Woke Up to Find the Game I Made Came True

Chapter 1

68.951.34, Solar System, Blue Star

"Ye Bai, have you decided to go to Makur Star?"

As soon as the communication was connected, the image of an alien sitting in a spaceship 'popped' into Ye Bai's mind.

Although it wasn't the first time using the communication methods of ten thousand years in the future, Ye Bai still wasn't entirely accustomed to it. The [Personal Terminal], now an essential device for all interstellar citizens, was almost like the 'system' imagined in the web novels of ten thousand years ago, with all its functions operated directly within one's consciousness.

"Yes," Ye Bai replied after steadying herself. "I've sent out thousands of resumes over the past two weeks, and this is the only invitation I've received."

The Makur Star mentioned by the other party was an entertainment planet specializing in species exhibitions. The job offered to Ye Bai was to be displayed as a 'rare species' for aliens to observe, much like how humans visit animals in a zoo.

"Is there no other way? Has the Blue Star Council not contacted you?"

"Uh... no."

Upon hearing this, Aurora's hair, resembling jellyfish tentacles, began to sway—a sign of agitation among the people of the Illusion Sea.

Although Ye Bai's role in the laboratory was to be studied by Aurora, over the three years of their interaction, the alien scholar had come to regard Ye Bai as a friend.

"I truly can't understand it. You're the only survivor from Blue Star in the past ten thousand years! You're practically their genetic ancestor. Why haven't they protected you or offered any assistance?"

Ye Bai, the person in question, remained calm. "Because descendants of Blue Star are not uncommon in the universe. I just happened to stay on Blue Star, so I don't hold much research value for them."

Ten thousand years ago, Ye Bai had chosen to freeze her body due to a terminal illness. A decade or so later, a massive asteroid struck Blue Star, and facing the threat of civilization's collapse, humanity developed interstellar travel technology and left Blue Star, never to return.

It wasn't until three years ago, when a newly discovered wormhole brought the Stellar Alliance's attention to the Solar System, that Ye Bai, the 'ice popsicle,' was discovered and revived.

After ten thousand years, in the eyes of the new humans who had settled and evolved on other planets, Ye Bai, an ancient human, was merely another species with some shared genetic fragments. She was even more ancient than the scattered descendants of Blue Star, so ancient that she wasn't even considered 'human' anymore.

"To them, I probably don't seem much different from a monkey," Ye Bai paused. "And on top of that, when I first woke up three years ago, I had a dispute with the Blue Star Council, so they're even less likely to help me now."

Aurora recalled the dispute. "Are you talking about the incident with the property rights?"

"Beep—!"

Before Ye Bai could respond, the laboratory emitted a prompt indicating that the rental period had expired. In the next moment, her body was jolted uncontrollably and ejected outside.

The moment she came into contact with the outdoor environment, Ye Bai's throat and nose began to itch intensely.

"Cough, cough, cough..."

[Activate Purification Module]

With a thought, the discomfort disappeared, but at the same time, Ye Bai noticed the three-digit balance in her Stellar Coin account starting to drop like water.

This was the reason Ye Bai had no choice but to take the job at the interstellar zoo after Aurora's laboratory closed.

Just as a modern person transported directly to ancient times would bring with them viruses that could devastate that era, the viruses and radiation that the new humans of ten thousand years later were immune to were deadly threats to Ye Bai, the 'ancient human.'

One minute of exposure would cause a full-body allergic reaction, and three minutes would lead to fatal shock.

Ye Bai certainly didn't want to die—after all, she had only lived for twenty-eight... well, ten thousand and twenty-eight years.

But without the specialized equipment of the laboratory, paying for environmental purification herself would drain her three years of savings in just three days on Blue Star. That's why she had lingered in the laboratory until the very last second before it closed.

Aurora also saw Ye Bai's predicament, but her project funding had run out, leaving her unable to help. She could only suggest, "Now that you have interstellar citizenship, why not sell the property rights to the South Pole? That should be enough for you to move to a habitable planet in another star cluster..."

