Chapter 77
Chapter 77
The top spot on the combat power leaderboard belonged to a player named tian tian gui xiao. Strangely, this first-place ID didn’t even rank in the top twenty of the level leaderboard. The “Order” suffix after their name indicated guild affiliation, confirming they weren’t one of the two anonymous players on the level rankings. High-tier guilds like Order had no reason to keep their top players anonymous—their names were badges of honor, showcasing the guild’s strength.
Feng Bu Jue mused, “So a single-digit level gap really doesn’t mean much in this game. The level rankings are just a rough guide to show who’s charging through the early levels fastest. The real threats are the ones on this combat power list.”
Scanning the entire combat power leaderboard, Feng Bu Jue noticed no anonymous players. All top twenty Ids bore guild names. It was clear that solo players struggled to compete with those backed by guild resources, especially in the early game. Combat power wasn’t just about raw skill—it relied heavily on proficiency levels, skills, and equipment. Guild-backed players had superior gear and skill arsenals, creating a stark gap. At around level twenty, most players’ proficiency levels plateaued at D-rank, amplifying the disparity.
Notably, while tian tian gui xiao held first place, other Order-affiliated players didn’t appear until sixth position. Sixth place belonged to Fearless Hero, the current level ranking champion and the first player to reach the closed beta cap.
Positions two through five belonged to another guild, The Gods, with Ids Shiva, Vishnu, Brahma, and Yama. These four weren’t just dominant in combat power—they also ranked in the top ten of the level leaderboard, proving The Gods’ strength.
Feng Bu Jue then checked the west and north pillars, which displayed the Guild Comprehensive Strength and Guild Combat Power leaderboards. As expected, Order and The Gods occupied the top two spots on both. The Gods led in raw combat power, but Order excelled in comprehensive strength.
The term “Comprehensive Strength” was telling. Unlike combat power, it measured a guild’s overall capabilities—resources, manpower, and efficiency. Order’s defining trait was its lack of weaknesses. For example, Yongzhe wudi, whom Feng Bu Jue had encountered earlier, was one of Order’s closed beta specialists dedicated to mastering martial arts proficiency. His role wasn’t to chase levels or gear but to gather critical data and experience for the guild. Other proficiencies were similarly handled by dedicated researchers. This systematic approach gave Order a near-flawless strategy, letting their main players leap ahead in the open beta phase.
The Gods, however, took a different approach. Their strength lay in individual player talent. While other guilds strategized, The Gods simply threw their star players into the closed beta early, trusting their raw skill to carry them. Their strategy was simple: play to win, no matter the game.
Feng Bu Jue noted that seven guilds had players on both the level and combat power leaderboards, with Order and The Gods leading the pack. The rest remained obscure, though their absence from the leaderboards didn’t necessarily mean weakness.
After reviewing the four sector pillars, Feng Bu Jue reached the Central Information Tower to check the auction house. Prices were absurd—mediocre equipment sold for exorbitant sums. A level-ten fine-grade weapon started at 120,000 in-game currency, with a buyout price of 200,000. Feng Bu Jue chuckled. For that price, players could buy a full set of cheap clothing and never worry about gear lifespan. After all, most equipment became obsolete by level twenty.
The open beta’s early days were rife with overpricing. Players feared undervaluing their auctioned items, haunted by the dread of later discovering a discarded “trash” item was actually priceless. Everyone aimed to buy low and sell high, hoping to exploit a newbie’s mistake. But in a market flooded with overpriced listings, only reasonable sellers found buyers.
In Terrifying Paradise, where equipment attributes generated randomly, hoarding and price manipulation were nearly impossible. Reselling items bought from the system store was also banned, as was listing trash-tier items without special effects. The auction house rejected attempts to profit from useless scenario loot like “Stones” or “Dog Shit.”
Feng Bu Jue scrolled through endless overpriced listings. He realized he could sell his Mario’s Pipe Wrench, Jazzy Moves, and Echo Armor as a bundle for 600,000—likely sparking a bidding war. Buyers would gloat, convinced they’d outsmarted a “fool.”
A plan formed.
He headed to the elevator, aiming for Scare Box, the last unexplored zone. With no equipment pressure and ample skill points, he could buy fine-grade gear, price it reasonably, and profit handsomely.
Back in the login space, Feng Bu Jue retrieved his flashlight from storage and claimed his fear rating reward. He ignored the 50,000 currency reward—worthless compared to equipment profits. His random reward was:
Kenny’s Hoodie
Type: Armor
Quality: Fine
Defense: N/A
Special Effect: Passively absorbs team damage (monsters, accidents, disasters) within probability limits. In Team Survival Mode (Common), revives the wearer once upon death.
Requirements: Male players only, soulbound on equip.
Background: Oh my God! They killed Kenny!
The hoodie occupied the upper-body slot, separate from cosmetic clothing. Feng Bu Jue smirked. Even if he couldn’t equip Echo Armor yet, he’d never risk wearing this cursed item—self-sacrifice or gifting it would be suicidal. Better to auction it off.
With 8/10 satchel slots full, he reserved space for two Scare Box purchases. At 300 skill points per item, he’d have enough.
The elevator to Scare Box felt eerie. After a chaotic, rollercoaster-like ride, the doors opened to an unexpected sight…
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
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