New patches added new things. Most players loved the fantasy immersion, but the prices for the newest legendary bundles had skyrocketed to levels only whales could afford.
The heart clone queued into a ranked match in a new map(sprit continent) with Sumit and a few other regular squad mates. Between match, Sumit's voice crackled over voice chat:
"Bro, this new Heavenly Emperor bundle costs 5000 diamonds? Who even has that kind of money every month? I'm a big youtuber but, man… I can barely afford the Elite Pass."
Similar complaints echoed from others in the squad.
The heart clone landed in city ruin(a part of map), looted quietly, then paused. He remembered the previous timeline: unchecked greed had eventually driven millions of casual players away, shrinking the community until only heavy spenders remained. He didn't want that for his friends.
After wiping the squads and securing yet another easy Booyah (his mechanics were simply unfair), he exited the game.
Within an hour, he recorded and edited a calm, well-reasoned video titled:
"To Garena: We Love the Cultivation Updates, But Please Don't Forget the Ordinary Players."
In it, he praised the creative direction and the fun new features with text, showed clips of himself dominating with free-to-play loadouts, and respectfully pointed out how rising prices were pricing out the majority—the students, young workers, and casual fans who formed the heart of the community. He ended with a simple request: balance profit with accessibility.
Uploaded to his channel (already sitting at millions of subscribers), the video spread like wildfire across Free Fire Reddit, Facebook groups, Instagram, and YouTube. Ordinary players flooded the comments with support. Hashtags like #FairFire and #ListenToPlayers trended in several countries.
Garena's community managers noticed within hours. By the next morning, internal meetings were held. Data showed that this particular creator single-handedly drove a significant portion of new downloads and retention. Losing his goodwill—and the potential exodus of the vocal majority—would be catastrophic.
Two days later, Garena announced a surprise adjustment: prices on several premium bundles were reduced by 30–40%, more rewards were added to the free track of the Elite Pass, and a new "Mortal Path" event series offered powerful cultivation-themed items through gameplay alone.
The community rejoiced. Sumit and the squad spammed the heart clone with grateful voice messages.
Back in the fortress, the heart clone closed the notification, a faint smile on his face.
"That's good. They're smart enough to listen."
He set the phone aside and stood, stretching lightly.
"Now… time for something more important."
His gaze turned inward. The family's foundational weapon arts were solid, but still mortal-level. To prepare them for true cultivation—and for the storms he knew were coming—he needed to create advanced weapon arts that could bridge the mortal and immortal realms.
In xianxia novels, protagonists gained Sword Intent, Spear Heart, Blade Will, Fist Domain… concepts born from perfect comprehension of their weapon. Though fictional, the underlying principle was sound: deep understanding led to qualitative leaps.
The heart clone had perfect memory and limitless analytical ability. He could dissect every weapon form, every trajectory, every intent behind historical and fictional styles alike.
He walked to the empty training hall, summoned a simple iron sword with a thought, and assumed a basic stance.
"First, the sword."
For hours he moved—slow, then fast, then impossibly still—feeling the weight, balance, edge alignment, the whisper of air parting. He recalled thousands of novel descriptions: Sword Intent that cleaved mountains, Sword Heart that resonated with heaven and earth.
He did not need energy yet. Understanding came first.
By dawn, faint ripples appeared in the air around his blade—not energy, but pure intent beginning to take shape.
February 28, 2020 – Ankit and Sanya's shared birthday.
Morning training had ended early.
In the garden greenhouse, Sanya bounced on her toes, eyes bright with anticipation. Ever since Ankit's return and the gradual unveiling of his impossible abilities, her birthdays had become something out of dreams. In 2017 and above, she hadn't got something magical.
"Brother, gift?" she asked directly, hands clasped behind her back, trying (and failing) to look casual.
Ankit chuckled. He had already given her a footwork technique previous year. Material things felt meaningless now. This time, he wanted something she would never forget.
He raised a hand, and the air in front of them shimmered like heat haze. A perfect circular portal rippled into existence—deep indigo edges swirling with silver light.
"Sanya, follow me. Your gift is on the other side. Mom, Dad—you're coming too."
Kamal and Neelam exchanged curious glances but stepped forward without hesitation. The clones scattered back to their duties; they already knew the destination.