---Third POV---
"No need to check."
Thor looked up, his expression no longer carefree like before.
"The intel is real."
Coming from a person who once hid under an NPC's bed to spy on someone cheating, it was someone people trusted to a certain extent.
CowardlySurvivor rubbed his nose.
"Beat us to it again. Your intelligence network is still top-notch!"
Thor picked up a blank piece of papyrus from the table and began to scribble furiously.
Then, imitating NeverShowOff's earlier move, he rolled the fragile paper into a tube and placed it in front of him.
"No need to get into the details. Our guild has a list of wealthy NPCs and their basic information."
CowardlySurvivor looked at the gray-yellow paper, barely two lines written.
"That's it?"
"It's just for show. The paper stands for a promise," Thor said leisurely. "I'll fill it out later."
At the same time, Child also set down his pen.
"Our guild mainly focuses on intel related to the church."
He paused, then continued, "There's a secret cellar beneath the church, protected by layers of magic circles."
CowardlySurvivor's eyes widened. "Didn't you guys say there was no hidden room in the church?"
"If we told the truth, wouldn't you have scaled the electric grid even harder?" Child retorted, arms crossed.
Everyone hissed and sucked in their breath.
NeverShowOff sighed and pushed the three paper tubes toward the center.
"Lucky Stars Team controls the information channels at the Angel's Kiss…"
They had the numbers, so they went harder. Thanks to a certain unnamed player who used their looks as leverage, they managed to plant three bartenders in Angel's Kiss.
This allowed them to manipulate the intel gathered from drunk mercenaries.
In other words, all the intel leaking from Angel's Kiss had been processed by them and was distorted to varying degrees.
Child gasped.
"Damn, you guys are savage!"
"What? So that scandal the other day about the Cadette family fighting over a headband, was that fake?"
Thor stood up too.
NeverShowOff twitched at the corner of his mouth. "No, that one's real."
They only altered mission-critical information, not NPC gossip and family drama. Before anyone realized it, only one person hadn't spoken yet.
CowardlySurvivor looked at the paper tubes on the table, then at the replies in his private messages. He couldn't help but let out a long sigh. He stood up and pushed his paper tube forward.
"Fire Element T0 provides partial intel on the barracks and central warehouse."
"..."
Seven hands stacked over one another at the center of the table and then lifted up together.
"Pleasure doing business!"
"That line's way too cliché!"
"Well, it has to be."
One by one, the seven of them left the room, greeted David who was waiting outside, and walked off quickly.
Sharing intelligence came with a massive workload.
They had to hurry back to rest up, and coordinate log-in times with their other teammates.
NeverShowOff and Garble followed at the end.
Watching the silhouettes of the other players fade into the distance, Garble muttered, "It actually went that smoothly?"
The negotiation ended in under ten minutes, shorter than the time it took for everyone to arrive.
"Anyone who made it this far is clearly interested in cooperating."
NeverShowOff smiled.
"It's just a game. One word is enough, no need to overcomplicate it. Besides, this game doesn't even have a guild system. There's not much real conflict of interest to worry about."
It was not like they were dealing with actual political shifts. The real point of this meeting wasn't the negotiation, it was the sense of ceremony that let the players show off a bit.
As he spoke, he patted David, who stood nearby with an exasperated expression.
In his increasingly fluent Aeltia Common Tongue, he said, "Thanks, the venue vibe was great!"
"Appreciate the compliment," David replied with a strained smile. Even his golden hair seemed to droop.
"If you all could choose a different place for your next gathering, that'd be even better."
Back when he said he was willing to offer The Watchers his full support, that was more of a polite formality.
Who would've thought, this ragtag bunch of Watchers actually used his help to the fullest. If their actions ever got discovered, he'd be the first one to get screwed.
Unfortunately, NeverShowOff and Garble, already anticipating David's reaction, had walked off in advance. They slipped away through a gap in the city patrol's route with practiced ease, leaving the Ship-Carriage Guild behind.
The two strolled leisurely through an empty alley.
Garble looked at the intel sent via private chat.
