The late summer air of Hangzhou clung like a damp, enthusiastic hug, thick with the scent of blossoming magnolias and the distant murmur of city traffic. Lin Wei, nineteen years old and feeling every single one of those years pressing down with the weight of expectation, hauled his worn duffel bag up the final flight of stairs to the fourth floor. Sweat slicked his brow, but a nervous excitement buzzed beneath his skin, a counterpoint to the familiar hum of the fluorescent lights in the dormitory hallway. This was it. Zhejiang University City College. His new beginning.
He found his door, 403, and pushed it open. The room was a standard, no-frills quad: four narrow beds, four desks, four wardrobes. Two of the beds were already claimed, their desks adorned with an explosion of personal effects – anime figures, a meticulously organized stack of textbooks, a miniature potted plant. Lin Wei picked the empty bed by the window, the one that offered a sliver of sky between the adjacent buildings. It felt like a good omen, a tiny sliver of freedom.
His first roommate, who introduced himself as Chen Hao, was a burly, good-natured young man from Sichuan. He was currently struggling to untangle a mess of charging cables, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Hey, you must be Lin Wei, right? From Jiangnan? Man, these wires are a nightmare. My phone's practically dead already." Chen Hao grinned, a wide, open smile that instantly put Lin Wei at ease. He seemed… uncomplicated.
The second roommate, Zhao Ming, was a stark contrast. He sat at his desk, back straight, eyes glued to a textbook. His hair was neatly parted, his clothes crisp, and a pair of sleek, noise-canceling headphones covered his ears. He offered a brief, almost imperceptible nod when Lin Wei entered, then returned to his studies. An air of intense focus, almost aloofness, emanated from him. Lin Wei instinctively felt a slight ripple of unease. He'd encountered people like Zhao Ming before – the quiet, high-achieving types who often viewed others as distractions.
After settling his meager belongings and making his bed, Lin Wei tried to strike up a conversation with Zhao Ming. "Hey, I'm Lin Wei. What major are you in?"
Zhao Ming slowly lowered his headphones, his eyes, dark and intelligent, fixing on Lin Wei. "Economics and Finance. You?" His voice was clear, measured.
"Literature and Media," Lin Wei replied, a touch of self-consciousness creeping in. His major often felt less "serious" than the high-flying finance programs. "Looking forward to classes."
Zhao Ming merely nodded, then raised his headphones again, a clear signal the conversation was over. Lin Wei felt a familiar pang of being dismissed, of not quite measuring up. He shrugged inwardly. It was just the first day. Plenty of other people to meet.
The next few days were a blur of orientation lectures, endless queues for registration, and forced ice-breaking games. Lin Wei found himself gravitating towards Chen Hao, whose boisterous energy and endless supply of local snacks made the transition less daunting. Chen Hao was already making friends in other dorms, his laughter echoing through the hallways. Zhao Ming, meanwhile, remained an enigma, a silent scholar whose desk light burned late into the night.
The first week of classes began. Lin Wei's literature lectures were engaging, his media studies fascinating, but the sheer volume of new information, the unfamiliar faces, and the subtle currents of campus hierarchy were overwhelming. Everyone seemed to have their clique already formed, their path laid out. Lin Wei felt like a small boat adrift in a vast, bustling harbor.
The real challenge came in the "Introduction to Chinese Society" course. Professor Li, a stern-faced woman with an intimidatingly sharp gaze, announced their first major assignment: a group presentation on "Social Mobility in Modern China." The groups were randomly assigned.
Lin Wei's heart sank when he saw the list. His group consisted of himself, Chen Hao (who immediately groaned), a seemingly perpetually bored girl named Xiao Ling who spent most of class scrolling on her phone, and, to his utter dread, Zhao Ming.
Their first group meeting was a disaster.
"Okay, so 'Social Mobility in Modern China,'" Lin Wei began, trying to sound proactive. "I was thinking we could focus on the impact of urbanization on education opportunities…"
Chen Hao nodded enthusiastically, but his input was limited to "Sounds good, Lin Wei!" or "Yeah, that's what I was thinking too!"
Xiao Ling, meanwhile, barely looked up from her phone. "Whatever. Just tell me what part to do."
Zhao Ming finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tentative suggestions. "That's too broad. And frankly, a bit cliché. Everyone will do urbanization. We need a unique angle. Perhaps the psychological impact of the gaokao on rural youth's long-term aspirations, or the intergenerational effects of wealth accumulation."
His suggestions were undoubtedly intelligent, insightful even, but his tone was dismissive, almost condescending. He made Lin Wei's idea sound amateurish, Chen Hao's agreement seem idiotic, and Xiao Ling's apathy even more pronounced.
"Well," Lin Wei stammered, feeling his face flush. "Those are… very specific. And we have limited time for research."
