Chapter 264: A Million Qualifications, A Strange Hometown

【The game is about to undergo a version update. The contents of this update are as follows】:

Poster: Guide (Verified)

Update Content One: The new area, Sun-Chasing Lands, is officially open.

New Area Location: North of the Pale Continent, southern region of the Thunder Continent.

New Area Introduction: The Sun-Chasing Lands is a rift valley in the Thunder Continent region, formed from the blazing-gold fragments released after the ancient god "Kacha" fell. The entire area is bathed in an eternally unsetting dusk, with three small suns orbiting in interwoven motion across the horizon, shrouding the region…..

Update Content Two: The Recall function is officially launched.

Content Introduction: A new "Recall" function has been added to the function panel. After using it, the player must wait 5 seconds, during which they may choose to cancel the recall. Once the countdown ends, the player will return to Huicheng in the form of death and enter a one-hour resurrection cooldown.

Update Content Three: Player qualification distribution.

Content Introduction: Tourists who have not yet obtained game qualifications may visit the Monster World official website to learn the specific distribution time for qualifications.

The game's update contents sparked discussion on the forums.

For players who had already obtained game qualifications, nothing made them happier than the launch of the "Recall" function.

This meant that going forward, the biggest drawback of using "Quick Return to City" had been resolved.

Secondly, some veteran players also complained.

The treatment for newbie players is getting better and better.

Now even death-return-to-city has shed its self-service mode and been changed to one-click automatic.

And the far more numerous cloud players, upon seeing the pinned version update contents on the forum, cared even more about the number of game qualifications being distributed this time.

When they logged onto the Monster World official website,

what they saw was a qualification application that had not yet opened, along with a number marker hanging on the page.

Upon learning that Monster World was actually going to distribute 2 million player qualifications this time, all the cloud players were immensely excited.

No matter how much they watched livestreams, it was not as good as experiencing it firsthand.

A new round of qualification distribution was arriving once again, and no one wanted to miss this chance.

Even if the probability of getting a qualification was extremely low.

That day, the headlines of every major media outlet in the real world were about Monster World distributing 2 million qualifications.

Including the posts on the trending lists of city forums for every race, they were all discussions about this sudden distribution of 2 million game qualifications.

Compared to before, the probability of obtaining a qualification this time had greatly increased.

Members of every race were immensely looking forward to it.

……

Data City.

This was a city most recently built by the Human Race.

The infrastructure renovation of many old cities was overly complicated. The old, dilapidated buildings were like blood clots in the veins, the various corroded pipelines like stubborn scars, and every renovation was like performing CPR on a dying patient.

Thus, the Human Race's higher-ups proposed the "Future City Construction Plan."

Data City was the first future city.

This was also the Human Race's first super city in the true sense. Although the population was still not large, it showed a growth trend every year.

Those who could live here were generally the Human Race's top talents.

The city's infrastructure was all planned by the most advanced intelligence cores, and it rose from the ground in just five years.

This place was also a testing ground for the latest technology, where various novel technologies were applied and tested.

Data City was like a future city template, providing reference plans for the reconstruction of other cities, and even for building new ones.

The night was ink-black, but the city had not yet fallen asleep.

The city's skyline was sliced into fragmented geometric shapes by holographic projections, with enormous billboards suspended in mid-air, flickering with fluorescent light.

The slogan "Welcome to the Future" drifted across the city sky atop hovercraft.

Below the city, streams of hovering cars wove through like ribbons of light, the hum of engines mingling with electronically synthesized music.

The exterior wall of every high-rise was decorated with screens, scrolling and playing advertisements, information, and other content.

A corner of the city.

Rain fell from the artificial cloud layer, refracting through the neon lights to display brilliant colors.

Ji Chen sat beneath a holographic billboard, his age-spotted hand clutching an identity report soaked by the rain.

A hovering car flying overhead stirred up a gust of damp wind, blowing open the tattered hood on his body and revealing a wrinkled, aged face. His left eye was a cloudy grayish-white; only his right eye still remained clear.

He lowered his head at this moment, his gaze focusing on the rain-soaked report in his hand, which clearly read:

【Name: Ji Chen】

【Age:???】

【Identity Code: sj-7429-2057】

【Area of Residence: Data City District 13, Vertical Block - Building C - Room 17.】

【Occupation: None.】

His gaze lifting from the paper, Ji Chen's eyes swept across the billboards filling the streets.

Watching 3D virtual idols break free from the billboards and switch poses in mid-air, his pupils contracted slightly.

