Chapter 965: Permissions of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 965: Permissions of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds
Personal Game Terminal permissions: Logged in.
This was the fundamental reason I was able to come here.
A Game Architect can banish a player from a game, but they cannot force a player to completely exit the Terminal of Myriad Worlds.
Unless... they forcibly reclaim the device permissions. That is the only way to trigger a forced logout.
However, the permissions that were already granted are now under the control of my Order. Consequently, they have no way to evict me.
If I were an ordinary hacker or account thief, I wouldn't even dare to clash with the Terminal. Once locked onto, the Terminal can force a target to restart their account from scratch.
This was why the Game Architects were so panicked when they first entered the virtual space; it was their first time encountering such a "brazen" hacker.
In the context of the game world, the concept of a "hacker" refers specifically to those groups who steal permissions from the Terminal of Myriad Worlds and use them to create "banned accounts."
They are the players with the highest level of technical skill in this world.
To be a hacker, one needs not only top-tier gaming skills but also a massive logistics team and advanced information processing technology.
It is virtually impossible for a hacker to work alone. A single person cannot support the entire process of permission theft. Only resistance forces can assemble teams to raid the virtual space, using special methods and interface simulations to disrupt the virtual Order and create vulnerabilities.
The first firewall—those virtual, single-player games with no entry barriers—serves as a natural line of defense.
Even bottom-layer players who cannot participate in the harvests of the real world can rely on their sheer numbers within these virtual games to pose a significant obstacle to these hackers.
One could say that within the Terminal of Myriad Worlds, there is no such thing as a "useless" game. Even a virtual single-player title serves to maintain the Terminal's permissions. It’s just that... the average player is unaware of this.
As for this sudden "Temporary World Boss" event...
It was triggered because I broke through the defenses of those virtual games in an instant.
Their gameplay was utterly worthless against my "cheats"!
As my understanding of the Order within the virtual space deepened, so did the progress of my intrusion into the Terminal.
The Game Architects were forced to adjust special mechanisms to counter this leap in my time-limited progress.
This mechanism left the players staring in disbelief.
Every minute, countless players were cursing the game designers, asking if they were designing the game with their feet!
What kind of World Boss has a mechanic that forcibly reduces the kill-time limit? The original time wasn't even enough, and now they pull this?
The Game Architects clearly didn't want them to get the World Boss rewards!
There were tens of thousands of people here!
With such a massive crowd using human-wave tactics, the Game Architects eventually had to consider the impact on the game's reputation.
Initially, the confrontation was handled internally by the Game Architects' own staff. It was only when they realized they were outmatched that they opened the channel to players.
From hundreds to thousands, then tens of thousands...
What next? A hundred thousand? A million?
No, that wouldn't work. It would be meaningless, and the impact of having a million players in one spot would be catastrophic for the game's stability.
Even if the Game Architects didn't care about the players, there had to be a limit to the absurdity.
Besides, even with ten thousand players online, they were being mowed down like grass—one batch dying right after another. Increasing the player cap was pointless.
"Apply for higher permissions!"
The man in charge of the Game Architects spoke these words and slowly closed his eyes. His career path had reached its end.
The permissions of the Game Architects were fixed, or rather, the permissions of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds followed a law of "conservation." If he wanted to exercise higher authority, it would inevitably affect the progress of other games.
This situation was similar to when the Dungeon space domain was released during the conquest of Calamity Witch.
And that had been released across two different worlds.
That single mobilization of permissions had caused progress in many games to stagnate, and some had even regressed. The impact of that massive operation had not fully dissipated even now.
The same would likely happen this time...
After all, they were facing the Calamity Witch!
She was the one who had broken through the Dungeon space domain last time. If they couldn't apply for equivalent permissions now, nothing else would matter.
While the Game Architects on the front lines of the firewall were agonizing, an emergency meeting was convened at the Supreme Council.
Because it was so rushed, less than half of the twenty-two-member council was present in person. The rest appeared in forms similar to player avatars.
The issue they were discussing was this forceful intrusion into the Terminal of Myriad Worlds.
Based on the images and reports sent back from the front lines, they had confirmed the intruder's identity: the Calamity Witch!
That character who caused them endless headaches.
She had already brought them immense trouble during the Calamity Witch conquest. Now that her main body had arrived in their world, she was a constant source of anxiety, making them restless day and night.
Specifically, knowing her method of "killing people offline via the internet" had forced them into a deeper alliance with the wizard apprentices.
The wizards' demands were simple: they wanted the Terminal of Myriad Worlds. However, they couldn't provide an equivalent Tech Core in exchange, and they were stubborn about that point.
Word was that the shattered Tech Core had already fallen entirely into the hands of the Witch...
"This Calamity Witch is simply going too far!"
"Exactly... couldn't she just stay quietly in Igesuo Surface City?"
"Could it be because we've been harassing them too much, and this is her retaliation?"
"Too much? She killed our people! Are we the ones who should be reflecting on our actions?"
After that remark, the room fell silent for a few seconds.
"But where did the Calamity Witch learn intrusion techniques? This method is so aggressive; we've never seen anything like it."
"The Real Protection Association. Don't they have hackers?"
"Their technology couldn't possibly be this powerful. We've seen the Association's tech; it's not worth worrying about."
"The Calamity Witch's methods are eerie and unpredictable. We can't judge her by our logic. Most likely, she learned the techniques from hackers and combined them with her own power to make a show of force!"
"Damn it! Does she really think she's omnipotent? We must strike back with lightning force! This cannot happen a second time!"
