Chapter Eighty-three: Preparations Before Departure

It had been ten days since returning to reality. Guo Lang silently counted: it had been a week since he’d made the appointment with Cang Mingyue, and now everyone was preparing for the coming events. After all, they all had families and obligations. For example, Ye Zhiqiu had said he needed to return to the Nanhua District to bid farewell to the elderly man who had taken them in. He refused to let Xiao Hei accompany him, leaving him with Fatty, the gang leader. If Ye Zhiqiu didn’t return, Xiao Hei was to stay away from the game and dutifully serve as Fatty’s enforcer.

Xie Lin’s family, the Xie clan, was also an old family in the capital, though far less powerful than the Gong family. But once his family learned he had come out of the game pod, Xie Tianhua’s status soared, and he naturally had to return to settle some affairs. Moreover, Commissioner Chen Bing of City C had gathered a few people for a celebration in honor of his second son’s return, so Xie Tianhua and Xie Lin had to go back and show their faces.

Jiang Liuying’s parents resided abroad; she said she needed to go to Northern Europe to carve a mark—something that would make future visits easier. As for Cang Mingyue... she was, in truth, an utter nerd with no family to speak of. Guo Lang had visited her place once: half the house was stacked with instant noodle cups, the other half with game disks. A pure homebody, and a tech geek to boot, she made her living by creating cheats for others.

Guo Lang himself was headed to a secret training base in the capital. A few days before, Mr. Liang had spoken with him to get a rough understanding of the situation, and, following Guo Lang’s requests and suggestions, had selected the first batch of experimenters. Now Guo Lang was to give them their first lesson.

The base was enormous, all the facilities made of advanced alloys, exuding a sci-fi atmosphere straight out of a television drama. As he walked in, nearly fifty soldiers in camouflage stood at attention, backs straight and spirits high.

“The officer is here! Salute the officer!” The leader, a man approaching thirty, bellowed as soon as he saw Guo Lang. The others followed suit, shouting, “Salute the officer!”

Such spirit... Guo Lang smiled slightly. Judging by the expressions of Old Li and Li Chao beside him, he could tell these soldiers were trying to test him. Guo Lang cleared his throat, swaggered forward, and waved his hand leisurely, “Hello, comrades. Thank you for your hard work!”

As he spoke, his eyes glimmered with a crystalline purple light, and he released his bio-magnetic field without restraint. Instantly, the faces of the assembled soldiers turned pale, some nearly losing their footing and collapsing. Guo Lang did not withdraw his aura. Most of the men looked ashen and weak at the knees, but they stubbornly held their ground.

Ahem. Even Old Li, startled beside him, had to wave his hand with Li Chao’s support. Though Guo Lang had deliberately controlled himself, they were still affected. Old Li forced a bitter smile, “That’s enough, son. This old man can’t take much more of your tricks.”

Guo Lang laughed and withdrew his aura. The men immediately felt the pressure lift, some barely stopping themselves from sinking to the ground. Yet their military discipline and pride made them grit their teeth and hold on. Those who had been scared down at the start flushed with embarrassment as they rose, eyes averted from their comrades.

Old Li nodded, signaling Guo Lang to begin. Guo Lang clapped his hands with a smile, “No need for introductions. I’m here today to give you a basic lesson in common knowledge. Maybe after today, I’ll never see any of you again, so there’s no need for names.”

The men below listened with rigid seriousness. Though they’d just been shaken, Guo Lang could still see the arrogance and pride in their eyes. In their minds, he was just a lucky boy; if they’d had his chance, they would have done better and become even stronger.

That attitude wouldn’t do. Guo Lang decided to knock them down a peg.

He clapped his hands. “To have made it here, you must have been carefully selected—the elite of the military, perhaps even the kings of soldiers in your districts, all very capable!” His face darkened. “However, let me warn you: none of this guarantees your return from the game. For all of you, the odds of making it back are less than one in a hundred—perhaps even less. If luck isn’t on your side, not a single one of you may return!”

Their faces fell, some openly showing their disdain.

