Chapter 72: The Experience of a Seasoned Player

Han Shi still couldn't figure out how he, his boss, and Baldy had gotten separated from the main team and ended up in this godforsaken new dungeon world.

They were core members of the Iron Armor Squad's C-rank dungeon assault team, whose livelihood depended on gathering dungeon intel, investigating dungeon outputs, and formulating assault plans.

They knew the Quiet Town inside and out—he even remembered clearly when it first appeared 74 days ago.

Each to his own craft; he had absolute confidence in his professional abilities.

No one understood C-rank dungeons better than their trio.

A dungeon that had only appeared 74 days ago—how hard could it possibly be? That little brat from the Administration thought he could fool them? The idea was laughable.

But he and his boss understood: Baldy's will had shattered during a dungeon assault, and though they saved his life afterward, it left him with a permanent wound.

When he had an episode, he saw everyone as his first love and would uncontrollably feel the urge to do something reckless.

It was bad—but he and his boss couldn't say anything.

Because Baldy had shattered his will to save the two of them, no matter how much trouble he caused, they had to clean up after him.

After all, they owed him their lives.

That kid from the Administration tried to tie them down by assigning each of them a profession through the dungeon's random allocation system, to keep them from harassing the newcomers.

Though the kid definitely exaggerated the importance of the work, the Quiet Town dungeon did have something strange about it.

They were randomly assigned as shipwright, lumberjack, and porter.

The assigned tasks weren't many, but the weird part was: every time they completed a task, their strength cap was reduced.

Baldy had tried it—he worked harder, lost more, but the only reward was slightly better treatment from the townsfolk.

What the hell.

Back when they three brothers cleared the Sakura Island dungeon, taking turns boosting the Shogun's wife's favor, it wasn't this grueling.

For safety's sake, his boss and Baldy kept working, while he, whose strength was lower than theirs, held back his power and stayed on standby.

In short—he was slacking off.

He pulled out a miniaturized staff, infused it with energy, and the gem at its tip glowed red.

He brought the glowing red gem to his lips and lit the pipe he was smoking.

He drew a deep breath and exhaled a perfect smoke ring.

Not working really felt good.

Working? Never. Not in this lifetime.

He'd never held a job in the real world—why would he become a laborer in a dungeon world?

Just as he was enjoying the beautiful dusk, a man in a postal uniform walked toward him.

He recognized the postman—one of the Administration's new recruits.

What was his name again? Something like "Trash"?

"Kid, what're you staring at?" He blew a puff of smoke toward Wu Chang, challenging.

The postman clearly was a newbie—he froze up at the shout, nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

"I—I wasn't staring at anything. I just thought, since we're both players, we should say hello." Wu Chang's face turned red with embarrassment.

Han Shi took another puff from his pipe and asked, "You said hello. Anything else?"

Wu Chang shook his head. "No other business. I just wanted to remind you—finish your work. Sword Star said completing work is important."

Han Shi exhaled smoke through his nostrils—he sensed this newbie was a total greenhorn.

Since he had nothing better to do, he decided to mess with him a bit.

"Have you finished your work yet?"

Wu Chang smiled awkwardly. "I tried delivering two packages, but each one costs me 0.3 of my willpower cap. With my stats, I can't handle much."

"So what did you get for spending 0.6 willpower cap?"

"The townsfolk's favor toward me seems to have gone up a little."

Han Shi shook his head inwardly—greenhorn through and through. Though sharp enough to notice the townsfolk's favor shift, he'd blabbed out hard-won intel after just two sentences.

Every piece of intel was money. That completing work increased favor—and that different jobs drained different stats—those two facts, if packaged right, could easily sell for a thousand Rotting Silver Coins outside.

He pressed down the tobacco in his pipe and said:

"Let me tell you—even if a dungeon is hard, there are still basic rules. Has the town posted any notice saying what happens if you don't work?"

"No," Wu Chang shook his head.

"Then that's it. Soft rules aren't completely untouchable. When you hit their bottom line, someone will come to warn you—then you can adjust."

Han Shi glanced at Wu Chang, calm and composed, radiating seasoned experience.

"But you must know—once you lose stats, they're gone for good."

Wu Chang's eyes lit up with sudden understanding, gazing at Han Shi like he'd just discovered a sage.

"So that's how it is! Seasoned players really are experienced!"

Flattered by Wu Chang's praise, Han Shi smirked and continued:

"You free agents are all about empty reputation—wave your hand, and they scamper over to become the Administration's peripheral members."

"Someone like you, with mediocre talent, won't learn a thing in the Administration. It's too big—upper management doesn't even know who you are. But groups like our Iron Armor Squad? That's where you get real training and learn actual skills..."

Every seasoned player knew how hard it was to gather intel in a dungeon—and even harder to verify it.

A naive fool like Wu Chang, who handed out intel so freely, was rare—Han Shi wouldn't miss this chance.

He immediately launched into a full pitch, telling Wu Chang that joining the Iron Armor Squad was his only future.

He promised that if Wu Chang repeated everything Sword Star had told them, and when his time as an assistant ran out with no hope of permanent status, he'd personally guarantee Wu Chang's entry into the Iron Armor Squad.

Han Shi spun wild tales and made grand promises; Wu Chang, dazed and clueless, believed every word.

Suddenly, night fell completely, and the shipyard workers clocked out.

"Alright, that's enough for today. If you've got any insights tomorrow, come find me here. If not, go about your own business."

Han Shi brushed the dust off his clothes and immediately sent Wu Chang away.

Wu Chang nodded and obediently turned to leave.

Han Shi went to the town's restaurant and ordered a fried egg and sea fish set meal; the server noticed his grim expression.

Information spread quickly in the small town; once a lazybones arrived, everyone would know within moments.

No one gave lazybones a good face—the server, whose fingernails were caked with dirt, even jabbed his thumb directly into the fish meat.

Han Shi felt a wave of nausea and shouted, "Give me another one."

The server replied politely, "Eat it or get out."

Han Shi's short temper flared—he grabbed the server's hair and shoved the contaminated piece of fish into his mouth.

Then he walked straight into the kitchen, took a raw fish, and turned to leave.

The temporary lodging of the Iron Armor Squad's three members was a row of three connected wooden houses on the town's edge.

Outsiders usually lived in such peripheral areas.

Due to its isolation, travel required passing through several stretches of desolate, uninhabited paths.

Han Shi, hungry and seething with anger, was not afraid of the paths—in fact, he looked forward to them.

If some fool dared to attack him, it would be the perfect chance to vent his rage and gather some intelligence.

He strode down the path, holding the fish, and vanished into thin air.

Thirty meters from where Han Shi disappeared, the ethereal Wu Chang slowly materialized.

He clicked his tongue and muttered under his breath:

"You're clearly experienced—you know how to avoid dangers in the instance, and that when the soft rules are severely violated, you get a warning first, then punishment."

"But did your experience ever tell you this instance has a hidden world—and that it targets players who break the rules first?"

(End of Chapter)