Once in the ancient world, their potions would be ineffective. Even if they managed to stock up on potions, how many could successfully escort the NPC back to the village under the mountain god’s watch? Wang Shenmu’s hatred for the company’s marketing department was as intense as his hatred for those real-money players. Unfortunately, his job was limited to world-building, character creation, and plot development; the game store selling real-money items, treasure chest gambling, and other money-making schemes were beyond his control. Despite his vehement opposition to such monetization strategies, no one paid him any heed. So, in the world within his grasp, he played tricks on those fools! If they believed in the gods, they’d only get an ordinary reward, the mission would end, and they’d return to reality. If the jar was broken, in his setting, the player who broke the jar would inevitably die. Even if by some stroke of luck one died and others survived, at this point, those who were eliminated would hate the living ones so much that there would be no room for trust among humans.
Wang Shenmu insisted that it must be the players who had died and returned to the real world that should dig up the immortal from a thousand years later to return to the past and make amends for regrets. Without this step, the survivors would be forever entangled with the Snow Maiden. Wang Shenmu was convinced that no one could possibly advance to this stage. Even if a miracle occurred and they did reach this step, with the shadow of those killed by the Snow Maiden looming over them, how could weak humans ever choose to let the Snow Maiden possess their bodies? Even if there was a miracle within a miracle, and the truly fearless and wise survivors took on the Snow Maiden’s form, defeated the immortal, and obtained the legendary talisman of the Lord of the Snow Mountain, they would probably run faster than anyone else, right? How could they possibly give it to the cunning Snow Maiden?
However, the task of the Snow God Umbrella was designed by him to mock the greed and folly of humans, making it the most impossible task among all divine artifacts. Wang Shenmu never believed anyone could obtain it. So, when he saw the huge headline news that morning, he had just torn up the map and occasionally checked the game forums for news:
[The Northern Divine Artifact “Snow God Umbrella” was unearthed at 05:40 this morning. Let us congratulate the recipient “Mary Next Door”].
Wang Shenmu nearly flipped the table as he stood up. Mary Next Door, he remembered her as the little priest who had obstructed him from chopping down trees and took the blame for him at the wedding. How could she possibly obtain the divine artifact? Wang Shenmu quickly logged into the game with his main account, teleporting himself to the north, to the snowfield where players would return after completing the task. Old Chen gave the map to her, but a level 10 novice ended up with the divine artifact. What was going on? When Wang Shenmu arrived at the snowy field, the sealing array on the ground was still faintly glowing. He saw two people standing in the snow, one was “Mary Next Door,” now at level 120, holding his cherished Snow God Umbrella, and the other was “Eternal Palace.”
Eternal Palace, it was Eternal Palace again! Wang Shenmu then understood; this priest was a side account of Eternal Palace. No wonder, Eternal Palace was the only person he didn’t dislike in this world, the only one capable of breaking his task and qualified to wield the Snow God Umbrella. Wang Shenmu’s heart was pounding as he typed: Is it you, Eternal Palace? He followed with another sentence: I really want to talk with you. But as soon as he sent the message, the two vanished. Damn it! Last time, Luo Zishang interrupted, and Eternal Palace left without a word; this time, with no interruptions, he still left without a word. Wang Shenmu felt deeply disappointed. In this world that left him disheartened, he needed someone to understand and listen to him. Frustrated, Wang Shenmu entered a series of commands to open the game console. Yes, there was no GM (Game Master) tag before his name, but he also had GM authority, after all, he was the chief designer of this world. In the player information query system, Wang Shenmu entered Eternal Palace’s ID, and instantly, the last login time and IP address of the account appeared on his screen. Wang Shenmu copied down the IP address and made a call to his former colleague in the tech department. “Help me find out where this IP address is located!” Wang Shenmu almost roared.
The poor tech department young man had never seen the revered chief designer so anxious before and quickly checked through the internal system, reporting: “This IP belongs to the exclusive fiber optic network of the Happiness Community, pointing to Building B7. It’s hard to pinpoint which household. Do you need to check anything else?” “That’s enough, that’s enough.” Wang Shenmu hung up, changed his clothes, hurried out, hailed a taxi, and headed straight to the destination. Heroes meet but too late; he had to find Eternal Palace in person to talk.
“I’ll look for myself.” Qin Chuan coughed awkwardly. He had lived in this community for several years, and the most he had ever bought at the convenience store were instant noodles and drinks.
But then again, he didn’t know what she liked. Looking at the exaggerated and explicit packaging descriptions, he suddenly thought of Little Mary’s bare form in the Ancient World. Qin Chuan’s cheeks felt hot. For six years, he had thought countless times about seeing her again. Standing in front of the shelf for a long time, Qin Chuan finally saw a row of fruit-flavored items. He thought, “I’ll take the fruity ones.”
“Which flavor?” the shopkeeper pointed out one by one: strawberries, bananas, mint, chocolate…
“Just one of each,” Qin Chuan finally said, grabbing a bunch of small fruit-flavored boxes. The store had just run out of plastic bags, and he could only awkwardly hold onto the pile of boxes, making his way back through the community garden to his apartment. Fortunately, it was early in the morning.
Qin Chuan walked with his head down; he lived in Building B7, just around a small path away.
However, at the corner, he unexpectedly bumped into someone hurrying out from another path. Neither saw the other, and they collided, scattering the small boxes all over the ground. Wang Shenmu began to apologize, but when he looked up, he realized he had bumped into the man who had brazenly played a wild game in the internet cafe and then snatched his taxi. Wang Shenmu stared at Qin Chuan’s face and down at the scattered fruit-flavored boxes on the ground. He decided not to apologize. Wang Shenmu cursed under his breath and walked away briskly. He was in a hurry to find Building B7. If the other person was an office worker, they would soon be leaving, and he couldn’t afford a wasted trip. Alas, there seems to be a saying about enemies meeting on a narrow path. When Wang Shenmu finally found Building B7 after much wandering, he discovered that the man was also waiting for the elevator.
When the Grim Reaper, holding a pile of fruit-flavored boxes, opened the door, he was greeted with a shout, “Get the hell out of here!” Followed by, “Are you even a man?” and then, “Alright, alright, you’ve got some guts!” Qin Chuan saw his little lioness standing by the window, cursing over the phone.
The Grim Reaper clutched his heart and placed the boxes on the coffee table. He lay on the sofa with squinted eyes, waiting for her to finish her call.
—”Aren’t you supposed to be super fierce? Why aren’t you hard anymore?”
—”Aren’t you supposed to… cough!… big?” Su Yao was so angry she choked on her spit, making the word between “big” and “great” vanish, causing Qin Chuan’s eyes to reflect a slightly dangerous light.