Everything around him felt unfamiliar.

"Ji Chen, you have now obtained your freedom, but all your actions must comply with Data City's regulations. If you encounter any issues during the process of adjusting to your new life, you may contact me."

A woman's voice came from the silver wristband.

Ji Chen lowered his head to look at his wrist, where the image of a woman in a blue uniform was projected.

"I understand," Ji Chen nodded faintly.

"Your situation is rather complicated. The technical materials you provided are being verified with urgency, and I will contact you again later… In short, welcome back."

Ji Chen nodded again and reached out to end the conversation himself.

Standing up, he decided to head to his new home first.

"Hey, move!"

Just then, a blond-haired teenager riding a hoverboard whizzed past him, nearly colliding.

Ji Chen reflexively raised his hand; instantly, an invisible force gathered, and the board, as if hitting a transparent wall, was catapulted away along with its rider.

"What the hell?" The young man slammed onto the ground, clutching the back of his head as he looked around, his gaze finally landing on Ji Chen:

"What did you do?"

"Sorry," Ji Chen said, ignoring the youth and walking straight toward the navigation address floating on his wrist.

One hour later.

"Verification passed. Welcome home, Master."

A blue light scanned across the door lock, and the metal door slid open automatically.

Stepping inside, the lights turned on automatically.

"Indoor temperature: 23 degrees Celsius. Air quality: Excellent."

The voice of the house butler came from the ceiling:

"Your heart rate is elevated. We recommend drinking a soothing agent."

Ji Chen ignored it, his gaze sweeping over this unfamiliar home; this was his first time here.

The novel technology he had never encountered before made him curious.

The room's overall space had a hexagonal structure, with walls made of color-changing smart glass, currently simulating a morning light tone.

An entire wall on the left was a data display screen, where various indicators of Data City scrolled in real time, including atmospheric pressure, today's simulated weather, hover-vehicle traffic volume, regional network load, and so on.

After walking around the room, Ji Chen finally sat down at the computer desk.

After searching around, he still couldn't find the power button for the monitor on the desk.

So Ji Chen crouched down and began searching under the desk.

"Do you need help?" the house butler suddenly asked.

"Where is the computer's power button?"

"Powering on for you now." The house butler directly woke up the semi-transparent monitor.

"Where is the mouse?"

"No mouse equipment has been purchased for the room yet. Perhaps you can use the neural-sensing bracelet you are wearing for control. Would you like to connect?"

"Connect."

Instantly, a holographic prompt popped up from the silver-white bracelet on his right wrist, displaying a successful connection.

Ji Chen tried waving his wrist, and the cursor on the screen moved accordingly.

"Not convenient. A mouse is still easier."

"Your preference has been recorded. A mouse sized to fit your palm has been ordered for you and will be delivered in two hours."

Hearing this, Ji Chen froze.

"Does ordering not require money?"

"Citizens of Data City are composed of descendants of martyrs from the Mechanical War, top technical talents... According to Article 7, Chapter 3 of the 'Data City Livelihood Security White Paper,' all Data City citizens enjoy a basic annual consumption quota of 20,000 credit points, an electricity quota of 8,500 degrees, and printing permissions for 20 cubic nanometers of synthetic material."

After hearing the house butler's reply, Ji Chen fell silent.

This world made him feel alien.

His gaze turned to the monitor, and he opened the browser.

The navigation page included: Database Query.

Curious, Ji Chen opened the database query function and entered his own name.

Instantly, a large amount of information appeared on the webpage; there were too many people with the same name and surname.

Fortunately, there was a search function in the upper right corner to assist in searching for data.

He adjusted the time to the year 2325, which was 223 years ago.

Instantly, the listed information pages decreased by more than half, the content in the search bar changed, and the city name became completely different.

He found the city where he once lived, clicked confirm, and then set the gender to: Male.

After a search, he found the data he wanted.

【Morning Mist Evening News, Social Section (March 18, 2325)】

Title: Investigation into a Bizarre Disappearance Case; Intern Researcher Missing.

【Reporter Lin Xie Yue Ru of this newspaper】: According to the missing person notice released by the Police Department today, 27-year-old man Ji Chen has been missing since the evening of March 15.

According to colleagues, Ji Chen left the Seventh Research Institute normally after finishing his shift that day but never returned to his residence.

Timeline reconstruction: 18:30, captured by building surveillance entering the elevator alone.

18:31, the elevator stopped at the 47th floor; after the doors opened, only an empty cabin was seen...

