Game of Power

The call turned out to be from Black Shadow.

Black Shadow was the Gnome rogue who had been working with Mo Fei to fence equipment. They were old acquaintances and had often worked together even before Skyworld came out.

This time, there was no need to ask; he had definitely set his sights on the batch of equipment in Mo Fei's hands.

"Brother Dragon, you there?"

"Yeah. What do you need?"

"You selling that batch of equipment?"

"Of course I'm selling it. Same rules as before: I'll put it in the chest in the dungeon's hidden room, and the monsters' patrol routes haven't changed. We split the profits ninety-ten after everything's sold. There are quite a few purple items this time, so we should make a killing. But forget about those two quest items. I'm keeping them for myself."

"Come on, someone wants to pay 1.5 million for the Dragon-Slaying Greatsword and 1 million for the Flame Lord's Scepter. This is big business. Think about it."

Mo Fei thought, Two quest items for 2.5 million? Damn it, does he take me for a complete idiot?

Besides, they even knew the weapons' names. They were clearly insiders—maybe those two unlucky hero players.

"Tell him to get lost. From now on, don't even respond to offers under five million."

These were quest items. Their greatest advantage was that they could be replicated.

As long as he added the two weapons to his loot pool, there would be a chance of identical equipment dropping whenever he was defeated by adventurers in the future. The knockoff versions would naturally be much weaker than the originals, but they would still be legendary weapons.

For boss players, the most profitable strategy in this game was not killing adventurers for loot. It was selling dungeon keys and throwing matches. Once adventurers bought a key, the boss would go easy on them and let them clear the dungeon. The profits from keys alone could be enormous.

Of course, the loot had to be good. If adventurers cleared your dungeon once and only got a pile of blue and green items, they certainly would not be happy. Keys to trash bosses did not sell for much.

As a dignified World Tier boss with a 15% legendary equipment drop rate, once he added those quest weapons to his pool, his dungeon would become incredibly sought-after. Selling keys for a hundred thousand each would not be expensive, right?

As long as it was not a scripted death, he could revive no matter how many times he died. Each death consumed quite a few loot points, but that was still negligible compared to the income. Besides, drops generated from quest weapons only consumed 50% of the loot points.

That would save him another chunk of money.

Once he quit streaming, he could still make plenty every year just by selling dungeon keys.

Mo Fei was happily imagining it, and the disappointment caused by the gap between reality and his expectations immediately eased considerably.

Then, to his surprise, the supervisor suddenly appeared in the corridor ahead.

"Mo Fei, come here for a moment. There's something I need to discuss with you."

Mo Fei sighed, but still followed him.

The two entered the supervisor's office. The supervisor did not waste words and went straight to the point.

"Have you considered what I told you last time about renewing your contract?"

"Sorry, but I've been a little tired lately. After my contract ends, I plan to take a break first."

"You won't reconsider? With your current popularity, your terms would definitely improve significantly if you renewed."

"No. Thank you for the offer, but I really am tired."

Mo Fei refused again. He had expected the supervisor to fly into a rage, or perhaps put on airs and lecture him as an elder, threatening and coaxing him into renewing. Mo Fei had practically thought up the lines for every possible scenario.

Yet the supervisor merely nodded lightly. "I see. Well, forget it, then. We have to respect our employees' wishes, after all. Go on back and get some rest."

Holy shit, that was it?

Mo Fei faintly sensed that something was wrong. How could they possibly let him go so easily?

Had he been overthinking it? Was he actually not that valuable?

No, that could not be it. He was still the top streamer in the Monster District, and he had just advanced to become a World Tier boss. With Skyworld being this popular right now, how could the supervisor simply let it go?

Did he not want performance figures anymore? There had to be something fishy going on.

He was full of doubt, but the supervisor looked at him in surprise. "What? Is there anything else?"

"No, nothing. I'll be going then, Supervisor."

"Go on, go on." The supervisor waved him away.

Mo Fei turned and left.

On the way home, he was still worried about it. Unfortunately, as the contracted party, there was almost nothing he could do. All he could do was stay alert, avoid giving anyone leverage over him, and be as careful as possible.

Over the next few days, the supervisor showed no sign of causing Mo Fei trouble.

Though Mo Fei remained uneasy, life still had to go on.

So he kept streaming at night and sometimes stayed in the game during the day. At the same time, he hurried to sell off that batch of equipment, bringing in another hundred thousand or so.

His earnings from streaming Skyworld over this past year were ten times what he had made in the previous four years. Between donations and in-game income, he had earned a full two to three million. It was nowhere near the value of his account, but watching the number steadily rise was still exhilarating.

He remained in the Obsidian Sanctum, waiting to attend the Black Dragonlord Council. Once the meeting began, he intended to build some connections and engage in a little personnel maneuvering, recruiting more subordinates to bring back to the Dark Dragon Nest. At the very least, he needed to give his hundred-player dungeon a respectable lineup.

