Woke Up to Find the Game I Made Came True-Chapter 132

"Mission Zone, Trading Zone, Exchange Zone…"

A virtual interface, strikingly similar to the Stellar Alliance's personal terminal yet vastly different in content, materialized within Ye Bai's consciousness.

After a quick glance, Ye Bai enveloped the terminal entirely with her psychic energy, immediately focusing her attention on its alarm and external signal functions. The terminal returned no feedback.

This outcome surprised her.

Under complete psychic isolation, such a result could only mean one of two things: either the terminal lacked these functions entirely, or its alarm signals were so advanced and covert that they could bypass her psychic blockade.

To test this, Ye Bai shifted her focus to the sections related to account and identity information.

Just like the Stellar Alliance terminal, the details surfaced effortlessly at her mental command.

Port ID: #0000343242452

Balance: 321 credits

The sight of these details—especially the lingering "balance" of what was clearly some form of virtual currency—sent a jolt through Ye Bai.

Unlike the Stellar Alliance's terminals, this one was unmistakably in a "logged-in" state.

In the Stellar Alliance, each person's psychic signature acted as a unique account. Even if a terminal was lost or stolen, using it would simply create a new account, leaving the original owner's assets untouched.

But when Ye Bai's psychic energy touched this jade-like terminal, it didn’t generate a new account. Instead, it displayed the previous user’s identity and assets.

Realizing this, her expression turned subtly strange.

The fact that she could access both identity information and, more importantly, the balance ruled out the possibility of anti-theft measures. If such safeguards existed, the terminal should have triggered an alarm and wiped the account data the moment her psychic energy made contact.

In other words, this terminal from the lawless Chaos Star Sector seemed to operate on an anonymous account system. The device itself wasn’t just a tool—it was a wallet. Whoever held it owned everything inside.

Well, well. Typical Chaos Star Sector. Without the Stellar Alliance’s orderly identity protection systems, people here clearly dealt in cold, hard "cash." freeweɓnovēl.coɱ

Ye Bai had expected a long, arduous journey of exploration ahead. Instead, her mysterious pursuer had practically handed her their wallet.

It was now obvious that the previous owner of this terminal was none other than the shadowy figure who’d been hunting her.

With this confirmation, most of her tension dissolved. She turned her attention back to the terminal’s other functions.

Mission Zone, Trading Zone, Exchange Zone… Ye Bai explored them one by one.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍Mission Zone was self-explanatory but disappointingly empty, offering no useful information.

Frowning, she opened the Trading Zone—and was met with an overwhelming flood of content.

"Resource Trade—10 Helium-Flash Particles, 30 credits."

"Assassination Contract—Target: B-rank. Includes detailed background and weaknesses. Price: 500 credits."

"Intel Trade—Environmental Survey Report for ΩVR2 Star Zone (Cosmic Coordinates 23.232.11). Price: 200 credits."

Thousands of listings, covering every imaginable type of transaction, filled the space. Some were offers to sell, others requests to buy. Even as Ye Bai watched, tasks vanished as they were accepted, while new ones popped up in their place. The activity was frenetic.

This seemed to be the Chaos Star Sector’s underground networking hub for outlaws…

More intriguingly, the platform’s connection was extraordinary. Despite being encased in Ye Bai’s psychic energy, the terminal remained "online."

Its sophistication rivaled the Stellar Network itself… Wait. A spark of realization struck her.

Was this actually using Stellar Network technology?

The more she considered it, the more plausible it seemed. The Stellar Network wasn’t built by any single faction. Its essence was the enigmatic Floaters, and the Stellar Alliance had merely hacked one access point.

Little was known about the Chaos Star Sector outside its borders. As a "lawless zone" that even the Stellar Alliance couldn’t tame, its survival implied formidable backing. It made perfect sense that they’d have alternate ways to tap into the Stellar Network’s resources.

Shaking off the tangent, Ye Bai refocused and used the filter function to pull up the original owner’s transaction history.

Dozens of completed deals appeared: 23 assassination contracts, 44 intel trades, 39 resource exchanges…

The records showed both purchases and sales, with the complexity escalating over time. The assassination targets climbed from C-rank all the way up to—her breath hitched—an A-rank powerhouse eliminated just five years ago.

The earliest entries dated back three to four centuries. Piecing them together, Ye Bai could trace the shadowy figure’s rise to power.

