The Blood Moon's Cheat Code

Kaimeng City, Cathedral District of the Upper District, No. 22 Silent Forest Villa District. Knock, knock. Three seconds after the respectful knock sounded, a cool voice came from inside: "Enter." Gessas the orc pushed open the door and stepped into the study—which could practically be considered a miniature library—followed by his attendant. With a ceiling height of 7.7 meters and covering an area of 79 square meters, all the walls were embedded with runed bookshelves meticulously crafted by goblin artisans. Even the ceiling was covered by a glass screen, behind which lay legacy scrolls crafted through ancient secret arts. A plush, soft, pinkish-purple Veela fur carpet covered the floor. Although this was not his first time here, every time he saw this extravagant room, Gessas could not help bending his waist even lower. Leaving aside the precious knowledge that would never circulate across the Curtain, this pinkish-purple carpet alone was enough to quell any thoughts of rebellion. Veela fur came in varied colors, and pinkish-purple was arguably the rarest and most exquisite shade. How many Veelas had to die to weave a carpet like this? Of course, Gessas did not believe his master would resort to illegal means for a carpet. Given his master's personality, he would never openly display stolen goods in such broad daylight. Therefore, this meant the carpet was a legitimate, fully compliant work of art. He guessed it had perhaps been purchased by his master from the Research Institute, or was a gift from a scholar of the Blood Saint clan. Virtually all goods related to corpses came from the Research Institute. Only the Research Institute, which controlled all corpse resources, could possibly produce such a breathtakingly dazzling work of art in a "legal and compliant" manner. Walking along the carpet through the forest of books, what met Gessas's eyes was a desk resembling a tree trunk. The lights in the room were off. Pale crimson moonlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling window, cleaved in two by the high-backed chair, gently draping over the area around the desk. The figure on the chair was bathed in darkness. When he opened his emerald-green eyes, Gessas lowered his gaze to the tips of his own shoes, not daring to look directly into the elf's eyes. "You do not appear to be bringing me good news, Gessas." "We found Ronald. We dispatched two Gold Beaks and seven Silver Beaks, but because the 'Death Eater' was too ferocious, they managed to escape in the end," Gessas said quickly. "All black market healers are under Woodpecker surveillance. The moment they seek medical attention, we will surely apprehend them." "Mm. What else?" "Although there are no eyewitness reports, based on shopping and trash disposal patterns, we can confirm that Igola Bogin is hiding in the apartment of the Bloodmad Hunter Amy Lexus. But Amy Lexus belongs to the Moon Shadow clan, so we cannot conduct further searches." "Even a Moon Shadow is willing to harbor him?" The elf seemed somewhat surprised. "He was probably deceived. Most Moon Shadows are simple-minded monsters... What else?" "The Corpse Recovery Sections of several affiliated hospitals have reported that when they went to retrieve remains according to coordinates provided by the Sin Hunting Hall, they found no corpses. A Sin Hunting branch bureau in the Upper District arrived at a crime scene within ten minutes of receiving a 'death signal,' yet found no bodies either, and could not even track any traces. "Several sensational murders occurred in the Lower District. The bosses of several gangs under the Wine of Immortality Club suddenly went mad and slaughtered their subordinates. The killers' corpses bore clear signs of necromancy. "A former council member from the Wine of Immortality died in his sleep with no signs of struggle. "Such clean, practiced body disposal and a modus operandi brimming with the style of a Control Master—it is clearly the 'Necrophile' Archibald Harvey seeking revenge." Gessas said, "Based on the scope of his activity, we can basically determine that his base is in the Pig District. Give me three more days, and I will definitely find him!" "I do not doubt your competence, but you will definitely not find him." The elf lightly tapped his fingers on the desk. "That necromancer violated a taboo of the Blood Saint clan. These past few days, the Sin Hunting Hall has certainly been pursuing his trail with everything they have... Perhaps even as we speak, he has already been captured by Bloodmad Hunters, bled like a pig, had his memories picked apart thread by thread, and had his corpse disassembled into various materials. When facing enemies who can touch their interests, the Blood Saint clan never stints on respect. "Though none have been caught, these four count as passable news, I suppose. So..." "What else?" Gessas trembled all over, his knees giving way as he dropped directly to his knees. His forehead pressed tightly against the carpet. Even with boundless dread clutching his heart, his words remained fluent: "Forgive me. Woodpecker has truly been unable to find any trace of Yaxiu Heath. Not a single shred of intelligence." A soft chuckle came from behind the desk. "Under the glory of the blood moon, all are equal. What is more, Gessas, you are a Two-Winged Sorcerer who has bathed in the golden rain. Do not kneel so easily." Faced with this seemingly soothing