Chapter 31: The Ghost in the Feed
04:13 a.m. — Broadcast Layer: Classified - Overseer Protocol Online
The world moved on after the Blackout Era.
At least, that's what people told themselves.
But beneath the clean, sterilized version of reality, the final broadcast never truly ended.
It just went… deeper.
Invisible to the average eye.
But for those marked by the system—the Loopholes—it was everywhere.
Jin Wei walked through a perfectly ordered street in Sector 13 of New Shanghai.
His face didn't appear on surveillance cameras.
Security drones passed by without registering his existence.
Officially, he'd been dead for six months.
But here he was—alive, breathing… and invisible to the system.
Or so he thought.
A faint vibration traveled through the air.
The scent of jasmine hit him like a sudden memory.
No. Not again.
He turned toward a nearby public billboard.
It flickered, glitched…
And then displayed a countdown:
[Broadcast Resumption: 00:59:59]
His heart sank.
It's starting all over again…
The screen shifted.
A familiar face appeared—the little girl in the field of jasmine.
She looked directly at him, through the screen, through the data layers.
"Welcome back, Jin Wei. The Final Invitation still stands."
Before he could react, his surroundings changed.
Reality blurred.
One moment he was on the street; the next—he stood in the middle of an RSZ (Reality Sync Zone).
An abandoned theater, the air thick with static.
Rows of mannequin-like figures sat silently in the seats, their hollow eyes fixed on the empty stage.
And then… the lights dimmed.
A spotlight focused on center stage.
The rattan chair appeared again.
Jin Wei's phone vibrated violently in his pocket, though he hadn't turned it on in months.
The screen displayed a new system prompt:
[Final Broadcast - Cycle 2: Commencing.
Will You Assume the Role of Witness or Participant?]
[WITNESS] [PARTICIPANT]
His thumb hovered over the screen.
But before he could choose, a second message overrode the prompt:
[Choice Overridden. You've Already Been Chosen. Welcome… Host Candidate.]
The mannequins in the theater turned their heads toward him.
One by one, their blank faces cracked open—
And behind them, screens blinked to life, each showing a different version of himself.
Laughing.
Crying.
Dying.
The scent of jasmine grew unbearable.
And from behind the curtain…
He heard it.
That familiar, rhythmic sound.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
End of Chapter 31