Apocalypse: I Have One More Keyword Than Others

Name: Duge;

ID: 48699527;

Spiritual Power: 60;

Current Ranking: 3000\3000;

Key Phrase for the Trial: Maintenance;

Key Phrase for the Trial: Backstab;

Advanced Skills: None;

Derived Items: None;

...

The moment Duge opened his eyes, a series of data floated before them. Through the data, he could see the dust-covered beams and rafters behind.

The ancient architectural style was obviously not modern.

Transmigration? Dreaming?

The faint smell of blood and a sour stench lingered at his nose, making him very uncomfortable. Duge instinctively tried to sit up, but intense pain throughout his body sent him falling back down.

Hiss!

Duge groaned, only then becoming aware of the pain that seemed to tear through every organ and not leave a single spot untouched.

Damn it!

Duge grimaced. This body must have been beaten by dozens of people!

But this also confirmed for him that he had transmigrated and wasn't dreaming. If it was a dream, the pain would have woken him up by now.

Duge sighed to himself. The methods of transmigration were getting more and more outrageous these days, not even sparing him in his sleep.

"Don't bother, your injuries are worse than mine, and you won't be able to move without resting for a month," a muffled voice came from beside him.

Duge turned his head; another injured person lay on the wooden bed next to him.

That person's face was swollen to that of a pig's head, with a blood-soaked dirty cloth stuffed in one nostril, and swollen eyes looking at him askew, his mouth constantly moving.

He had one arm that could move, tearing at the straw mat underneath him, continuously stuffing the shriveled reed stems into his mouth as if they were the most delicious delicacies in the world.

However, looking at his grimacing face as he swallowed, Duge could tell that the straw mat did not taste good. By this time, the reed-woven mat had a large twenty-centimeter square piece chewed off by him.

So poor that he has to eat mats?

Duge assessed his situation, feeling desolate. Was the person he transmigrated into not only badly injured but also too poor to afford food?

Just what kind of person had he transmigrated into?

What a miserable start!

Duge refocused on the personal data in front of him, consoling himself that at least he had a golden finger...

The man continued without pause, "Brother, what are your key phrases?"

Duge was stunned, subconsciously looking at the two key phrases, "Maintenance" and "Backstab," in his personal data. What's this about?

Does everyone have a panel?

It's not his exclusive golden finger?

This is just...

"Stop pretending," the man chuckled with difficulty, "I saw you take over the body. Don't believe that crap your teachers in the commoner schools tell you about not revealing your own key phrases. They're all lies. This is a simulation trial, not the real Alien Battlefield. Cooperation is the only chance for a win-win. Without it, given your current physical condition, once I recover, it will only take me minutes to eliminate you, believe it or not?"

A simulation trial?

Alien Battlefield?

What are these things?

Duge was becoming more confused. He hated this feeling, being cut off from all information. It was too unfriendly for a transmigrator. Having transmigrated, why couldn't he have the memories of his host?

After a moment of silence, Duge calmed down and asked, "The prerequisite for cooperation is honesty, so you first, what are your key phrases?"

"Honesty?" The man sneered, shaking a piece of the reed mat in his hand, "I'm non-stop eating these hard-to-swallow grass mats, isn't this an obvious hint? What do you think my key phrase is?"

Duge said quietly, "People can pretend."

"That's the same old civilian academy nonsense again…" The man looked at Duge in disbelief, snickered with amusement, "I can't believe your thought process. Do you think I would bother to eat a grass mat that not even dogs would chew, just to fool you? Who do you think you are?"

A key phrase related to eating?

Based on his own key phrases, Duge speculated and ventured to ask, "Eat for survival?"

"Go to hell with 'eat for survival,' you don't pretend like this," the man said angrily, "My key phrase is 'Gluttony.'"

"Gluttony?" Duge repeated, surprised.

"Yes," the man replied with pride, shaking the reed stem in his hand, "As long as I keep eating, I can grow rapidly. It's one of the best key phrases. Before the possession, my injuries were as bad as yours. After two bowls of rice and a piece of a grass mat, I can already sit up. Brother, if we cooperate, it's all to your advantage. Otherwise, with your injuries, there's a high likelihood you won't make it."

Duge glanced at the two empty bowls in front of the man and then at his own empty bedside. He didn't care that the man had stolen his food, instead focusing on the gist of his words: Gluttony, as long as one keeps eating, one can grow rapidly...

It seems that the key phrases are vital for breaking through.

Duge thought to himself, his key phrases were Maintenance and Backstab. Since Gluttony is about eating, then Maintenance and Backstab...

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Two terms surfaced in his mind:

Maintenance: to sustain, protect, and keep from harm or damage; synonyms: repair, conserve, shelter.

Backstab: a strike from behind, betraying someone by stabbing them in the back; synonyms: betrayal, sneak attack.

...

Before his transmigration, Duge majored in Chinese literature, so he couldn't have been more familiar with these terms. Since Gluttony grew by eating, it stands to reason.

By the same token, his key to growth must be protecting others.

But why would "backstab" be the second keyword if there's "maintenance"?

