Chapter Thirteen: I'm Going for a Big Score

The “wild books” that Genghis Spring mentioned were actually jargon, referring to skill manuals cultivated by those outside the sects—in other words, martial arts treatises accessible to freelance players wandering the world. In Dynasty, members of martial arts sects could generally only practice their own sect’s skills; likewise, sect-specific skills were off-limits to outsiders or those unaffiliated. On the surface, this seemed to narrow the paths to progress, but in truth, sect martial arts followed a scientifically-designed progression mapped out by the game’s intelligent system.

Take, for example, the Shaolin external boxing arts: beginning with basic routines, progressing through Little Hong Fist, Big Hong Fist, Old Hong Fist, Through-the-Arm Fist, Plum Blossom Fist, Taizu Long Boxing, Black Tiger Fist, and Luohan Fist—step by step, ascending through these layers until one mastered the seventy-two ultimate skills like the Secret Hand of Bodhisattva and the Thirty-Three Divine Fist, renowned techniques in the martial world. This formed an effective and coherent skill tree.

It was simple: once you mastered the Secret Hand of Bodhisattva by following these stages, even the simplest move from Little Hong Fist would possess terrifying destructive power. If you unleashed an ultimate skill, few in the martial world would be able to withstand you.

However, if during your cultivation—say, when you reached the stage of Old Hong Fist—you suddenly decided to practice Iron Sand Palm, you’d ruin your progress. Though Iron Sand Palm was powerful, it was utterly incompatible with the boxing skills you’d previously trained; in effect, you’d be constructing a new skill tree from scratch, albeit starting from a relatively higher base.

This was the advantage of the sects: a complete scientific system, as if the intelligent system bestowed upon you the most perfect gaming experience.

On the other hand, freelance players, unwilling to be bound by the strict rules of the major sects, sought to forge their own path to martial mastery—at a steep price. Three years after Dynasty’s launch, the era of wild exploration was over, and there were plenty of freelance players who had reached their fourth or fifth job change. Many had amassed countless martial skills: Black Dragon Claw, Old Demon Blade, Chaotic Wind Sword, Golden Flying Dart Technique, and so on. The names sounded impressive, but their actual combat effectiveness was poor. Their knowledge was broad but shallow, refined but not pure; they wasted their high levels and energy, becoming useless—a mere sect junior with two or three job changes could easily defeat them.

The concept of a “skill tree” was first proposed a year ago by a technical celebrity on the player forums named Jun If Seen, evidently a hard-won insight earned through experience in the game. Zhang He greatly admired this person’s technical posts; his own outlook and judgments were strongly influenced by them.

Thinking of this, Zhang He hesitated—should he continue playing this game?

After some thought, he decided to keep going. His interest wasn’t high, but living expenses and rent weighed on him like two mountains, leaving him no room to breathe.

To survive, one had to have some skills. Besides scraping together some cash through side jobs in Dynasty, Zhang He truly couldn’t think of any other talent that might increase his monthly income of eight hundred yuan.

Given the current situation, lingering in Rainflower Village long-term was pointless. If he wanted to develop and earn big money, he had to open up, look beyond his immediate surroundings, and leave the depths of the mountains.

So Zhang He returned to East Street, browsing the various stalls. The vendors were already familiar with him, and Zhang He was shrewd in business; with a mix of persuasion and trickery, he spent three taels of silver to cover his bare equipment slots. Of course, all the gear was basic:

Withered Vine Ring (White), requirement: level 15, Strength +3;
Winterwood Necklace (White), requirement: level 15, Courage +1;
Cast Iron Belt (White), requirement: level 15, Constitution +10;
Vine Silk Armor (White), requirement: level 15, Defense +5;

Cloth Gloves (White), requirement: level 15, Strength +3;
Canvas Bracers (White), requirement: level 15, Strength +2;
White Iron Shoulder Guards (White), requirement: level 15, Defense +3.

From head to toe, Zhang He’s equipment was adorably “white”—except for a few previous pieces of rare gear, he was, in essence, a complete “noob.” But meals are eaten bite by bite, roads are walked step by step; if you rush, you risk hurting yourself, and if you hurt yourself badly enough, you might just lose your wits.

For weapons, Zhang He spent another tael, negotiating with an old acquaintance to buy an extraordinary-grade item:

Iron Sword (Extraordinary), requirement: level 20, Attack 25 +5, bonus: Strength +3.

“Iron Sword it is, I’ll make do for now,” Zhang He said helplessly, then turned and called out, “Duck Neck, let’s go—I’ll treat you to a drink.”

“What?” Duck Neck’s eyes were wide as an ox, doubting his ears. “Are you serious? Beef noodles or a proper restaurant?”

