Author: 木尺素 / Mu Chisu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 164 

Virtual Game Hall A-711 was a semi-open instance that ordinary players of S-level and above, as well as high-level gamblers, could freely enter and leave. Not many had come today. Most inside were Zhou Qian’s gamblers, watching his situation in the sealed Blue Harbor City instance.

None of them imagined that the very hall they occupied would suddenly convert into a sealed dungeon, nor that their lives would end there, slain by Yuan Bing.

When Yuan Bing killed the last person in the instance he himself had created, that victim somehow clung to life for a breath, broke free of his NPC shell, and wrapped both arms around Yuan Bing’s leg. “H-How… how could this… W-Why?!”

Yuan Bing looked down at him with eyes devoid of feeling. “Back when you first joined up, you must have wondered why there was such a thing as a free lunch. But once, twice, a stroke of luck—when the money you pocketed climbed from a million to two, then three, you stopped doubting and decided you deserved it all.

“Unfortunately, you should have remembered the truth: 

“We gamblers are frogs in slowly-boiling water. If we don’t struggle, don’t attract notice, don’t get seen, we’re doomed.

“You people think that by clinging to some powerful player’s thigh you can enjoy riches and honor for life. But did you ever ask why anyone would give you so much money? I’m not like you. I did ask. I always performed well, so I won a chance you never had.”

With that, Yuan Bing’s blade flashed down and finished him.

Only then did the clear screen show and Yuan Bing left.

After surviving three trial instances, Yuan Bing was finally allowed to use the capsule that transformed the virtual hall, completing Priest’s order to kill every gambler.

He had just run four dungeons straight and was exhausted. When he saw Xie Huaying at the Peach Blossom’s base camp, he could hardly stand.

Though a player’s HP and MP refill on clearing, mental exhaustion still requires real rest.

“You killed eighteen people and claimed a sizeable territory,” Xie Huaying said. “Good work. Go back to reality and rest up.”

“Mm.” Yuan Bing did return to reality.

Yet as he turned away he failed to see the pity in Xie Huaying’s eyes.

Back home in his tiny loft, Yuan Bing did not rest. He took out his tablet and kept watching the game.

Although he had just cleared four instances, time inside the various dungeons didn’t run uniformly, and before a transfer the system always synchronized clocks.

Thus, on the tablet he dropped right back in at the moment Zhou Qian and Bai Zhou left the church roof and entered the hall.

……

Inside the game hall.

After Zhou Qian’s threat, almost everyone fell silent. Only Meng Bie voiced an objection.

Zhou Qian gave him a languid glance. “Tell me, if we really fought them, would three bullets versus one change anything?”

Meng Bie: “No… at most we vent on three of them, but we’d still die. Firing solves nothing. Just holding bullets makes us a constant threat in their eyes…”

“Exactly. With only three rounds, our situation can’t get worse. But if I empty those rounds right before their faces, the disadvantage flips to advantage.

“Especially with Xu Yang. He and I bear no grudge. If he’s not stupid, once he’s sure I can’t hit back, the thing he’ll focus on is Peach Blossom, not me.

“When they’ve burned each other’s ammo…”

Zhou Qian turned to Bai Zhou. “None of them can beat you, right? Then the field is ours.”

For quite some time Zhou Qian went nowhere. He truly stayed in the church.

He was hardly idle, though; first hearing Bai Zhou, Yin Jiujiu and the others report their scouting, memorized each newcomer’s face, and recruited them all into the Invincible Legion left to him by Wu Ren.

After talking with everyone, while piecing together the various information on the killers in his mind, Zhou Qian glanced pensively at the system panel on his left wrist.

Seeing his look, Bai Zhou asked, “What is it?”

Zhou Qian said, “My gamblers keep increasing. They don’t give useful advice. Mostly ‘Go, Qian Ge! You’re the best!’ Stuff like that.”

“A tactic like mine just now would usually trigger a flood of those rainbow fart comments. But for a while there I got nothing. Thinking about it… Zhou Ge, did all my gamblers die? In this game, what could kill so many gamblers at once?”

Bai Zhou was silent for a bit, then said, “When I first entered this game I’d never heard of gamblers. Even ordinary players had none. Gamblers have existed only about a year.”

Hearing this, Zhou Qian mused, “So if ‘gambler’ isn’t a system feature, then someone added it.”

“But what kind of person can rewrite the system itself and introduce gamblers?”

“Remember Last Wish? Someone altered that instance, inserted himself, resurrected the corpses of dead S-ranks, and merged them into a creature he controlled.”

“I do. I’d have died if you hadn’t saved me.” Zhou Qian understood.

This game held countless bizarre items. He had already seen an item that rewrote a dungeon; why not one that could rewrite the entire system?

“When you left Purple Mist Mountain, I met Priest. Through an item, of course.

Zhou Qian continued, “He called the game a ‘box’ gods left in the human world. Someone opened that box and entered… I used to think each dungeon was authored by some nasty individual with a taste for certain gimmicks.

“But the further I went, the less sense that made. The sheer number of instances is vast. Who could design so many?”

“My thought exactly. A few dungeons bear traces of handcraft under special items, but the system and the bulk of instances cannot be the work of a single human.” Bai Zhou said.

“Is it really designed by God? But…” Zhou Qian thought for a while and said, “Every dungeon’s story hides metaphor. The Apple Paradise instance literally tells of God’s departure. If God is gone, how do we explain all the tech and modern elements?”

