Chapter Six: The Game Begins!
Everyone was visibly excited; even Xue Han, who rarely smiled, was grinning like a blooming flower.
After shopping, Xu Lin called an impromptu meeting to discuss the launch: “Everyone’s class has already been assigned, but we can’t say for sure what the game will actually be like, whether there’ll be a newbie village or not. So far, nearly a hundred million helmets have been distributed worldwide, but there’s only one server. If there aren’t many newbie villages, they’ll probably be packed to bursting. My suggestion is that, at first, everyone plays separately for a while. The game opens tonight at midnight, so we can sleep in the afternoon, get up at eleven for dinner, and log in right at twelve. Tomorrow morning, we’ll log off at eight sharp and report our progress. Any questions?”
Xinyu put down her cup. “Staying up late isn’t exactly good for your skin, and eating dinner at ten at night is a bit much, isn’t it?”
Xu Lin’s expression didn’t change. “You don’t have to log in, but from now on, salaries will be based on everyone’s contribution to the family. It’s your choice.”
“Forget it, the game matters more…”
No one had any objections, so everyone returned to their rooms to sleep. Xue Han followed behind me into the inner room, even sticking out her tongue at me before going in—leaving me a bit baffled.
I decided to treat it as an afternoon nap, but I woke up before three. When dinner finally rolled around, I ate, but couldn’t fall back asleep. So I opened up Moonshade’s forum, hoping to find some useful information.
At the top was a pinned thread titled “Innate Talent: Absolute Shock!” which explained that, although the official site hadn’t released details, reliable sources claimed that each player would be randomly assigned an innate talent when creating their character. No one knew exactly what “talent” entailed, but at least it wouldn’t affect game balance. Since each account was tied to one person and you couldn’t create a new character for a month after deleting one, there was little chance for talent farming—it all depended on luck!
I browsed a few other threads, but most were just speculation; useful information was rare. Clearly, Moonshade’s secrecy was airtight.
By eleven, after what felt like an eternity, Xue Han arrived right on time to drag me out for a midnight snack. She didn’t look like she’d just woken up either—she hadn’t even washed off her light makeup.
With less than an hour until launch, the beauties no longer cared about maintaining their image; they wolfed down their food and hurried back to their rooms. Only Liu Yun, always quiet, stayed with me to finish the egg soup.
Liu Yun was a delicate, gentle woman. I’d always wondered why she got into this line of work, but never dared to ask. She merely gave me a polite smile, then returned to her room.
I shook my head, surveyed the messy table, and cleaned everything up before heading back to my room. By the time I finished, it was already 11:50—just ten minutes until the game went live!
I put on the helmet, skipped the opening animation, and found myself staring at Moonshade’s backdrop, with a giant countdown in the center.
Seconds ticked by as I stared at the screen. I figured at least several million people around the globe were watching this countdown along with me. In online game novels, the first few to enter often receive rewards—legendary gear and such. Who knew? Maybe luck would be on my side.
“Ten!”
“Nine!”
“Eight!”
…
“Three!”
“Two!”
“One!”
The screen flickered, and I was thrown straight into the character creation interface. “Please create your character!” the system prompted.
I chose Human without hesitation. Elves were too dainty, lacking masculinity. Orcs… better not.
“Please enter your game nickname!” the system continued.
I blurted out, “Greens-and-Tofu!”
“Sorry, that name is already taken!”
“Greens-and-Jade-Soup!”
“Nickname accepted. Now scanning facial features—would you like to modify them?”
I glanced at the young man opposite who looked exactly like me. That would make me easy to recognize, so I tweaked my features a bit. That would do!
“Congratulations! Your account is created. Enter the game now?”
I hit enter without hesitation. The screen shifted, and I found myself in a dilapidated village.
Ding!
System prompt:
“You are player number 1,250,003 to enter the game!”
“Congratulations! You have acquired the talent ‘Stealth!’”
Stealth? What’s that supposed to be?
I immediately opened my skill and character panels. At the bottom, under talents, was “Stealth!”
I clicked to check and was instantly dumbfounded.
Talent—Stealth: Hide in darkness. Monsters or players up to five levels below your own cannot detect you from more than four yards away. Stealth ends upon movement. Cooldown: five minutes.
What was this supposed to be? Lying in wait? Playing dead?
Weren’t talents supposed to be important? Did this mean my account was already useless?
Well, whatever. I’d see for myself!
I opened the map. The village I was in was called Wild Dog Village. I could hear the howling of wild dogs from time to time. The name was crude, but fitting.
A constant stream of players poured out from the village center—strong orcs in their underwear, elf maidens in bras…
I checked my character’s equipment—truly pitiful:
Tattered Tunic
Defense: +2
Tattered Leggings
Defense: +1
Tattered Shortsword
Attack: 1-2
My character’s base stats, with gear bonuses, were all at bare minimum. Even as a human, my attack with a weapon was only 2-3. I had no idea what I could actually do with that.
In the distance, a soldier paced around the village. I approached and struck up a conversation—there was actually a quest!
“Lately, a pack of wild dogs has surrounded the village. The villagers are too frightened to go outside. Will you help us get rid of these ignorant beasts?”
I clicked to accept. The next step appeared: “Kill twenty wild dogs and deliver their pelts to Village Defense Officer Hark!”