Zhang He smiled mildly, “Of course, a proper restaurant.”

“Right away, I’ll pack up now!” Duck Neck moved faster than lightning.

The little eatery in Rainflower Village was filled with the aroma of dishes fried in lard, the pungency of cheap liquor, and a peculiar mixture of chili, scallion, and garlic that defied description.

Zhang He liked this scent; only when he smelled it did he feel truly present. This sense of reality surpassed even the meticulously decorated, stylish Western restaurants in Dreamstar City.

A novice village is, after all, a novice village—no large restaurants yet, but the small eatery had its own folk charm. Watching Duck Neck devouring a plate of sliced pork, Zhang He’s lips curled into a faint smile.

He wasn’t in good spirits, nor was he treating someone for no reason; he had his own purpose.

With so many players passing through Rainflower Village each day, the best way to gather information wasn’t to ask the constables, but to consult the street vendors, who interacted with the most players daily. Nothing was more reliable than the news they heard.

Duck Neck, content, finished his plate and took a hearty swig of old rice wine, sighing, “You’re a true friend. For the past two weeks, I’ve only eaten cold steamed buns costing a single coin. Haven’t sold much lately; yesterday I bought three buns and still can’t bear to eat them—I want to savor them slowly.”

Such words were pitiful and bittersweet, but who could understand the hardships of novices?

“Brother, I’m planning to leave here. Do you have any good leads for me?” Zhang He asked calmly.

As a merchant, Duck Neck had his shrewd side; he instantly realized this meal wasn’t just for camaraderie—it was meant to draw information from him. He had a good impression of Zhang He, but knowing Zhang He’s current situation, even reaching the nearest town, Return Horse Town, would be a miracle, let alone leaving the mountains.

“Brother, are you planning a big job, or just looking to make it out?” Duck Neck’s question was pure nonsense; as if Zhang He would let him drop such hints and not follow up.

“If I pull off a big job, you’ll get your share, brother. Don’t you trust my credit?” Zhang He didn’t forget to paint a rosy picture.

“Alright!” Duck Neck’s face flushed from drink, glancing around before whispering, “Did you hear about the shocking case in the northern Grand Name Prefecture recently?”

Of course Zhang He hadn’t—someone who’d been lurking in the novice village for years couldn’t possibly be up-to-date with the martial world’s happenings.

Duck Neck explained, “I heard a batch of official silver from the capital was robbed by a group of master criminals.”

Just that brief sentence made Zhang He’s heart leap—a concept so astonishing, words could hardly capture its impact.

In Dynasty, silver counted toward carrying weight, and even if converted to gold, it was the same. Thousands or tens of thousands of taels of gold gathered together couldn’t be carried by either players or NPCs, so it had to be transported en masse: either by the army, or by escort agencies. It could also be exchanged for silver notes, but no bank in the Central Plains currently supported ultra-large denominations.

In other words, this batch of official silver was likely worth hundreds of thousands, possibly a million taels—at the very least, tens of thousands.

If the official silver originated from the capital, it was probably issued by the imperial court, meaning it came straight from the emperor.

The emperor was the highest-level NPC controlled by artificial intelligence in the Central Plains; in some sense, he was the intelligent system’s avatar. That this group of master criminals dared to target royal property was audacious beyond measure—and the most crucial point was that they succeeded, which spoke volumes about their power as players.

In Dynasty, robbing escorts or treasures was considered a quest for evil points; it wasn’t enough to snatch gold and jewels—you had to deliver them to the designated quest location to succeed. Sect-affiliated players had to return them to their headquarters. After completing the quest, the intelligent system awarded rewards based on the difficulty.

Zhang He mused, “I imagine the amount of official silver was substantial—even if those master criminals were highly skilled, it’s unrealistic to think they could swallow it all.”

“Exactly. The emperor is furious—no one will escape punishment. I heard he’s dispatched multiple forces to hunt them down. Checkpoints in every province are inspecting strictly. The imperial detectives sent out twenty elite agents, five imperial divine detectives, and the Four Great Detectives have left the capital. The court will not rest until the silver is recovered,” Duck Neck replied.

Zhang He secretly found it amusing; “will not rest” was just rhetoric, but it did highlight the immense difficulty of this major quest for official agencies like Six Doors.

“Brother, you’re not thinking I’ll help the authorities recover the silver, are you?” Zhang He feigned surprise. “You expect a level 25 player who hasn’t even changed jobs to take down master criminals of that caliber? If I had those skills, I’d take care of world peace—no alien monsters would ever invade Earth.”

Click, recommend, collect, reward—every kind of request, still requesting, always requesting!