reassurance, Gessas did not dare make the slightest move. This chosen one among orcs maintained the most humble posture, exposing his completely undefended back to his master's gaze. Indeed, just like his master, he was a Two-Winged Gold Sorcerer. If placed anywhere else, Gessas might not have been on equal footing with his master, but at least he wouldn't have been so abjectly servile... However, this was the Blood Moon Country. The law was the divine will; the rules were the divine desires. Unless one was willing to rebel against society, renounce civilization, turn into a beast, and stop playing this garbage game, even a Legendary Sorcerer had to follow societal rules—and in a game governed by rules, resources held the ultimate say. Power was one type of resource, a relatively important one, but by no means the only one. The more stable a society, the lower the resource value of raw strength became. In this civilized nation with over a thousand years of heritage, power served merely as a threshold, like an academic degree acting as a stepping stone. Non-sorcerers could only honestly serve as society's fuel. Although sorcerers were qualified to participate in this game, they were only barely qualified. This was a PvP game that had been running for a thousand years, with no novice village or low-level zone. Every new player who entered faced guild leaders (entrepreneurs), hard-core grinders (high society elites), max-level players (Legendary Sorcerers), and even cheaters (the two Blood Moon clans). The most interesting part was that, although it was a PvP game, society was entirely a safe zone, where attacking one another was theoretically forbidden. Therefore, new players had only two choices: become a dog to the veteran players and fawn over them to share in the resources trickling from their fingers, or become fuel, tacitly ostracized and squeezed out by the veteran players. Gessas had only opened an account in this game thirty-six years ago. Though he was remarkably gifted—a mere orc able to step into Two Wings by thirty—this master of his was a veteran player who had joined the game a hundred and eighty years ago. Compared to sorcery power, connections, authority, and resources were the elf's most terrifying strengths. Not to mention prestigious titles like President of the Elven Rights Protection Association, City Council Member, and University Professor; the identity of 'Behind-the-Scenes Master of Woodpecker' alone was enough to easily reduce all of Gessas's efforts over the years to ash. While Gessas was indeed the current leader of Woodpecker, most of Woodpecker's core members could be directly controlled by his master. Comically enough, as an underworld organization handling dirty work, Woodpecker's core members did not actually receive salaries or wages. Even if their labor rights were infringed upon, labor laws certainly wouldn't protect them, though turning to the Sin Hunting Hall might help them seek revenge. The primary financial source for most underworld organization members, including Woodpecker, was—loans. All compensation was issued as 'temporary loans' from financial companies. Of course, as long as you worked dutifully, they naturally wouldn't demand repayment, let alone charge interest. But once a financial company chose to collect, anyone unable to pay would immediately become a 'discredited person.' In the Blood Moon Country, becoming a 'discredited person' was equivalent to being forced to sleep in cardboard boxes beneath overpasses. You could not use any public transportation, could not pass through any checkpoints, could not make high-value purchases, could not rent an apartment, and could not even communicate. It was equivalent to being kicked out of civilized society with a single boot. Perhaps some might wonder why anyone would join Woodpecker under such harsh conditions. Couldn't they just work an honest job and sign a legal, compliant labor contract whose rights were protected? Because virtually none of Woodpecker's members could endure a nine-to-five job. Furthermore, for a sorcerer, unless they joined specific institutions like the Research Institute, most jobs were a complete waste of time. A sorcerer's studies required full-time dedication, and they cost a great deal of money. Even if they wanted to borrow money to cultivate full-time, they couldn't; no bank would approve such a loan. In comparison, Woodpecker's willingness to provide 'interest-free loans with no fixed term' looked extremely sweet. If one became a Two-Winged Sorcerer, Woodpecker would naturally forgive the loans and even give them important roles. Even if one failed to reach Two Wings, as long as they remained obedient and did not betray the organization, Woodpecker would not ruin their credit. If one wanted to cultivate while working, that wasn't impossible either. In fact, such people were heavily publicized as inspirational role models. But the very word 'inspirational' showed just how arduous that path was. The successful ones, without exception, possessed a combination of talent, hard work, and luck to fight their way out of mundane life. Those who possessed such qualities might have achieved success much faster had they joined Woodpecker earlier and walked the crooked path. Woodpecker's rise to its present scale was by no means an accident. Even without Woodpecker, these underworld sorcerers would still flock to other factions in exchange for study