Ji Chen's hand hovered above the file, his fingers trembling slightly.

The blue light of the holographic projection reflected on his face, making the wrinkles already etched into his cheeks appear even deeper.

In the news illustration, the young photo in the surveillance screenshot made his throat tighten.

That was himself from over 200 years ago, wearing the light gray uniform of the Seventh Research Institute, standing in the corner of the elevator.

In the photo, he was looking up at the camera, a faint smile on his lips, as if he knew what would happen to him next.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his profile page.

The cursor hovered over the search bar for a long time; finally, he entered his father Ji Ji Mingyuan's and his mother Lin Ya's names.

After the search, the parents' information appeared in sequence.

Ji Ji Mingyuan (passed away 2391.8.15, aged 89)

Lin Ya (passed away 2398.3.21, aged 93)

Cemetery coordinates: Sky Park, Zone E, Row 7 (demolished)

Seeing that both parents had lived to nearly a hundred years of age.

Ji Chen suddenly laughed, but the laughter was mixed with choking sobs.

During the long years away from Earth, he had imagined countless times what his parents would look like with white hair.

He had also strived countless times to return, but in the end, he had arrived too late.

"Butler, did they leave any video records?" Ji Chen struggled to utter the request.

"Searching... Most video data is lost. Only one video left by Lin Ya was found. Since the parties involved have passed away and the fifty-year confidentiality period has expired, viewing can be applied for."

"View it."

Projections scattered from the ceiling; an elderly woman sitting in a wheelchair appeared in the frame, her silver hair combed meticulously.

Her signature pursed-lip gesture made Ji Chen smile with understanding.

"Xiao Xing," Mother's voice was much more hoarse than in his memory, "keep these old photos safe... especially this one."

Her trembling hand held up a yellowed photograph.

Ji Chen held his breath; it was exactly the group photo of the three of them at the entrance of the Seventh Research Institute on his twenty-seventh birthday.

The self in the photo wore a light gray uniform, standing between his parents and smiling foolishly.

"The year your brother went missing, you were not yet born." Mother gently rubbed the photo with her fingertip:

"Until the very end, your father still went to the police station every Wednesday to ask about progress. He never let go in this life; even before leaving, he was still thinking of him in his mouth."

Raindrops beat against the window, but in Ji Chen's ears, only Mother's voice from the video remained.

"Remember how you always asked when you were little why your brother's room was kept exactly the same? The reason is actually simple. We always had unrealistic fantasies that he might return one day. If he saw his room changed, how sad he would be."

"Xiao Xing, Mom knows you are busy developing weapons. This might be the last video Mom leaves for you. Mom's body has reached its limit; finally, I can go find your father and your brother."

The video ended there.

The instant the light and shadow dimmed, Ji Chen saw the reflection of his own aged face on the desktop screen.

A person who should have been dead was now sitting in the future two hundred years later, listening to his mother's dying words to another son.

Ji Chen's chest felt as if squeezed by an invisible hand, making breathing difficult.

More than two hundred years of time were enough to grind down many things.

Those inhuman tortures and the loneliness capable of destroying will had long forged him into a silent shell.

He thought his emotions would be hard to stir up again.

But at this moment, facing this most plain dying video, his emotions could not be suppressed.

Mother's voice crossed more than two hundred years of time, gently tapping his eardrums, piercing precisely into the heart he thought had long since withered and died.

It turned out some pain had never truly gone numb.

A tear slid from his only remaining right eye, splashing onto the back of his hand.

He slowly raised his hand, touched the screen, and his fingertips gently stroked the face in Mother's aged photo.

"Mom, I'm back." His voice was so hoarse it was unrecognizable.

More than two hundred years of time lay in between; even this call seemed so pale.

Even after experiencing so much and seeing all the vicissitudes of the other world, at this moment Ji Chen still felt like a child lost for too long.

Those edges, polished cold and hard by time, shattered completely in this call that could not be delivered.

The neon lights outside the window dyed the rain into mottled colors; the light trails of floating cars traced fleeting paths across the night sky.

Ji Chen's eyes became hazy, and his heart suddenly felt utterly lost.

Memories with his parents were like an old window sealed with dust for many years.

Now it was suddenly pushed open.

Those scenes he thought were blurred were now so clear they made his heart tremble.

He remembered how Father always loved peeling apples after dinner, his rough fingers holding a small knife, pulling the peel into a long spiral.

Mother's hands always carried a faint scent of hand cream; she would always complain that the father and son had turned the study into a scrap station, and often replaced the coffee Father wanted with warm milk good for the stomach.

