"Star Citizen: Feng Lin, Age: 17, from Huaxia City, Earth, Solar System. First entry into the virtual universe. Please create a virtual ID!..."
A mechanical voice rang out beside him, jolting Feng Lin awake.
He swept his gaze around and found himself standing in the midst of a starry expanse. Countless brilliant stars surrounded him, and galaxies swirled before his eyes, each one like a brand-new world, brimming with infinite possibilities and unknowns.
Based on information he'd searched on the Star Web, Feng Lin knew this was the initial interface every human encountered upon first logging into the virtual universe.
For humanity in the interstellar era, their realm of activity was no longer limited to the boundless universe of the real world; there was also a digital universe—the virtual cosmos.
This place mimicked the structure of the real universe but was entirely different.
In the real universe, every star was composed of countless bizarre planets, while in the virtual universe, stars were individual virtual worlds.
Movies, games, animations—all sorts of elements were blended together. What people in the real world imagined was digitally simulated here into a kind of illusory reality, forming a virtual multiverse that anyone could enter freely and enjoy.
And one hour in reality equaled a day in the virtual universe, making it all the more addictive.
Shooting stars streaked by, and Feng Lin's eyes narrowed as he realized they were wondrous creations—dragons from games, Zerg motherships from sci-fi, flying swords from *Swords and Immortals*...
These were fantastical artifacts obtained from various virtual worlds.
This place was full of infinite possibilities. Everything was fake, yet felt real.
If you could imagine it, it could be done.
Feng Lin was mesmerized.
In the real universe, no matter where you were among the stars, as long as you had a network connection, you could communicate instantly through the virtual network.
Hearing about it was one thing; seeing it was another.
For Feng Lin, who had traveled through time from the ancient Earth era, this scene was nothing short of breathtaking.
This was an unprecedented great era—this was interstellar humanity's virtual universe.
Humanity conquered the endless real universe externally while building an infinite virtual universe internally through technology.
The real universe and the virtual universe combined formed the core of human civilization.
Major corporations in the real world had strongholds not only in reality but also in the virtual world.
Without entering here, it was hard to truly grasp the greatness and vastness of modern human technology.
Feng Lin felt for the first time that he had been too reclusive before. Since his time travel, he had focused solely on cultivation, neglecting this other part of the world—the virtual universe.
After the initial shock wore off, Feng Lin snapped back to reality. He still had important business to attend to!
He had to hurry.
Who knew how long this virtual interview would take? If it dragged on too long, the virtual universe's optical brain might forcibly log him out.
In the virtual universe, anything was possible.
In the real universe, humans had countless limitations—they couldn't grow wings and fly, couldn't survive deep underwater, couldn't traverse hundreds of thousands of light-years in an instant...
But in the virtual universe, as long as you spent money, you could do anything.
Here, there were worlds like *Avatar*, *Warcraft*, *Naruto*...
Here, you could fall in love with movie protagonists, experience every game level firsthand, and adventure through animated storylines...
That's why so many people were endlessly hooked, sinking in and unable to pull themselves out, spending day and night inside, forgetting to rest.
As an old saying from ancient Earth put it, these were the "cultivation fanatics," the kind about to ascend to immortality.
To prevent people from losing their ambition, becoming shut-ins, and neglecting real life, humanity had a law called the Virtual Ban.
Anyone who stayed online in the virtual universe for more than six consecutive hours in a single session, or a cumulative total of twelve hours, would be forcibly logged out and couldn't log back in for a day. This was to prevent addiction.
Most people applauded this, but for the cultivation fanatics, it was like a heavenly tribulation—some even nicknamed it the "Tribulation Ban."
Feng Lin had to move quickly.
Normally, he could just open his personal system interface, input the coordinates and info of his destination, and it would be done—very convenient.
But he found that no matter how he inputted, nothing responded.
Just as he was wondering why, a grating mechanical voice sounded beside him, repeating endlessly.
"Please create a virtual ID!" "Please create a virtual ID!" "Please create a virtual ID!"...
Feng Lin chuckled at himself. How foolish—he'd forgotten that first-time users needed a screen name.
He thought for a moment, then hesitantly said, "Wukong?"
"Virtual ID successfully registered. Wukong, welcome to the virtual universe!" the virtual universe's optical brain announced in his ear.
"..." Feng Lin was speechless. He hadn't expected it to work on the first try.
His path of genetic cultivation was undoubtedly following the mythological path of Sun Wukong, so the name had come to him instinctively.
With billions of interstellar humans, as numerous as stars in the sky, picking a virtual ID wasn't easy. It was like choosing a pen name on Qidian Chinese Network in the ancient Earth era—good ones were all taken, making it hard to find a new one. Some people tried dozens and still failed, ending up with names like "I Don't Eat Tomatoes," "Dong Chen," "Sky-Eating Potatoes"...
He'd just given it a shot, never expecting it to work. Talk about luck... tsk tsk...
It was unexpected yet reasonable.
After all, mythology had been lost. The legend of the Great Sage Sun had long been forgotten by humanity, and no one understood the meaning behind those two characters anymore.
A virtual ID in the virtual universe could only be chosen once, bound for life, and couldn't be changed. Everyone was cautious, never picking names carelessly. Who'd have thought Feng Lin would snag such a bargain?
Landing this virtual ID felt like a stroke of luck to Feng Lin, boosting his confidence for the upcoming interview.
"X: 263527; Y: 678883; Z: 1312321!" Following the interview file sent by Giant Pharmaceuticals, Feng Lin input the coordinates.
The next moment, his vision blurred, and his figure shattered into starlight on the spot, vanishing into thin air.
After an indeterminate distance of teleportation, a stream of data appeared like scattered starlight, reassembling into Feng Lin's form.
A massive planet loomed before him, slowly rotating. In its orbit, a cluster of moon-like satellites circled, forming four characters: "Giant Pharmaceuticals!"
This was Giant Pharmaceuticals' territory in the virtual universe.
Though the virtual universe's space wasn't as vast as the real world, it still cost money to buy.
For Giant Pharmaceuticals to occupy an entire planet—that was quite the bold move.
Feng Lin descended slowly, and a curvaceous OL woman swayed over, her long legs striding in a catwalk, golden hair and blue eyes, her gaze seductive and alluring—a true bombshell.
"Are you Mr. Feng Lin, here for the interview? Please follow me!" Feng Lin hadn't hidden his true appearance. The stunning OL gave him a once-over, smiled sweetly and flirtatiously, then turned and led the way, her round hips swaying.
Feng Lin took a deep breath and followed behind her.