This time, Mo Fei did not intend to keep fighting adventurers head-on. His character build was already complete, so there was little point in farming adventurers anymore. He might as well sell dungeon keys for money.

The first few bosses therefore did not need to be too powerful. They only needed to look convincing.

As for hero raids, Mo Fei was no longer too worried. With his strength as a World Tier boss, only Epic Tier heroes were qualified to challenge him. So far, there did not seem to be any Epic Tier heroes among the players.

As for NPCs, he was not too concerned about them either. Those prominent NPC heroes were generally bound by system storylines and would not wander around casually. If they really came for him, there would inevitably be related in-game events and released quests. The commotion would definitely be huge, and he could prepare in advance.

Still, to be safe, Mo Fei planned to recruit more Black Dragon hatchlings as patrol soldiers. They would patrol around the dungeon twenty-four hours a day, ensuring he had advance warning before any hero players showed up.

If a group of Epic Tier heroes really came after him, he could always run away in advance.

After several days of waiting, the Black Dragon Lords had finally all arrived.

The Black Dragonlord Council finally began. It was hosted by the Primordial Black Dragon Sartharion—Neltharion's brother.

This veteran of the Black Dragon Legion was little known to the world because he had guarded the Obsidian Sanctum year-round. His fame was on an entirely different level from Neltharion's. Rumor had it that he had been injured during the War of the Ancients, affecting his strength, but he was still a Primordial Dragon. Even weakened, he could not possibly be that weak.

The matters discussed at the meeting were the same as always.

First, everyone spent a while bragging about which heroes they had killed over the past year, which towns they had destroyed, and what schemes they had plotted.

Then they began crying poverty, talking about how many servants they had lost, how many offspring had been slain, and how much support in resources and troops they needed from the Black Dragon Legion.

Finally came the most important topic: how they would display the might and terror of the Black Dragon Legion to the world in the coming year, which faction they would go to war with, which city they would unleash a Dragon Calamity upon, and so on.

Mo Fei barely spoke throughout the meeting. Aside from putting on quite a performance during the poverty-crying phase, he mostly kept quiet. He truly was in miserable shape right now: all his boss subordinates had been wiped out, and nearly all his lesser monsters were dead. Deaths in story battles were real deaths. By comparison, some luckier Black Dragon Lords had only dealt with adventurers throughout the year. Aside from property losses, they had suffered almost no substantial weakening.

But because he had killed two Gold Tier heroes, his record was still quite impressive.

As a result, he successfully received a huge shipment of subordinates from the Black Dragon Legion: several hundred Dragonkin, dozens of Black Dragon hatchlings, and even two young Black Dragons. Individually, they were not impressive enough to serve as bosses in a hundred-player dungeon, but put together as twin bosses, they could put up a fight.

They also sent him a dozen Dragon Worship Cult priests, though unfortunately none of them were boss-tier.

Two Dragonman Warlords arrived as well, barely filling the remaining two boss slots. The only concern was whether making players fight two Dragonman Warlords in a row would feel too repetitive.

Mo Fei even received a batch of dragon eggs.

Those were hard currency. Whether magically transformed into Dragonkin or catalyzed into hatchlings, they made excellent combat forces.

With enough patience, he could also raise them from wyrmlings. Their growth would be slow, but once they matured, they would gain the true power of Dragonkind.

Mo Fei guessed that his request for aid had gone so smoothly mainly because of his identity as an Ancient Black Dragon. The Black Dragon Legion judged its investments by the dragon, and the strength of an Ancient Black Dragon was precisely where the investment value lay.

Of course, those resources were not free. If the Legion assigned missions in the future—such as ravaging a kingdom or assassinating a hero—he would have to contribute as well.

After getting what he wanted, Mo Fei did not speak much more.

He had no interest in monster sieges. Given his current strength, if a real battle broke out, the heroes in the story campaign would definitely focus on him. Besides, as a first-rank World Tier boss, the story points needed to advance his rank were astronomical. Even if he joined a story battle, farming that tiny amount of story points would be meaningless.

And there was always the possibility of getting killed. He was not that stupid.

After fighting for so long, it was time to enjoy himself.

The Black Dragon Lords were not fools either. Every last one was crafty, and no one volunteered to take the lead in starting a Dragon Calamity. With Deathwing absent, none of them had any confidence that they could retreat unscathed. Taking the lead in a Charge was absolutely out of the question; following behind to scavenge benefits, on the other hand, was acceptable.

Thus, after several days of meetings, every dragon was scheming and chatting nonsense, but not a single one was willing to take responsibility.

Sartharion could only lament that dragon hearts had scattered and the team was impossible to lead.

Every day, Mo Fei had to scheme against a group of Black Dragon Lords who had lived for thousands or even tens of thousands of years. He also had to perform political acumen and the bearing of a powerhouse for his viewers. It felt more exhausting than fighting story battles.

Fortunately, he still had Onyxia to share some tenderness with. It was at least a little comfort amid the hardship.

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