Chapter 331: Intelligence Investigation, Regional Situation

Li Zheng withdrew his gaze from the fierce exchange of fire on the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range and quickly retreated.

Passing through the black mist-wreathed clouds, Qi Sheng's vision returned to the map interface, focusing on the Phantom Spirit Wasteland region.

The scene presented in his mind was utterly different from the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range.

The visual style of the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range resembled a war furnace, where the intense blood qi surging with battle will burned the entire sky crimson.

Top-tier players gathered into an army to launch a fearless charge.

Damage-tanking players stood at the very front, using their flesh to withstand the mountain-sized bodies of disaster-type beasts, the blood qi flames exploding from the collision resembling sparks flying during forging.

The elemental power released by magic-type players wove into a torrent in the clouds, colliding with the destructive power unleashed by death-disaster-type troops in the same sky.

The blade light of assassin-style players wove a death spiderweb in the shadows, while the buffing auras and life links of support classes pulsed through the battlefield like tides; every flicker could reignite a dying front line with blood, and they could always, at the critical moment, raise a golden barrier to withstand the assault raining down like raindrops.

Tacit cooperation, unity of purpose... under the command of the God King, the joint army moved like a precise war machine, every gear meshing and operating with perfect fit.

This was the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range, a hall-level battlefield in the eyes of the players.

Every player was a battle-hardened absolute elite, forged in the cruel special training of the Land Will bullies.

Every brilliant moment on the battlefield was the crystallized combat experience of top-tier players, piled up from countless deaths.

In contrast, the Phantom Spirit Wasteland region, where the A-Le Training Camp had reopened and operated non-stop for 24 hours, was staging an absurd play that never ended.

This battlefield was like a primary school gang fight scene.

There were no precisely coordinated war armies, only a group of rookie players running around like headless flies.

Near the spatial exit, it was even more lively, resembling a vegetable market.

Some players were forming teams and calling for people here, while others blamed each other, then pulled each other's hair and fought.

As for battlefield command, it simply did not exist.

Although occasionally a few volunteers would try to organize the players of the A-Le Training Camp to establish a joint combat group.

But shouting until their throats broke, few players would pay any attention.

Newbie players did as they pleased; those who wanted to charge charged, those who wanted to slack off slacked off, only liking the purest violence of brawling.

The so-called tactical cooperation was at most small-scale coordination between acquaintances, where one tanked the monster and the other dealt damage.

The most distinct feature of the A-Le Training Camp was that players came and went like flowing water.

Teammates who stood shoulder to shoulder today, with arms around each other vowing to struggle together, might graduate tomorrow and move to a higher-level map.

Even if a war group was formed, one would find that the player names on the war group roster refreshed every day.

A powerful senior-level player might be contacted in the morning to join, but by evening, they might have been forced to graduate.

Those players attempting to form fixed groups would often find within a week: the group leader was gone, the main damage dealers had vanished, the supports had been issued graduation certificates...

What made commanders most collapse was that the command rhythm was constantly changing.

Habitually calling out a player's name only to find no one answered, because they had already graduated and left.

New recruits joining the team waited for the commander to issue orders, only to find the commander had forgotten they existed.

Tacit tactical cooperation required time to hone.

Teams that updated every day could never train up tacit teammates.

This was also the reason combat in the A-Le Training Camp was so chaotic and disordered; all players believed this was how one played in a training camp.

War groups and tactics were all things that only added trouble.

How could one hone any tacit understanding by cooperating with new teammates every day?

Choosing a team was an issue only for graduating players; here, there was only the most violent combat aesthetic—pulling hair, kicking groins, gouging eyes... these were the core combat skills.

Here, it was impossible to see legendary war groups like those in the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range that lasted for years.

All teams were makeshift ragtag groups.

A new war group that looked majestic today might collapse tomorrow because its core members graduated.

It was impossible to maintain the same roster for two years and continuously expand the scale, as in the Emperor's Tomb Mountain Range.

Group leaders graduating, commanders graduating, core combatants leaving the group... it happened every day.

Secondly, another reason affecting the construction of war groups was: the chaos of the system.

The commander might be a newbie who had only learned to use the Eagle-Head Demon's traits yesterday; the main melee damage dealer might have been a support yesterday, not knowing melee skills... in the newbie stage, many players had not yet determined their future direction for Star Veins.

They could change their minds at any time.

This was also the inevitable phenomenon that occurred every time Qi Sheng recruited newbies.

Many newbie players were tourists before obtaining qualifications, learning about the Monster World through forums and live streams.

This led them to judge their Star Vein choices based only on feelings.

Many choices, after actual experience, would be found completely unsuitable for themselves.

The most representative example was the fluctuation in the number of damage-tanking players.

