Extra (1): Administrator’s daily routine

As soon as Version 1 was updated, countless players flooded into the player forum. Every player saw the lines sent by the system immediately, since the announcement wasn’t just colorfully highlighted, it was also pinned in the world channel.

News about players clearing stages with high scores was all buried under this message — the system had clearly pinned it across the entire game.

They doubted what they were seeing with their own eyes. Some people even rubbed their eyes over and over again.

The quick-fingered players immediately started discussion threads on the game forum.

#Let’s talk about the newly appointed TX admin — is he really not the secret child of the Gods’ Game?!#

1st Floor: Reserving this spot, I’m fast so I’ll speak first. Turns out I wasn’t the only one who saw that message. I thought I was hallucinating in a dream. I just slapped myself — my face is swollen now.

2nd Floor: That’s physical swelling. You think there are only a few people here who’ve been slapped down by this forum? Someone previously even swore up and down that TX was dead.

3rd Floor: It’s “Gods’ Game,” not “SM Game.” Don’t use random abbreviations — eyeroll. At first glance, this looked like some inappropriate thread.

4th Floor: Gods’ Game isn’t all that proper either, is it? Bloody, violent, and dark. If we were using the old real-world rating system, it’d easily be 18+. No, wait — 21+. Actually, make that 24+. After all, fresh college grads are still kind of naive. If you come into this game without some street smarts, you’ll get wrecked. It forces your mind to mature real fast.

5th Floor: Don’t say that. Times have changed. The outside world is lacking in everything. Getting in early gives you an advantage. I mean, even if you’re over 18, you can’t go to college anymore, so you might as well enter the game and take your beating from society early. Besides, some people don’t even get the chance to join. I have this feeling that someday, Gods’ Game players will be the elite — everyone will be dreaming of getting in.

This 5th Floor comment was later repeatedly brought back to the top after the forum was restructured to allow direct replies to floor owners. It was treated as a “prophecy post.” But honestly, it wasn’t really a prophecy. Less than a year had passed, and anyone perceptive could already tell the world outside was changing drastically.

If the pollution kept worsening and more dangerous creatures emerged in reality, and if the Gods’ Game became more deeply integrated with the real world, then that trend would be inevitable.

6th Floor: Am I the only one curious what the newly added “administrator” role in Gods’ Game actually does? And about the top-ranking player — does this count as beating the game? Did he choose to become an admin, or can anyone become one after clearing the game?

This floor, once more posts followed, was often copied and pasted by new players in later threads:

“You’re overthinking it. After all these years, he’s still the only administrator.”

“You’re overthinking it. If you clear the game, you can choose to exit — no need to risk staying with some leftover abilities and forum privileges. But becoming an admin? Don’t even think about it.”

Later, there were always plenty of posts speculating about why Tan Xiao became the administrator. One theory was that he was simply too outstanding — he was ranked first. In games, the number one player usually gets some kind of special reward, something unique. If everyone could get it just by reaching first place, it wouldn’t be special.

Another widely circulated theory was that the game definitely had some kind of secret backdoor deal with the administrator. Of course, no one dared discuss those gossip-filled posts within the Gods’ Game forum itself, because the threads would get locked — and more importantly, you could get temporarily banned for “slandering Gods’ Game.” The shortest ban was one day, the longest up to a month.

People only discussed it in private; on public platforms, they used all kinds of vague codenames and abbreviations. After all, the sole administrator of the Gods’ Game carried far too much weight — comparable to the leader of a base, or rather, even more influential than one.

7F: Yeah, what does the administrator do on a daily basis? @Tan Xiao, top-ranking boss, could you come out and say something?

Even though Tan Xiao was no longer at the top after becoming the administrator, those who later reached the top were still respected by the majority. But because of Tan Xiao’s legendary status, in everyone’s hearts, he remained the true number one.

A bunch of replies @-ed Tan Xiao on that post, and eventually, the thread was locked for going off-topic.

As the newly appointed administrator, Tan Xiao naturally saw this high-flying thread. In fact, it was he himself who locked the post for derailing.

He actually considered showing up right away, maybe posting a reply right under the 7F to assert his presence.

But after thinking it over, he felt it wasn’t necessary — his presence was already strong enough. More importantly, he had just taken up the post; as an administrator, there was no need to get too chummy with players, or else he’d end up more like customer service than a manager.

