Run the Plot Ch.60

Chapter 60: IF Ending • Original World (Extra 2)

God-tier ID: “Q” Returns…

Recently, a major piece of news exploded across the gaming community:

——The player known as “Q”, who had vanished for two months, is back.

“Q” isn’t just a username — it’s practically a symbol.

No matter the genre of game — from massive holo-simulation, wilderness survival, and live-action CS, down to role-playing, business simulation… even pixel-based text puzzle games — Q’s mark can be found everywhere.

A legendary god-level game reviewer.

Every time, after setting new high scores across countless games, Q would quietly disappear and move on to another title — leaving behind swarms of adoring fans… and players gnashing their teeth in frustration.

——

And now, on the largest gaming forum, a post has blown up:

[“Q” IS ONLINE!!!]

“Holy crap! It’s real — three minutes ago!”

“No updates for two months, I thought Q had retired or something happened.”

“Wasn’t that the rumor? People said he burned out from overwork, health declining. He hadn’t joined any offline events for half a year before disappearing.”

A moment later, another headline pops up:

[Breaking! On the official CSl.B Holographic Game site — Q registered for the newest season right at the last possible second!]

“No way!!!”

“I already bet everything on another team — can’t change it now!! [crying emoji]”

“Even bigger news! Check the team info — Q’s competing with a partner this time, a two-person team!”

…

Discussion threads across every major platform were on fire.

Meanwhile, in a high-rise apartment in downtown C City,

A young man sat on the sofa, dressed in comfortable linen-cotton loungewear, his sleeves loosely rolled to the elbows.

Before him stood a tall man, his muscular frame defined beneath a sleeveless shirt.

Yan Chuanbai leaned down, pressing close against him. Tilting his head, he brushed a kiss against Qi He’s ear.

“…Your clothes,” he murmured, voice low and warm, “are a bit small for me.”

His breath was hot, teasing in the quiet of the night.

Qi He drew in a light breath, his fingers brushing against the man’s cheek as he pushed him away. “You just got here—don’t be indecent.”

Yan Chuanbai gave a small, wicked laugh, nipped lightly at his ear, then straightened up and sat back down on the sofa beside him.

“The system’s already sorted out your identity.”

The glow from the screen reflected in Qi He’s eyes as he lowered his head, registering Yan Chuanbai’s information on his phone.

——He hadn’t expected that they’d really be able to come back.

The apocalypse had ended thirty years after it began.

The planet, with its fierce and tenacious vitality, had finally completed its own purification. Yan Chuanbai had succeeded to the rank of general and established a new governing order.

Qi He himself had founded the highest-level military academy, serving as its principal and training the next generation of soldiers.

The two of them worked side by side all the way until retirement.

When old age came, Qi He began to wonder—was there a way to return to his original world?

After the apocalypse ended, energy cores had stopped forming. Within five years, the entire country had reverted to its previous energy systems, leaving the massive core from the Source unused. Faced with the problem of how to handle its immense stored power, Qi He decided to let the system absorb it.

If there was a path that could bring him there, then there had to be a way back.

Before, they had lacked energy; now, with an abundant supply and no longer bound by world laws, he had actually succeeded in bringing Yan Chuanbai back with him—

Back to the same point in time two months after his first transmigration.

“…Feels like my body’s recovered a bit.”

Qi He set down his phone and extended his hand.

His long, well-defined fingers bore traces of the strength from his past body—one honed through regular training, lean and athletic. His death had only been from overwork and exhaustion.

“The foundation’s still there,” he said quietly.

Another hand slid into his, fingers interlacing.

Yan Chuanbai’s body, too, had returned to the same point in time as when Qi He first transmigrated—thirty years old, young, vigorous, and full of strength.

Their fingers locked together. Yan Chuanbai lowered his lashes, thumb brushing lightly over Qi He’s hand. “You’re not allowed to stay up late anymore. Whatever needs doing—leave it to me.” His fingers moved lazily for a while, then his gaze drifted over Qi He’s body, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “So this was your profession…”

“When you told me back then that your physical fitness was about the same as mine, I kept wondering what kind of work you did.”

“?”

It had been so many years that Qi He had to think for quite a while but still couldn’t remember ever saying that.

Their fingers tightened together. “You really don’t remember?”

Danger flickered in Yan Chuanbai’s eyes as he leaned down again, gathering Qi He into his arms. His lips trailed from Qi He’s ear to his mouth, the kiss edged with dissatisfaction and possessiveness.

