The second method was to kill the strange creatures.
Most people had never killed one before. They had learned from NPCs that killing strange creatures could temper the soul and grant Lifespan.
Fang Yue had tested this himself, so he could confirm it was true.
But strange creatures were so powerful that most players still couldn't kill one alone.
Still, this was a gathering place for professional players. They came up with all kinds of underhanded plans, like digging traps or hiring people to act as meat shields before swarming their prey. They were ready to put in some serious effort.
The third method was generally considered the most reliable.
Any village or town with an earth core required residents who wanted to stay long-term to pay Lifespan to the authorities, much like taxes.
The authorities would use this Lifespan to issue missions.
The reward for these official missions was Lifespan!
The problem was that these missions were extremely dangerous.
For instance, you might patrol the wilderness at night, act as bait to lure a strange creature in, or even serve as food for one—with the Lifespan earned from the mission left for your family to handle.
There were all kinds of missions, but the ones most people favored were those involving technical and logistical work.
Things like making pills, gathering medicinal herbs, prospecting for minerals, maintaining equipment, and forging weapons.
These missions had no strength requirements, only a required skill level in a trade. Players could learn skills from NPCs, then take on missions once they had mastered them. They were much less dangerous, though the rewards were also far smaller.
Most people worked on learning trade skills to earn Lifespan.
But some people raised doubts.
They argued that, after entering the game, every player had only one day of Lifespan, unless they had gained more through some special opportunity.
They had to learn a trade skill, take a mission, and complete it before their Lifespan ran out—all within a single day.
That was far too rushed. Not many could successfully complete the whole process. It was extremely difficult, and with no examples of how much Lifespan a mission might reward, it was basically a gamble.
But the voices of this small group were drowned out by the prevailing opinion. Nobody paid them any attention.
After all, this was already the most reliable way to earn Lifespan.
Of course, some people had an even bolder idea: once their Lifespan ran out, they would fight the Ghost Messenger. My fate was mine to decide, not heaven's.
Unfortunately, nobody thought much of them. If new players with nothing to their name could fight a Ghost Messenger right at the start of the game, wouldn't Lifespan as a stat be a joke?
Aside from those three reliable ways to earn Lifespan, the forums were full of other guesses.
Some people suspected that reaching a higher realm would increase their Lifespan, but nobody had confirmed it.
Others wondered if killing NPCs might let them steal the Lifespan of ordinary NPCs.
Players were the sort to act on their ideas, but most attempts never got a follow-up. They had probably failed.
As for whether advancing realms increased Lifespan, Fang Yue could set the record straight.
After thinking it over, Fang Yue made a post.
<[Night Dawn Presents] The Latest and Most Complete Guide to Lifespan>.
In his first post, Fang Yue had sorted through the Lifespan information he'd gathered from the forums, summarized it, and added his own comments.
Then he added some exclusive information and personal experiences, like getting Lifespan directly as a system reward and earning Lifespan for killing strange creatures.
There had been plenty of discussion about Lifespan on the forums, but the information was scattered everywhere, and some posts were even behind steep paywalls. Nobody had ever put together a guide this systematic. Fang Yue had essentially collected other people's work, organized and summarized it, then added his own material.
Considering how much money his last post had brought in, and the small amount he'd spent gathering Lifespan information, Fang Yue set a high price for this one: 100 yuan!
He had to make back his investment!
After publishing the post, Fang Yue immediately refreshed the creator dashboard over and over. But even after refreshing for quite a while, he found that nobody had bought it.
He went to the homepage and saw that other posts had already pushed his far down the list. It was nowhere to be seen.
Fang Yue froze, then immediately understood.
He'd set the price too high. Even if people saw the post on the homepage, they would hesitate when they saw the price. By the time they decided whether to buy it, the post would have disappeared from view.
Nobody was going to search for a brand-new post by keyword just to find it, so it would sink without a trace.
And once a post sank without a trace, it would never get another chance to be seen unless new replies brought it back to life.
Fang Yue caught on and immediately changed the price, switching to a low-profit, high-volume strategy.
Price: 0.5!
"Sure, it's not the 100-yuan price I was hoping for, but it's five times what I charged for my last post. That's progress."
Fang Yue reassured himself, bumped the post, and refreshed the dashboard again. At last, he saw that someone had paid for it.
Fang Yue refreshed for a while longer. The post sold now and then, until it finally started to gain some traction.
With his mind at ease, Fang Yue thought for a moment, then made another post.
<After Becoming a Houtian Realm Martial Artist, I Realized Just How Vast the World Is>.
The post explained the Martial Artist realms and how advancing to a higher realm increased a player's health.
Fang Yue made this post free, but added links to his two paid posts at the very end. Maybe someone would read to the end and casually click on one of the paid posts. That would mean a little more pocket money for him.
After publishing both posts, he finished his instant noodles.
Fang Yue rubbed his temples and continued browsing the forums, when he suddenly noticed a popular post getting bumped to the top.
<Blue Sea, a Fascinating Game Destined to Fail. Guys, I'm Quitting First>.
The title was pure clickbait, but the poster was actually a prominent influencer named Liang Baikaishui, a veteran who'd spent years in professional gaming circles.
Fang Yue checked the price and was surprised to see that it was free.
Curious, he clicked in and took a closer look.
The first half of the post praised how exciting Blue Sea was and how captivating its various features were.
Then, in the second half, the author abruptly changed his tune, sharply criticizing the game's excessive difficulty and declaring it unsuitable for ordinary players.
"A game that takes the world by storm has to be suitable for all ages. It can't be some brutally difficult game like this."
"This game doesn't even have a tutorial, and it's not clear how you're supposed to level up. There's no auto-pathfinding, no low-level monsters to grind for experience, and you have to go out of your way to complete missions and earn Lifespan just to stay alive. You're practically clinging to life by your fingertips."
"A game like this might draw in players with its flashy looks, but it'll never last."
"Once the initial enthusiasm dies down, the game is bound to enter a long winter."
"Guys, we professional players are here to make money. Is a game that ordinary players are bound to abandon, a game that's about to lose its popularity, really worth investing our time and effort in?"
"The answer is no. This game is doomed to fail!"
"I'll go on record: this game will shut down in less than a month!"
"We make a living off games, and this one isn't fit to make a living from. It's only for hardcore players. I have to say, Tengli Group made the wrong move!"
"So I'm quitting the game. I'm leaving this post here for free, as a warning to those who come after me."
Before you continue