Building Societies

What happened within the Coordination Bureau and the Longsword Guild was not an isolated case.

All the major guilds, as well as those miscellaneous societies, had run into the same problem.

[Resident Evil] was simply too troublesome a dungeon... they had no way of putting together a detailed guide.

The terrifying atmosphere, immense psychological pressure, all kinds of unavoidable injuries during combat, complicated puzzles, mechanic-heavy bosses...

With all those factors combined, along with the memory-fading mechanic, achieving a high clear rate was truly difficult. Even the Coordination Bureau had a massive headache over it, let alone them.

Although system dungeons could be relatively self-contained, one like [Resident Evil], which was practically designed like an entirely new game with its own independent systems, was exceedingly rare.

Ordinary players were not having an easy time clearing it either.

Everyone coveted the rewards from [Resident Evil]. There were indeed lucky people... or rather, talented and determined players who cleared it, but most people regretted entering almost as soon as they stepped inside.

After all, everyone had different levels of tolerance for horrifying scenes and different capacities for handling pressure.

The forum was still filled with wails of despair.

But after a week passed, the forum's complaints about the dungeon and crusade against Lu Xiu had turned into demands for a guide.

"Lu Xiu, Lu Xiu, I don't know what you look like, but I like you! So can you give me a guide? Or at least tell me in detail about the dungeon you built."

"You make it sound like having a guide means you can clear it. That dungeon is so damn hellish—even with a guide, you might not make it to the ending."

"The problem is, without a guide, I can't even see any hope of reaching the ending..."

"True... You'll understand once you've tried it."

"Someone else just cleared it... Looks like they immediately joined the Whistling Arrow Guild. They really shot straight to the top."

"Those major guilds are practically going insane. Who wouldn't want rewards that lavish?"

"Jealous."

"I'm really curious which guild this builder will ultimately join."

"..."

The forum's clamor was quietly cut short.

The scene shifted.

Online, within a private building space.

Wooden beams intersected overhead in arches. The air carried the mixed scent of old wood and engine oil. Massive gears turned slowly above, occasionally letting out dull grinding noises. Following those gears as they rotated with an orderly beauty, one could vaguely make out a corner of the clock face outside.

This seemed to be the attic inside a clock tower.

At that moment, the setting sun poured in through stained-glass windows, fractured into patches of brilliant light and shadow that fell across the long, narrow wooden table in the center of the attic.

Six high-backed chairs.

Six figures whose faces had been deliberately blurred.

A light screen floated above the center of the table, the forum discussion continuously scrolling across it.

Meanwhile, the sound of the second hand ticked on without pause like a background beat.

"I'm curious. Could she really be the builder from one of our societies? If so, stop hiding it. Good fortune should be shared."

Among the six, someone spoke with a laugh. "The Coordination Bureau is looking for her, the guilds are looking for her, the players are looking for her—everyone is looking for her."

"Idiot."

A figure who appeared to be female based on her silhouette spoke coldly. "If we really had someone like that among us, players wouldn't be cursing us out every day as some fucking dungeon-building society. And I wouldn't have to sit here playing mysterious games with a bunch of idiots like you. Can't you say something meaningful?"

Then she swept her gaze around the room.

"Also, what kind of shithole is this?"

The first person to speak stiffened, seemingly unable to stand this colleague's bluntness. He shot her a vicious glare.

But she clearly did not care in the slightest.

"Idiot," she added.

That was right.

These people were the rats in the gutter Yan Fushou had mentioned—the leaders of dungeon-building societies with reputations so rotten they stank.

They were among the first people to try building dungeons, and also among the first to establish dungeon-building societies.

When the world had just become gamified, everyone had been focused on player-side gameplay.

Yet they had chosen to build dungeons instead.

Players now cursed them in every imaginable way, and the authorities kept a close eye on them, but neither could change one fact—in the two-year gap before the Coordination Bureau was established, they had already made a fortune.

It could be said that aside from the Coordination Bureau, they possessed the most Survival Points in the country.

After all, who could have imagined that player-made dungeons would have so many different ways to screw people over?

And when the world had first become gamified, the atmosphere had been extreme. Most people, relying on the tens of thousands of Survival Points they had, dared to try anything.

That allowed these dungeon-building societies to expand rapidly.

