[Character]
ID K27216: Tang Cuo
Character Points: 30
Force: 16
Intelligence: 4
Charm: 0
Rating: A
Health: 98%
Survival is not easy; please keep up the good work.
The very first thing Tang Cuo did upon returning to Yong Ye City was allocate his points. He added 22 points to Force, 6 to Intelligence to round it out, and tossed the remaining 2 into Charm just to see what would happen.
The reward slots after allocating points were the main event.
[Holy Light Shield]
Category: Skill
Quality: Rare
Description: A supplementary skill for the Sword of Judgment. Utilizes the holy radiance of judgment to activate a shield. Duration: 15 seconds.
[Greenvines Emblem]
Category: Equipment
Quality: Advanced
Description: An emblem awarded to core members of the Greenvines Alliance, engraved with the skill “Teleportation.” The great Greenvines Alliance is a very considerate organization that customizes exclusive emblems for each member. However, it’s obvious that whether it was Popolo Island or Theodore’s older brother—the current Duke—both felt that a life-saving skill like “Teleportation” suited him best. Teleportation allows the player to instantly move to any location within a hundred-meter radius, unhindered by any skill restrictions.
Cooldown: 24 hours.
Another skill with a twenty-four-hour cooldown. The movement distance wasn’t huge, so it made sense that the quality was only Advanced. Still, teleportation definitely qualified as a life-saving skill, great for emergencies.
[A Farewell Letter]
Category: Mission Item
Quality: Common
Description: Batz’s farewell letter to Theodore and Lancelot.
Before leaving the instance, Tang Cuo had indeed stuffed the farewell letter into his pocket, but he hadn’t expected it to carry over. After two mission phases, he had accumulated several mission items, not knowing when they might come in handy.
After checking his rewards, Tang Cuo walked to the window and glanced outside.
There were more people on East Cross Street. Figures bustled back and forth along the long black stone street, and many stood by the roadside chatting. There was less panic and unease on their faces, replaced by a bit of calm.
The safe zone was finally, slowly, exerting its intended effect.
However, the population of East Cross Street would eventually reach saturation, and the people originally living here would one day have to leave. East Cross Street was merely a beginning, a buffer zone for fate.
After a few glances, Tang Cuo withdrew his gaze and prepared to take a shower. This instance had been very short with tightly packed missions; he and Jin Cheng hadn’t rested properly at all, much less washed up.
But just as Tang Cuo took off his jacket, Jin Cheng flipped in through the window.
“Does my room not have a door?” Tang Cuo asked sincerely.
“Don’t you think the window is closer?” Jin Cheng spread his hands and leaned back against the windowsill. “Besides, is Mr. Crow taking revenge on you? This broken window of yours still hasn’t been fixed. It’s completely unhindered.”
Is that so? You look like you’re in cahoots with Mr. Crow.
Tang Cuo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His hand, which was about to take off his clothes, gripped his hem instead as he asked, “Don’t you love flipping through windows? Now please flip back out. I’m going to take a shower.”
Jin Cheng raised an eyebrow. “We’re both men. What’s there to see about taking a shower?”
“Then you shower.”
“I didn’t say I wanted to shower.”
Then what about your germaphobia? Is it magically cured?
Tang Cuo really wanted to hit him.
Jin Cheng predictably compromised at this exact moment. “Alright, I’ll stop teasing. You look like you really want to hit me. I need to make a trip to the Ruby Tavern and will be back in a while. You rest first, no need to wait for me.”
Who wants to wait for you?
Tang Cuo remained expressionless, watching him leave. He didn’t expect that after vaulting onto the windowsill, Jin Cheng would look back and ask with a smile, “Want me to bring you a curtain?”
Tang Cuo: “If you’d be so kind.”
Jin Cheng: “You’re welcome.”
Tang Cuo: “…”
The personal curtain-shopper finally left.
Tang Cuo spent ten minutes taking a shower. While others washed away their fatigue in the shower, he somehow washed all his fatigue out to the surface. With no hairdryer to dry his hair afterward, he just collapsed onto the bed and quickly fell fast asleep.
When he woke up again, five hours had passed.
Jin Cheng was in his room again, again.
Tang Cuo sat up hugging his quilt. His hair was a mess, and his eyes wouldn’t quite open, narrowed into slits. Turning around and seeing him like this, Jin Cheng asked, “Did you go set off explosives before bed?”
Finding him too noisy, Tang Cuo simply buried his face back into the quilt.
Jin Cheng thought the messy hair all over the back of his head looked like a spun-sugar ball.
After a long while, Tang Cuo finally woke up properly. Acting as if nothing had happened, he threw off the quilt, got out of bed, wet his hands to smooth down his hair, and then glanced at the newly installed curtain. He silently thanked Jin Cheng in his heart, but refused to speak.
