Chapter Ninety-Nine: The Silent Brush

The first guild battle in the New World had ended, yet aside from those who participated, most players remained unaware. To stir up attention, Stormblade, ever flamboyant, posted a message in the world chat.

World Channel:

Stormblade: The guild battle is over. Our opponents were a bit weak. Honestly, didn’t even have to try—felt like we just laid down and won.

“Damn, only took ten minutes? That’s fast.”
“Stormblade, are the war banners really that easy to destroy? Besides, the Overlord Guild has two hundred members—did they just stand there and watch?”
“They must have taken out the players first, then the banners. Otherwise, how could they attack the flags in peace?”
“This is crazy. Two hundred opponents and three banners eliminated in ten minutes?”
“Wasn’t the Sea Dragon King supposed to have two scrolls? Didn’t he use them?”
“He definitely did. If not now, then when—saving them for a rainy day?”
“Storm Guild is awesome. Were the Sea Dragon King’s scrolls duds?”
Storm Sovereign: The guild battle video has been compiled and uploaded to the forum. Anyone interested can go check it out.

“Boss, you’re generous, not keeping secrets. I’ll take a look.”

Once Storm Sovereign uploaded the video, the world channel quieted briefly before erupting again.

“Wow, the Sea Dragon King’s Thunder Scroll is insane—unstoppable, kills as many as it hits.”
“You’re missing the point. Why did Six Bodhisattvas get up again after being killed by the scroll?”
“Wait, seriously? Is that some kind of item—a death immunity token?”
“Does this game even have such an item?”
“No idea. We’ll have to ask the artifact master.”
Heavenly Dragon Slayer: Six Bodhisattvas is just a cheat, not an item. We’ve seen him revive twice now. When you fight him, make sure to guard the corpse after knocking him down.

Dragon Slayer, ever so reckless, loudly proclaimed Six Bodhisattvas’ rebirth skill, making sneaky plays impossible for him in the future. But there was no helping it; he’d already triggered his resurrection twice in front of others, so keeping it secret was no longer an option.

“It’s not a one-time item? Maybe a skill or equipment effect? That’s impressive—he can just keep getting back up?”
“That can’t be. There must be limits—like a long cooldown or trigger chance. If someone never dies, that’s real cheating.”
“Artifact master, come out and explain this.”

Zhang Shan stayed silent. Was he supposed to tell them? Never. If his skill was revealed, everyone would know about his King of Passives talent. If they found out, jealousy would only grow. For their sake, Zhang Shan kept quiet.

Posting in world chat cost money, so he let them guess. Right now, only a few in the Storm Guild knew about his talent. Although Zhang Shan hadn’t specifically asked them to keep it secret, the top players clearly understood the importance and hadn’t spread the news.

Since he was in the city, he made a routine stop at the auction house. Sadly, luck wasn’t always on his side—scoring bargains was only an occasional treat. This time, nothing noteworthy.

He checked the prices for engineering blueprints. Level one ordinary bullet blueprint cost six hundred gold coins—not expensive, so he bought it. Zhang Shan had hoped to farm one himself, which would save money, but after days of trying, nothing dropped. Better to buy one as backup.

In a few days, if he had time, he’d consider picking up a life profession. Since he’d bought the blueprint, he checked the required materials.

Ordinary bullet materials were the most basic and cheap: wood, iron ore, and bronze. Except for bronze, which was a green-grade material and slightly pricier, wood and iron were white-grade—very cheap. One gold coin could buy a heap.

The engineering profession certificate started at a thousand gold coins—price had always been stable, but the buyout was high. No need to rush; he placed a bid for twelve hundred gold. If he didn’t win, so be it—it wasn’t rare. If needed, the auction house always had them.

After storing the blueprint and materials in the warehouse, Zhang Shan set out to continue farming ants. Grinding and leveling up were the game's eternal themes. He repaired his equipment, stocked up on supplies, and headed for Ant Hill.

It was truly far—he jogged along patiently.

He checked in with Boss Wu, who was still at the beginner village. Wu had entered the game on the second day. He worked during the day and played only four or five hours nightly, so reaching level ten and leaving the beginner zone would take some time.

Calling Blade-wielding Taoist:

“Boss Wu, what level are you now?”
“Level five—still a bit short of six.”
“Why so slow? You played last night, and two hours today. Is leveling really this hard?”

“No choice. The game’s setup is really dumb—Taoists don’t have magic ball attacks, just a wooden sword for monsters. It’s tough.”
“Team up with others. Soloing won’t cut it.”
“I did team up; otherwise, at level one, even chickens were hard to kill.”
“Alright, take your time. Once you hit ten, I’ll help you level.”
“Sure, no rush. I’ll be ten in a couple of days.”

The Taoist class truly struggled early on. The attack blessing added damage proportionally, but had little effect in the early game. Only after reaching higher attack stats, like Zhang Shan now, did it matter; early players had barely a few dozen attack points. Adding twenty percent made no difference.

Wind Chime had once pitifully hacked at chickens alone. If Zhang Shan and Lone Rider hadn’t brought her along, she’d have spent ages fighting the enchanted chickens herself.

But after leaving the beginner village, Taoists became highly sought after everywhere. Any team of several players would always include a Taoist. For grinding monsters, a thousand attack plus two hundred, two thousand up to four hundred—when everyone got the bonus, farming efficiency soared.

After ending the call, Zhang Shan spent over forty minutes reaching the Ant Hill map. He summoned Panda Baby and focused on farming monsters.

There wasn’t much else to do lately. He planned to run a dungeon before next Wednesday. Alone on a level forty monster map, far from player disputes, there was little chance of PvP.

Zhang Shan’s principle was simple: if no one bothered him, he was a peaceful grinder; but if someone picked a fight, he’d turn into the Grim Reaper and send them packing.

Once he hit level twenty-six, the marching ants’ suppression eased. The suppression mechanism seemed to work in five-level intervals. Now, marching ants could only suppress him by two tiers, making grinding more efficient.

Previously, each attack dealt fifteen hundred damage; now it reached two thousand. Without any special critical effects, he could defeat a marching ant in six shots.

Though grinding was faster, leveling wasn’t. Reaching level twenty-seven required twelve thousand experience—astonishing. Even if he gained over three hundred thousand experience per hour, he’d need two days of nonstop grinding, with no interruptions.