Before Aurora could finish, she noticed Ye Bai's expression suddenly change. "What's wrong?"

Standing outside the laboratory on the empty street, Ye Bai tilted her head slightly upward, her gaze fixed on something in the sky. She stood as still as a statue, unmoving.

"Ye Bai?"

Aurora called out again, and only then did Ye Bai snap out of her trance, her face still carrying a look of disbelief. She asked, "In the sky... what is that?"

This was the first time Aurora had seen Ye Bai with such an expression. The spaceship hadn't taken off yet, so Aurora pressed a button, and the sealed walls of the ship transformed into a panoramic window.

"Oh... that's the newly installed planetary billboard."

This kind of advertising space could be considered the largest and most influential position on a planet. Using visual conduction technology, everyone on the planet could see the advertisement content no matter where they were, as long as they looked up at the sky.

Ye Bai felt as though she couldn't breathe, her heart seemingly lodged in her throat. She could only ask Aurora in a dry voice:

"What's on it...?"

"That's the recently popular Stellar Network game, 'Ten Thousand Realms.' According to existing data, it has the effect of boosting players' mental strength regardless of their species. It's almost certain to become the first 'interstellar-wide' game since the Stellar Network's inception. I have to return to my home planet early to join my mentor's research project on 'Ten Thousand Realms,'" Aurora explained.

Interstellar-wide, indiscriminately boosting players' mental strength...

Ye Bai's mind buzzed, and she could only ask, somewhat dazedly, about the two words that mattered most to her: "...It's called 'Ten Thousand Realms'?"

"Exactly," Aurora replied, thinking that Ye Bai, having just stepped out of the laboratory for the first time in three years, was simply curious about everything around her.

But in reality, what Ye Bai was shocked by far exceeded Aurora's imagination.

The massive advertisement in the sky displayed an image of a peculiar plant.

The image resembled a tree, but it grew symmetrically in three directions from the center, as if the roots of three trees had merged into one, sprouting different branches and leaves. These branches and leaves grew from different trunks, intertwining as they spread out.

Many interstellar scholars had speculated about the meaning of this image, which was the first thing players saw upon entering the game. But no one could accurately explain, as Ye Bai could, that the image represented the three different technological development paths in the world of 'Ten Thousand Realms'—what players of construction games commonly referred to as the 'tech tree.'

Because this image had been designed stroke by stroke, by Ye Bai herself!

The games of the interstellar era, ten thousand years later, were completely different from those of ten thousand years ago.

Thus, no one paid attention to the fact that Ye Bai had once been a renowned game developer in the distant past, nor did anyone know that her latest project, which had never been released for public testing, was called 'Ten Thousand Realms.'

...

"I've decided not to go to Makur Star..."

The loneliness and confusion that had clouded Ye Bai's eyes for the past three years seemed to dissipate like fog, revealing a glimmer of something different.

However, Ye Bai didn't receive a response from Aurora. Looking at the record, she saw [Communication Disconnected]. It turned out that while she had been lost in thought, Aurora's spaceship had taken off, automatically cutting off the planetary signal.

Knowing that she wouldn't be able to contact Aurora anytime soon, Ye Bai turned her attention back to the 'Ten Thousand Realms' advertisement in the sky.

The image she had designed had now been embellished with 'billions' of details, transforming from two-dimensional to three-dimensional. It felt both unfamiliar and familiar. She was eager to learn more, but Blue Star's public network was essentially a local area network, displaying only the game advertisement without any additional content.

It seemed that everything would require accessing the Stellar Network. Once there, not only could she gather information, but she could also directly enter the game.

But there was a problem: registering a Stellar Network account cost a full ten thousand Stellar Coins!

Stellar Coins were the universal currency issued by the Stellar Alliance, with extremely high purchasing power. The price sounded outrageously expensive—Ye Bai had only managed to save a little over three hundred Stellar Coins in three years. It would take her a hundred years of work just to 'get online.'