"Stopping her is a necessity. At this rate, the Calamity Witch won't stop until she hits a wall."
"Do all of you only know how to talk big? Do you have any idea what it will cost to stop her? Have you already forgotten the pain from the last shockwave?"
At that moment, a woman's voice, filled with indignation, questioned everyone present.
It was indeed a grave issue. Otherwise, they wouldn't have talked in circles without mentioning the actual solution.
After all, whoever suggested a plan would be default-responsible for it. If you can't solve it, why bring it up?
Now that the problem had been shoved forcefully in their faces, no one spoke.
Did they have a way?
No. The price had to be paid, but who would take the blame... that was the question.
The Supreme Council had enjoyed smooth sailing for too long, to the point where this supreme organization that decided the fate of worlds was filled with indecisive softies.
Of course, it wasn't that they couldn't make decisions, but rather that no single person sitting there could decide the direction of an entire interest group.
An interest group wouldn't take the fall for a single person's impulsive decision.
As long as death didn't directly threaten their lives, the game of interests and exchanges would not change.
This wasn't stupidity; it was a form of wisdom—the "absolutely correct" choice based on the experience and world perception they had accumulated since birth.
People with different worldviews cannot communicate. Perhaps one day, when a blade is at their throats, they will only frantically ask how much money it costs to buy back their lives.
* * *
Back in the virtual space.
As my understanding of Order grew deeper, I could see the stagnant thinking of these self-proclaimed Game Architects more clearly.
Their use of permissions had reached a level that was... almost indescribable.
It was like when I used to face those students who could only cast spells by following a spellbook.
Except they were wielding the Order of a prototype domain.
If it were my domain Order, I would never give an opponent the time or opportunity to understand my internal Order, let alone let them adapt to and master it!
As their Order shifted once again...
The weapon templates I had shaped using virtual pixels shattered instantly, giving the players a momentary breather.
"How foolish! 172! Haha... only 172 permission changes and you're already at your wit's end?"
I mocked them ruthlessly.
This was their 173rd permission change. As the combat platforms I had simulated collapsed, I matched the new change instantly.
This variation was similar to the 76th change, just with some self-deceiving derivations.
Yes, I admit their frequent shifts interrupted my use of their Order, but so what?
Once my adaptability became faster than their switching speed, it was the beginning of their total defeat!
This time was different from before. The advantage brought by rapid adaptation and understanding caught them completely off guard.
They had expected a few minutes of downtime, but after only a dozen seconds, the overwhelming combat platforms deployed once again!
If it weren't for the fact that area-of-effect weapons like tactical nukes were banned across the board, I could have given them a real show.
Unfortunately, they had foreseen the disadvantage of nuclear weapons and banned them before I could officially start using them.
Not just for me—they couldn't use them either.
This was the limitation of permissions. If they had dared to ban me unilaterally, with my current understanding of permissions, they wouldn't have been able to make it stick!
As the timer ticked down...
My cognition of this virtual space became even more profound.
So-called "permissions" are essentially the understanding and application of Order.
The Order of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds is essentially a power that has been deconstructed and then reconstructed.
Permissions are simply another way to use human will to influence that Order.
To use an analogy: Order is like an unruly mad dog. Deconstructing it is like taming or training it. Permissions are the collar and the leash.
Fundamentally, the person who tames (deconstructs) the mad dog (Order) has the ability to dominate it, while the leash (permissions) allows anyone to have the power to control it.
And what was I doing?
I was NTR-ing them—making the dog turn and bite its own master.
However, Order is much purer; it has no concept of "loyalty" to a master, let alone emotions.
"Game over."
When I spoke those words, the countdown the Game Architects had set up still had many seconds left, but it was useless. They weren't synced with me; how could they possibly know the exact state of my cognition?
Once I broke through here, everything else became meaningless. My permissions here were enough to confront these Game Architects head-on!
The virtual pixels that made up the scene gradually turned transparent.
As for the players...
After taking over the win/loss permissions, I forcibly kicked every single one of them offline!
Only the Game Architects remained. With their permissions, they could stay if they wished, but they could no longer stop what I was about to do.
As the pixels forming the scene dissipated, the so-called virtual space vanished as well. It felt as though I had entered a weightless void.
Passing through a pixelated barrier, I entered a brand-new "world."
The Myriad Worlds Space!
What is the core authority of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds?
It consists of three parts.
The permission to invade and harvest worlds—this is external.
The permission to operate and protect against hacking—this is internal.
The permission for grading and operational interfacing—this is artificial domination.
These three major domains can be further subdivided, but this is the general layout.
As an intruder, my primary goal was naturally plunder.
Of course, I wasn't plundering power, but permissions.
Using my clone as an anchor, my extended Order could not plunder power itself. Power cannot be stolen through permissions; that would be putting the cart before the horse.
After all, it is power that gives permissions their value and meaning.
Therefore, as a virtual intruder, to steal something meaningful and valuable, one can only seize permissions. Only permissions can be snatched in this way.
After all, we were all operating within the power framework of the Terminal of Myriad Worlds.
But there was one more thing I needed to be clear about.
How would I protect the permissions I seized?
I couldn't afford to spend all my energy and time inside the Terminal just to maintain a few permissions.
If I did that, the Game Architects would be laughing their heads off!
It would mean I was being tied down in the virtual space at zero cost to them.
Therefore, planning backdoors, hidden entrances, and vulnerabilities—setting up bugs at the cost of permissions—was far more important than simply seizing authority.
Lest we forget, this intrusion into the Terminal was merely an experiment.
It just so happened that this experiment was going exceptionally well.