Earth Realm.

Romance can wait, but crime cases are a daily must-see. Ever since stumbling upon a true crime analysis video, seasoned homebody Xie Tingting has been utterly hooked—her video app has effectively become a channel dedicated to murder and dismemberment.

While others’ feeds are filled with handsome men showing off their abs, hers is a stream of suitcases pulled from rivers, headless bodies found in the mountains, mysterious foul smells emanating from rental apartments, and walls suddenly erected in abandoned basements…

It’s not that she isn’t scared—she just can’t help herself.

As a home-based illustrator, watching these real-case analyses has become one of her few avenues for understanding the diversity of human nature and generating inspiration.

But while she enjoys them during the day, at night, as soon as she closes her eyes, her mind is flooded with images of serial killers. Xie Tingting is so terrified she can’t sleep.

It’s no exaggeration to say she’s on edge and paranoid—constantly imagining someone picking the lock or climbing through the window. Even after deadbolting the door and inserting the key for extra security, she still feels uneasy.

Thanks to her vivid imagination and professional habits, she even visualizes the scenes in storyboard format, with the suspects’ menacing faces lunging right at her.

After a month of torment from paranoia, Xie Tingting has developed nervous exhaustion—suffering from insomnia, light sleep, low energy, dark circles under her eyes, and breaking out on her normally clear forehead and nose.

She nods off as soon as she picks up her pen, yet can’t fall asleep when she lies down. Her ongoing comic can’t be updated, leaving readers eagerly waiting and her editor hounding her daily for updates. The mounting stress has created a vicious cycle, worsening her insomnia to the point where she can only rely on medication to barely fall asleep.

But long-term use of melatonin leads to tolerance.

One day, even after taking two pills, Xie Tingting still can’t sleep. She picks up her phone and opens her usual manga app, only for an ad to suddenly pop up on the screen.

#Insomniacs, rejoice! The world’s first fantasy healing indie game is here!#

“Still struggling with insomnia? Feeling exhausted but tossing and turning, unable to sleep? Finally dozing off only to wake up in the middle of the night, staring until dawn? *Bugs World*, an innovative game, is here to solve your troubles.

Immerse yourself in a magical rainforest setting, transform into a tiny bee, and listen to the symphony of nature. Experience infinite mental relaxation and say goodbye to sleep troubles.

Limited spots available in the beta test—first come, first served. Click to pre-register now!”

*Bugs World* is the last-minute name Shen Yi came up with to fit the healing theme.

Xie Tingting usually hates app ads, especially the kind that inexplicably take over the entire screen.

Normally, she’d swipe away without a second thought, but this time, the words strike a chord, and she inexplicably clicks on it.

The serene, blue-green forest promotional page is surprisingly soothing. Xie Tingting taps the “Reserve Game” button in the center, but after waiting a while, nothing happens.

After several attempts with no response, she exits, feeling frustrated and annoyed. Just as she’s about to put her phone down, she notices a new green app on her home screen—*Bugs World*.

When did this get downloaded? She didn’t even see a download notification. Could it be a virus?

Cautiously, Xie Tingting runs a full scan with her antivirus software. Once she confirms it’s safe, she opens the game, only to see a prompt: “Reservation successful. Game launch countdown: Unknown.”

“Unknown”—how fitting.

Xie Tingting laughs in frustration and tries to long-press to uninstall it, but the app won’t delete!

It’s even more stubborn than 360!

That night, several others have similar experiences. Some, in disbelief, reset their phones—only to find the familiar green app still plaguing their home screens when they walk out of the store with their new devices.

Under the scorching July sun, one person stands in the heat, feeling an uncanny chill.

Human joys and sorrows are never shared, let alone between humans and bees. Unaware of his fellow Earthlings’ fears, Shen Yi happily checks the backend data. All six targeted users have reserved the game—a stunning 100% reservation rate.

As the system explained, reserving the game is like signing a contract. Once the game launches, Shen Yi can force these players to log in once.

He’s confident that once they log in, he won’t need to worry about retaining them.

After his Mana recovers, Shen Yi instructs the system to continue targeting users for promotions.

The number of players who can log in is limited by the hive’s size and food storage, but there’s no cap on reservations—the more, the better.

Three days later, the little brothers emerge from their cocoons one after another. As Shen Yi expected, all ten have gained intelligence. Moreover, the Fourth and Number Ninth’s wings have noticeably doubled in size, fully covering their fluffy bottoms. They fly more gracefully, with reduced noise, leaving Shen Yi gazing enviously.

“Boss!”

The little brothers excitedly crowd around Shen Yi, calling “Boss, boss!” repeatedly. Surrounded by their eager, youthful voices, Shen Yi feels like Grandpa surrounded by the Calabash Brothers.

“Boss, pat me!”

“Pat me, pat me!”

The bumblebees have figured out that their emperor shows affection through petting, so they all vie for his attention.

“Alright, alright, one at a time.”

After Shen Yi has petted each of them, he first assigns them elder titles in the “Swarm Appointment” interface.

Naturally, bee swarms don’t have elders—this is a position Shen Yi created.