"The church basically can't hide people. Two wealthy NPCs are frequently entering and exiting the military camp, very suspicious. And they just so happen to be on our list of suspects. I suggest we start investigating them tomorrow!"
NeverShowOff nodded. "You're more experienced with this kind of thing. But before that…"
The two of them climbed over a wall into someone's backyard, narrowly avoiding a patrolling guard around the corner.
Lowering his voice, he said, "We need to go to the city gate and get Hedgehog inside."
That guy had to go report in with a special item, then rushed right back. He'd already been stuck outside the city freezing his butt off all night.
---
A new day dawned.
"The item shop's been updated!"
"Quick, go check! Big update today! All premium stuff!"
Players rushed back and forth between the church and the player apartments, spreading the news.
Although the Ship-Carriage Guild's inventory had already been sorted yesterday, it wasn't until this morning that the goods were officially made available to players. The first player to notice the update stared at the dazzling list of items on the shop panel, almost thinking they were dreaming.
"Holy shit! The devs are alive!"
They'd been shouting for the store to be restocked for ages, but the devs kept focusing on realism. If players didn't go find supplies themselves, there really wouldn't be a single new item in the shop.
They read the reason for the shop update and clicked their tongue in amazement.
"Triggered by those top-tier players delivering that letter again, huh?"
A single letter delivery had brought a massive shipment of supplies to Honeyvale Town. That automatic mana-powered lathe or whatever? The tech players were still camping it like vultures.
With that in mind, this player's eyes blazed with determination.
"Screw shopping, I'm going to level up and do quests!"
Becoming one of the top-tier players truly gave you the power to influence the story, and shape the lives of new players. With that, he spun around and dashed off in a flurry of motion.
Right after, the first wave of players who'd heard the news started arriving. They crowded around the counter, connected to the shop panel, and burst out in a chorus of awe and excitement.
"Whoa!"
"What did I miss?!"
"Magic cauldron, must-have for becoming a potion master!"
"Hahaha, I'll be the first to unlock the Alchemist class for sure!"
"Class-change skill books, rare weapon blueprints, forbidden magic tomes! Power level just got a massive boost!"
The players were dazzled by what they saw.
With all sorts of cheat codes and basic magical tools now available,
there were suddenly many more spells and professions they could learn.
After a brief moment of awe, everyone quickly rushed to find the NPCs offering services. But most resources came with restrictions: level, class, contribution points, and even regional reputation.
These newbie players, with ambition higher than the sky, couldn't even meet the basic requirements, let alone gather enough of everything else. Many of them didn't even have enough magicoins to buy anything. After browsing, they could only leave dejectedly to go level up first.
There were also many lifestyle players drooling over the limited daily goods.
"Salt, sugar, vinegar, scallions, ginger, garlic, and black pepper! We can finally stop eating spicy food that tastes like herbal medicine! And there's wine!"
ProGamer_Daddy squeezed through the crowd with difficulty and finally reached the area where he could access the shop interface. He opened the menu and scrolled straight to the industrial zone.
"Magical power generator?!" His eyes lit up. "There's something this good?"
Sure enough, ditching his factory to come here had paid off. This thing was way better than manually building a pure-tech generator using diagrams from the internet. Though he had blueprints for spells and magic circles that could generate power, he never knew how to combine magic with tech.
This magical engine, this was the breakthrough he needed.
He looked at the price.
"Five thousand? That cheap?!"
With income from his share of the weapons factory, aside from the big spenders, no one was richer than him! But then the system showed: not enough contribution points.
"Still need 500 contribution points?"
He frowned at his contribution score, it wasn't even halfway there. Contribution points weren't exactly hard to earn, but not easy either. Discovering new food like potatoes not found in town, defeating goblins threatening Honeyvale Town, these could all earn you points.
Players like him who went to Nary Town, if they returned with the sirens or Edgar, would get a bunch of points too. Too bad he didn't go.
"Hmm... I'll need to find another way."
ProGamer_Daddy took one last look at the product image in the shop, closed the interface, and squeezed his way out. Then, he rushed back to the weapons factory, pushed aside the cluttered blueprints on the workbench, laid down a fresh sheet of paper, and started drawing with a ruler.