In reality, this price was quite reasonable because the Stellar Network connected the entire universe, essentially a virtual version of the cosmos. Once logged into the Stellar Network, no matter where you were, real-time interaction was possible. Some less advanced civilizations were even willing to sell an entire planet just to purchase a Stellar Network account—equivalent to the only computer in the village with internet access.

Ten thousand Stellar Coins...

Ye Bai's expression shifted for a moment, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and made the decision to contact the Blue Star Council for the first time.

Back when the wormhole appeared, the solar system became the second-largest transportation hub in the Milky Way. According to the Stellar Alliance Convention, Blue Star was designated as a public planet, owned by the entire Stellar Alliance. Even the New Humans only had residency and administrative rights, not ownership of the planet. However, as the only intelligent being on Blue Star before its development, Ye Bai retained the sole piece of private property—

The patch of Antarctic land beneath her when she was in cryosleep.

Nowadays, Blue Star was considered prime real estate, and even a piece of land the size of Ye Bai's body was incredibly valuable.

In fact, when Ye Bai had just been thawed, the two major New Human factions that had arrived on Blue Star had approached her with offers to buy it.

Ye Bai refused.

Having lost her parents early, Ye Bai had built her wealth from scratch and achieved financial independence by her twenties. Aside from luck and talent, she also possessed an intuition that most people lacked.

At that time, she knew nothing about the world ten thousand years later, but her intuition told her that this property was not only her last connection to Blue Star but perhaps her only lifeline.

Sure enough, it was because of that small piece of land that Ye Bai, as an ancient human, was able to register as a Stellar Citizen.

On the other hand, if Ye Bai had sold the property before that, her identity would have been defined by the two New Human civilizations managing Blue Star.

Ye Bai would have been protected, free from worrying about environmental purification costs—but whether she was treated as a "human" or a "monkey" would have depended entirely on their whims.

Because of Ye Bai's refusal, the Blue Star Council subsequently gave her the cold shoulder, undoubtedly hoping to pressure her into compliance. Penniless and struggling to adapt to Blue Star's environment, even after luckily joining Aurora's lab, it was only a matter of time before she would have to give in.

In fact, as Aurora had previously suggested, now that Ye Bai had her citizenship, selling the property would give her enough money to buy a starship ticket to a remote star system and settle on a planet with a suitable environment.

In some less advanced civilizations, the exchange rate for Stellar Coins was high, and the three hundred Stellar Coins Ye Bai had saved over three years would be enough to retire comfortably.

But even when faced with the option of temporarily becoming a zoo exhibit, Ye Bai had never considered selling that insignificant piece of land.

She didn’t want to truly have "nothing" in this era.

Until now, when Ye Bai discovered that *Wanjie*, the creation born from her hands, might also exist in this era.

"I want to sell my Antarctic property."

As she spoke these words to the person on the other end of the communication line, Ye Bai's hands trembled uncontrollably.

Choosing to sell the property to register for the Stellar Network was undoubtedly a gamble with her entire life and fortune. Strangely, what she felt at this moment wasn’t fear but a long-lost excitement bubbling up from deep within her blood...

...

The transaction was ultimately settled for ten thousand Stellar Coins. This was the absolute minimum Ye Bai would accept, and it was only because of the competition between the two New Human factions within the Blue Star Council that she managed to secure such a high price.

[New transfer received: 10,000 Stellar Coins]

[Confirm registration for a Stellar Network account? Cost: 10,000 Stellar Coins]

[Confirmed]

There was no additional helmet. The personal terminal implanted in the back of Ye Bai's neck heated up, taking five seconds to upgrade the Stellar Network interface.

[Registration successful. Welcome to the Virtual Universe!]

After a brief moment of disorientation, Ye Bai found herself in another world, one that was indistinguishable from reality based on sensory input alone.

She didn’t waste time exploring her virtual personal space but instead hurriedly moved on to the next step:

[Log into the game *Wanjie*?]

[Connecting...]

Ye Bai's vision filled with swirling stars, as though she were traversing some kind of passage. The only thing that stood out was the bright red timer at the top of her field of vision—a reminder of her account balance.

She had three days left.