Are Your Dungeons Even for Humans?
Chapter 17

Roleplay Instance Goes Live

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22d ago•

Lu Xiu finished the remaining steamed egg custard, wiped her hands, and ran over to sit on the sofa, ready to properly study how to put her instance online.

Since all the prerequisites had been met, Lu Xiu thought putting the instance online should have been simple.

But in reality, getting it properly online... involved quite a few steps.

"Public? Designated? What do those mean?"

"Can a Roleplay Instance use forgetting as a clearance condition?"

"Can I also designate an offline location for the instance and its entrance?"

"..."

Lu Xiu looked at the documentation that had popped up on the instance launch page. Her head hurt a little, but she still patiently read through it.

In fact.

Even the final step of launching an instance involved quite a few things to consider. First of all, private instances were unlike system instances... Though some system instances had entry requirements, they generally did not play favorites.

Private instances, however, could be non-public. In other words, only designated players could enter them.

That was a designated instance.

Additionally, since the [Resident Evil] instance Lu Xiu had created was a pure Roleplay Instance, the system would alter it as much as possible without deviating from its original flow, ensuring the players' experience.

But overall, the instance flow was locked down. No matter how it changed, those changes were limited.

That meant that if someone cleared the instance and selflessly shared a strategy guide, then as long as players had decent nerves, they could all clear the [Resident Evil] instance.

That clearly did not serve a Dungeon Architect's interests.

Therefore, for Roleplay Instances with limited variation, Dungeon Architects could add "forget all key contents of the instance" as a clearance restriction, ensuring that everyone entering the instance experienced it for the first time.

This could effectively preserve an instance's uniqueness.

Finally.

As for designating an offline location for the instance and its entrance, that was even simpler. It meant choosing a real-world location to place the instance and entrance... The area where the instance was placed seemed to undergo a certain degree of mutation, and the final clearance rewards would also be better.

This was also how many system instances worked. Basically, the entrances to high-difficulty system instances were all offline.

However, after designating an offline entrance, the number of slots for entering the instance online each day... would be restricted.

So Lu Xiu directly rejected the idea of placing [Resident Evil] offline. As for whether to make it a designated instance, that was even easier to decide... Lu Xiu did not even have a single friend, so it could only be a public instance.

What troubled her was whether to add "forget all key contents of the instance" as a clearance restriction.

She stared at that option for a long time, her finger hovering over the screen without pressing it.

Honestly, Lu Xiu did want to add that restriction.

After all, if someone wrote up the entire process as a guide, then clearing the instance would become no different from memorizing the answers.

The more she thought about it, the more annoyed Lu Xiu became. Her spiteful thoughts grew like wild grass.

I got drenched in the rain when I cleared it, and you people still want to hold umbrellas? Dream on...

I'm definitely tearing up all your umbrellas...

But considering this was her first instance, and that she had launched it on loan, using Survival Points borrowed from the authorities...

Lu Xiu was genuinely afraid that once the instance went online, people would see the clearance-forgetting condition and think her instance was just like all those other private instances... the same sort of thing. They might not dare enter it.

After all, she had heard that quite a few private instances really did use this to scam people. Some Architects even specialized in fleecing players through this mechanism.

Though Lu Xiu had no such intention, other people did not know that. If the instance went online and failed to earn back even the borrowed Survival Points, that would be far too embarrassing.

"Forget it."

Lu Xiu pondered for a moment, then gently shook her head.

Her long black hair was loosely tied into a ponytail. When she moved, several loose strands slipped down beside her ears and fell against her cheeks.

She tucked the stray strands behind her ear, then removed "forget all key contents of the instance" as a clearance restriction.

Very soon.

Lu Xiu filled out all the information and formally submitted the instance launch application.

[Instance information submitted]

[The system is conducting a final structural scan...]

Lu Xiu leaned back against the chair and waited patiently.

A few seconds later.

A new notification appeared.

[Detected that this instance is a fixed-flow Roleplay Instance]

[For Roleplay Instances, the first clearance grants full rewards. Rewards for subsequent clearances will gradually decrease, and no rewards will be granted after the third clearance.]

[Detected a clear optimal solution within the instance flow]

[If players obtain complete instance information, the estimated clearance rate will rise significantly]

[Detected that the instance has not enabled the "clearance memory erasure mechanism"]

[To ensure the instance's long-term fairness, the system will automatically apply "fuzzification processing" to players' clearance memories]

[Processing details are as follows:]

[After clearing the instance, players will generally retain their memories of the clearance]

[However, specific key procedures, event triggers, puzzle-solving details, and similar information will automatically be blurred]

[This mechanism will not affect the player's personal experience. It is used only to maintain fairness in the instance's challenge.]

[...]

"Well, this isn't my fault anymore."

Lu Xiu looked at the latest notification and laughed.

It seemed that for Roleplay Instances with an optimal solution, even if the Architect did not add restrictions, the system would still take measures for the sake of fairness.

And just then.

The final system notification popped up.

[Instance evaluation complete]

[Go live?]

Lu Xiu casually pressed confirm.

After the world became gamified and digitized, many people had been forced to change how they lived.

Everyone went through a painful process of accepting reality.

But Lu Xiu did not have that problem, because she was an outsider and had the original owner's memories to help her.

That allowed her to skip the painful adjustment period altogether... Of course, the period of physical adjustment did not count.

But that was not entirely a good thing. There were downsides too.

For example.

Before transmigrating, Lu Xiu had already grown accustomed to the relentless bombardment of the short-video era. So she had never realized that in this digitized world, there was an entry in everyone's system interface that was almost impossible to overlook.