The timeline also reminded her of her own recent transformation. Now a B-rank psychic, her lifespan had expanded dramatically—at least fivefold compared to before, putting her minimum at five centuries.

And that was the baseline. With life-extension tech and bio-modifications, that number could double.

Somehow, without realizing it, she’d become what her past self would’ve considered an outright immortal. She’d killed an A-rank psychic who’d lived for centuries.

Yet mere months ago, before entering the Ten Thousand Worlds, she’d been nothing more than an F-rank ancient human from Blue Star.

"Haah…"

Exhaling softly, she spotted another detail in the transaction logs: the mysterious figure had consistently operated under a single alias—Black Hole.

If this was their sole identity, "Black Hole" might carry significant weight in the Chaos Star Sector’s underworld.

The trading data also clarified the "credits" balance. Clearly a currency like Stellar Coins, but far more potent—given that killing a B-rank was priced at just 600 credits.

Finally, she opened the last section: the Exchange Zone.

Given the credits now at her disposal, the possibilities here were tantalizing.

"Exchange" was not the same as a transaction—this description implied the existence of a certain force or background capable of providing unilateral support for such exchanges. Additionally, the currently blank mission zone piqued Ye Bai's curiosity about the faction behind the task postings.

In the next moment, the contents of the exchange zone appeared before Ye Bai.

Upon seeing them, her entire body stiffened. Even though she had vaguely suspected it before, witnessing it firsthand still left her mind momentarily blank.

The exchange zone displayed rows of items, arranged much like a typical shopping page in the Stellar Alliance.

However, these were not physical goods—they were technologies, each one fantastical even by the standards of this interstellar era.

As Ye Bai focused on them, each technology automatically expanded to reveal detailed descriptions and effects. She scrutinized them one by one, recognizing many that seemed unheard of even in the Stellar Alliance—clearly far more advanced.

From the detailed descriptions, she even identified the technologies used by the mysterious figure 'Black Hole' to capture her.

Galactic-Level Civilization Alarm Bypass (10 minutes) — 10 points… This had breached the alarm system of the Illusory Sea Civilization, allowing Black Hole to operate with complete technical 'invisibility' within a one-kilometer radius around Ye Bai's residence.

Formless Mimicry — 60 points… A shape-shifting disguise technology that kept Black Hole's appearance blurred and ever-shifting in Ye Bai's eyes.

Short-Range Micro-Wormhole — 100 points, Mid-Range Micro-Wormhole — 200 points, Long-Range Micro-Wormhole — 400 points… These needed no explanation, though she couldn’t tell which one Black Hole had used.

And finally, the answer to the question that had plagued Ye Bai the most—how Black Hole had found her.

Among the most expensive technologies listed at the bottom was one priced at 1,000 points: [Individual Bio-Location]. With nothing more than a target's complete appearance or a sample of their biological tissue, this technology could pinpoint their exact cosmic coordinates.

According to the details, the tracking lasted for ten minutes. If the target moved within that window, the coordinates would update in real time.

Clearly, the enigmatic Black Hole had used their points to purchase this, then combined it with a micro-wormhole to travel directly to Ye Bai’s doorstep on Oceanus.

Ye Bai took a deep breath. She had uncovered how Black Hole had accomplished all this—but the revelation only spawned more questions.

The technological prowess showcased in the exchange zone far surpassed that of the Stellar Alliance. A galactic-level alarm bypass cost a mere 10 points. The strategic value of micro-wormholes was undeniable, and the bio-location tech was even more staggering.

Used together, these could effortlessly assassinate key figures across interstellar civilizations or guarantee invincibility in warfare.

Both the exchange and mission systems hinted at a powerful backing force behind them.

Yet if such a force existed in the lawless reaches of space, why did it remain confined to a corner of the universe? Why hadn’t it replaced the Stellar Alliance? Did the Alliance possess hidden defenses unknown to the public? Or was there another reason for this faction’s secrecy?

The technologies in the exchange zone left Ye Bai reeling—especially the bio-location. She couldn’t fathom the principles behind it. To her programmer’s mind, it almost felt… as if this world had a built-in cheat code.

On the desolate planet, Ye Bai fell into a long silence.

Though she had now become a B-grade psychic—a force to be reckoned with anywhere—she felt the same disorientation as when she first awoke from cryostasis and heard Aurora recount the upheavals of the past ten millennia.

Through this personal terminal, Ye Bai’s understanding of the universe had been upended once more. Only now did she feel she had lifted the veil obscuring the truth of this world.