“…I remember every word you’ve ever said.”

Qi He tilted his head back, gripping Yan Chuanbai’s arm. “Don’t start—there are only three days left before the competition.”

This body of his was still so young, too unaccustomed. Without any ability-enhancement, he probably couldn’t withstand Yan Chuanbai’s full intensity…

Yan Chuanbai buried his face in the crook of Qi He’s neck, clearly restraining himself. Two youthful bodies—it was, for them, a kind of second spring. His fingers slipped under Qi He’s shirt, tracing the line of his back with reluctant affection. The movements weren’t forceful, but they lingered—clingy, persistent.

Qi He held on to his composure at the edge of wavering.

He looked up at the blurred ceiling, thinking for two seconds before finding a way to break the tension. One hand gently pinched Yan Chuanbai’s ear; lowering his head, his voice softened.

“But there’s one thing I still remember…”

“I told you that when the apocalypse ended, I’d take you back to my old home. And now—didn’t I keep that promise?”

The body before him gave a faint, trembling shiver.

A rush of emotion surged through Yan Chuanbai. After two seconds, the hand resting on Qi He’s back slowly lowered. He pressed his forehead against Qi He’s shoulder and let out a soft sigh.

He knew perfectly well that those words were, at least in part, a tactic to defuse the moment—but the sincerity hidden within them still drew him in, impossible to resist.

He kissed the side of Qi He’s neck once, then murmured, conceding, “Then we’ll talk about it after the competition.”

—

Three days later, the new season of CSl.B officially began.

“CSl.B” was the largest holographic game in the country.

A massive panoramic arena that perfectly simulated players’ real physical data—not only featuring a wide array of traditional weapons, but also including surreal “skills” that added unpredictability and diversity to every match.

The ever-shifting environments ranged from jungles and palaces to modern cities, underground tunnels, and even aerial battlegrounds…

Every season drew in countless spectators, both from within the gaming community and beyond.

In previous years, the reigning champion had always been “Q.”

This year, however, Q had shown no signs of registering. Just when everyone assumed he wouldn’t appear again, his ID suddenly popped up on the registration list—at the very last possible moment.

And for the first time ever, he had a teammate: “Y.”

As the contestants entered the arena, the barrage of comments on the public screen nearly exploded:

[Q-God is finally back! I missed him so much—crying!!]

[He’s teaming up? But Q’s always been a solo player!]

[Haha, maybe he’s getting too old to go solo! Gotta find some backup—he hasn’t done an offline event in ages.]

[Yo~ someone’s clearly still traumatized from being crushed by Q-God. Cope harder, bro. [whistle emoji]]

…

[Aaaaaa they’re entering the arena!!!]

In the simulated match lobby, two figures appeared in an instant. Under the system’s real-data projection, their appearances and physiques were exactly the same as in reality.

Qi He wore a mask, the corners of his eyes slightly raised—his gaze sharp and captivating.

Yan Chuanbai’s face was also half-covered; tall and straight-backed, the broken line of one eyebrow lent him a faintly dangerous air.

Two translucent panels appeared before them simultaneously:

『Q (Team 2/5) — Status: Alive

Current Points: 0』

『Y (Team 2/5) — Status: Alive

Current Points: 0』

Each team could have up to five members, but aside from Qi He—who competed solo every year—all the other teams were full.

Now, more than twenty teams had arrived.

Every one of them ranked among the top players in the game. Despite over a hundred people gathered in the waiting zone, conversation was sparse—most gazes subtly fixed on Qi He and the unfamiliar man standing beside him.

The two paid it no mind, moving as though the crowd didn’t exist.

Yan Chuanbai, intrigued, tapped the air where the panel hovered. “So this is holographic gameplay? There’s even an interface—it feels pretty real.”

Qi He shared with him, “The system’s panel looks about the same to me.”

Of course, bringing a system into a competition would count as cheating.

So for the time being, he had turned his system into the form of a robot vacuum, leaving it at home to wander around freely.

Just as he finished speaking, a mocking laugh came from nearby.

“Never even seen a player panel before? For a ‘newbie,’ you’re about as fresh as they come.”

The two turned their heads—and saw a shock of bright orange hair.

Qi He narrowed his eyes slightly, searching his memory. That team, if he recalled correctly, had been last season’s runner-up.