Guo Lang grinned, “Many of you probably think, ‘If a pampered young man like you can come back, why wouldn’t we?’” He wagged his finger. “Unfortunately, this game is anything but fair. In the early stages, luck is a huge factor. This time, Alpha released fifty million game pods; over forty million people worldwide participated. Among them were mercenaries, retired champions, underground fighters, and even professional killers. According to intelligence, so far fewer than three hundred have returned! Of course, many are still trapped inside, but most...” His expression darkened, “...are dead.”

“Sir!” The lead soldier stepped forward and saluted.

“Speak,” Guo Lang replied with a smile.

“You mentioned luck. If it’s a game, shouldn’t it be absolutely fair?”

Guo Lang laughed, “Who taught you that notion? Maybe single-player games are fair, but have you ever seen a fair online game? Ever heard of pay-to-win players?”

“There’s... pay-to-win here too?”

“No...” Guo Lang shook his head. “If there were, the country would gladly bankroll you. But unfortunately, this game is pure chance—everything depends on luck.”

“So what are the real differences?”

Guo Lang was secretly impressed. The soldier’s questions were pointed and efficient; their quality was genuinely high.

“I’ll brief you on the basic scenarios you’ll encounter upon transfer, but the specifics you’ll have to experience yourselves. I can only give you an overview!” He walked to a blackboard and picked up an ink marker.

“First, each of you will land in a different world. So don’t count on teaming up. Of course, you might get lucky and end up in the same world if you draw the same race, but the chances are slim. Most of you will fight alone, and you may even encounter veteran players who arrived before you.”

The crowd’s faces hardened. They’d heard about the strength of those players. If they ran into them right away, things could get ugly; those veterans already had a head start, while they would need time to grow.

Guo Lang continued, “Now, about the worlds themselves. There are many types, but I’ll sort them into categories. The universe is divided into high, medium, and demonic-grade worlds. As beginners, you won’t end up in high-magic worlds, not even mid-magic ones—the best you’ll get is a lower mid-grade world. Even within that, there are many varieties. Let me list a few.”

He drew the first scenario on the board. “First, there’s the lower-mid world—cold weapons era, feudal empires. If you get one of these, congratulations; it’s the best start. Human physical quality is high, military units are strong, and because it’s cold weapons, development is less restricted. The feudal and backward mindset means there’s no internet, no rapid communication, so it’s ideal for expansion.”

He drew the second scenario. “The second is a low-grade world in the hot weapons era. If you draw this, things get tricky. Regardless of the political system, even with an empire, advanced technology and communication mean you’re easily exposed, and people are too smart to be fooled. Unless you land in a war-torn region, blending in will be hard, and building up your forces will take much longer. Still, it’s good for recruiting scientific talent and developing your tech tree.”

Next, he drew another world. “There’s also the primitive world. This has pros and cons: it’s easy to gather forces because the natives are backward and simple-minded, but don’t expect anyone to help you develop your tech tree.”

“The last type!” Guo Lang’s expression turned mischievous. “I call it the Prehistoric World. These worlds have no intelligent life—just primitive creatures, like dinosaurs. If you draw this, you can pretty much write yourself off!”

“You can’t recruit any military units. The minimum requirement in the Gods’ Faithful Contract is intelligent life—not cats, dogs, or other lesser creatures, and certainly not dinosaurs. If you build a base, you’ll trigger Gaia’s backlash, so you’ll waste time just subduing the local wildlife. And these wild creatures are usually massive—you might face a spider as big as a tank! It’s a huge waste of time and extremely dangerous; your survival chances are slim.”

The crowd swallowed, their expressions mixed. Damn, so it really did come down to luck?

“Now, let’s talk about races!” Guo Lang’s tone grew serious. “Each race has its own traits. None is inherently stronger or weaker, but there are big differences in survival rates. Some, like the Undead or the Void, have a much easier start. Others, like the Nature Elves or the Ice Clan, develop more slowly, but each has its advantages and drawbacks.”

“I warn you: don’t lightly choose Undead or Void. As invaders, you’ll do plenty of killing, but you must keep your conscience and your boundaries. You’re military men, fighting for the rise of your nation, risking your lives for your countrymen. If you pick these pure darkness races, you may lose yourselves. I don’t deny some people have iron wills, but so far, I haven’t seen a single one.”

