powers?" Ji Minghuan interrupted him and asked first.

"Yes."

The tutor picked up the thermos on the table and took a sip of the warm tea in the cup.

As he screwed the lid on, he looked at the boy across the table and asked with a smile in his eyes, "Why are you suddenly interested in superpowers?"

"After all, I'm quite free," Ji Minghuan sneered. "Or rather... you haven't even given me the right to have fun. What else can I do here besides facing the wall and reflecting on my mistakes? I'm almost bored to death, okay?"

"Sorry. Actually, we had no choice."

There was apology in the instructor's voice.

He smiled and looked at Ji Minghuan silently for a while, then slowly said, "By the way, that deaf-mute girl who came with you before... She's actually an albinist, which is quite rare."

As he spoke, he restrained his expression and asked tentatively, "Do you want to know how she's doing?"

Hearing this, Ji Minghuan's gaze suddenly paused, and his eyes fixed on the table for a few seconds.

The thin body wrapped in a hospital gown was motionless, frozen in the chair like a statue, or like a pale paper cutting from an album.

After a moment, he opened his mouth and the corners of his lips moved silently.

"she……"

Because he had been locked up in here for too long and had never had his hair cut, he lowered his head and his eyes were covered by his drooping hair.

He didn't know why, but he seemed to have trouble hearing... the sound in the prison cell, whether it came from his own throat.

"Ok?"

The mentor looked up from behind his glasses and gave him a confused look.

"She has a name." After a long silence, Ji Minghuan spoke, his voice still low.

"What did you say? I didn't hear clearly."

"She's not called the deaf-mute girl. 'Kong Youling', that's her name, I hope you can remember it."

"Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying attention to myself just now..."

"Is she okay?" Ji Minghuan interrupted him.

"She also..."

The instructor smiled warmly. He looked up and was about to answer, but he froze in his tracks mid-sentence. At that moment, he met Ji Minghuan's gaze.

The young man across the table nodded slightly, his shoulders drooping, his hands hidden beneath the table like severed reeds. His face was expressionless, but his dark pupils were terrifyingly hollow, like a predatory creature in a deep ravine, choosing its prey.

After a moment, the instructor recovered from her shock and tilted her head to avoid his gaze, saying, "She's currently safe. Although our people have identified her as a rare psychic, objectively speaking, her danger level is far less than yours, so she has relatively more freedom. Her movements are not restricted as much."

Having said this, the instructor paused for a moment and once again met Ji Minghuan's gaze. He asked in a low voice:
"Do you want to meet her?"

"When?"

"Tomorrow. I'll bring her here to see you."

"You didn't lie to me?"

"No," the mentor shook his head and calmly denied, "I have no reason to lie to you. You and she are both very good children. I will try my best to arrange an opportunity for you to meet."

But after these seemingly sincere words fell, what responded to him was deathly silence.

Seeing that the other party was still silent, the tutor picked up the thermos and said, "In short... let's end our conversation here today. Go to bed early." As he said that, he stood up from the chair, turned and walked towards the exit.

"Goodbye, mentor."

Just as he was saying goodbye to the other party, Ji Minghuan suddenly raised his eyes and called him.

"Wait... I have another question."

The footsteps stopped abruptly, and the hem of the instructor's white coat had already brushed the metal threshold.

He stopped where he was, half turning sideways.

"what is the problem?"

"When can I leave here?" Ji Minghuan added in a low voice, "I... want to go back to the welfare home."

The instructor didn't answer immediately, but stood there with his hands clasped behind his back. After a moment's silence, he raised his hand to adjust his glasses, his usual smile on his face.

"If you behave like a good kid and cooperate with us, then maybe... you can leave when you grow up."

Finally, he gave this vague response and left without looking back.

Ji Minghuan sat on the chair expressionlessly, quietly watching his mentor's back as he walked away.

He knew in his heart that he would most likely never be able to leave this laboratory, or... by the time he was qualified to "leave" here, he would have become a corpse unable to open his eyes.

As the clattering footsteps faded away, the instructor's figure was soon hidden by the closing metal door. Then, the lights in the "bedroom" went out one by one—if this iron box could be called a bedroom.

Naturally, Ji Minghuan fell into boredom again and had to stand up from his chair.

It was pitch black all around, and he couldn't see his hand in front of him. Fortunately, he had already memorized every detail of the prison cell, so he walked silently to the bed, turned around, stretched out his arms, kept a spread-eagle posture, leaned back, and collapsed on the bed listlessly.

He was too lazy to even put on the quilt and just closed his eyes. Surprisingly... Ji Minghuan did not feel lost, but had already gotten used to it.

The silent prison cell, the cold and reflective surveillance camera, the instructive mentor and the moody officer made up Ji Minghuan's life for the past month.

In the darkness, the consciousness of the boy in the hospital gown gradually became blurred, as if he was sinking into an unknown dimension.

A sudden feeling of weightlessness enveloped my whole body, as if I were falling rapidly from the rooftop of a high-rise building. The glass curtain wall was dyed yellow by the afterglow of the setting sun, reflecting my distorted figure falling at high speed. The next moment, it seemed as if I had fallen into the icy sea of ​​Siberia. A lonely moon hung high in the sky, and in the moonlight, the shadow of a cod was swimming slowly under the ice.

In the end, all that was left was an unconscious blue, so cold that it made people's hearts palpitate and lose all consciousness.

He fell asleep.

【Welcome, our number one player. 】

[The "Infinite Split Game" has been loaded. Next, you will enter the "Game Character" creation stage.]

This was the last sound he heard.

(End of this chapter)