Chapter 313: Chapter 199 Strange Alarm Clock (Second Update)_2

Feeling drowsy, the lazy sofa next to him became twice as alluring, as if someone was taking his hand and leading him to sleep for a while.

The feeling was so strong that Huang Ping almost got sucked in but finally managed to wrest himself free.

Rushing out the door, he closed the door to the personal rest room and then reflected on how one should not enter it carelessly—otherwise, it was too easy to never come out.

Looking around again, he noticed that many new and mysterious little items had appeared all over the office.

The company’s printer had been replaced with a new one, everyone’s notebooks had been replaced with new ones, and even the ballpoint pens had become new.

Even Sanmiao had its own toy; a beautiful cardboard box that was just the right size to contain its liquid-like body, allowing it to comfortably lie inside.

But seeing these items, Huang Ping felt it was not a good sign.

With just the rest room being so dangerous, who knew what traps lay within the other items.

Boss, do you really not want us to work?

But I, Huang Ping, am not one to boast without merit!

Let me show you my determination as an office drone!

After ten minutes, Huang Ping, lying on the lazy sofa, felt really comfortable.

This comfort did not dissipate until an hour later.

Upon exiting, Huang Ping stretched his limbs and felt completely relaxed, with more spring in his step.

With this newfound sensation, he started working diligently and discovered his efficiency had greatly improved.

As the workday ended, Huang Ping thought about the feeling and realized that he had never really known how to rest before, merely allowing himself to lie down.

Taking out his phone, he decided to order a similar rest room online so he and his fiancée could also get some proper rest.

While Huang Ping was vainly searching for the lazy sofa, new items continued to emerge ceaselessly from the lab, with the item compendium expanding daily.

Due to the randomness of the items, players were filled with curiosity about what might be produced, and deciphering and experimenting with the uses of these items was the most interesting aspect of “The Laboratory.”

Compared to previous games, this gameplay wasn’t intense and lacked severe confrontation; what players could do was invest resources, receive outputs, and then piece by piece, uncover the uses of the items.

If they couldn’t find that certain something, it would be quite boring to play.

However, once they resonated with the plethora of ever-changing items in the game, players would look forward to seeing these novel items and use various methods to analyze their actual uses and peculiar behaviors, then classify the items and share them on the website with others.

It was thought that the gameplay was just that simple, but suddenly one day, a player shared a screenshot of an item on a website.

At first glance, the screenshot seemed ordinary—it was just a photo of an enlarged ruler.

But when others enlarged the ruler, to their surprise, they discovered that it was imprinted with a line of text in very small letters.

The text had been translated into Chinese, and through fuzzy recognition, players deciphered the message: “Today, feels like another day to punch the higher-ups.”

After the first line of text was discovered, players began to pay attention.

Every item, in addition to routine checks, was now also subjected to text inspection. Through this, players discovered many items actually had such text; it was just that they had overlooked it before.

“Being charged if energy supply exceeds fifteen seconds, what kind of absurd rule is that?”

“So tired, yet there’s still so much material to process, looks like more overtime today.”

“I never should have majored in item manufacturing, but it seems like a pretty employable field.”

“A new set of regulations arises, and the urge to slaughter the higher-ups intensifies.”

“Every day I process these materials, but for what?”

“Voted as the factory flower again, it’s really quite embarrassing.”

As the players gathered these texts, the image of a factory worker girl came to mind, making them feel as though they were seeing a lethargic factory manager hard at work.

Some even input the rough image into AI, and the resulting image of an executive female secretary was well-received by the players.

What can’t be seen, is often the best.

The laboratory-loving players began to let their imaginations run wild; the factory girl became fixed in their minds as a lazy, dozing beauty, sleeping 24 hours a day, with long hair that looked a bit messy but could be very pretty when styled.

In the Game Inn, players even started summarizing the factory girl’s catchphrases, their lively work language providing endless amusement.

Some even started writing fan fiction, which turned out quite good. After reading, it piqued one’s curiosity about who the factory girl really was and made one want to know even more.

Everyone saw the factory girl as an easter egg secretly hidden by Fang Cheng in “The Laboratory,” but when Fang Cheng saw such comments, he could only express helplessly that he really didn’t hide any.

Factory girl or whatnot, he really wasn’t familiar.

However, the players’ speculations confirmed the divination he’d whimsically calculated before; indeed, someone was continuously crafting items on the other side, and these definitely had something to do with the Far Traveler.

The existence of the other side piqued Fang Cheng’s curiosity, but before he could make any further arrangements, the players suddenly discovered that the slide rail seemed to be closed.

No matter how much cargo was inserted, the progress bar on the slide rail remained unchanged. These items would appear in the white hole untouched, making it seem as though something unpleasant had happened to the factory girl on the other side.

Some interpreted this incident as Fang Cheng experimenting with a new storytelling technique.

In their view, Fang Cheng had created a down-to-earth image with just a few words, later to be interrupted by some accident breaking communication with the players. Then, the factory girl’s troubles would incite unease among the players, leading naturally to the introduction of new game content.

So, Fang Cheng Studio, when is your new game coming out?

We’ve all set the stage for you to this extent; wouldn’t you let us down by not releasing a new game?

As the players anxiously discussed what could have possibly happened to the factory girl, a new item finally arrived.

This time, the item was a clock.

It appeared to be just an ordinary astronaut clock, a doll in a bulky astronaut suit holding a clock, sitting there blankly.

But unlike ordinary clocks, this one didn’t run on batteries but needed to be wound up.

Moreover, it had no feature for setting the time; once started, it could only move according to the current time.

When the players received the clock, there was some winding left. Its second hand was rotating counterclockwise, and the minute and hour hands were also moving backward.

But after rotating for a while, the clock came to a standstill.

On an inconspicuous side of the clock, the handwriting of the factory girl appeared: “Do not use, do not wind up, I’m sorry.”

A sense of foreboding immediately arose, and the player who received the clock live streamed the event in the Game Inn. During the live stream, they wound up the clock forcefully.

Aren’t players who don’t court death still players?

Since the time couldn’t be adjusted, the only option was to place the clock down, and a bunch of squirrels gathered around in hopeful anticipation. Moreover, over a hundred thousand viewers stayed in the live stream room, eager to see what would happen when the countdown of the clock finished.

Thus, a very dull but extremely popular live stream began.

The live room had no other content but the reversing clock, with hundreds of squirrel players guarding it. Whenever the second hand stopped, they would wind it up again to keep it ticking.

Beyond that, there was nothing.

However, the audience was very loyal. They just watched the clock, waiting to see what would happen when it completed its cycle.

After a slow wait of a day, the hour hand of the clock finally completed one rotation.

The players held their breath, the popularity of the live room peaked at that moment, everyone was expecting something to happen, but nothing did.

The clock just vanished from its place in an instant, leaving everyone bitterly disappointed.

Except for Fang Cheng.