Every time Father went out, his leather shoes were polished to a brilliant shine.

When Mother cooked, she would unconsciously hum.

The pothos on the balcony died and lived, lived and died; none of the three in the family could remember to water it.

These trivial daily details suddenly became so vivid.

For more than two hundred years, he thought he had forgotten irrelevant details, but now they rushed to his mind one after another, making Ji Chen feel suffocated.

Those scenes that could never be returned to were carved into his mind, knife stroke by knife stroke.

Taking a deep breath again, Ji Chen looked up at the screen and reset the search function.

Not long after, new information appeared.

【Ji Xing (2326-2405)】

Introduction: New weapon researcher, died in the city-slaughtering operation by the descending faction "Twin-Blade Clan".

Marital status: Unmarried.

Direct descendants: None.

After the younger brother died, their lineage had no direct descendants.

Toward the brother he had never met, he felt nothing at all.

But toward the bloodline left behind by his parents, he could not, in the end, be completely indifferent.

He recalled the words his father was always muttering:

"Our old Ji family…."

This younger brother, called Ji Xing, was the child into whom his parents had poured all their longing and expectation after losing him.

He was also the bloodline that carried on the same surname and bore the hopes his parents held for the rest of their lives.

But now, that thread had been severed as well.

A quiet sense of regret began to sprout in his heart, and memories of the other world came flooding back.

In his parents' eyes, he had simply vanished.

But the truth was far more absurd than a disappearance — because he had transmigrated.

Ji Chen remembered clearly that, while riding an elevator, he had been swallowed by a blinding white light.

When he opened his eyes again, he was already in a world where twelve blood moons hung suspended.

On the teleportation altar with him were figures of all kinds — beings of different races.

Winged folk with scaled wings on their backs, Forestfolk with bark-like skin….

Before the altar, upon a towering white throne, a self-proclaimed deity called "Bai Yao" let silver-cascade hair tumble down.

When its finger swept across, a searing mark was branded onto his forehead.

A snowflake-shaped rune that kept spinning — it meant he had officially become a provider.

It could also be understood as: a slave.

But before he could learn about the other world, Bai Yao killed a batch of randomly summoned beings that did not meet the conditions, leaving only those of flesh and blood.

After that, Bai Yao used a form of consciousness-communication to teach them a cultivation method: Blood Sacrifice Offering.

It was less a cultivation method than a special contract.

They had to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth as required, converting it into blood-colored energy stored within their bodies.

Every so often, that energy would be automatically transmitted to Bai Yao through the brand, as the price paid for the right to live.

During the long slave years, the beings of other races who had arrived with him broke down one after another.

Ironically, he — the weakest being at the moment of arrival — stubbornly survived.

Every night, curled up in a dark corner, watching blood-colored patterns slither through his veins like venomous snakes, he had thought about death.

He loathed this body, ravaged until riddled with wounds — even every breath carried a foul rust-like stench.

He could not see what meaning there was in going on living; rather than enduring torment day after day, better to grant himself release.

But the appearance of one being of another race changed his mind.

It was a night of the full moon; he was curled up in the shadows.

At that moment, a slender figure sat down beside him.

Its scales gleamed with a dark-gold sheen in the moonlight; even with the slave brand seared into it, its spine remained ramrod straight.

When the other beings groaned in agony from the blood sacrifice, it merely smiled, utterly unbothered.

This newly arrived slave left a very deep impression on him at their very first meeting.

Through day after day of contact, they began trying to communicate.

He remembered clearly the first words this fellow called "Long Yi" said to him:

"Hey, do you know the difference between a warrior and a beast?"

As he spoke those words, flame-shadows danced in Long Yi's slit pupils.

He said nothing, but Long Yi, unprompted, stretched out his right claw and pointed at his own forehead:

"A beast accepts its fate the moment it's tied up, but a warrior thinks about when he can bite through the enemy's throat."

Those words also laid the groundwork for Long Yi's counterattack.

Unwilling to remain a prisoner, Long Yi was always waiting for an opportunity.

Before that, he reined in his edge, lay low in the shadows, let Bai Yao's brand drain energy from his body — but inwardly he had never truly submitted.

Even when forced to bow his head, even as he endured the agony of the blood sacrifice at every moment, the spark of resistance in his heart never went out.

Long Yi's fighting spirit infected him as well.

Just as Long Yi had said:

"Rather than rotting in shackles, better to burn for an instant in raging flames — dying in the most brilliant way isn't bad either."

