Strategies Are Not Scrap Paper

Strategies Are Not Scrap Paper

The first strategy guide to draw a crowd was for the White-Clothed Scholar. Three pages. The first covered the opening moves. The second described the terrain by the water. The third contained Tang San's review of the deaths. At the bottom was an added line from the Grandmaster: If you only remember the moves but not your own positioning, this strategy is invalid. The line was written heavily enough to give Ma Hongjun a headache just looking at it.

"Grandmaster, isn't a strategy supposed to tell us how to fight?"

The Grandmaster looked at him.

"If it tells you the White-Clothed Scholar will sweep sideways, but you stand right in front of it without moving, is that useful?"

Ma Hongjun blinked.

"Of course not."

"So first, remember where you should stand."

The Grandmaster pushed the paper toward him.

"Many people don't die because they don't know what move the enemy will use. They die because they stand in the wrong place."

Ma Hongjun lowered his head and stared at the paper. After a long while, he managed to squeeze out a sentence.

"This game is more exhausting than class."

Xiao Wu laughed beside him.

"You've never been this serious in class, either."

Ma Hongjun had no comeback. After an Elephant Armor Academy student finished reading, he scratched his head.

"It's just a game. Do you really need to write it in this much detail?"

The Spirit Hall deacon beside him frowned as well.

"Who would have time to look at paper in an actual fight?"

Ning Fengzhi did not argue.

Neither did the Grandmaster.

Lin Chuan did not call out to advertise it, either. The papers simply sat beside the counter. Anyone who wanted to read them could. Just don't damage them. The first person to silence them was a young Soul Master stuck near the beginning of the old road. His Soul Power was not high. He was no genius, either. He had died seven times, every time to the same ambush in the grass. His name was Zhou Ping, a student from a small academy in Spirit City. Usually, he was unremarkable even within his team. Others came to the Grand Dao Internet Cafe to see how Tang San cleared the White-Clothed Scholar, how Hu Liena's movement techniques changed, or how Yan controlled his fire.

Zhou Ping did not have so many thoughts. He just wanted to get past that patch of grass. Seven times. Every time, one creature pounced from the left while another dropped down from the slope on the right. He could dodge the first one. But when the second arrived, he panicked. Once he panicked, he died. By the seventh death, even he was too embarrassed to get back on. Yet he could not bear to leave. He had spent money, but had not made it through the road. It left him feeling stifled.

He stood before the strategy guide for a long time, muttering under his breath.

"Three sounds from the left grass, loose stones on the right slope... retreat to the right tree first, don't counterattack, wait for the second one to come down..."

Someone laughed at him for memorizing it like a textbook. He returned to his seat. The screen lit up, and someone beside him muttered.

"He's going again?"

"He thinks he can clear it just by memorizing those sheets of paper?"

"I bet he'll still die there."

Zhou Ping heard them.

His ears reddened slightly. But he did not turn around. He repeated the few lines from the guide in his mind. Don't counterattack. Stick to the right tree. Wait for the second one. Roll. The words sounded pathetic, but pathetic was better than dying where he stood. On the first attack, he dodged awkwardly and nearly had his face clawed by a Little Demon. But he did not wildly swing his staff as he had on previous attempts. He pressed against the right tree. Waited. The second Little Demon leaped down from the slope, and the two Little Demons crowded together.

He rolled through the gap between them. His health bar dropped by a chunk. But he was alive. The shop grew quieter. Even the young Soul Master himself froze for a moment. Then he took off running. He advanced another dozen or so steps and even followed the guide to avoid the next Little Demon's first strike. He still died in the end. But before the screen went black, he saw the old road stele ahead. In the previous seven attempts, he had not even touched its shadow.

When he removed the Synchronized Headband, his eyes were frighteningly red.

"I got through."

It was only a patch of grass. But it was the patch of grass he had failed to pass after dying seven times. Someone wanted to say, "You still didn't clear the game." But the words stopped at their lips. Because Zhou Ping was still smiling. It was not the smile of someone who had won a grand prize. It was the smile of someone finally letting out the breath that had been lodged in his chest. He looked toward the three sheets by the counter, then gave the Grandmaster and Tang San a deep bow.

"Thank you."

Tang San was somewhat surprised and quickly stepped aside.

"You don't need to thank me. You made it through yourself."

Zhou Ping shook his head.

"Without these papers, I'd still be dying in the same place."

The moment he said that, the faces of those who had laughed at him for memorizing went hot. The Elephant Armor Academy student silently edged half a step closer to the guides. Stubborn pride was useless. The screen kept score. The Grandmaster turned to Tang San.