The damage-tanking style seen on forums and live streams was domineering and fierce, standing like a mountain at the very front line of the battlefield, withstand ing the war torrents appearing in different campaigns, with blood qi exploding from physical collisions as brilliant as fireworks.

The figures of those top-tier damage-tanking players in the videos, covered in blood but not retreating an inch, paired with grand battlefield scenes, made anyone watching feel their blood boil, wishing to immediately change class to become the iron-wall war god in the video.

Therefore, during every newbie recruitment phase, a large number of players would make a choice of faith and become damage-tanking style.

But reality was cruel.

Newbies enthusiastically chose the damage-tanking path, only to find themselves grimacing in pain from the pain feedback brought by actual combat.

The scenes of sweeping through the battlefield that looked explosively cool in videos, when experienced personally, left only feedback of pain so severe one wanted to roll around, ultimately turning into darkness before the eyes and a resurrection countdown.

Not to mention that professional damage-tanking players, while enduring pain, also had to constantly watch their positioning, team cooperation, and teammate protection, all requiring high-intensity training.

This was also the core reason why the status of damage-tanking style players in major guilds, war groups, and fixed teams was far higher than that of other Wanfaliu Sect styles.

Thus, scenes like this were often seen in the training camp: a newbie player who had solemnly vowed to uphold the damage-tanking faith yesterday would, the next day, shrink to the back row like a frost-bitten eggplant, secretly changing their Star Vein to ranged damage.

The forums were filled with complaints posted by newbie players: "Is damage-tanking style playable by humans?", "Recommend a painless damage-tanking method", "If I play damage-tanking again, I'm a dog" and similar posts.

When the iron fist of reality struck the body, even a choice of faith would collapse.

The price of refusing to admit defeat is the ever-increasing bruises on the body; once the pain breaks the tolerance threshold, most players choose to switch playstyles.

This includes Assassin-style players as well.

In the videos, Assassin-style players are dashing and agile, their figures darting through the battlefield like ghosts; a flash of cold light from a dagger brings forth a burst of blood, killing one person in ten paces and leaving no trace for a thousand li.

In the highlight reels of spectacular kills, top-tier Assassin-style players stroll leisurely amidst the torrent of war, dancing on the blade's edge in scenes so dazzling they make one's scalp tingle.

When eager newbies enthusiastically chose the Assassin path, harsh reality dealt them a crushing blow.

Movement techniques, precision, lethality, timing... these skills all require players to possess extremely high talent for technique.

The low margin for error of glass cannons turned many Assassin-style players into clowns on the battlefield.

At the respawn point of the Phantom Spirit Wasteland where the A-Le Training Camp is located, one can always see dejected Assassin-style newbies, their confidence shattered by reality.

The "kill one person in ten paces" promised in the videos was stubbornly turned by them into "die ten times in ten paces."

The graceful and agile movement techniques, in their own hands, became a wild boar charging headlong, feeding the Bliss Army warriors face-first.

Personnel turnover and chaotic systems—these two major problems made the players in the A-Le Training Camp completely abandon the idea of coordinated combat.

Rather than wasting energy forming and coordinating combat squads, it was better to charge blindly and grind Shou Shou Jili.

Another major feature of the A-Le Training Camp is the newest project to debut: Reflection Time.

That is, the ad time in the players' eyes.

Every so often, the elderly gatekeeper would forcibly require all A-Le trainees to look up at the sky, forcibly triggering a 73-second Reflection ad broadcast.

Unskippable, uncloseable... anyone who disobeyed would be sent straight to the small dark room by the elderly gatekeeper's iron fist.

The revenue generated by the ads significantly reduced the daily resource expenditure of the A-Le Training Camp.

Bringing ad revenue to A-Le were not only the newbie players within the A-Le Training Camp, but also billions of hidden contributors.

They were the visitors in the A-Le Training Camp livestream room.

Although they had not obtained qualification, their viewing of the Reflection ads could still generate revenue for the Lord of Bliss.

This is the power of the rules: as long as the logic is fulfilled, resources can be generated regardless of space.

Secondly, there were those players entering the death respawn cooldown; they would also appear in the A-Le Training Camp livestream room to watch the drama.

Their viewing of the ads could also bring resource revenue to A-Le.

Qi Sheng could cut off this portion of resource production at any time.

After all, the deceased players were in Emperor's Tomb Village; with a single thought, he could seal off this channel.

But Qi Sheng did not do so.

In his eyes, the A-Le Training Camp was a place to cultivate newbie players for rapid growth; giving some sweeteners to let the A-Le Training Camp expand its scale was a good thing.

In the future, a large number of players would still need to be recruited to enter; the A-Le Training Camp remained the best newbie training base.