Mantou's Struggle

The central plaza of the City of Baator. Players bustled to and fro in an endless stream, making the place lively and bustling. "Buying a set of standard iron gear!" "LF a sorcerer carry! Twenty-man raid heading into the mountains to hunt yetis, no Wild Magic Sorcerers!" "Buying a musical instrument!" "Buying all kinds of potions at market price, especially healing potions! Buying in bulk, no limit!" The party playfully dubbed the "Four Drudges" by the player base gathered once more. They were still dressed in their starting novice gear without the slightest upgrade—after all, every copper they had painstakingly saved from questing had gone toward paying off their loan. Singo asked with great enthusiasm, "How much Faction Contribution do you guys have now? I'm at 7,985." Xiaye Qiuyu said, "I'm at 6,389." Tiansheng Zhankuang rubbed his bald head. "7,071." Mantou's expression had shifted from utter despair to numb resignation. "I only have 5,789." "Sing-dog, what the hell, we've been doing hard labor for eighteen days straight! The title 'Four Drudges' is already famous on the player forums! When is this nightmare going to end?" Mantou stroked the coarse cloth robes on his body, missing his former leather armor more and more. It might not have looked handsome, but it had provided a rare sense of security. Tiansheng Zhankuang patted Mantou on the shoulder and said earnestly, "'Thus, when Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a man, it first fills his heart with suffering, toils his sinews and bones, and starves his body...' The path to becoming a pro gamer is never easy." Mantou gazed at Singo, who remained intensely hyperactive even after eighteen days of slave labor, silently thinking that this guy was an absolute monster. Meanwhile, the cheerfully grinning Tiansheng Zhankuang beside him was not to be underestimated either. Xiaye Qiuyu smoothed down her hair, which had become rather messy from mining. "Any clues on the tiefling quest?" Mantou shook his head. "I've been worked half to death these days; I haven't had the energy to care about that." Tiansheng Zhankuang had rubbed his bald head so much it seemed almost polished with a patina. "When I went to ask those tieflings, they all kept their mouths shut. A few of them even attacked me outright! Good thing I'm a barbarian with thick skin, or I would've suffered my first death right there." Singo gave a mysterious smile. "I've already finished the quest." "A few days ago, I bribed a destitute tiefling and pried the intel out of him. Even so, it took a huge effort. They all seemed unwilling to speak of their past, though I understood why afterward. "These tieflings originally hailed from a city called 'Northwind Keep,' ruled by Duke Brad Lakeman of House Lackman..." By the time Singo finished recounting this tragic and bloody history, the quest completion notification flashed across everyone's status panels, adding 500 Faction Contribution to their accounts. After nearly a month of gameplay, most players had developed a certain sense of identity and belonging toward the City of Baator. A fan club for Mezrolash had even sprung up on the player forums. Xiaye Qiuyu sighed. "Mezrolash really hasn't had it easy..." Tiansheng Zhankuang added indignantly, "Let's slaughter those goddamn vampires." Only Mantou suddenly seemed to remember something, staring wide-eyed. "Where did you get the money? Didn't all our gold go into buying the invitation?" Without batting an eye, Singo replied breezily, "When I went to take out the loan, I realized we had gear to spare. So I only put up mine, Qiuyu's, and Zhankuang's gear as collateral, while I sold yours to fund my operations. Consider it credited to my account; I'll pay you back next time." "You utter animal, Sing-dog! You'd rather sell my gear than give it back to me?!" The fury Mantou had suppressed over eighteen days of slave labor finally erupted. He lunged forward, trying to strip Singo of his novice outfit and turn him into a second "Holy Light Bro," completely ruining his reputation. However, Singo deftly dodged with nimble footwork, leaving Mantou to nearly crash into the stone dragon statue in the center of the plaza. "Calm down. Even if you strip me naked—" "—your gear still isn't coming back." Even while dodging, Singo didn't forget to flaunt his venomous tongue. However, as Mantou lay on the ground, he was startled to notice a line of faint, easily overlooked small text carved into the statue's plinth: *Dedicated to the Master of the Cinder Nest, the mighty and incomparably noble red dragon, eternal monarch of the City of Baator—Lord Cassius Claudew Norixius.* "Holy crap, come look at this! I found some critical intel!" The four hurried over to gather around. Throwing all dignity to the wind, Singo sprawled on the ground with his rear in the air, examining the text closely. "Cassius..." "That name sounds familiar." Tiansheng Zhankuang rubbed his polished bald head. After working eighteen days as a slave laborer, even his brain had grown sluggish. Xiaye Qiuyu couldn't help but palm her forehead and gently reminded them, "Remember that insanely handsome—no, super important NPC? The title floating above his head was 'Mysterious Draconic Bloodline Sorcerer—Cassius'!" Singo added, "And he had red dragon traits: scales, horns, and golden eyes." Mantou had a sudden epiphany. "Doesn't that mean that mysterious NPC is the leader of our faction—the humanoid avatar of that red dragon big boss who never showed up?!" "I'm afraid so," Singo nodded in agreement. Mantou couldn't help marveling, "Then we've caught a huge fish here! Wait, that's not right—my affinity with the big boss is already at -10! Sing-dog, give me back my affinity!" Ignoring him, Singo turned to the other two. "Have you guys noticed the recent movements of the big guilds? Bazhe, the guild leader of Wangquan, has already started dispatching people to hoard the wall construction quests. He even recruited that civil engineering bro 'Run with the Bucket' for big money, contracting out that entire section. "And the people from Jiange have even started heading down the mines personally. Their intention is a little too obvious." Mantou was stunned. "You mean... they've already figured out what Faction Contribution is for?" "I'm afraid so." Crossing his arms with confident composure, Singo said, "Still, it's time to make the quest info public. Right now, each of us is sitting on roughly seven thousand Faction Contribution, and we bought the Mysterious Invitation in advance. Even those big guilds won't catch up to our progress. "Now is the moment to get all the players farming Faction Contribution and poaching their quests to drag out the guilds' progress. Meanwhile, we can take the opportunity to earn some real money and take on the lucrative quests we couldn't touch before. "Mantou, once you finish today's grind, go straight to making the video. I'll post the guide on the forums. Tonight, we push ahead with everything we've got." "Oh, got it." Mantou's tone suddenly swelled with high spirits. "Hmph! 'Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west of the river—do not bully the young and poor!' I'll show everyone who mocked me as a slave laborer what it truly means to stay one step ahead at every turn!" Yet that night, while editing the video, he patted the increasingly thinning hair on the back of his head and suddenly felt that something was amiss. "Holy crap... How come even after logging off the game, I'm still working as a wage slave for Sing-dog?!"