Moreover, even if he hadn’t deleted them, Brian Carter couldn’t possibly have sent them any messages—after all, he was already out cold at the table back then.

A dead man sending messages to the living—just thinking about it is creepy enough.

By comparison, these silly netizens were undoubtedly the best choice.

They didn’t know him in real life, and even if he didn’t log in for five months, they wouldn’t overthink it.

Fleet Passage: [Boss, you’re awesome!]

Gale Force: [So cool! So cool!]

Long Days Ahead: [666!]

Up All Night: [Nice! Bro, you’re invincible! Waiting for your game helmet! (funny)]

Brian Carter continued typing out his reminders.

[But there’s one thing I need to make clear: the equipment is only being loaned to you for use. Don’t lose it, and definitely don’t take it apart, or I won’t be able to explain it to the company.]

[Also, the equipment will be bound to the user’s identity information. In principle, each device can only register one account and can only be used by one person.]

Actually, calling them reminders was a stretch—he wasn’t really worried about the players not following the rules.

According to the system, the helmet would recognize the player’s identity information, so no one but the player could use it.

As for the equipment itself...

He wasn’t worried about that at all.

Since the system could deliver the helmet to the player, it must have a way to handle “after-sales service.” That wasn’t something he needed to worry about.

Long Days Ahead: [Is there a fee?]

Brian Carter: [No fees during the closed beta, but since funds are tight, there’s no salary either.]

Long Days Ahead: [6666, I’ll DM you my number, send me one.]

Fleet Passage: [Awesome, awesome, hahaha, send me one too! If it’s really fully immersive VR like you say, I’ll do a handstand and livestream diarrhea!]

Gale Force: [Haha, I’ll support you too.]

Up All Night: [(funny.jpg)]

Although these four bros clearly didn’t believe what he was saying, and didn’t really think such a fully immersive VR game existed in the world, they still sent over their numbers with a “let’s play along” attitude.

It was just a number generated by the official website.

It’s not like it was a bank card number and password.

Besides, they were also curious about what this guy was really up to...

After receiving the numbers, Brian Carter didn’t hesitate. He immediately summoned the administrator system, found the [Shelter Resident Directory], and checked “grant game qualification” next to the four numbers.

It would take three days for the cultivation pod to synthesize the clone bodies.

During these three days, the system would use special means to deliver the game helmets to the players... without even needing a shipping address.

As for what means exactly, whether it would attract attention in modern society, or whether it might be considered illegal operation—Brian Carter couldn’t be bothered to care.

He actually hoped more people would notice his official website—the more of a sensation it caused, the better.

That way, he’d have more options to choose from.

“Master, didn’t our official website already have 11 players signed up? Why are you only giving out 4 spots?”

Maybe noticing the cultivation pod activated in the next room, Little Henry, squatting in the corner, asked in confusion.

“Because we don’t need that many for now.”

He closed the [Shelter Resident Directory].

Brian Carter then opened the [Manage Sub-Allowance] page in the system and spent all five reward points on “Basic Blind Boxes.”

There was no point saving up for advanced blind boxes.

The reward for Mission 2 was a straight 100 points, so these 5 points didn’t matter.

On the pale blue holographic screen, the phosphorescence flickered. The wall on one side of the room gently vibrated again, and with a soft click, the alloy door of the “delivery slot” opened.

Looking at the items lying on the platform, Brian Carter was momentarily stunned.

“This... is the blind box?”

Little Henry replied.

“It should be.”

Brian Carter composed himself and said,

“I thought at least the prize would come in a box.”

Little Henry tried to explain.

“Maybe ‘blind box’ is just a setting?”

But what’s the point of a blind box you don’t even have to open?

Why not just call it a lottery?

Staring at the reward in front of the conveyor belt, Brian Carter was silent for a while.

“I get the logic.”

“But why did I clearly redeem five, and only four came out???”

Chapter 3: Is this guy for real?

Alright.

Turns out, he misunderstood.

The rewards from the blind boxes really did total “five.”

The system hadn’t done anything shady like “swallowing equipment,” and there was no such thing as “thank you for participating.”

It’s just that the prize from the fifth blind box was buried under the other four...

Right now, laid out in front of Brian Carter was a vacuum-packed, net weight 100g compressed biscuit, and three lollipops, each with a net weight of 25g—apple, banana, and mango flavors.

And a slip of paper.

The compressed biscuit’s packaging was intact, not bloated. Although the shelf life and production date were a mystery, it probably wouldn’t kill anyone.

This thing was actually pretty good.