That was the forum portal.

It was a communication community built into the system, with every country operating independently.

The domestic forum had a simple structure. At the top were several permanent sections, such as the domestic instance section, overseas instance section, trading section, intelligence section, and so on.

There was also one area that was always lively—the general chat section.

Every day, countless posts appeared there.

Some people had just emerged from an instance and immediately made a post to complain.

Some shared the items they had just bought.

Some were simply bored and came to chat.

And among all topics, instance-related intelligence always drew the most attention.

After all, instances were now the most important resource in the world.

A new instance appearing, a new mechanic emerging, a newly cleared high-rated instance... all of it would spark considerable discussion on the forum.

At this moment.

The system forum's general chat section was as lively as ever, with new posts constantly appearing.

All kinds of information mixed together, and new discussions popped up almost every few seconds.

[Chen Capital coordinates: Is the Coordination Bureau preparing to open the offline S-rank instance in the West City New District?]

[Has anyone entered the A-rank instance [Ashen Station]? How exactly does that broadcast mechanic trigger?]

[Has anyone counted the number of newly generated system instances over the past month? It feels like there are noticeably more.]

[Does the second floor of the B-rank instance [Deep Sea Storage Tank] have an unavoidable death mechanic? Looking for confirmation!]

[Is it true that someone has been selling A-rank instance items in the trading section lately? The prices are ridiculous!]

These posts were constantly bumped upward, only to be quickly pushed down by newer posts.

Some people discussed instance mechanics.

Some analyzed the Coordination Bureau's recent movements.

Others specifically counted newly appeared instance entrances across different regions. The whole forum was like an enormous intelligence market.

All kinds of information flowed through it without end.

And among all the posts, the hottest one stood head and shoulders above the rest, hanging at the very top of the forum.

Its view count had already surpassed one million, and its title was simple—[S-rank Instance Mist City Corridor—Cleared!]

The poster was a fairly famous forum ID.

Zhao Heng.

Beside his ID was a conspicuous verification tag: [Longsword Guild Core Member].

Zhao Heng was the kind of star-level expert player on the forum. Not only was he powerful, but his personality was also flamboyant enough. He liked personally jumping into conversations with ordinary players and shooting the breeze. One had to know that players capable of clearing high-difficulty instances generally carried themselves with great reserve and rarely appeared on the forums.

And every era, every world, had its own heavenly palace.

This game world was no exception. To most ordinary people still struggling through C-rank instances, Zhao Heng was that "heavenly palace."

So it was not surprising in the slightest that he was popular.

The post Zhao Heng made was not long, but its wording was extremely high-profile.

[I've cleared the S-rank instance Mist City Corridor. I've figured out the mechanics. Honestly, S-rank instances are much less difficult than I expected. You could even call them easy. When I have time, I'll organize a complete guide. Anyone interested can join the Longsword Guild.]

Below the post, huge numbers of players flooded in to offer congratulations.

"Holy shit, it was really cleared?"

"An S-rank instance!"

"Brother Zhao is insane!"

"Another domestic S-rank clearance record."

"This is ridiculously impressive."

Of course.

A place like the forum was never short on sarcastic people.

Very soon.

Another kind of voice emerged.

However.

Those replies were quickly drowned out by even more discussion.

After all—

Clearing an S-rank instance was itself more than enough to prove one's strength.

And Zhao Heng seemed to enjoy the attention. He even added another line to the post: "S-rank instances are indeed a bit more complicated, but they're nowhere near as exaggerated as everyone imagines. They're honestly pretty easy. S-rank instances can't challenge me anymore. Next, I'll be taking on an SS-rank instance. Wait for my good news."

The moment those words appeared, the post was once again filled with cries of "Brother Zhao is insane."

Though Zhao Heng made it sound casual, World Gamification had already been going on for four years. Everyone knew what an S-rank instance represented.

That was a top-tier instance.

Perhaps it was nothing to a Strategy Group, or to Zhao Heng.

But the vast majority of ordinary people had yet to clear even a single A-rank instance.

Let alone an S-rank one.

And while everyone was still chatting.

A new post quietly appeared on the forum.

Its title was utterly ordinary.

[Did anyone else see this while refreshing the instance database?]

At first.

Almost no one clicked into it.

But soon, bored people arrived, and they saw what the original poster had written—I was refreshing the list in the instance database just now, and I think I saw a private instance rated S-rank.

The post went silent for several seconds.

Then someone replied.

"You saw wrong."

"How could a private instance be S-rank?"

"It must've been a system instance."

"..."

Every reply said the original poster had seen it wrong.

But the original poster quickly replied again, insisting that it was not a system instance. It was called [Resident Evil], and the Architect's name was clearly written above it.

After the original poster sent that message.

Someone finally took it seriously.

"Where's the screenshot?"

"No screenshot, no proof."

The original poster disappeared. Just as everyone else thought the poster was fishing for reactions.

A minute later.

The original poster reappeared.

This time,

he posted a screenshot.

In the screenshot,

the dungeon's basic information was clearly listed—

[Dungeon Name: Resident Evil] [Dungeon Rating: S] [Dungeon Type: Horror/Survival/Puzzle] [Architect: Lu Xiu]

Less than ten minutes after the screenshot was posted,

...the thread exploded!

"???"

"Wait."

"Is this real?"

"An S-rank civilian dungeon?"

"Bro, you edited this image, right?"

"I just checked the dungeon database..."

"It really does seem to be there."

The next second,

a new reply appeared—"Holy shit?????"

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