"... Heh heh, this time it's Resident Evil 1. You rookies sure are lucky, huh? For your first time, you've already stumbled into such a light-hearted horror film. Even death will be an easy affair for you."
The cold, venom-laced voice was tinged with malicious laughter, sharp and grating like a blade scraping across glass. It resonated in the confined space of the subway train, making it even more irksome.
Though the bizarre appearance of these new recruits had initially taken Wang Qiu by surprise, once they began to stir from their stupor, he instinctively followed his original plan and gave them a taste of authority. With a stern face, he raised his Desert Eagle with a menacing motion, his cold gaze sweeping over the confused newcomers, as though he were staring at a pile of corpses.
—From past experience, such a show of force would usually keep the bewildered rookies in check for a while.
Unfortunately, this batch of new recruits, sent by the "Main God," was far from ordinary.
Four of them were seasoned adventurers from alternate worlds, so experienced that they casually regarded "saving the world" as nothing more than an amusing hobby.
"...Where's my precious red bean paste dorayaki?!"
—The round, pudgy Doraemon, half-awake, groped around on the floor before seemingly perplexed, scratching his bald head, muttering to himself in confusion. Clearly, he didn't see being transported to another world as a significant event.
"...Hey, hey! What kind of prank is this? Watch out, I'll report you for kidnapping a high school girl!"
—This was the fearless, god-defying Haruhi Suzumiya, the leader of the SOS Brigade, arrogantly standing with her hands on her hips and issuing a defiant proclamation.
"...Commencing data search... All previous links have been severed, calling information synthesis thought entity, no response... Judging it to be an accidental time-space jump, entering a parallel world..."
—This was the ever-rational, calm data synthesis thought entity in human form, the second-in-command of the SOS Brigade, the famous, expressionless literary girl, Yuki Nagato, a revered figure.
"...Where am I? Are you planning to kidnap me? I still have thirty years left on my mortgage, no ransom money... Heh heh! Hello, beautiful big sister! I'm Shin-chan, five years old, single. You can call me Shinnosuke. By the way, do you like green peppers?"
—Shinnosuke, or Shin-chan, paused briefly in confusion and fear, only to be instantly distracted by the fashionable young woman with large breasts. He moved toward her slowly, his voice laced with an awkward tone as he wickedly grinned and said, "Heh heh! I have a secret to tell you! I want to show you the elephant inside my underwear." He proceeded to tug at his shorts and lift his shirt...
—Although they spoke in Japanese, Wang Qiu's automatic translation system instantly rendered their words in Mandarin, thanks to the universal translator, a basic benefit of the Infinite Space. Thus, no matter where they traveled, language barriers were never an issue.
The remaining two seemingly normal newcomers were also no longer paying attention to Wang Qiu's words.
"...What the hell? Who's kid is this? Acting like a pervert at such a young age?"
—The young woman, who had just been subjected to Shin-chan's antics, gasped in disbelief.
"...Wait, is that really Doraemon? The legendary Doraemon? I've idolized you since I was little! Can you sign my book?"
—Meanwhile, the effeminate young office worker, his face full of fervor, pulled out a pen and notebook, offering it respectfully to Doraemon.
—In the end, Wang Qiu realized that none of these newcomers regarded him as an experienced adventurer. He felt a vein pop on his forehead, a storm of frustration welling up inside him.
In a fit of anger, he lifted his Desert Eagle and fired a shot at the ceiling, shouting, "Stay quiet and listen! Do you even know what manners are?"
But before he could finish, Doraemon retrieved a toy-like barrel from his pocket and placed it onto his round palm. He aimed it at Wang Qiu's chest and calmly asked, "Kidnapper, would you like to answer my questions?"
—Though the "weapon" appeared like a poor child's handmade toy, Wang Qiu, who had seen plenty of the Doraemon series, knew all too well that this was one of Doraemon's signature offensive gadgets—the "air cannon." Its power was enough to bring down a spaceship.
In fact, Doraemon, despite his seemingly innocent appearance, could be far more dangerous than any demon lord when he decided to unleash his fury.
—At this point, Wang Qiu truly understood the kind of unbelievable individuals he was now dealing with.
Sweating coldly, he nervously dropped his Desert Eagle and raised his hands in surrender, a bitter smile spreading across his face. "Alright, alright, please calm down! I'm not a kidnapper! I don't mean any harm, I'm just an unlucky fool like all of you, manipulated by fate…"
"…So, can this unlucky fool explain to us where we are and what exactly is going on?"
Doraemon, still holding the air cannon, asked with a calm expression, as though he were used to such situations. Indeed, this robot cat had probably been kidnapped and imprisoned countless times, yet he had never failed to function.
"…I didn't need to explain. And even if I did, you probably wouldn't believe me…" Wang Qiu shrugged with a wry smile. "The mastermind behind this has likely already implanted some information into your memories. If you think carefully, you should be able to recall it…"
…
Life and death, combat and slaughter, wisdom and cunning, trust and betrayal, friendship and love…
This was the Infinite Space, a brutal game akin to the ancient Roman Colosseum. Who created this game? It hardly mattered anymore. Perhaps it was the gods, perhaps demons, or even aliens, or future humans.
One thing was certain: those chosen to participate would become part of this game, or more accurately, they already had.
—Even an ambiguous, vague choice, presented to those lost in the modern world, would lead them to this cruel game. Once they unwittingly chose, they would be sent into various films, anime, and historical time-spaces.
They would then have to fight for survival, just like gladiators in the ancient Roman arena.
These time-spaces were built upon real-world stories, movies, games, anime, and historical accounts—strange and endless.
And while the "Main God" seemed to be testing the participants' combat abilities, they were also being tested on their social and cooperative skills.
—Though even the "wholesome stories" that might emerge in Infinite Space would still hold danger for those unlucky enough to find themselves in them.
In this alternate world, they would have to push their physical and intellectual limits to survive.
The majority, the mediocre ones, would perish quickly in the endless brutal tests. Only a tiny fraction of the fortunate few would survive long enough to unlock their "gene locks" and become the so-called "Golden Humans" or "New Humans."
Although the death rate of newcomers was high, every time a new film began, the "Main God" would introduce fresh recruits to replace those who died, keeping the team's number steady between seven and twenty people. The larger the group, the more challenging the task.
However, to give participants a sliver of hope, the "Main God" had provided a theoretical exit strategy: for each completed mission, those who survived would receive a thousand reward points. Once fifty thousand points were accumulated, they would be allowed to return to reality...