The formation fell silent for about a second, then the players quickly exploded.
Of course, constrained by Sergeant Major "Gao Mulan's" strength, they did not dare whisper among themselves or make a noisy commotion again. Instead, they took to the team chat:
[tsr0099]: [Holy shit! One slash? What just happened? I was in the back and didn't see it!]
[Elder Scrolls Dark Souls Husky]: [Yeah, just one slash! I was in the front row, but I still didn't see how she moved. I only saw her twist and flash—I really couldn't tell when she drew her blade!]
[Zhou Zihang]: [Same here. I didn't see it either.]
[Charlatan Mengde]: [What a vicious NPC—cool and fierce... Even though we can't die for real, I suddenly kind of want to go back to selling flatbread.]
[Demon of Mortals]: [???]
[Azure Corridor]: [The flatbread business is ours, and even we've given up on it. Why don't you go back to selling your bombs instead? Why sell flatbread? You can't make money off flatbread anymore.]
[Charlatan Mengde]: [Bombs aren't easy to sell anymore either. In a few days, the barracks will be up, followed by heavy factories. By then, weapons and equipment will be dirt cheap. Who's going to buy our lousy bombs?]
[Demon of Mortals]: [Don't overthink it. Just stick with the NPCs! The third supply station belonging to us players is almost finished now. That dirt-eating food culture won't make any money anymore. Haven't you seen that our "Green Dalang Catering" already went bankrupt?]
[Bearded Man]: [You guys made quite a bit these past few days, didn't you?]
[Demon of Mortals]: [Not that much. Anyway, nowhere near as much as you guys. We're not like you—we can't even buy a supply station outright. You're seriously loaded!]
[Vinegar-Dressed Lemon]: [I did the math. Fifteen