Chương 10: Logging Off for the Night

The candlelight flickered inside the room, casting dancing shadows that made the carefully arranged bed look perfectly undisturbed. Yang Fan held his breath and moved like a cat, his steps featherlight as he crept to the wooden door. He raised his fingers, gently pulled open a narrow crack, and quickly scanned the scene outside through the gap. The courtyard beyond was brightly lit, and the rows of tiled houses rang with lively noise and drifting smoke.

The Black Snake bandits remained completely oblivious, sitting in small groups around their tables, clinking cups and shouting over drinking games. The air was thick with the smell of meat and wine, and none of them had the slightest clue that their lord had just died in silence. Confirming that no one was watching his room, Yang Fan steadied his nerves. He pushed the door open softly, crouched low, and slipped out through the shadow of the eaves, pulling the door shut behind him in one clean motion.

Once outside, he kept his pace measured and his expression neutral, blending in as just another bandit going about his business. But beneath the calm surface, he had already activated his Grass Running technique. A faint current of wind wrapped around his legs, and his movement speed surged. His steps quickened, and he weaved through the narrow alleys between the rows of houses. The night wind passed through the lanes, making the copper bells under the eaves chime softly.

Inside the buildings, the bandits were deep in their revelry, their gazes lazy and unconcerned. No one paid any attention to the unfamiliar face passing by; they had already accepted him as one of their own. No one questioned him. No one blocked his path. With no further restraint, Yang Fan broke into a run, his form flashing through the shadows as he crossed the wide training ground and slipped past the layered checkpoints. It was in that moment that he fully appreciated the value of Grass Running.

For escaping and maneuvering, it was practically a divine skill. Moving like the wind, he passed through the stronghold's mountain defenses one after another and finally stepped beyond its reach. Standing on the mountainside of Spirit Spring Mountain, the night wind blew against his face, carrying away the tension that had gripped him. Yang Fan let out a long breath, his body relaxing slightly.

The hardest part of this infiltration mission had never been gathering information; it was getting inside the stronghold in the first place. Once he was in, escaping had been surprisingly easy. Still, he dared not linger on the mountainside. It was only a matter of time before the stronghold lord's body was discovered. When that happened, the hundreds of bandits would fan out across the mountain in a frenzy.

If he was caught, death would be the least of his worries; losing his bronze equipment would be the real tragedy. Yang Fan turned without hesitation and hurried down the mountain, heading straight for the teleportation array at its base. He activated it immediately, returning to the bustling safety of Baishi County. Stepping onto the familiar streets of the county, his frayed nerves finally eased. He estimated the real-world time and realized it was already late at night.

After a full day of infiltration, close calls, and bizarre twists, his mind and body were exhausted. Yang Fan decided to log off for now, rest, and process everything that had happened before diving back in tomorrow. He removed his game helmet, and the quiet of his small rented room surrounded him. He walked to the kitchen, boiled some water, and made himself a bowl of noodles, splurging by cracking two golden eggs into it.

The steaming meal warmed him from the inside out, a small reward for a day of dangerous adventures. He had only reached level 6, but his gains were far greater. He now possessed the complete pair of bronze Abyssal Spring Armguards, a set so powerful and cursed that even a hidden boss like the stronghold lord had died the moment he wore them. They were clearly no ordinary Bronze items. There was a deeper secret buried within them, one he would investigate thoroughly tomorrow.

With a full stomach and a relaxed body, Yang Fan opened his phone and checked the shill group chat. Messages were flying fast, the discussion more heated than ever. He scrolled through quickly. Most of his groupmates had already pushed their levels to 8, and some of the most dedicated grinders had even broken through to level 10. In the early stages of Mystic Wasteland Dao Realm, leveling was straightforward. Up to level 10, the experience requirements were low and the level penalties minimal.

Each level required only ten monsters of the corresponding level. For example, going from level 6 to 7 required 60 experience points, and each level 6 monster gave 6 points. Ten kills, one level. Normal grinding was fast and efficient. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. The only reason Yang Fan had fallen behind was that he had been stuck on a bizarre infiltration quest that left him no time to grind. But level 10 was the real turning point.

