Cheng Ye nodded. "Players are always given a prompt the first time they awaken a talent inside a dungeon. Reflection Space is a very special place. In a sense, it's somewhat idealistic in nature, and almost anything can happen there.
"I've been collecting and organizing all kinds of player talents and comparing case studies. I've already discovered a lot of conditions. As long as you work hard to meet them, you can basically guarantee that you'll awaken a talent.
"Some talents are extremely special, though, especially A-rank and B-rank ones. They're either connected to certain entities in the dungeon,
"or the player had some quality that made them vastly different from ordinary people even before they became a player. So different that they were practically a different species."
He was a genuinely earnest sort. It was only when the conversation turned to his field of expertise that he became so talkative.
"So I take the player under your wing very seriously. Every A-rank and B-rank talent could be unique, but in sufficiently extreme environments or under the right conditions, replication isn't impossible."
Zhang Anzai looked at the complicated talents, along with the conditions and case studies beneath them—some collapsed, some expanded—and couldn't help exclaiming, "That's amazing..."
Cheng Ye quickly turned the screen back toward himself. "I've always believed that talents, as something on par with skills and items, are no weaker than either of those.
"In fact, since talents have a major influence on the inheritance someone receives at the beginning, I think they might be even more powerful. Especially since, unlike skills and items, which can only be obtained in dungeons or purchased, talents can sometimes develop on their own."
Zhang Anzai agreed. "Being able to train one directly is obviously great. Most rookies are poor, and they can't afford the resources needed for skills and items. Besides, when we take rookies under our wings, talents are basically all they can rely on."
Cheng Ye nodded. "Unfortunately, skills and items can be bought directly or obtained repeatedly through dungeons, which makes them quantifiable. The section chief and most of the staff still focus on those two categories. That's why our progress has been so slow."
Zhang Anzai felt the time was right, so he got straight to the point. "Section Chief Cheng, I think you've got it wrong."
Cheng Ye didn't understand. "What do you mean?"
Zhang Anzai immediately explained, "Talents are different from those other two. You don't have to rely only on your staff to study them. You can rely on us, too."
Cheng Ye perked up. "You mean..."
Zhang Anzai seized the opening. "We have to send you the player files we collect anyway, so why not work directly with us?
"Once you have an idea, send it our way. We'll have players test it out in dungeons, and then you can see what works and what doesn't. Wouldn't that be much faster than having your people compare and sift through cases one by one?"
Cheng Ye's eyes lit up. "Oh... That makes sense."
Zhang Anzai quickly added, "Of course, we can't make a big deal of it. It's a cross-department collaboration, so we shouldn't make a splash right away. You could get in touch with a few people on our side first, start with D-rank talents, and take it slowly."
Zhang Anzai's goal was obvious. As soon as he got here, he'd realized with delight that this guy was basically a skill database system from some ordinary game.
He'd already organized his own database, complete with skill types, training methods, and all sorts of other information. The only problem was that it was all still just his personal theories, with nothing tested.
The company, for its part, probably wouldn't interfere with his research. If the administrators brought in more information, his research would surely succeed in time.
But with the company's usual ways, if this thing ever became a feature, they'd probably charge for it.
By approaching Cheng Ye now, Zhang Anzai was essentially becoming an unofficial outsourced beta tester on the inside. He could get information for free, so why not? Even if the higher-ups found out, it would just be coworkers helping each other out—not a big deal.
Their company wasn't like those other companies that treated their software and rules as more important than anything else.
"Add my account. I'll think it over and get in touch with you later." Cheng Ye pointed toward the door as he spoke.
Zhang Anzai turned to look and only then noticed a QR code over there.
Underneath it was a line of text: Personal account. If it's not urgent, add me first and send a message. I'll deal with everything when I have time.
Zhang Anzai grinned. This guy really was a rare breed: a total workaholic.
"You're so busy every single day... It's a bit much," Lin Zhao complained helplessly.
Zhang Anzai sniffed ostentatiously a couple of times. "Did you have vinegar-braised vegetables for lunch?"
Lin Zhao: "?"
Seeing the young woman beside him puff up in annoyance, Zhang Anzai grinned.
Lin Zhao sighed helplessly. She wasn't all that jealous, really. Zhang Anzai's poor performance before had just been bad luck. In terms of experience and ability, how could someone who'd started earlier and worked especially hard possibly be completely incapable of looking after players?
"It'd be even better if you weren't so smug..."
Zhang Anzai had spent all day running around, and it was almost time to get off work.
After dinner, they each headed back to their dormitories.
Lin Zhao's dorm room was laid out much like Zhang Anzai's.
It had a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a window. As soon as she went in, she turned on the computer.
"Tsk..." Lin Zhao looked at the dungeon still in progress on the screen and sighed helplessly.
"Xiao Zhao! Miss! Help me!" the burly man on the screen shouted.
In front of him stood a dimly lit private collection hall. A mummified corpse, skin stretched tight over bone and dressed in a full suit of ancient armor, had climbed out of a huge stone coffin.
The mummy stood up and stretched a little. Then, with a bony hand whose joints were exposed, it smashed the glass display case and pulled out a massive nine-ring saber. It brought the weapon down in a furious slash.
Lin Zhao hurriedly switched to the shop page and, with practiced ease, bought the incredibly expensive Free Communication Charm.
It was the ultimate way for administrators to communicate with players: no restrictions, unlimited conversation, but 100 points per use.
"Phew..." Lin Zhao exhaled, then took a deep breath and began to build up her strength. "Could you all please get your act together for once?!"
The big guy on the screen drew a narrow-bladed, one-handed straight sword and was dodging and weaving with highly professional footwork. The sudden voice startled him.
But then, as if the one-sided beating from the Skeleton General had finally started to wear him down, he seemed to find new resolve. He forcefully knocked aside the battle saber swinging at him and quickly retreated a few steps.
His steps landed firmly on the ground. Then he pulled a talisman from his clothes, decisively bit the tip of his finger, and drew across the talisman with it. He crumpled the paper, put it in his mouth, and pressed it beneath his tongue. "Form-Intention Martial Way... Guidance from the sages!"
"I told you to train properly back then, but you wouldn't listen! You kept embarrassing the martial arts school in sparring matches, and now I have to clean up your mess!"
Lin Zhao began yelling at the screen through the wireless communication service. But as she ranted, she suddenly shouted, "Coil your head!"
The big guy on the screen abruptly raised his saber and swept it around his head. His arm circled beside his head as the blade angled upward, deflecting the nine-ring saber slashing straight down at him.
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