"Organize the Cooperative Advance Forked Path as well."

Tang San nodded.

He had two pieces of Rewind Incense Ash left. They could not be brought into reality, nor would they grant him another soul skill. But they could break down failures within the game. Tang San did not hesitate to use them. Cooperative Advance was not just his own affair. The incense ash ignited. The spectator screen returned to yesterday's fork in the road. A faint gray smoke drifted along the edge of the display. Many people in the shop were seeing Rewind Incense Ash up close for the first time. Someone could not help asking:

"Can this be used for someone else?"

Tang San shook his head.

"It can only be used to review my save file."

"That's still impressive."

"It is impressive."

Ma Hongjun stared at the wisp of gray smoke and could not help feeling pained.

"Third Brother, there are only two pieces left, right?"

Tang San nodded.

"Every piece used is one less."

"Then why are you using one?"

Tang San looked at the flickering Incense Lamp on the screen.

"If Cooperative Advance can't get through, keeping it is just keeping it."

Ma Hongjun fell silent. He was usually glib, but he understood the weight of Tang San's words. This was not a reward for just one person. It was only worthwhile when used for the team. The Incense Lamp swayed behind Ning Rongrong. The wind was stronger on the left, while the grass on the right moved first. During the first replay, Tang San watched the monsters. During the second, the Grandmaster watched their positions. During the third, Ning Fengzhi watched only the lamp.

"Stop."

The image slowed. The Incense Lamp had indeed dimmed for a moment. Its flame tilted behind Tang San. Ning Fengzhi said, "The rear was exposed." Ning Rongrong froze. At that time, Xiao Wu had chased toward the left, Ma Hongjun had been drawn to the right, and Tang San had held the front. Only she remained in the rear. She had thought she was holding her position. Yet the Incense Lamp had already warned them that the team formation had broken. Ning Rongrong's face turned red. Not from embarrassment, but from lingering fear. If that moment had not been in a game but on a true battlefield, her back would have been exposed. She had thought herself safe.

But all the enemy had to do was circle around from behind, and she might not even have had time to call for help. Xiao Wu patted her shoulder.

"Next time, I won't chase that far."

Ma Hongjun scratched his head as well.

"I won't keep looking to the right, either."

Tang San shook his head.

"It wasn't any one person's fault."

He pointed at the replay screen.

"The formation broke. All four of us had problems."

When he said that, Ning Rongrong felt somewhat relieved instead. He was not shifting the blame onto her. He was counting her as part of the team. Tang San said softly, "So protecting the lamp doesn't just mean protecting this lamp." The Grandmaster immediately wrote down a new title. Cooperative Advance: Protect the Lamp: The lamp does not dim only because of wind. As soon as he finished writing the line, someone nearby asked:

"Grandmaster, can we read this one?"

"Can we copy it?"

"How much would it cost to copy one?"

The shop fell silent for a moment. For the first time, the word strategy was placed beside money. Zhou Ping was the first to speak.

"If we can copy it, I'm willing to pay."

Everyone looked at him.

Zhou Ping's face was still a little red, but he gritted his teeth and said:

"The distance I got farther just now was worth it."

A low-level Soul Master did not have much money. But when he said it was worth it, no one could doubt his sincerity. The Elephant Armor Academy student rubbed his nose.

"Then, can the White-Clothed Scholar's guide be sold too?"

The low-level Spirit Hall deacon also looked toward Lin Chuan.

"Does the shop handle this?"

Lin Chuan looked up.

With so many people staring at him, he knew he had to establish the rules today. Lin Chuan looked up. What was coming had come. He glanced at Zhou Ping, then at Tang San and the Grandmaster. If only geniuses wrote strategy guides, then sooner or later, they would become exchanges between geniuses. But if people like Zhou Ping wanted to write them too, things would be different.

Low-level Soul Masters died often, but their deaths were not necessarily without value. Some paths could be cleared by a genius in one try, so they might not even remember where people were most likely to stumble. Records made through ordinary people's deaths might be more useful to ordinary people. Lin Chuan tapped the counter.

"Let me make this clear first. The shop recognizes usefulness, not status."

As soon as those words fell, Zhou Ping's eyes shone brighter. Tang San also glanced at Lin Chuan. Recognize usefulness, not status. It sounded like business. But for someone like Zhou Ping, it was almost like being pulled down from the spectators' seats. He was no longer merely someone who watched geniuses clear stages. He could leave something behind as well. Even if it was only a clumsy method, it might save another clumsy person.