Of course, there was another important reason — he didn’t really understand what he was supposed to do yet. At this stage, the public didn’t know much about the role of the administrator.

The people on the real-world side, however, were great at imagining things — for example, maybe administrators had special permissions. Could they help players bring more items out of the game? Could they open backdoors?

But Tan Xiao coldly and decisively shut down those fantasies. He didn’t have that power — and even if he did, he wouldn’t use it lightly. There would definitely be limits to such operations. Just because he had the power didn’t mean he could abuse it.

Besides, the administrator’s code came with many restrictions. Tan Xiao wasn’t willing to take risks and test the rules just to fulfill other people’s selfish desires.

However, years later, when Tan Xiao was casually browsing the forum, he saw that a new feature had been added allowing direct replies to specific posts. When he came across that thread again, it stirred many feelings. He unlocked the post and left a comment directly under 7F:

— Thanks for the mention. The daily work of a game administrator is actually quite simple: mainly improving the players’ gaming experience, collecting problems, solving problems, maintaining the game’s regular operations, clearing bugs, and occasionally going on field assignments to handle imbalanced instances. That’s all.

This idle old thread, dormant for years, was instantly pushed to the hot list and became the post with the highest reply count.

“What a line — ‘that’s all.’ Invisible flex, absolutely lethal.”

The rest were all neat and uniform:

“Successfully spotted a wild, living admin.”

“First-row check-in, photo for the memories.”

 …

Apart from a few emotional comments at the top, all the rest followed the same formation:

“Photo for the memories.”

“Photo for the memories.”

The topic returned to the administrator himself.

After Tan Xiao introduced Wen Yi to his parents and left behind some supplies to improve their quality of life, he returned to the system space with his lover and Xiao Bai.

He brought with him photo albums from his past, as well as various trophies and awards from his school years, all properly preserved.

In their shared bedroom, they bought a glass display case. Wen Yi sat on the sofa and carefully wiped the dust off the copied items one by one, polishing the trophies until they gleamed, and arranged them neatly in the cabinet at evenly spaced intervals.

This was Tan Xiao’s precious past, worthy of being treasured.

His movements were gentle, while beside him, Tan Xiao began handling his new administrative duties.

His email contained a string of messages from the system: the administrator-exclusive app, his administrator account and initial password, and a list of administrative permissions.

The Gods’ Game had its own system, host, and management — but that manager was clearly non-human, always giving off a weird and uncomfortable vibe.

Tan Xiao’s position was as that entity’s assistant, tasked with handling game bugs and fieldwork. To put it in real-world terms: the original admin was more of a desk job — planning and programming. Tan Xiao was in patrol and after-sales maintenance — a technical role.

As for his lover Wen Yi, he was considered a family member and support plugin of the maintenance staff, responsible for giving Tan Xiao strong external support and keeping his emotions stable, to prevent him from being corrupted during fieldwork.

That was the official explanation — in reality, the game wanted Tan Xiao to keep the unofficial personnel stable.

Gods’ Game: Pay one salary, get two people working, and also keep that highly destructive bug stable — no instance collapse, a total win-win.

Of course, Tan Xiao’s salary was actually quite high. With administrative privileges, he could save a lot on self-upgrades. Any excess materials he obtained, he sold cheaply in the real world — to ordinary people and the weak, under his administrator identity.

When poor, focus on self-cultivation; when prosperous, help the world. Since he didn’t need so many materials himself, he was willing to offer them to those in desperate need.

He outsourced that part of the operation to Xiao Bai, who, being completely immune to greed, ensured Tan Xiao’s kindness wouldn’t end up fattening the greedy.

Since this was a job, he naturally asked about the benefits. The administrator position was listed as “flexible hours, work at your own pace.” After some negotiation, Tan Xiao successfully secured a six-day work week with one day off, plus the right to visit his family.

After all, while his parents were still alive, he definitely intended to visit them from time to time. The extra leave was meant for spending time with them.

In fact, when it came to the real work of an administrator, the most widely accepted explanation on the forum wasn’t Tan Xiao’s brief reply years later, but rather a post made by a player who had been in the same instance with him after his first field mission as an admin.

It was a several-thousand-word long post made by a player ranked in the top twenty on the leaderboard.

[Fake Administrator Daily Life VS Real Administrator Daily Life]