They should be conflicting, right?

No.

That guy only mentioned one keyword just now...

Duge looked at him and asked ambiguously, "Is there anything else?"

"What else?" the man countered and then snickered, "Brother, don't be too greedy. I'm the one in control here..."

"My keyword is maintenance." Since the other party only mentioned one keyword, Duge also kept one hidden.

He was ignorant of too many things. Regardless of the other's intentions, the information obtained, true or false, was far better than fumbling on his own.

It was enough to win his trust with one keyword, and besides, there was no need to reveal "backstab", a keyword that required secrecy to be effective. Duge was even prepared to fabricate another term if questioned further.

"Maintenance?" But the man showed no intention of asking further. His eyes lit up, and he swallowed the straw mat in his mouth, "A support-type keyword, fantastic! A chosen partner indeed, it wasn't in vain that I pursued you and possessed this body. You defend, I eat like crazy, brother will take you flying, and we'll beat everyone..."

The idea of a second keyword didn't seem to occur to the man at all. Did he only have one keyword?

It seemed he did have a golden finger, but that remained to be verified...

Duge offered a sheepish smile and tried to get on friendly terms: "Bro, what's your name?"

The man replied, "Feng Jiu."

"Your real name?" Duge asked.

"Of course, it's the name of this body." Feng Jiu chuckled, "Little brother, our acquaintance only extends to this simulation. We use each other to our advantage, and once out of the simulation, we're strangers, understood?"

"Got it." Duge nodded, asking no more.

This was the second time Feng Jiu mentioned the simulation. Combining this with the current situation, Duge surmised that the simulation most likely referred to the current world.

Is it simulating a real world for people to play in?

Duge surveyed his surroundings.

The buildings, the smell, and the pain on his body...

Everything was incredibly lifelike.

If such a realistic world was virtual, how advanced must the technology of that other world be?

If it's a game, there should be a way to exit, right?

Duge once again looked at his character panel. He didn't find an exit button but noticed a change in one of the values. The 'current ranking' previously showed 3000/3000, now it was 1115/1213;

"1213?" Duge mumbled consciously.

"Sixty percent of the unlucky ones who failed to possess successfully!" Feng Jiu exclaimed, looking at Duge, "Brother, I must say, with your spiritual power, you're incredibly lucky to have taken over a badly injured host successfully."

A sixty percent elimination rate?

Duge followed the key point of his words and continued to probe, "Brother Jiu, do you think the two of us can eliminate others by cooperating?"

"Absolutely," Feng Jiu grinned while he continued gnawing at the straw mat. "My keyword is Gluttony, equivalent to winning lying down. Pair it with your maintenance, and it would be unjust if we don't make it into the top ten. Don't worry, if I can make it into the top ten, I'll definitely bring you with me. Otherwise, with your indistinct maintenance, you'd have no chance of growing."

"I'm counting on you, Brother Jiu." Duge managed a smile, "Brother Jiu, do you know the identities of the two we've taken over? Tell me about it. I don't understand any of this. I don't want to blow our cover..."

"You have no memories?" Feng Jiu asked in astonishment.

Indeed, he was the only one without memories. Damn it!

Duge cursed inwardly, his voice tinged with disappointment, "Not a single memory. I don't know where it went wrong."

Feng Jiu looked at Duge with pity, clicking his tongue, "Maybe your transmigration target was too severely injured and died during possession, which is why you lost the memory! It has happened before in the simulation. You're lucky to have met me; otherwise, with a support keyword and lost memories, how were you to survive?"

Phew!

Duge let out a breath and forced a bitter smile, "Just bad luck, I guess!"

"Your luck changed when you met me." Feng Jiu spat out a mouthful of indigestible straw, cursing, "Ugh, that's so damn nasty. Once I recover, if I don't eat delicacies at every meal, it would be a disservice to the hardship I endured eating this straw mat."

He tore off another piece of the mat and stuffed it into his mouth, "In this world, your name is Feng Qi, and mine is Feng Jiu. Our identities are sparring partners for the young masters and disciples of the Feng Family."

Duge puzzled, "Sparring partners?"

"More like punching bags," Feng Jiu spat out another mouthful of straw bits, "Those young masters don't treat sparring partners like humans. Otherwise, do you think we'd be injured this badly? But in a way, we got lucky, since they aren't this critically injured, our possession wouldn't have been so easy..."

Punching bags?

Duge's face instantly darkened, confirming a miserable beginning.

He continued to inquire, "Brother Jiu, any other vital information?"

"In half a year, the Qiao Family's holy land will open, and the tenth Martial Worlds Tournament will take place, selecting excellent young talents from the Martial Worlds to enter the holy land for treasure hunting. This should be the main story of the world. We must find a way to join the tournament, as staying close to the main story line is our only chance to achieve good ranking." Feng Jiu looked seriously at Duge, "The Feng Family's sons and direct disciples are preparing for the Martial Worlds Tournament and have been harshly training us, their sparring partners, which resulted in our severe injuries. Our immediate priority is to find a way to escape the Feng Family, or they will surely train us to death..."

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