Jin Cheng had been waiting for him to talk. Since it never happened, he asked, “What are you throwing a tantrum over this time?”
Tang Cuo still didn’t speak.
Jin Cheng raised an eyebrow. Right then, he noticed Tang Cuo’s slightly pale complexion, and sudden realization struck him. “Is your hypoglycemia acting up again?”
Tang Cuo nodded, his distinct black-and-white eyes staring straight at Jin Cheng. Then, he pulled out his box of chocolate beans, shook it right in front of Jin Cheng’s face, and placed it on the small coffee table—it was empty.
“Alright, alright, I’ll go buy you some food, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jin Cheng helplessly got up and left, buying the nearest soy milk and steamed buns. When he returned, it was no surprise to see Tang Cuo paralyzed in the chair, playing dead.
“Get up.” Jin Cheng really didn’t know what to do with him. He’s my student; I have to serve him even on my knees. However, seeing Tang Cuo eating the food he bought, his cheeks puffed out, Jin Cheng felt a damned sense of accomplishment.
In a burst of good mood, he even poked the straw into the soy milk for Tang Cuo.
“The points reward this time was pretty high. A few more instances, and we can go to Zone E,” Jin Cheng said.
“How many points are needed to upgrade from Zone F to Zone E?” Tang Cuo asked.
“A total of 100 points, both allocated and unallocated.” Jin Cheng paused, suddenly remembering, “You still don’t know the specific upgrade standards for each zone, do you?”
Tang Cuo shrugged. He was still a rookie in Zone F; what use was there in knowing all that right now?
“For ordinary players, upgrading is actually a lengthy process. Even though Yong Ye City is a chaotic place with no sun, it has taverns, department stores, and even cinemas. Some people get used to life here, gradually become numb, and don’t want to leave. They’re like the welfare recipients of Yong Ye City, voluntarily entering the mission wall once a month to avoid triggering mandatory missions, handing over the required points, and if they’re lucky, just going on living like that.”
Tang Cuo thought back to the first person he met in Yong Ye City, Zhang Xing.
Jin Cheng continued, “Those who climb upward with all their might look down on those muddling through their days, while those content with the status quo find the hardworking ones ridiculous, not understanding what they are striving so hard in missions for. Yong Ye City constantly emphasizes survival, but very few understand the meaning of survival.”
Tang Cuo asked, “Do you understand it?”
Jin Cheng shrugged. He was no philosopher. But he was curious. Straddling the chair and resting his arms on its back, he asked, “You’ve been here for over half a month and have cleared several instances. Why haven’t you asked me why I don’t just share my points with you so you can allocate them?”
Tang Cuo retorted with a question of his own, “If sharing them with me was useful, why wouldn’t you have done it proactively?”
Jin Cheng: “Your logic is truly flawless.”
Jin Cheng didn’t know whether to be grateful for Tang Cuo’s trust or annoyed by this little bastard’s self-righteousness. He thought about it and explained anyway, “Points can be traded, but points not obtained from instances cannot be allocated to attributes; they can only be spent in Yong Ye City. They can be used to upgrade zones too, but the instances get harder the higher you go, so upgrading blindly is not a good thing.”
As an instructor, Jin Cheng still preferred Tang Cuo to build a solid foundation step by step.
“What about you?” Tang Cuo asked.
“Me?” Jin Cheng blinked, looking very innocent. “For someone demoted back to Zone F as a punishment, previous points can be used, but not for upgrading. To upgrade, I have to earn them all over again. That’s the punishment.”
Tang Cuo sipped his soy milk, his distinct black-and-white eyes continuously staring at him.
Jin Cheng met his gaze. No one spoke in the cramped room; it was dead silent. Being stared at like this, Jin Cheng absentmindedly recalled their time in the military camp. Whenever Tang Cuo refused to yield, he would stare straight at you just like this, like a little tiger.
It made him really want to pet him.
“Out with it. What do you want now?”
“I’m out of medicine.”
“Where are your points?”
“I allocated them all.”
Jin Cheng seemingly had no choice but to give him some. He transferred a hundred points right there and then. Looking at the pitiful few dozen points left in his own account, he suddenly felt like he had lost everything overnight.
However, there was a reason he was this broke.
“I got the latest release list from the Ruby Tavern. Poor Miaomiao. He didn’t do anything, but he still hasn’t been released. According to the people who got out, the warden plays games with them every day—tense and thrilling.”
“When he gets out, the first thing he’ll do is come after you for revenge.”
“That’s because you don’t understand Miaomiao. He won’t act rashly again anytime soon. On the contrary, the people from Tianzhi definitely won’t let this go. Even if Chong Yanzhang doesn’t want to come, his subordinates won’t be willing to drop it.”
