Zhu Yan really wanted to stir up some trouble.
For instance, calling in sick outright and getting out of tomorrow's meeting that sounded incredibly boring.
He'd only just turned eighteen, not that he was stupid.
Yang Zhanbai had just said that "items above level nine get confiscated," yet more than one monster of level ten or above had already appeared in the students' dungeons.
If the Human Alliance had truly noticed this, and if some of its members genuinely cared about the player community as a whole, then they would never have made such a decision.
Zhu Yan did the math silently in his head.
These people—or rather, some of them—probably subscribed to some "survival of the fittest" jungle-law philosophy.
Using everything in their grasp to snatch resources from others, especially from weak players who hadn't fully grown yet.
"How much do they know about my weapon?"
Zhu Yan asked Yang Zhanbai quietly, casually stuffing two packs of instant noodles into his arms as a thank-you for the intel.
Yang Zhanbai frowned and shoved them back.
"Are you really pulling that outsider crap on me?"
He looked around, then scratched his head, a bit embarrassed: "Look, Guan En knows everything. He saw the video of you getting stabbed."
Mm.
Zhu Yan kept his face blank.
Yang Zhanbai explained: "You didn't know, but at the time, I had the player forum recording running the whole time to capture the Hunter's voice."
Didn't know?
Oh, Zhu Yan knew all too well.
"Later, when you ran over, I captured everything, including the Hunter fleeing."
"I sent the video out and reached out to Guan En and Chen Zhaoxing for help at the same time."
That wasn't necessarily a bad thing—in a sense, it was exactly the effect Zhu Yan wanted, even a pleasant surprise.
If the Human Alliance saw that video, then Zhu Yan's two identities would be as starkly separated as a rich second-generation's memorial photo—there would be no room for confusion ever again.
The only catch was that the sword would need to be worked over by Dragonfly at the Lazy Craftsman Shop.
Zhu Yan calculated carefully.
As it happened, during the dungeon, he'd made a deal with Dragonfly: 400 bone coins for a weapon that was worth 40 bone coins.
He wondered if Dragonfly could craft a good-looking but useless replica longsword.
He could totally pay extra!
"What did Guan En say?" Zhu Yan asked.
"He can't get here right away," Yang Zhanbai told him honestly. "He said that after the dungeon ends, I can bring you to the school gate right away, and he'll show up with a healer-class player."
"Oh, right, he also said he has to take the longsword. …Good thing the reward came in time."
The odds of Guan En actually keeping the sword for himself weren't high.
Zhu Yan thought silently.
Too many people knew about that blade—from the caged players to Yang Zhanbai, and then Chen Zhaoxing, Qi Yinming, and the others.
Unless Guan En could erase or carefully rewrite all of their memories, the fact that Zhu Zeyu had a longsword would eventually leak out. There was no way to hide it forever.
And for Zhu Yan himself, it was the same.
Better than hiding it was to pull a trick in broad daylight and just hand over a high-quality fake.
"...You're not actually planning to hand it over, are you?"
Yang Zhanbai stared at the silent Zhu Zeyu, sensing a faint whiff of trouble.
Zhu Zeyu seemed a little distracted.
He asked about Guan En when the topic was the weapon, and then when Yang Zhanbai brought the conversation back to the sword, he stopped responding.
Whenever there was a hard question, he just didn't answer!
"Hey, come here, let me tell you something."
The two of them kept chatting while hauling stuff, and the shelves on their side were already empty.
On the other side of the shelves, Chen Zhaoxing was holding a jar of chicken sauce, reading the ingredient list with great interest.
Yang Zhanbai gave him a wary look and pulled the pensive Zhu Yan behind the counter.
There was a locked little door there—probably a storage room.
Yang Zhanbai drew out a razor-thin dagger to slice through the lock, another one of his looted treasures from the Lazy Craftsman Shop.
"Zhu Zeyu, at times like this, you don't have to be so upstanding, you know?"
Yang Zhanbai reasoned earnestly.
"I'm saying, if you can't fight 'em, you can at least dodge 'em."
"How about you take leave right now? I'll—"
Zhu Yan shook his head, worry spilling from his lips without effort.
"Everything you're telling me right now counts as your memories. If I take leave, and they come investigating you, won't you be dragged into it too?"
He couldn't take leave.
This would be the first time he was officially walking into the Human Alliance.
Back at the Hall of Mourning, he'd seen some of those rich second-gens, but that hadn't been close or formal contact.
He didn't know whether these people would show up at this kind of trivial "welcoming assembly."
If they did—even one or two—he would have a chance to learn more about them.
Besides, if he really could hand over a fake sword, how satisfying would it feel to mess with those people!
Yang Zhanbai froze: "Then you're just obediently giving up your weapon? What about yourself—what will you use?"
Zhu Yan patted him on the shoulder and double-checked the counter he'd already ransacked earlier.
While he was quiet, Yang Zhanbai absently cut through the lock, and the little storage room's door creaked open.
Stuffed inside were all kinds of daily necessities and filling foods, with cardboard boxes labeled with product names stacked all the way to the ceiling.
"I want the chocolate and taro-flavored instant milk tea," Zhu Yan said immediately. "Pack all of it up for me."
Yang Zhanbai was so anxious his voice nearly pitched past whispering.
"Bro, don't just be proactive about things like that! Your weapon—"
But Zhu Zeyu just lowered his eyes to look at his own hands, as if he'd given up hoping about that topic.
"I'll hand it over then," he said flatly. "Can't dodge it, can't hide it. A level-thirteen blade isn't really needed every time anyway."
For example, it wouldn't be needed when he handed it in tomorrow.
And for example, killing a few second-gens who wanted to steal powers might only need something at level eight or nine.
He gave Yang Zhanbai a reassuring smile and pointed at the storage room behind him. "Let's handle what's in front of us first. Don't overthink it."
Zhu Yan was going to attend that meeting tomorrow, and he'd see if he could fish out the names of those second-gens.
If he could, he would also use his authority as the Hunter to do some thorough digging at the Nightmare Bookstore.
It would cost a fortune.
But having gone through this many dungeons, who among all of them didn't have some money on hand?
…
The Four-School Passage was on the main road in front of the Nightmare Bookstore.
It was a crudely built tunnel, like something the Carnival Paradise had rushed out in a panic.
The steps were bumpy and uneven, not even paved with stone slabs—only rough shapes carved into the yellow-black hard soil.
The tunnel was about five meters wide, but the ceiling was so low it almost brushed against Zhu Yan's hair.
A thick, sour, rotting smell filled everyone's nostrils, and Zhu Yan heard a player nearby muttering in complaint.
"Damn, they dug this thing like it was my own grave shaft..."
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
