"Have you heard? The Phoenix Guild is hunting down Light of the White Race. They've already chased him for two kilometers," someone whispered in a city in the main world.
"Wasn't that happening in Multiverse Number 8? How did word get out?"
"Oh, while Light of the White Race was fleeing, he casually used his hand crossbow to kill two more players who were watching the show. Those two players posted about it after respawning, and they're cursing him out now."
Black Spider logged in.
She was the executioner of the Storm Duke's adjudication organization and the supreme commander of its secret intelligence agency, so naturally, she still had plenty to deal with in the real world.
The incident involving the Junlin Aerial Fortress being shot down had yet to be fully resolved even now. The technical investigation was still ongoing.
Although the Aerial Fortress had crashed, its systems had been forcibly wiped, and the raging fire had burned everything inside to ash, there were still countless doubts: there were no corpses inside, and the real—
"President, it's been confirmed. In Multiverse Number 8, every player killed grants 1 point," a Storm Guild member said. "Light of the White Race has now killed 12 players, gaining 12 points. If someone can organize ten thousand people to enter the instance and trigger the mechanism, then have everyone let the same person kill them, that person could very likely hold first place on the points leaderboard every month."
Someone nearby sucked in a cold breath. "Why is Light of the White Race—"
"Hasn't he come out yet?"
Outside the tree hollow in Multiverse Number 8, Black Spider waited calmly.
Over the past day or so, she had logged out and returned several times, but Light of the White Race's status had remained