The Beast-Taming Player Who Loves Killing Alts

"Hit the Warlock, hit the Warlock, I'm choking the Shaman! He used Grounding Totem first, it's fine, I broke the totem, full choke, full choke, hit the Warlock, execute, execute, execute! Nice!"

On another cool autumn day, in a residential building in Xiajing City, a room on the third floor once again echoed with such passionate shouting, just as it always did.

Malone, an ordinary white-collar worker, was currently sitting in front of his computer, enjoying one of his rare days off.

Unlike his peers, Malone's chosen form of entertainment wasn't traveling with hiking groups or going on dates with a girlfriend; instead, he spent his holidays immersed in the famous online game, World of Warcraft.

Now twenty-six, Malone had been playing World of Warcraft for over eight years. From middle school to university, and from university to the workforce, he had changed schools, cities, and even girlfriends one after another. The only thing that remained constant, accompanying him every step of the way, was his undying passion for this game.

As an evergreen in the gaming world, World of Warcraft naturally featured a wide variety of gameplay, primarily divided into "PVE" and "PVP." Due to the demands of his studies and career, Malone's time had become increasingly scarce, leading him to transition from playing both "PVP" and "PVE" to focusing exclusively on "PVP."

"PVE" refers to the interaction between players and the "environment," meaning combat against monsters in the wild or in dungeons; "PVP," on the other hand, refers to combat between players.

"PVP" activities in World of Warcraft had increased year by year. Beyond the initial player-versus-player "duels"—commonly known as one-on-ones—it eventually evolved into large-scale skirmishes in the wild, as well as combat in specific environments like Battlegrounds and Arenas. What Malone was currently engaged in was the Arena.

As the name suggests, the "Arena" involves transporting groups of players into a confined area to fight. Malone's teammates in the Arena were his high school classmates—the very same group he had first met when he started playing the game.

"Hey, that was a great play just now! We've run into this team several times before, but this win felt the best!" After finishing an Arena match, Malone skillfully clicked on the "PVP" panel to queue for the next battle while communicating with his teammates—his classmates—via voice chat software.

"Yeah, Brother Long, your execution was sharp this time. Breaking the Grounding Totem instantly, haha!" came the compliments from his teammates over the voice channel.

Of course, there was always someone to play devil's advocate. "Oh, give it a rest. Did you see how many times he got his Choke reflected earlier? This was just a blind cat stumbling onto a dead mouse!" This was another classmate chiming in with a dismissive scoff—though, of course, there was no real malice behind it.

"Go on, get lost, you. Not convinced? Want to meet at the fortress gate for a round?" Malone challenged with a laugh—"a round" referring to a one-on-one PK.

"I'm a healer, are you serious?" the classmate who mocked him replied with disdain.

"Then I'll switch to my Holy Paladin?" Malone pressed on.

"Forget it. Two healers? Do you want to play until the servers shut down?" Another classmate seemed to have zero interest in such a thing.

"Anyway, Brother Long only knows how to play two classes: a Death Knight and a Paladin. Even though he plays them well, he's not like me—I've mastered every class, haha!" a classmate joked.

"Hey? Why isn't it queuing? I don't see many teams left now. Should we just call it a day? My wife is waiting for me to take her out shopping!" Seeing that they hadn't been matched for a while, one classmate was the first to back out.

"Hey, hey, hey, seriously? You're how old and you're still going shopping? Just throw your bank card at your wife and let her go wild shopping online, isn't that enough?" Malone urged—after all, they had barely played for any time at all!

"I think so too. How about we call it a day? I have to go have dinner with my family tonight. There are some elders I need to meet, and I have to prepare in advance," another classmate added.

"Don't do this, man. It's rare for me to have a day off, you guys..."

Before Malone could finish, he was interrupted by a voice over the channel: "Brother Long, sorry, I'm logging off. My wife is about to pull the internet cable! Hey, hey, hey, honey, don't be impulsive, I'm logging off, I'm..."

With a soft "click," Malone knew the voice software was notifying him: "A friend has logged off."

"So... Brother Long, I'm heading out too?" the remaining classmate asked tentatively.

"Yeah, go ahead, go ahead. Since Han is gone, the two of us can't really play anyway. Let's call it, let's call it. Since none of you want to play with me, I'm going to go kill some low-level players." As he spoke, Malone left the Arena team, took off his headset, and exited the now-empty voice channel.

Passing through several portals and summoning his mount, Malone pressed the "auto-run" button, steering his character toward a place called Stranglethorn Vale.

Stranglethorn Vale was always the best place for leveling at that tier because the monsters were numerous and dense, and the quest experience was both abundant and concentrated.

When Malone said he was going to "kill low-level players," he meant bullying those whose levels were far below his own. Some of these players were newcomers just entering the world, while others were new characters leveled by veterans who had played for years like himself. But they all shared one thing in common: in front of Malone, who had been at the level cap for a long time and was decked out in top-tier gear for player-versus-player combat, they were all just one-shot kills.

World of Warcraft, an evergreen that had thrived for over a decade, still had many loyal fans, but compared to its peak, the numbers were naturally much lower.

Malone flew through the sky, searching for a long time before finally finding an opposing faction Hunter struggling against a few wild leopards.

He moved his mouse over to check the target's stat panel—Level 30—a number that surprised Malone slightly.

"Looks like a veteran. He plays the Hunter well; to be able to kite this many leopards at this level..." Malone muttered to himself in front of the computer, shaking his head. He landed beside the Hunter and, before the player could react, struck with a swift blow. Moments later, only a grave remained on the ground.

This was just a small fragment of his afternoon and evening. Malone spent several hours in Stranglethorn Vale killing low-level players until he felt drowsy, at which point he grabbed a quick, messy meal and went to bed.

"Yawn~" Malone crawled under his covers, tossed his alarm clock—set for the next morning—onto the bedside table, and muttered, "Time to sleep. Back to work tomorrow..."