The lead soldier asked curiously, “You keep saying those two races have smooth starts. What makes them so?”

Guo Lang gave him a long look, then replied sternly, “They excel at destruction. Other races have to build slowly, win local trust, master politics, and time their actions, but not these two. They just need to destroy. The Undead, with their advanced bio-tech, can unleash world-ending plagues. The Void can breed alien beasts or spread negative psychic energy to throw civilizations into chaos. For instance, in a world like ours, if they want to destroy everything, they could do it in just six months.”

A gasp went through the room. Even Old Li broke out in a cold sweat. For the first time, he was glad his world was a “breeding” plane, and that their side were the invaders, not the invaded.

Guo Lang saw the shift in their expressions and sneered, “Impressive, isn’t it? Billions of lives, millennia of civilization—all gone in half a year. But remember your purpose: you’re fighting for your nation’s future, so your loved ones don’t fall behind in a new era. If you can massacre billions of innocents without a second thought, can you really return and stay true to yourself? Will the power you gained still serve to protect all you once swore to defend?”

“Maybe my words sound naïve or childish, but remember this: if you pursue strength with no boundaries, you will lose yourself.”

The soldiers all snapped to attention and saluted solemnly. Most of these passionate young men agreed, though not all; some thought, if you’re going to invade, what’s the difference between doing it with restraint or without?

“So, sir, do you have any recommendations?”

Guo Lang was taken aback—had he become their strategy guide? Did they expect him to advertise his own race? He wondered if there might be a reward. Smiling, he said, “Depends on what you’re after. If you want personal power, I recommend the Nightborne. They’re a high-agility race, great early survival, strong individuals after class advancement, and adapt well to any environment. Their buildings, like the Nature Elves’, are made from living wood—very fast to construct if you find the right spot. Nightborne units are agile and nearly unbeatable in small-scale combat during the early phase. They’re an excellent choice.”

“Oh!” the crowd murmured, several visibly tempted. Guo Lang, seeing their interest, added, “Other solid choices are the Beastkin—great early stats, lots of warrior classes, perfect for military men, and powerful units. Their buildings are primitive, though.”

He then briefly introduced the other races: “Ice and Nature rely on spiritual growth at first; before getting a class or advanced bloodline, their survival is weaker, but their mage systems are robust. If you make it through the early stages, you’ll have the advantage later. Humans and Blood Elves have balanced stats and are very stable. The Chaos race has great early stats, but their bloodlines are too dominant, so the elimination rate is high, both internally and externally; survival is tough. If you’re confident, give it a try—but be cautious!”

He hesitated, then added, “Lastly, the Naga. This race is overall very strong; their start isn’t worse than Undead or Void. But after bloodline infusion, you’ll slowly turn into a lizard. Evolution varies—a few may even become sea serpents as massive as a mountain. So... it’s up to you.”

The crowd was stunned—sea serpents? Could they end up as frogs instead?

Ding! The system’s intelligent prompt chimed: “Believer Guo Lang, for spreading the glory of the Nightborne and attracting followers, you have received the gods’ favor. As this publicity may have a major impact, the Main God rewards you with 5,000 energy points and bestows an Honorary Medal!”

Damn, there really is a reward! Guo Lang was delighted.

Ding! The system continued: “Believer Guo Lang, for promoting the Beastkin, you have earned the favor of the Storm Lord—Beastkin Favor +60. Believer Guo Lang, for disparaging the Undead and Void, you have incurred the displeasure of the Lord of Death and the Lord of Destruction—Undead and Void faction hostility +60!”

Guo Lang froze. Though the Undead and Void were natural enemies of the Nightborne, such high hostility was dangerous. What if they put a bounty on him?

Ah... better to keep a lower profile, he thought, regretting his recklessness. The system chimed again: “Ding. The Lord of the Sea, offended by your disdainful attitude toward the two-lizard race and for encouraging others’ bias against the Naga, increases hostility by 100!”

Guo Lang: “................”