Chapter Twenty-Nine: The Anonymous Five

These past few days, Zhang He’s life had felt monotonous and dull. Centered around Huima Town, he wandered the hills alone, slaughtering pigs and cattle to train his martial skills and level up. His excellent constitution and bone attributes made skill cultivation much more efficient, but leveling up remained slow. At present, Zhang He’s attributes were as follows:

Level: 33
Sect: None
Title: None
Constitution: 143
Bone: 60
Strength: 50
Internal Power: 40
Agility: 24
Mental Method: 8
Courage: 15
Fortune: 0
Defense: 59
Chivalry Points: 4
Evil Points: 0

Martial Arts:
“Assault Sword Technique” (Master Level; increases attack output by 30%)
“Five Elements Palm” (Master Level; binds with strength x1.5)
“Coin Dart” (Master Level; damage = internal power x1.5 + strength)

Internal Power:
“Reviving the Withered” (Grandmaster Level; extends internal power usage by 90 seconds)
“Righteous Spirit Overflowing” (Grandmaster Level; courage x2.0)

Mental Method:
“Clear Wind Formula” (Advanced; restores 20% fatigue, 8% endurance, increases carrying capacity by 5%)

Qinggong:
“Treading Song Walk” (Grandmaster Level)

It must be said, Zhang He had put in considerable effort into his martial cultivation. Since these were lower-grade martial skills, reaching Grandmaster level in most of them wasn’t difficult in the short term. Yet roaming the hills slaughtering cattle and pigs for days was exceedingly tedious, and he was sick of the sight of wild boars and cattle. Still, every game required players to endure such boredom and solitude; it was a rite of passage.

Solo training was never the true path, though. To truly grow, leveling and skill training alone would not suffice; comprehensive strength was essential. Zhang He’s biggest problem at level thirty-three was his lack of class advancement.

Class advancement was not merely a matter of level—it granted much greater improvements in attributes and techniques. Take the Tang Sect in Yizhou, for example. Renowned for its poison refining and hidden weapon techniques, players could apply to join the Tang Sect at level twenty, becoming a first-tier Tang Sect disciple.

Upon advancement, a Tang Sect disciple gained an additional 5% to internal power and strength, while their alchemy and hidden weapon skills automatically rose one level. As the Tang Sect’s reputation grew from contributions by its members, the system’s rewards for each advancement would also increase.

This was precisely where unaffiliated players like Zhang He fell short; it was the sect members’ overwhelming advantage. According to Jun Ruojian, if one insisted on not joining a sect, unaffiliated players had several ways to bridge this gap.

First, if you were an exceptional alchemist, you could gather rare materials to refine peerless elixirs and improve innate attributes. But for Zhang He, this was wildly unrealistic—he could barely produce “Sweet High Emperors” as it was, and expecting him to reach the pinnacle of alchemy was pure fantasy.

Second, one could obtain rewards through rare encounter quests. This was even less plausible; it was like telling Zhang He to wander the streets and a gentle, elegant, virtuous beauty would suddenly appear out of nowhere, weep, and declare she must marry him—anyone holding such hopes was still dreaming.

The third method was the old way: seek out information everywhere. With this in mind, Zhang He returned to the market in Huima Town.

Er Lei had not refused Zhang He’s invitation to dine and drink at the Gathering House. In these times, if you wanted someone’s help, you didn’t necessarily have to offer benefits, but at least your attitude had to be proper. Thus, Er Lei wasn’t put off by Zhang He’s invitation; on the contrary, he thought this “Martial Recovery of Taiwan” was a man of principle.

Er Lei had dealt with Zhang He once before, and upon hearing Zhang He’s request, he became even more convinced that this “Martial Recovery of Taiwan” was an unconventional cultivator, and also quite shrewd for seeking him out for information.

The reasoning was simple: though Er Lei traded in Huima Town, the martial arts manuals he sold weren’t something a merchant player could easily acquire. Clearly, he had connections with experts who entrusted him to sell on their behalf, meaning his network in the martial world was extensive.

Zhang He had obviously considered this, so after Er Lei sipped some Daughter Red, he spoke slowly: “Brother, we’re both businessmen, and fairness in trade matters. I understand your difficulties. If it were someone else, I’d advise them to join a sect. But I know a few people like you, whose situations are quite similar.”