Combined with their original rankings, they become the Second Elder, Fourth Elder, Fifth Elder, and so on. It looks quite official—enough to deceive players.

The elders report directly to him and are responsible for various tasks like scouting, guarding, construction, gathering, and nurturing—multitasking bees with more capabilities take on more work.

He then grants them NPC permissions. Each receives an NPC interface, allowing them to assign tasks to players. Most importantly, as game NPCs, the little brothers can now level up by farming players for experience.

Just as Shen Yi is counting food supplies to decide how many players to summon, the system alerts him: “Host must deduct corresponding experience points to summon players—100 EXP per player. It is recommended that the host level up first.”

“I knew it,” Shen Yi mutters. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

He takes a deep breath. While disappointed, he actually feels more at ease. A free lunch might be tempting, but it leaves him unsettled. In his view, you must give before you can receive.

Summoning one player costs 100 EXP; summoning ten would cost 1,000, dropping him to Level 3. Shen Yi decides to level up first.

Over the next few days, he focuses on releasing a batch of larvae, assigning the little brothers to nurture them, continuing to gather and store food, and expanding the hive. Meanwhile, he busies himself hunting insects to level up.

Sixteen days later, the first batch of larvae matures and joins the hive’s construction efforts. Shen Yi continues releasing more larvae.

A month later, Shen Yi reaches Level 7.

The hive has taken shape, forming a stable operational structure. Shen Yi no longer needs to manage trivial hive matters—he only oversees releasing larvae.

These non-sentient larvae aren’t counted in the swarm statistics, so the Main Quest shows no progress.

The daily task “Hive Construction” has gradually increased from constructing 10 combs per day to 30. Shen Yi earns a Starlight Point reward daily, though he still doesn’t know what they’re for. He figures saving them will come in handy eventually.

The hive now has two layers of combs, totaling 600 combs.

The aphid colony has expanded to over a hundred, and the swarm currently has ample food reserves.

By evening, the number of game reservations had reached 236.

Due to the need to hunt monsters and level up, he could only allocate a maximum of 10 Mana per day for targeted pushes. As the target audience grew, the reservation rate dropped to 91%.

The time flow between the game world and Earth operates at a 3:1 ratio. While Shen Yi experienced a fulfilling month, only 10 days passed on Earth.

Over these 10 days, the 236 people who reserved the game endured relentless torment from the malware. They tried everything—resetting their phones, restarting, seeking hackers, even changing phones—but none could rid themselves of the persistent green icon.

Some particularly creative-minded people even sought out Taoist priests, praying to deities and performing rituals to ward off evil spirits.

Some took screenshots and posted them online, claiming that after the “Panda Burning Incense” virus, the supernatural virus “Bugs World” had emerged.

However, these voices were too faint to stand out in the vast and ever-changing online world, and for now, they failed to make much impact.

Instead, dozens of victims, fated to meet across great distances, found each other under one such post. They quickly formed an alliance, created a dedicated group, and began sharing the latest information and seeking solutions.

Shen Yi knew nothing of this. He planned to summon the first batch of players for a trial run, initially set at 20 people.

After deducting 2,000 experience points, his level dropped back to 6, and 20 special larvae emerged on the first layer of the honeycomb.

Meanwhile, on Earth, the first 20 people who reserved the game finally saw a response from the viral software on their phones:

“Game launch countdown: 128 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds.”

Coincidentally, that day, a popular drama titled “Death’s Arrival” trended on social media, featuring a protagonist with spiritual eyes who could see death countdowns above people’s heads.

Talk about a coincidence.

The 20 lucky individuals scattered across the country were completely freaked out.

This software was too eerie. Even the most powerful virus shouldn’t still be there after getting a new phone. It was as if the virus wasn’t targeting their devices but them personally.

After eliminating all impossibilities, whatever remained, however improbable, must be the truth.

Some took off on spontaneous trips, others wrote their wills, and a few cleared their browsing history and cloud storage.

Five days later, the countdown finally reached zero.

Xie Tingting, who had been suffering from stomach troubles and was just rising from the toilet with still-numb legs, her phone automatically opened the “Bugs World” game interface. A mechanical voice sounded as if right by her ear:

“Bugs World experience server is now open. Please get into a comfortable lying position. Countdown preparation: three minutes. Please get ready.”

“10, 9, 8, 7… 0.”

“Welcome to Bugs World. Please create a nickname.”

Xie Tingting’s consciousness suddenly emptied, and she was pulled into a vast forest, facing a green interface.

Before she could get a good look, a sharp pain hit the back of her head—thump!—and she collapsed against the toilet rim, knocked awake.

Clutching her phone, Xie Tingting stood frozen, her mind in turmoil.

Suddenly blacked out? Soul left my body? Advanced technology? Alien invasion!

True to her imaginative nature as a manga artist, Xie Tingting connected the dots in three minutes, seeing the huge conspiracy hidden beneath the game. She immediately dashed out the door, hailed a taxi, and rushed to the police station.

Protecting the Earth is everyone’s duty!