"First this part, then that. I'll look up more data after logging out to complete this section... Done!"
He confidently tossed the pen aside and grinned.
"500 contribution points? Piece of cake!"
Besides major achievements, actively contributing to Honeyvale Town's development also earned points. And as a self-proclaimed inventor, helping the town grow was a walk in the park.
It was just that he had previously been more interested in making gunpowder weapons.
---
Back at the "Game Mall" near the quest point, new players continued pouring in, browsing the items.
MemeKnight dragged his girlfriend and squeezed inside too.
Watching the rapidly shrinking stock numbers, he clicked his tongue in amazement.
"Damn, they have gone crazy!"
He ran a snack bar, well, tavern, but even he didn't buy that many spices.
These players? Buying like mad!
Judging by how fast the spice stock was dropping, almost everyone was buying the max amount allowed.
Without hesitation, he also swept up all the spices he could. Then he turned to his girlfriend and said, "Hurry up! We need to get in line for the condiments!"
But when he turned around, he saw GameLord420's eyes sparkling, staring motionlessly at a certain spot in the air. The next second, she shared her panel. She pointed to a certain item in the tools section, eyes full of anticipation as she looked at him.
"What do you think about buying this?"
MemeKnight took a closer look. It was called a mineral detector, capable of detecting ore veins up to a thousand meters underground.
As a piece of magi-tech, it was expensive, but unusually, it had no purchase requirements other than a strict one-per-player limit.
He frowned. "We could…"
The price was no big deal for them, as small snack shop owners. But the main issue was, buying a mineral detector meant they were planning to go out mining.
"What about our tavern?"
They'd been searching for a replacement manager for ages and had made basically zero progress. There weren't many players interested in running a store in-game, and those who were mostly preferred to open their own shop. The rest all wanted full profit share, and even wanted to redesign the half-finished tavern he built.
Not a single one of them was reliable.
"If we really can't find anyone, let's just close the shop for now. After all, we're here to run a tavern, not a snack bar."
GameLord420 shot him a resentful look.
"I'm sick of the taste of potatoes."
MemeKnight looked frustrated.
Who wasn't?
"So… close the shop?" he asked again to confirm.
"Close it. Let's go explore the poetry and the distant lands!" GameLord420 declared firmly.
And just like that, the two unreliable shop owners abruptly shut down their tavern-turned-snack bar. They picked up their mineral detector and a bunch of spices, and headed straight into the depths of the forest.
It wasn't until that afternoon that they suddenly realized: They forgot to put up a notice or make a forum post about closing.
The customers who had been waiting all noon: "..."
Our ice cream, fries, and sausages!!!
---
Swish!
Viktor opened the freshly installed mailbox at the entrance of his manor.
A dozen blueprints fluttered out.
"This many again?"
He was surprised. He had only gone to check on the northern greenhouse farmland, not even two hours round-trip. And the players had already drawn up new blueprints?
If he remembered correctly, they only had hundreds of players, not tens of thousands…
"They're really enthusiastic, huh."
He counted the stack in his hands, clicking his tongue in amazement.
"Looks like I have a real talent for game design?"
The good news: Players in Chronicles of Aeltia were extremely engaged.
They held high hopes for co-building this "game world." And thanks to Viktor's selective recruitment process, they were now operating at full "hardcore player" mode.
Even if they were busy during the day, most of them logged in at night, sleeping with their helmets on. On average, they'd log in at least once every two days, and stay online for a whole day when they did. As a result, even features requiring real knowledge and technical skills were met with eager participation.
The bad news: His workload just went up. Again.
"Sigh… Guess I'm working overtime."
He resignedly picked up the stack of blueprints and opened them on his "wheelchair."
The black-sand construct carried him back inside the house.
"Let's hope there are a few more useful ones this time."
He took out a quill and began annotating the blueprints.
A fully automated machine tool was not a magic wish-granting device. On the contrary, it had extremely strict requirements, down to exact materials and dimensions for every component.
If players simply copied blueprints from the internet, it was impossible to produce functional parts. Those got tossed out immediately, he wouldn't even bother marking them up.
As for blueprints for planes, cannons, or even mechs…
---
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