Those words were like a sharp knife, slicing open the cowardice buried deepest in Ji Chen's heart.

He made his decision: he would follow Long Yi and rise up against Bai Yao.

In the days that followed, Long Yi taught him many things — among them how to steal the energy that should have been transmitted to Bai Yao.

Every time Bai Yao was mentioned, Long Yi always wore an expression of contempt.

He said Bai Yao was merely a slightly stronger being from a small world, utterly unworthy of the title of deity.

In the days that followed, the patrol routes of the Bai Yao race's guards, the weak points in their defenses… all such intelligence was gradually gathered.

When the other slaves collapsed in despair, the group centered on Long Yi quietly accumulated its own strength.

In the long wait, the opportunity finally appeared.

The frequency at which Bai Yao drew energy suddenly increased; when summoning beings from another world once again, the Bai Yao that arrived was clearly Shen Shou Zhong, in very poor condition.

This was the perfect opportunity in Long Yi's eyes.

Once Bai Yao departed, the breakout began.

Long Yi's sharp claw was the first to tear open the throat of a Bai Yao race guard.

Ji Chen followed right behind, unleashing all the energy he had secretly hoarded — the blood-sacrifice patterns burning Xiong Xiong.

This was not a battle between evenly matched foes, but a path to survival torn open by a pack of cornered beasts with their very lives, with people falling along the way.

At the time, his gaze was locked dead on the Dragonkin charging at the very front, knowing only to follow in the Dragonkin's footsteps.

In the end, they broke through the final barrier, escaped the prison, and entered the Eternal Night Forest wreathed in white mist.

But the war had only just begun.

In the years that followed, this band of escaped slaves, led by the Dragonkin, launched a counterattack.

They raided Bai Yao's spiritual ore veins, sabotaged sacrificial formations, and rescued newly summoned people.

The Dragonkin always charged at the very front; even as its scales grew mottled day by day, the flame in its eyes never dimmed.

Ji Chen often saw it standing at the edge of a cliff, gazing toward the direction of the Bai Yao city.

There hung twelve blood moons that never fell, along with the dignity and freedom that had once been taken from them.

The night wind lifted the Dragonkin's tattered wing membranes, but its face was always brimming with confidence, and it would turn with a smile and say to him:

"The biggest mistake Bai Yao ever made was summoning me to this world."

This war held no epic grandeur—only the spreading firelight within the Eternal Night Forest, and the ever-growing cracks upon the city walls.

Learning that the Bai Yao race had hostile forces in this world, the Dragonkin led them to make contact with alien races, gaining resource support by way of aiding the war.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

The Dragonkin was undoubtedly an outstanding leader; under its command, the resistance steadily grew.

This war lasted close to a hundred years.

The Dragonkin fulfilled the promise it had made back then.

And he, following the Dragonkin, had successfully stood atop that city that had once buried freedom.

He remembered how he felt at the time.

Looking down upon the city's ruins, looking back upon the efforts of the past—it all felt like a dream.

When he looked up at the Dragonkin, he discovered that, at some unknown point, nearly all of its scales had peeled away, revealing magma-like flesh beneath the skin.

But the broken wings it spread were more unfurled than ever.

There were no cheers, no declarations—only the whimper of the night wind sweeping ashes across the scorched earth, a funeral dirge for the Bai Yao race.

The Dragonkin also looked toward him at that moment, grinning arrogantly:

"Chen, freedom was never a gift bestowed by others, but a trophy torn from the throat of fate with teeth and claws."

He asked the Dragonkin then where the future would lead.

The Dragonkin answered with a smile:

"The altar is still there. I'll read the information inside, then find the road home."

As it spoke these words, anticipation burned in the Dragonkin's slit pupils, and it continued:

"This world was never my destination. My battlefield lies in a vaster world—that too is the lifelong pursuit of my kin, the most dazzling world in the void, a battlefield only true strongholds are qualified to set foot upon. My future and that of my kin belong there."

"And this corner of the world is merely a waystation that happened to appear in my life. I've already lingered here far too long."

Back then, he curiously asked the Dragonkin what kind of world it pursued.

The Dragonkin's answer was:

"It's a world where bones pave the steps, where the weak don't even have the right to look up. There's no need for you to follow."

Realizing this might be his last time together with the Dragonkin, he offered his blessing:

"Dragonkin, I believe you will stand at the pinnacle of that world as well."