They became builders and founded dungeon-building societies. At first, perhaps they truly had wanted to make interesting dungeons. But once they discovered that, compared to painstakingly making dungeons, they could earn hundreds of thousands or even millions of Survival Points just by throwing something together, their mindset completely changed.

They began recruiting, began hiding themselves, and went further and further down the road of screwing people over.

Combined with the Builder-side exclusive rewards...

They eventually became the damn Builder guild everyone talked about.

But that still did not stop them from raking in money hand over fist. They remained the paradise every Builder dreamed of joining.

That was right.

Before the Coordination Bureau was established, before the [Builder Special Fund] was introduced, they had been the paradise every Builder dreamed of joining. Back then, if you joined a Builder guild and made any dungeon that was even remotely passable, they would help advertise it—and the ads would be placed on the system homepage.

They even gave you fifty percent of the ticket revenue!

Fifty percent!

Those terms were practically the same as handing out money for free. Who would not want to join?

Making money, going with the flow.

Nothing shameful about that.

And this further expanded their scale. They had practically divided up all the talented Builders in the country. Though the civilian dungeons they released to the public were still overpriced garbage designed to fleece players.

Within their ranks, however, there were already quite a few Builders capable of properly creating A-rank imitation dungeons.

It could be said that they understood the Builder profession better than anyone.

After all, they had nearly monopolized civilian dungeons for the past two years. No matter how terrible a dungeon was, people would still play it once it was released.

They had always believed that their guild would be the first to create an S-rank civilian dungeon.

Then... then the [Resident Evil] dungeon had appeared out of nowhere.

Damn it! And it was an original dungeon!

That dungeon had dealt them an enormous blow.

Not because of their reputation, nor because it hindered their profits.

It was because... they had lost their right to monopolize the future.

"Enough."

The person at the head of the long table lightly tapped the tabletop, cutting off the argument. "We all know that the Builder named Lu Xiu cannot possibly be one of us. That is not what we gathered here to discuss today. Although outsiders call our dungeons garbage, thanks to our monopoly over the last two years and our massive player base, I forcibly piled my Builder level up to Level 15. You have all seen the newly unlocked functions. You should understand what an original dungeon like this means—and what it means for a Builder capable of creating original dungeons to reach Level 15.

"Even putting all that aside, the profits from [Resident Evil] alone are enough to tempt anyone. Do you not want a Builder like that to join us? Do you intend to hide in the shadows for the rest of your lives?"

"..."

At those words, the five people around the table fell silent.

After a moment, someone spoke. "Also, she should have received the reward for being the first to create an S-rank dungeon... And there are still SS and SSS ranks beyond that. A Builder like her might even be able to create dungeons of even higher ratings and claim all the rewards."

"Exactly."

The person at the head of the table nodded. "That is why a Builder like her cannot fall into the Coordination Bureau's hands, nor can she be snatched away by the guilds..."

The woman who had been cursing earlier spoke coldly. "You do not need to spout that bullshit! The question now is how we find her. You were the one who made me take down the bounty on the forum, saying we should not provoke the Coordination Bureau. This is not two years ago anymore. And now you are saying all this—does it mean anything?"

"Of course it does. Because your method truly had no purpose beyond provoking the Coordination Bureau. I have an idea. That is why I called you all here."

The person seated at the head of the long table leaned forward slightly. "Have you considered this? A Builder with no previous works—before she started creating dungeons, aside from system dungeons, could she have played civilian dungeons? Could she have considered joining a Builder guild?"

The woman froze. "You mean..."

"No matter how talented someone is, they cannot grow overnight. Before becoming a Builder, she must have been a player. Before creating an S-rank original dungeon, she must have encountered dungeons. We cannot investigate system dungeons."

"But we can investigate the civilian dungeons made by the Builders under us."

"If she wanted to become a Builder, she could not possibly have never tried even a single civilian dungeon. Even if civilian dungeons had a bad reputation, even if she tried them with a critical mindset, she would have given one a try at some point."

"After clearing one, she might have arrogantly cursed it as garbage."

"But she definitely visited civilian dungeons. Perhaps... she might even have been fleeced by one of our dungeons."

"And as long as she entered a civilian dungeon even once, she would have left traces in the backend records—her numerical ID."

"Though we cannot pinpoint her precisely, after the Coordination Bureau was established... our dungeon ads have been distributed by region."