Zhang He was sharp and caught on immediately: “You mean these people faced the same problem—have they found a solution?”

Er Lei nodded: “I can guarantee that if you do this quest with them, you’ll get what you want in the end.”

Zhang He was overjoyed, but Er Lei’s next words startled him: “But let me be clear, this quest is extremely risky; a single misstep could bring disaster. Also, whether you succeed or fail, I require a deposit of twenty taels of gold. If successful, you’ll pay another eighty taels; if not, the deposit is non-refundable.”

“This…” Zhang He was dumbstruck. What exactly was Er Lei offering? Given Er Lei’s reputation for honest dealings, he wouldn’t joke about such matters, but the deposit alone was twenty taels of gold—wasn’t that a bit excessive?

Er Lei saw Zhang He’s furrowed brow and knew he was hesitating.

Naturally he would hesitate; a whiteboard-level player around thirty, even in Yizhou City, would find it daunting to produce a hundred taels of gold. What’s more, a hundred taels was no small sum.

If exchanged for cash in Yuhua Village, theoretically it could be worth tens of thousands of yuan, but that was just theory. The black market there couldn’t really handle such a large transaction. In Huima Town, the value would be heavily discounted. In Dongling County or Yizhou City, few black market dealers would bother with such a sum—it was easier to trade for equipment.

Er Lei said, “Well? Have you thought it over? If you’re willing, do as I say. If not, it’s no problem—we can cooperate another time.”

Zhang He exhaled deeply, then nodded slowly but firmly. His real life was far from satisfactory, but he refused to let himself remain this way in “Dynasty.”

He wanted to strive—not for the dazzling path of the game, but simply to prove himself, to grow stronger, and no longer suffer the contempt and neglect of so-called famous sects and masters.

***

Once more, the silent night—cool as water.

A cold mist filled the forest, and faint, nearly inaudible footsteps sounded. Five figures appeared in the fog, all clad in tight-fitting black night gear and masked.

Each had a black cloth wrapped around their head, revealing only a pair of sharp, gleaming eyes. The night gear was largely decorative, worn over equipment with no attributes, but it enhanced flexibility, allowing swift movement.

The five gathered beneath a lush tree. The leader’s voice was low and hoarse, oppressive and urgent: “This is our first meeting, our first collaboration. I believe all five of us are here for the same purpose and reward. Due to the difficulty of this quest, its details must remain secret until the action begins…”

The other four listened quietly, hardly daring to breathe. The atmosphere alone suggested that tonight’s mission would be astonishing.

Zhang He listened in silence—he was one of the five, dressed in night gear at the specified rendezvous, per Er Lei’s instructions.

He hadn’t expected his partners to all be masked and dressed in black. Other than knowing himself, none of the five knew each other’s true identity or appearance; clearly, no one wanted to be exposed.

From the leader’s words, Zhang He understood: since everyone was here for the same purpose, their levels and strength were likely similar. More precisely, their cultivation paths and philosophies aligned—they all adhered to the unaffiliated route, yet aspired to greater heights.

“These four are probably not simple!” Zhang He muttered inwardly.

With everyone masked, tonight’s task was unlikely to be anything good—perhaps murder and arson.

The team formed quickly, each having received prior instructions: the team roster would show only anonymous nicknames, with no real information.

Anonymous: Big Bull; Anonymous: Second Sister; Anonymous: Third Cannon; Anonymous: Fourth Stripe; Anonymous: Fifth Bamboo.

The leader was Big Bull. Big Bull spoke in a deep voice: “This quest is extremely perilous. I hope we all give our utmost—succeed or perish. I believe none of you are mere fish in a pond. After this battle, one day we’ll soar skyward. When that day comes, I hope you don’t forget the partners who once fought at your side. I suggest we add each other as friends for future cooperation.”

Anonymous teams could add friends, but only the code names would appear in the friend list—not real names. Still, with a coded pigeon message, you could contact whoever you wished.

Zhang He’s code name was Fifth Bamboo. He sighed again, suspecting he was the weakest in this group.

Brothers, seeking comfort, support, and favorites—give me your votes!