Hearing these words, the Dragonkin merely turned with a smile and clapped him on the shoulder:

"Wrong. Though I am confident, I also know how grueling the challenges are that come with choosing this path. I will most likely die in battle in that world, but I will spend my whole life paving steps upward for my kin—generation lifting generation. I firmly believe my descendants can stand at the peak of that world."

After this exchange, the Dragonkin soon deciphered the spatial information stored within the altar.

It found the road home, and found the spatial coordinates for his return to Earth as well.

The Dragonkin stepped into the teleportation first.

At the very last moment, the Dragonkin left only two words:

"Gone."

No farewell, no parting words.

Ji Chen had only just opened his mouth when he saw the Dragonkin already step into the spatial rift.

The last thing he saw was the Dragonkin's back casually waving a claw at him as it departed.

He couldn't help but curse out loud, but as he cursed, he suddenly burst out laughing.

Because this was the Dragonkin's style—even goodbyes had to be done in the most carefree way.

Over a hundred years of bonds had, in the end, reached a crossroads.

And after the Dragonkin's departure, he too stepped onto the teleportation array.

He didn't possess the Dragonkin's carefree nature; before leaving, his mind was filled with memories.

Those hot-blooded years of fighting side by side, those nights sharing cold dew in the Eternal Night Forest, those moments of smiling at each other beneath the blood moons… in the end, they all dissolved into a sigh, scattered into the wind of a foreign world.

The Dragonkin was born to soar across the nine heavens.

And he, after all, had to return to that world where his parents still waited.

His thoughts returned to the present.

Only this homeland he had once yearned for day and night could no longer offer the warmth of old, bringing him only a sense of alienation and strangeness.

Upon first arriving, he had even been interrogated as an intruder.

During that time, he explained his situation to the city administrators and submitted the technical materials he had brought back from the other world.

In the end, he received a new identity and became a resident of Data City.

Closing the webpage, Ji Chen felt only confusion in his heart.

He wasn't sure where he should go from here, or what kind of life he should live in the future.

After a long silence, Ji Chen spoke up and asked:

"Butler, is there any way to quickly integrate into this world?"

"I suggest trying virtual games. There, besides encountering large numbers of human players, you can also encounter players of other races, which will help you understand contemporary society's culture and social customs."

Ji Chen was no stranger to virtual games.

Before his transmigration, virtual games had already taken shape.

During the years he had been gone, virtual technology had clearly made leaps and bounds of progress.

Before transmigrating, he had once eagerly looked forward to experiencing ultimate virtual technology in his lifetime.

Only now, he no longer had the mindset of those days.

"Do you have any virtual game recommendations?" Ji Chen asked again.

"I suggest participating in the qualification application event Monster World is currently running. It is the finest virtual game of this era, with a perfect realism experience. I've compiled player feedback — its only drawback is that obtaining qualifications is difficult."

"Open Monster World's official site for me."

The display on the desk automatically switched to the Monster World official website.

Ji Chen clicked the qualification application tab, and the page jumped to a countdown page.

1 hour and 38 minutes until qualifications are distributed.

This made him shake his head involuntarily.

Times change, but game companies' hunger-marketing tactics still haven't changed much.

The "limited qualifications" gimmick that game companies were playing two hundred years ago is still being used in this era — at its core, it's just toying with players' anticipation.

As he waited, time slipped by.

When the countdown hit zero, he steered the cursor and clicked "Apply."

Immediately a prompt popped up on the page:

【Your identity-bound account has applied for qualification acquisition. Please wait patiently: qualification lottery will begin in 1 hour, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds.】

Seeing the prompt, Ji Chen's heart didn't stir in the slightest.

Over the next two hours, he began browsing the game's materials on the official site.

Including the monster compendium, combat system introduction… Starting from casual browsing, Ji Chen grew more and more astonished. He discovered this game's design was extremely complex — it had essentially built the game world with the detail of the real world.

This gave him a bit of anticipation for this virtual game.

Cough, cough….

While browsing, Ji Chen suddenly coughed violently.

This wasn't the first time.

Having grown accustomed to the air imbued with spiritual energy in the other world, the harsh environment of his home world always made him feel unable to adapt.

Before returning to his home world, the Dragonfolk had examined his body and told him he probably had about 30 years left to live.

Thinking about it now, his remaining lifespan in his home world was likely to be heavily discounted.

But he no longer cared that much.

This scarred, broken body that had survived and held on until now was already a miracle in itself.

As his thoughts drifted, a prompt box suddenly popped up on the webpage:

【Congratulations, you have obtained Monster World game qualification. Please complete activation within 24 hours.】

(End of this chapter)