Tang Cuo still remembered Tianzhi’s strategist, Jiang He, and the man who clearly disagreed with him, though he didn’t know his name. Just as he was thinking this, Jin Cheng mentioned them.
“But Jiang He is about to break ties with Tianzhi. The one you fought last time is named Chen Liu, a Tianzhi veteran. He was originally Chong Yanzhang’s most trusted right-hand man, but then Jiang He came along. The more Chong Yanzhang relied on Jiang He, the more petty Chen Liu became. Their conflict is irreconcilable, and Chong Yanzhang is bound to have to choose between the two of them.”
Tang Cuo pondered for a moment and said, “He will choose Chen Liu.”
“Correct.” Jin Cheng smiled. “If he chooses Jiang He, he gets a smart strategist, but he loses more than half of Tianzhi. The proportion of those veterans in Tianzhi is too large. Even if they know in their hearts that Chen Liu is acting out of emotion, the moment Chong Yanzhang abandons Chen Liu, there will inevitably be a backlash. Chong Yanzhang looks tough, but he still lacks the resolve to bear the cost of breaking everything down to build it back up.”
Hearing this, Tang Cuo asked, “Is this all you found out at the Ruby Tavern?”
Jin Cheng shook his head, a trace of seriousness suddenly appearing on his face. “Do you remember the little girl Chi Yan wanted to find? Someone confirmed that she’s still locked in prison, and in the same cell as Jiang He and Leng Miao, no less. But it’s very strange. She’s just a ten-year-old girl who died of cancer, yet she still hasn’t been released. The warden might be a psycho, but he’s not someone who breaks the rules like that.”
Tang Cuo frowned. “You think there’s a problem with her?”
“I don’t think it, I know it. You saved her at the Lucky Wheel, didn’t you?”
Tang Cuo didn’t deny it.
Jin Cheng continued, “In a place like Yong Ye City, gratitude is cheap. I hope that the next time you see her, you are as careful as possible. Remember what I told you? The elderly and children are the most terrifying.”
Tang Cuo fell silent. Truthfully, he couldn’t even remember the little girl’s face anymore, only her bald head. Perhaps his initial judgment of her had been wrong from the start.
Thinking back carefully, there seemed to have been a few drops of blood on the girl’s hospital gown.
But whatever happened next was still in the future, and Tang Cuo was never one to fret over things that hadn’t happened yet. Casually tossing the empty soy milk cup into the trash can, he walked to the window and opened the curtains.
Swish. Downstairs, the long black stone street looked the same as before.
Jin Cheng walked over to his side, looking down shoulder to shoulder with him. “Speaking of which, I asked about one more thing.”
Tang Cuo turned his head. “What?”
Jin Cheng relaxed, crossing his arms and leaning against the windowsill. “The Kingdom Hidden in Moonlight. The intel on this damn serial instance cost me over a hundred points, and I found out someone really has done it before.”
“Who?”
“Lin Yandong.”
Tang Cuo searched his memories, taking a few seconds to match the name to the person. “The boss of that madman Miao Qi?”
Jin Cheng nodded. “‘The elderly and children are the most terrifying.’ That ‘elderly’ refers to Lin Yandong. But he’s different from ordinary old men. I call him old simply because he entered Yong Ye City very early on. You’d be hard-pressed to find anyone in Zone A with more seniority than him.”
“When exactly did he die?”
“Before ’49.”
From 1949 to 2019, a full seventy years had passed, and there was still someone lingering in Yong Ye City? Tang Cuo was a little surprised, and slightly curious about what a person from that old era was truly like.
Jin Cheng continued, “The way Lin Yandong triggered the mission seems different from yours. His wasn’t a serial instance, but a single mission. However, the intel says he has an item he brought out of that instance. We might want to go meet him. This serial instance is too massive; it’s definitely going to get harder the further we go.”
Tang Cuo had no objections, so he went along with him.
Honestly, he was still somewhat caught up in the plot of the instance, because the people in it were far too real—so real that they seemed no different from the players downstairs.
“Do you think the deaths of Lancelot and Theodore have something to do with Batz?” he suddenly asked.
“Who knows?” Jin Cheng shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of an unyielding tuft of hair on the back of Tang Cuo’s head that had popped right back up after being smoothed down with water. Unable to hold back any longer, he reached out and gave it a ruffle.
Afterward, he even offered a critique: “Next time you should blow-dry your hair before sleeping.”
Tang Cuo’s face darkened. “I don’t have a hairdryer.”
Jin Cheng: “I’ll buy you one, okay?”
Tang Cuo: “Then you can put your hand down.”
Jin Cheng: “Oh.”
Jin Cheng’s mood suddenly became a bit delicate.