Back then, he’d found a bug in the game and got so caught up testing it that he hadn’t bothered finishing them off—letting them snatch some extra points in the end.

The orange-haired man was now looking at them with open provocation and scorn.

Suddenly, Yan Chuanbai spoke from beside him, his tone sounding almost modest.

“Oh, this is my first time using one of these panels… can it expand and retract? What does yours look like?”

The orange-haired man snorted. “Bumpkin.”

Then, with a casual gesture, he displayed his own panel:

『Night Owl (5/5) — Status: Alive

Current Points: 0』

“Night Owl?”

Yan Chuanbai’s brows lowered, a predatory gleam flashing in his eyes. The corners of his lips curved upward as he said, “I’ll remember that. Your team will be the first to go out—with zero points.”

Night Owl froze, realizing too late that he’d been played. He gritted his teeth.

“Don’t think that just because you’re teamed up with Q, you can act all high and mighty!”

Qi He nodded seriously. “You don’t have to keep complimenting me. I already know I’m amazing.”

“……”

The opposing team’s expressions darkened instantly, fury flaring in their eyes!

Meanwhile, the public screen erupted with laughter:

[HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!]

[Watching Q-God’s matches is always worth it—half the fun is his trash talk! 😂]

[Who’s that new guy though?]

[No clue, but damn he’s handsome. Did Q-God pick his teammate based on looks and body? 👀]

…

In the waiting zone, after that sharp exchange, the other teams wisely kept their distance—

their eyes flickering between cautious and curious as they watched the pair.

The match’s starting time drew closer and closer.

The massive display at the front of the waiting area lit up. As the chat grew increasingly tense and expectant, the countdown on the screen neared its end:

“3… 2… 1—”

With a flicker of light, the entire battlefield sealed off.

The game had begun.

The screen announced the setting for this round: Jungle Palace.

Beep!

The display split into two sections:

On the left — [Weapon] Selection Zone.

On the right — [Skill] Selection Zone.

Each player could choose only one at the start.

Other [Items] would have to be found—or fought over—after entering the arena.

The levels and types of draws were completely random.

Opponents and spectators couldn’t see the specific results—only the rarity level of the “Weapon Box” or “Skill Box.”

From highest to lowest, the ranks were: Orange → Purple → Blue.

By now, each team had already divided their roles, and members were standing in their chosen selection zones.

Qi He glanced up for just a second before walking straight to the [Skill] Zone.

He didn’t give Yan Chuanbai any instructions—but the moment he stopped in front of the skill area, another figure appeared right beside him.

Yan Chuanbai had come too, eyes lifted toward the display.

Around them, several players exchanged surprised looks—some curious, some gloating, some faintly contemptuous.

The public chat exploded:

[Aaaah don’t both go for skills!!]

[Total newbies move, rookie mistake—there’s only two of them! What if they both draw non-offensive skills? Who’s gonna cover who?!]

[It’s over. Q-God’s about to faceplant this season.]

[Q! Tell your teammate to go to the weapon zone!!]

But in front of the screen, Qi He didn’t tell him to move.

The corners of his lips curved slightly.

After surviving the apocalypse, they didn’t need weapons to start with.

“Let’s do this.”

He lifted his hand and tapped the air.

A flash of light—a holographic [Skill Box] materialized in his palm. Qi He opened it, took one look, and raised an eyebrow.

Beside him, Yan Chuanbai had also finished his draw. He opened his own box, glanced at it, and let out a quiet chuckle.

Though the audience couldn’t see the specific content, they could see the rarity level displayed—

Blue. Both of them had drawn the lowest tier.

Unlike [Weapons], [Skills] had a layer of unreality to them, so they always came with certain restrictions—such as duration, range, or number of uses.

According to past experience—

Blue: either a “life-saving” skill or a one-time-use item.

[…Both of them got blue skills?]

The public chat went dead silent for two whole seconds before exploding:

[Holy crap! What a catastrophic start!!!]

Meanwhile, inside the arena, Qi He had already equipped his skill.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he lowered his gaze, stepping out of the waiting zone with Yan Chuanbai right behind him.

“Let’s go.”

They entered the stage, one after the other.

——————————————————————

Author’s Note:

Qi He: “Back from the apocalypse and stronger than ever!” (power) 😎

Yan Roast Chicken: 💋💋💋

*CSl.B: “Cyber Survival Battleground”—I made it up, don’t mind me 💖

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