Going from level 10 to 11 required a massive jump in experience, from 100 points to a staggering 1000. Yet level 10 monsters still only gave 10 points each, meaning a player needed to kill a hundred of them to fill the bar. Worse, experience alone was not enough. To break through to level 11, a player had to learn a corresponding cultivation technique. That was the true gateway to the path of cultivation. In the group, Sima Duwei took the opportunity to explain the game's core worldbuilding.

The Xuanyuan Empire governed four orthodox temples, each corresponding to a major class, and each was officially backed by the empire. These temples had branches in every prefecture across the nine provinces. The Azure Dragon Temple, based in Fengyang City in the Eastern Province, specialized in support and healing, the healer class. The White Tiger Temple, based in Dunhuang City in the Western Province, specialized in stealth and assassination, the assassin class.

The Vermilion Bird Temple, based in Cangwu City in the Southern Province, specialized in area magic, the mage class. The Black Tortoise Temple, based in Shuofang City in the Northern Province, specialized in defense and tanking, the tank class. Every prefecture across the nine provinces had branch temples of all four schools. At level 10, players could visit the nearest branch and accept an assessment quest. Upon completion, they would be inducted into a temple and officially choose their class.

Currently, no player in the game had reached level 11. Everyone was stuck at the threshold, waiting to figure out the cultivation mechanics and assessment requirements. In addition, level 10 players could apply to establish a guild at the local government office. After completing a guild quest and paying a required fee, they would receive official territory and be able to found their own player guild. Sima Duwei had already set up his guild in advance.

The War Goose Guild had established a branch in Guiyang Prefecture in the Southern Province. The group erupted in complaints about the inconvenient location. Sima Duwei explained that the War Goose Guild's headquarters was located near the main Vermilion Bird Temple in the Southern Province, close to top-tier mage NPCs. That location made it easy to trigger high-level hidden quests and acquire rare magical techniques. It was a long-term strategic move.

The group quickly understood and started planning their trips south. Watching the flood of messages, Yang Fan began to seriously consider his own class path. He was currently in the Western Province, making the local White Tiger Temple assassin class the most convenient choice. But the guild's main base was in the Southern Province, where mage resources were abundant, and the potential was higher. He found himself torn between the two paths. Then his thoughts drifted back to his strange experience in the game.

The lord of the Black Snake stronghold, his hidden level, his mysterious background. He was no ordinary bandit. Yang Fan felt a jolt of inspiration. He remembered the lord's mention of the Ji clan and typed a question into the group chat.

"Does anyone know which faction the Ji clan belongs to?" Sima Duwei replied instantly.

"The imperial royal family. The Ji clan is the imperial bloodline." Yang Fan pressed further, asking about the power structure of the nine provinces. Sima Duwei gave a detailed explanation. When Emperor Xuanyuan unified the realm, he divided the nine provinces among his sons and founding ministers. Nine hereditary noble families were established to rule each province, forming the highest tier of power in the Xuanyuan Empire.

The Central Province was held by the imperial Ji clan, the Southern Province by the Jiang clan, and the remaining provinces by their respective great families. These families were deeply entrenched, their roots spreading through every level of society. As for the full names and detailed histories of all nine families, Sima Duwei explained that players would need to join a temple and access the scripture library to read the official historical records.

Yang Fan finished reading and felt a heavy weight settle in his chest. From the stronghold lord's words, it was clear he had deep knowledge of the imperial Ji clan. He must have had official backing, and it was highly likely he was connected to one of the nine great families. The lord had died suddenly, right in front of Yang Fan. Although the death had been caused by the armguards' backlash and not by Yang Fan's own hand, he had still been the one to deliver the cursed set that triggered the fatal effect.

If the lord's family ever came looking for answers, he would inevitably be caught up in the investigation. But then he reconsidered. There were no witnesses. The system had not registered him as the killer. It was a case with no evidence. Even if some shadowy power did trace the events back to him, he could always use the same playbook. He would offer the complete bronze armguards to them as well, present himself as a loyal servant, and join their ranks.

If he played his cards right, he might just land himself a place among the top powers of the empire and soar to new heights. With that thought, all his worries dissolved, replaced by eager anticipation. This was not a disaster. It was an opportunity. A tremendous one.