"Then we adapt," Zhao Ming stated, his eyes narrowed. "If we aim for average, we will be average. And average is not a good grade for this course." He looked directly at Lin Wei, a silent challenge in his gaze. "I'm willing to do the bulk of the research, but I expect quality contributions from everyone. Don't waste my time."
He then proceeded to outline a detailed research plan, assigned specific tasks, and even set deadlines, all without once asking for input or consensus. It was less a collaboration and more a directive. Chen Hao looked overwhelmed. Xiao Ling just rolled her eyes and continued tapping on her screen. Lin Wei felt a hot knot of resentment twist in his gut. Zhao Ming wasn't just smart; he was arrogant, controlling, and somehow, deeply unsettling.
That night, lying in his bed, the shared dormitory dark except for the faint glow from Zhao Ming's desk lamp, Lin Wei stared at the ceiling. The pressure of the assignment, the tension within his group, and the feeling of inadequacy gnawed at him. He hated being dismissed. He hated feeling small. He wanted to understand Zhao Ming, to figure out what made him tick, how to counter his domineering presence without resorting to a direct, futile confrontation. He wanted… an edge.
The thought was fleeting, a desperate whisper in the silence. An edge. I just need to understand.
Suddenly, a strange sensation washed over him. It wasn't pain, but a prickling, almost electric surge behind his eyes, as if his brain was suddenly rebooting with new hardware. His head swam for a moment, and a low, resonant thrum vibrated through his consciousness.
Then, a voice.
It wasn't external, not a whisper in the room. It was internal, cold, clear, and perfectly articulated, as if a thought had simply coalesced into fully formed words within his mind.
[System Activated. Welcome, Host Lin Wei.]
Lin Wei gasped, a small, choked sound. He clamped a hand over his mouth, his heart hammering against his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them again. The room was the same. Zhao Ming's lamp still cast a faint glow. Chen Hao was snoring softly. Was he dreaming? Had the stress finally broken him?
[Scanning Host's current environment. Detecting primary psychological triggers: Envy (low), Frustration (moderate), Desire for Understanding (high), Sense of Inadequacy (moderate).]
The voice continued, utterly devoid of emotion, yet impossibly precise. Lin Wei bolted upright, his breath coming in ragged gasps. This wasn't a dream. This was… real.
[Initiating core function: Dark Psychology System. Purpose: To analyze, understand, and, if desired, manipulate the psychological landscape of human beings. Initial abilities calibrated to Host's current needs and environment.]
Lin Wei scrambled out of bed, fumbling for his phone. He turned on its flashlight, his hand trembling, and swept the beam around the room. Nothing. No hidden speakers, no strange devices. The voice was inside his head.
[First Mission: Analyze current psychological obstacle. Target: Zhao Ming.]
As the voice finished, a translucent blue interface flickered into existence at the very edge of his peripheral vision. It wasn't projected onto the wall, but seemed to float just beyond his eyes, like a highly advanced, augmented reality display that only he could see. It was minimalist, almost elegant, with crisp white text.
[Target: Zhao Ming (Dormitory 403)]
[Primary Emotion Detected: Ambition (High)]
[Underlying Desire: Validation (Extreme)]
[Primary Fear: Failure (Severe)]
[Psychological Vulnerability: Perfectionism (High), Social Isolation (Moderate)]
Lin Wei stared, transfixed. It was Zhao Ming's name, accompanied by a series of labels. He blinked. The interface remained. He focused on it, and the text seemed to sharpen, clearer than any screen.
Ambition. Validation. Failure. Perfectionism. Social Isolation.
It was like looking into Zhao Ming's soul, stripped bare. All the arrogance, the condescension, the aloofness… it suddenly made a chilling kind of sense. Zhao Ming wasn't just smart; he was desperate to prove it. He wasn't just controlling; he was terrified of anything that might compromise his path to "perfection." He wasn't just quiet; he was isolated by his own drive.
[Mission Progress: 100%. Psychological Data Acquired. Rewards: 10 Dark Psychology Points (DPP).]
[DPP: 10]
[New Function Unlocked: Lie Detector (Basic). Analysis of subtle tells in speech and body language. Requires direct observation.]
Lin Wei collapsed back onto his bed, not even realizing he was holding his breath until a shaky exhale escaped his lips. The interface faded slightly, becoming less prominent, but still there, a constant presence at the edge of his vision.
He had a cheat code. A terrifying, intrusive, utterly unbelievable cheat code that promised to lay bare the minds of everyone around him. And his first target, his first revelation, was the arrogant roommate he so desperately wanted to understand.
He looked over at Zhao Ming's sleeping form, the faint light from the desk lamp illuminating the sharp lines of his face. Lin Wei felt a strange mix of awe and a profound, chilling dread. The world had just become a completely different place. And he was holding the keys to its unseen strings.
He had no idea what this "Dark Psychology System" was, or why he had it. But one thing was clear: his life, and the lives of those around him, would never be the same. The game had just begun.