resources (especially time), stopping at nothing even if it meant signing harsher contracts to become dogs. And most sorcerers didn't even have the opportunity to be dogs. They could only be a dog's dog. If the income of ordinary legal work was 1, and the dog food for someone of Gessas's rank was 15, then a Woodpecker Silver Beak earned 5, and a Gold Beak earned 10. So even if Gessas were to lash out now and potentially kill the elf, he only dared lower his head in humility. Even if he killed his master, so what? He couldn't inherit any of the elf's estate. Woodpecker, bound by debt, would never recognize a criminal leader. Everything the elf owned would be carved up by players of the same tier. Meanwhile, as the one who broke the game's rules, Gessas would only be sent to Shattered Lake Prison to have the last drop of dignity squeezed out of him on Blood Moon Broadcast as a 'heinous criminal boss.' The best outcome would merely be another 'veteran player' taking a liking to Gessas, sparing his life, and taking him under their wing. In short... Gessas would simply change masters. This was the Blood Moon's racial equality: before long-lived species, everyone was equally inferior. This was the Blood Moon's human rights and freedom: the freedom to choose which veteran player's dog to become. Gessas had known for a long time that the Blood Moon was a paradise for long-lived species. In this game where inheritance did not exist, where generational accumulation was impossible, and where all new players had to 'start from scratch,' lifespan was the greatest cheat code. The longer one lived, the more resources one could amass; the longer one lived, the more of a 'veteran' player one became; the longer one lived, the more one could form an interest group centered on oneself. This was why the two Blood Moon clans formed the ruling class, and why elves were praised as 'stewards of society'—to the two Blood Moon clans, elves were the only race qualified to sit on equal footing with them. As for those short-lived species who died within a century, they were not worth paying any attention to at all. It had nothing to do with discrimination, or even profit, because in the eyes of long-lived species, short-lived species were merely their resources. Lifespan was the greatest class divide. So even if he had to bow and scrape, even if he was as lowly as a maggot, Gessas had to earn enough money to go to the Research Institute for life-extension surgery. Sometimes Gessas would wonder: if he hadn't grown up in a rearing institute in the Lower District, if he had resolved back then to take exams for middle school and university and ultimately managed to test into the Research Institute to become a Blood Saint, would everything have been different? But the world had no 'what ifs.' Born into the wrong circumstances, lacking the right education, he could only walk the hardest path. Minutes and seconds ticked by. The study was silent, as though frozen solid. Just as Gessas's clothes were completely drenched in cold sweat, the elf's voice slowly sounded: "Keep a close eye on Gerard." After a brief silence, Gessas spoke up. "Bloodmad Hunter Captain, the 'White-Haired Butcher' Gerard Westminster?" "Yaxiu Heath made him lose so much face; Gerard will definitely hunt him down personally. If Gerard kills him on the spot, then there is nothing more to say. If Gerard chooses to apprehend him and spare his life..." "Then Woodpecker will devour this pest." Stealing a kill on Yaxiu Heath in front of a Three-Winged Sanctuary Sorcerer? Anyone thinking with the contents of their bowels would know how difficult this mission was, but Gessas responded without hesitation, "Your command will be carried out. However, since two days ago, Gerard's movements have been secretive. Even the Sin Hunting Hall does not know his whereabouts. May I ask..." "He is likely at Observation Point 53," the elf said. "Go. May the blood moon illuminate your path ahead." Gessas retreated from the room step by step, gently closing the door. The elf flipped open the file beside him. Inside was precisely Yaxiu Heath's résumé, detailing his birth record, rearing institute background, middle school awards, and university activities. He lightly tapped his fingers on the desk. His nails were slender and long, tapping out a da, da, da sound against the wooden surface... "Why haven't you left yet?" The elf looked up toward the hooded figure in front of the desk. The hooded figure walked out from the shadows of the study and stepped onto the floor illuminated by the blood-colored light. Wearing a mask, his eyes were full of surprise. "As expected, even among Two-Winged Sorcerers, there are tiers," he chuckled softly. "Since even a Two-Winged Sorcerer could detect me, it seems I won't be able to bluff my way in front of Gerard..." "You aren't Gessas's attendant?" The elf's brow furrowed. "Who are you?" He had noticed this person earlier, but had assumed him to be Gessas's attendant and hadn't paid him much mind. Yet right at this moment, he suddenly realized a problem—Gessas never brought anyone to see him. In Woodpecker, only the leader had the qualification to see him in person... "How heartbreaking. I went through all that trouble to escape from Shattered Lake, yet you can't even recognize your prized student, Professor." He pulled down his mask, revealing a bright, refreshing smile. "Nice to meet you, Shilin Dole. I am Yaxiu Heath."