Fu Changxun set his cup down. “Still, we’ll have to join up eventually to discuss things. For now, let’s make some money—it’s always good to be prepared. Once we’ve got some, then we can ‘join’ them.”
He didn’t trust human nature enough to leave things to chance—and naturally, he didn’t fully trust the other players either.
Posing as a pretty face… harmless enough. Getting back into the rhythm of the last instance? Easy.
Meanwhile, the speed-ability player who’d dashed back had rejoined his team.
Panting, he reported, “Three people. All players. The last one’s not with them.”
A teammate asked, “Did they manage to get money on their own? Are they willing to join us?”
“I… I forgot to ask.”
Only now did he realize his blunder—and his face went pale. The others didn’t take it well.
“You forgot?! That was literally the one thing we told you to ask!”
The speedster hung his head in shame. “I’m sorry… but one of them—one of them might have a power that seduces or charms people! He made himself so attractive—I think I got caught up in it.”
The three teammates looked over at the remaining five members. One of them said, “Could be. We’ve got five newbies and four veterans—so they must have a veteran too.”
“Forget it. If they can’t get any money, they’ll come crawling back to us.”
After a brief discussion, the group turned their focus back to investigating the “General” and didn’t spare Fu Changxun’s trio another thought.
***
Golden Hook Gambling Hall.
The moment Dong Zi stepped inside, the din and stench of sweat hit him like a wall, making him instinctively frown.
The casino was a chaotic mess of gamblers from all walks of life, their shouting and hollering echoing nonstop. Dong Zi stayed close to Fu Changxun, wary of getting separated in the crush.
Fu Changxun, on the other hand, seemed right at home—already pushing into the crowd with visible excitement.
When they’d first discussed how to get money, Fu Changxun had reminded everyone to shut off their livestream. But now, it was time to turn it back on. Gambling, of course, was “wrong,” but the real goal was to make some quick money—and more importantly, to gather intel. This place, full of shady characters and loose tongues, was perfect for that.
Xu Zhengyi and Xiaoxiao hadn’t come inside. Partly to avoid exposing a child to vice, and partly to have someone outside in case anything went south.
Still, they both chipped in fifteen points to support the effort.
“Place your bets! Big or small!”
“Big!”
“Small! I’m all in on small!”
The livestream had lost over half its viewers when they used the disguise item and suddenly went dark—but oddly enough, a large number had returned.
[Where is this?]
[A gambling den. Must be one of those entertainment venues for low-dimensional lifeforms.]
[Interesting… these fragile humans sure invented a lot of ways to entertain themselves.]
[Oh, look at that human NPC in the instance—is he cheating? What do they call it again… ‘chuqian’?]
Among the human viewers—especially Huaxia’s archaeologists—there was palpable excitement. This was a living, breathing recreation of the ancient world, the kind of immersive historical detail they’d only dreamed of uncovering.
But tragically, it had come to them through a game that had killed countless human lives—Low-Dimensional Selection.
“Why… why did it have to be like this…”
Humanity didn’t even fully understand its own history. So how had the higher-dimensionals simulated it so perfectly?
No one knew—and there was nowhere to ask.
Back in the noisy gambling hall, the two of them had circled the various tables, getting a feel for the layout. Once they had the structure down, it was time to test the waters.
“I checked the reverse exchange rate from money to points—it’s 100 to 1. You need a full tael of silver just to get 10 points back,” Fu Changxun said as he grabbed Dong Zi’s hand, his tone serious. “So our food, lodging, and survival—it’s all on you now, Ah Zi. I believe in you. Go for it!”
Before Dong Zi could even respond, Fu Changxun exchanged all their remaining points into cash, dumped it into Dong Zi’s hands, and vanished into the crowd with the black cat in tow.
“……”
That was… a lot of trust.
He had the feeling something about this was off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. In the end, he simply picked a dice table and took a seat.
From within the crowd, Fu Changxun glanced over at him. He didn’t completely trust Dong Zi—this was a test. A way to see if Dong Zi could be a viable long-term teammate.
If Dong Zi could use his ability to win back their points, great.
If he couldn’t, or if he lost it all… then Fu Changxun could just use Cognitive Distortion to convince NPCs to hand over their money. But in that case, he wouldn’t team up with Dong Zi again in the next instance.
He let out a soft sigh.
No helping it—he really was, at his core… a pure rationalist.
Still, he hoped Dong Zi wouldn’t let him down.
The black cat weaved elegantly and silently through the crowds.
Meanwhile, Fu Changxun sidled up to a shabby-looking man. “Bro, that last bet of yours was amazing! Doubled your money just like that—your luck must be off the charts!”
The man looked like he’d been down on his luck for a long time. Hearing this unexpected flattery—especially from such a stunning young man—his spirits lifted instantly. “Haha, it was nothing, really.”
“Oh come on, no need to be so modest. Luck is a form of strength too, you know,” Fu Changxun replied with an easy smile, continuing to butter him up. “Bro, you’re seriously underestimating yourself. We must be fated to meet. I’m new in town—mind helping me understand the lay of the land?”
Drunk on the praise, the man puffed up his chest. “No problem at all.” He thumped his chest confidently. “I’ve lived in Yuangjing for over twenty years. No one knows it better than I do.”
Seizing the momentum, Fu Changxun said, “That’s perfect. Would you mind giving me some recommendations?”
The man clasped his hands politely. “The name’s Cheng En. And you, my friend?”
Fu Changxun mimicked the gesture. “Just call me Fu. Much obliged, Cheng-ge.”
Cheng En carefully tucked away his coin pouch and spoke with great gravity. “If you’re new in Yuangjing, there’s one place you must visit—General’s Platform. His Majesty had it built specifically for the General. Commoners go there to offer prayers and blessings, hoping for national prosperity and peace along the borders.”
“Oh? Built by the Emperor himself?” Fu Changxun’s ears perked up—this sounded like a lead.
Cheng En looked mysteriously cautious. “That’s the official story. But the rumors say otherwise…”
Fu Changxun leaned in with interest. “Oh?”
Cheng En lowered his voice. “The word is… General’s Platform was actually built in memory of the previous General…”
They moved to a quieter corner, where Fu Changxun spent a full half-hour coaxing Cheng En into spilling practically everything there was to know about major events in the capital.
This kind of open-book NPC, who told you everything they knew without reservation was exactly his favorite kind.
As they were about to leave, Fu Changxun waved Dong Zi over. The latter walked up carrying a bulging coin pouch.
“Dong-ge, this is Young Master Cheng. He’s been generous with his time—give him something for his troubles.”
Naturally, Fu Changxun—broke as he was—had to rely on Dong Zi’s gambling gains.
Dong Zi had the vague feeling he’d just been used, but seeing the expectant look in Fu Changxun’s eyes, he couldn’t help feeling oddly… accomplished.
Like he was raising a particularly clever pet.
“…Alright.”
He replied softly to Ah Xun, then turned coldly toward Cheng En and tossed him half a tael of silver.
