Recently Killed Many People

Several more months passed in the blink of an eye.

The sales of gaming helmets had increased, and the probability of winning in-game rewards had also grown. Naturally, the scalpers' prices plummeted as a result—quite significantly, in fact. But there was still profit to be made. From the peak price of 580,000 a few months ago, it had now dropped to around 170,000.

Cao Cheng arrived in the capital.

He met up with his father-in-law, and of course, the topic of the game came up.

Some negative side effects had begun to surface.

Many young people were quitting their jobs, unable to endure their bosses' scolding or the "blessing" of the 996 work schedule. At the slightest provocation, they’d curse their boss’s mother and resign on the spot.

They went home to earn money by playing games—specifically, by farming in-game currency.

Though it was still hard work,

at least in the game, they had freedom. Even at their worst, they could make two or three thousand a month, enough to get by.

As long as they weren’t lazy and put in a little effort, they could earn something.

And if luck was on their side, they could make quite a bit.

Even though more people were farming in-game currency, the exchange rate between copper coins and real-world money hadn’t dropped—in fact, it had risen slightly.

Because more players were joining.

Previously, there were only a little over two million registered players.

Now, that number had soared past ten million.

Demand was greater than ever.

And…

as players explored more of the game’s world, all sorts of hidden encounters, martial arts rumors, and factions began to emerge.

There were just too many places to spend money.

To put it bluntly, traveling from the south to the north of a major city like Chang’an required taking a carriage—and that cost money.

This wasn’t like those old games where you could just sprint across the map in seconds.

There were no teleportation arrays either.

This wasn’t some xianxia cultivation world.

So now,

the exchange rate had risen to 1.2 yuan per copper coin—a 20% increase from before!

And it showed no signs of stopping.

Because in-game expenses weren’t just about daily life—there were also cultivation costs.

As the player base grew and more martial arts techniques appeared, the martial world became increasingly chaotic. Trading volume skyrocketed, and the concept of "the rich practice martial arts, the poor study literature" became a reality.

On the surface, it was just a game.

But this was the metaverse—a parallel world.

So if you wanted to train in martial arts, you needed proper nutrition, and that alone cost a fortune.

Fortunately,

as time passed and the overall strength of players improved, more money-making opportunities opened up.

Even working as a bodyguard for wealthy families could earn you a decent income.

After all, there were too many bandits roaming the land now.

Many players chose the path of "robbing the rich to help the poor."

But this profession came with high risks.

Sure, you couldn’t "die."

But that was only in the game’s technical sense. If you were caught or your identity was exposed, the imperial court would issue a warrant for your arrest, putting a bounty on your head across the entire region.

If captured, you’d be thrown in prison.

And in this game, prison was real.

Though some adjustments had been made to prevent decades-long sentences, you could still end up locked up for dozens of days.

Every day, you’d have to log in for at least two hours to serve your sentence.

Otherwise, your account would be rendered useless.

Sure,

you could always create a new account—there were no restrictions on that. But starting over meant losing everything.

All your skills, all your progress—gone.

Your previous martial arts? Useless.

This was mandatory.

So most players had no choice but to endure their prison sentence quietly.

As a result, many streamers now spent their days broadcasting their prison life, fighting and bickering with other inmates—a whole new niche that fans loved.

After all, people never tired of watching drama.

This also deterred many would-be bandits who lacked the nerve to take the risk.

…

Father-in-law spoke up: "Give me some money later."

"Huh?"

Cao Cheng set down his teacup, staring at the old man in surprise.

His father-in-law grumbled, "The randomized spawn mechanic in 'Great Martial Heroes' is absolute garbage. It dumped me in the northern wastelands, freezing and snowbound. I couldn’t even afford clothes—I was some village outcast. I froze to death twice already."

"Pfft—"

Cao Cheng nearly burst out laughing.

His father-in-law snapped, "What’s so funny? I swear you did this on purpose. Admit it—you’re monitoring my account, aren’t you?"

"How would I even know it’s you? I don’t even check the game, let alone spy on you," Cao Cheng replied, shaking his head with amusement.

His father-in-law sighed. "Just get me some clothes, weapons, and silver later."

Cao Cheng rolled his eyes. "Where’s the fun in that? Besides, the Core of the Virtual Realm has its own AI consciousness. Every time we tweak backend data, it takes ages. And you want me to do it just for some in-game cash? Really?"

"Then figure out another way to send it to me. Or transfer it directly. Don’t tell me you don’t play this game yourself."

"Fine, fine. I’ll add you as a friend later and send you some money," Cao Cheng conceded, chuckling.

He had to hand it to his father-in-law.

The man must’ve had too much free time lately if he was dabbling in 'Great Martial Heroes.'

Was this game even meant to be played?

Not really.

When Cao Cheng designed it, he’d intentionally included all sorts of frustrating mechanics—nothing game-breaking, but enough to generate plenty of emotional reactions.

Oh—

That explained it.

Cao Cheng suddenly realized why he’d seen several spikes in emotional feedback earlier.

It was probably when his father-in-law died from cold and hunger that a massive wave of negative emotions erupted.

Damn.

The emotional value generated by the identity of a father-in-law was something no one else could match.

It was truly overwhelming.

...

After some casual conversation,

the father-in-law and Cao Cheng got down to serious business.

It was about certain negative opinions circulating in society.

People claimed this game had blurred the line between reality and the metaverse for many, causing young kids to waste their lives, obsessively playing games day and night.

Such criticisms were everywhere.

At first, only a handful of self-righteous netizens were spouting this rhetoric, but later, it was exploited by certain individuals who stirred up a wave of backlash.

There were even traces of foreign influence behind it.

Cao Cheng shook his head with a smile. "Ignore them. When cameras were first installed on phones, didn’t it cause the same kind of social upheaval? Even street surveillance cameras faced fierce criticism back then."

"Actually, this is a good opportunity to root out some rats, dig up the people behind this, and deal with them—arrest the ones we can, eliminate the ones we must."

As he spoke, though Cao Cheng was smiling, his father-in-law could clearly sense an intense surge of bloodlust radiating from him.

It seemed he had recently taken quite a few lives.

Of course, the father-in-law knew this kid hadn’t killed anyone in reality—it must’ve been in the game.

Many of the soldiers in their squad now carried a heavy aura of bloodlust.

But...

Cao Cheng’s was way too thick, wasn’t it?

The father-in-law couldn’t help asking, "How many people have you killed in the game lately?"

Cao Cheng’s imposing aura gradually receded as he grinned. "Not many. Just a few thousand bandits. It’s a martial arts game, after all. As a true hero, I’ve got to serve the nation and its people, right?"

"..."

The father-in-law shot him an exasperated glance.

He wasn’t worried that excessive bloodlust would cause psychological issues.

At first, some people had raised concerns about it.

After all, the soldiers’ combat effectiveness had significantly improved after being tempered by bloodshed and slaughter.

But everyone knew that killing too much could take a heavy toll on one’s psyche.

So...