Under the stained-glass dome Bai Zhou’s eyes shone faintly with shifting colors as he looked at Zhou Qian. “In my seven years inside, the game map has kept expanding and the elements of the instances grows richer. I haven’t set foot in reality in the past seven years, yet I see their elements of brand-new broadcast TV series or books appear inside the dungeons.”

Zhou Qian grew solemn. “You’re saying the game is watching the world, recording it, and instantly converting what it observes into dungeons?”

“Exactly,” Bai Zhou said. “Or put differently: the game learns and evolves.”

A picture sprang into Zhou Qian’s mind…

In ancient times the gods left a game box on earth. The box was their trial for humankind: clear its dungeons, reach a certain point, and you become a god or obtain a path to the world of gods.

The box was no inert thing. It roamed the world, absorbing millennia of history, culture, legends, strange tales.

It spontaneously created or updated dungeons, blending in all it had seen.

From five thousand years of Chinese history alone it could spin off endless instances, not to mention knowledge from across the globe.

Zhou Qian narrowed his eyes and sat down on the ground hugging his knees. He rested his chin on the back of his had as he gazed up at Bai Zhou. “I’ve always thought those ‘ancient gods’…the snake-tailed Nüwa, the nine-headed Xiangliu, might have been aliens. Their forms differed because their genes did.

“They visited Earth, maybe helped its people, then left…leaving the box behind. Call it an AI core, self-learning, self-evolving.

“And the so-called path to the world of gods? Maybe just coordinates one alien race left for its kin.”

He blinked a few times and added, “The dungeon traits are distinctive; the designer’s personality shows. So if an AI runs it, it’s one with a strong character.”

Though Zhou Qian guessed the origin of this game, all this remained conjecture. It was useless to think about it right now as they had pressing matters at hand.

After thinking for a while, he said, “Priest talked of creating Hell. If all those missing gamblers are dead… could they have gone to that Hell?”

Just then a “Yip!” sounded and Zhou Qian looked up and saw Gao Shan appeared, holding the little dragon.

“You two are drained,” Zhou Qian told them. “Go rest.”

The dragon “yip-ed” again and pointed upward.

Zhou Qian looked up and was delighted to see there was no one up there.

Gao Shan said, “I checked, and it is really empty.”

“Good work.” Zhou Qian took the dragon, stroked its head, shot Bai Zhou a smile, and asked it, “While I was gone, did you listen to Daddy?”

The dragon glanced at Bai Zhou, blinked, then nodded vigorously at Zhou Qian. “Rrm!”

He patted its tiny head. “What a good boy. Always listen to Daddy.”

“Mm… Rrm.” the dragon whispered.

Zhou Qian teased, “But if Daddy and I disagree, who do you obey?”

Before the dragon could answer, Bai Zhou’s hand pressed Zhou Qian’s shoulder and he spoke first. “We won’t disagree.”

Satisfied, Zhou Qian turned the dragon back into a scale and stored Gao Shan in the Rib of God.

With a glance to Bai Zhou, they climbed back to the roof.

Along the way, many newcomers who’d doubted him, Meng Bie among them, now eyed Zhou Qian differently.

He paid it little heed, only had Bai Zhou carry him up.

Inside below, Yin Jiujiu couldn’t sit still. She followed, stepping on the stained glass. “What’s happening?”

Head down, Zhou Qian searched as if for something.

He said, “Since Feidu and Peach Blossom aren’t cooperating, if you were Xu Yang, wouldn’t you try to ally with me?”

“Possibly,” Yin Jiujiu answered.

“Exactly. So I’m checking whether he left a hint,” Zhou Qian said.

Sure enough, he soon found what he wanted.

Beneath the eaves where Xu Yang had been stood a brick discreetly scratched with “One hour later, Merlin.”

“Will you meet him yourself or send someone?” Yin Jiujiu asked uneasily.

Zhou Qian didn’t reply. Instead he walked to the opposite side, the spot where Peach Blossom had stood.

“Peach Blossom won’t bargain with you. They want you dead,” Yin Jiujiu said.

“A normal member from Peach Blossom won’t. But the mole might.”

“Hold on. If that mole’s from Peach Blossom, why leave two separate messages, one each side? Why not just one?” Yin Jiujiu asked.

“If I don’t find another mark, the mole might simply be Feidu’s plant. But if I do, then we adjust: Peach Blossom does have a mole who fed intel to Feidu, but whether that mole was sent by Feidu is another matter,” Zhou Qian answers.

“The reason is simple. Think: the dungeon’s ‘max head-count’ probably isn’t tiny, or Peach Blossom wouldn’t bring so many elites. Why then did Feidu know nothing of such a key rule and come ready to slaughter all non-cores?”

“So… there’s a third party?” Yin Jiujiu ventured. “Someone from another legion set Feidu up to make Peach Blossom and Feidu kill each other?”

That was exactly Zhou Qian’s suspicion.

As for that third party, the one he suspected most was Shao Chuan, the man behind Bai Zhou.

He and Bai Zhou exchanged a knowing glance but said no more. Quickly Zhou Qian bent again and continued searching. After a while, he stopped. “Got it.”

Yin Jiujiu hurried over. On that brick was a single word: “Fly”.

What did it mean?

Zhou Qian straightened and asked Bai Zhou, “Zhou Ge, see anything?”

“I noted several place-names earlier. Let me try.”

“Good. Then that person’s yours.” Zhou Qian said and lifted his gaze as if addressing someone unseen.

“Zhou Ge, I may have lost a lot of gamblers, and who knows how many moles are left among the living. I’ll leave this to you. You have no gamblers, so nothing will leak from you.

“Let’s win in one stroke.”

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