The player "Cultivation Without All-Nighters" wore a mage's robe, his face hidden behind a mask, but he could definitely feel a sinister chill.
He pulled up the sensory settings and dragged the slider to the midpoint. The cold did not lessen; instead, it deepened.
At that moment, a terrifying pressure descended from above, making it difficult to breathe.
No, it was more than just difficulty breathing.
"Cultivation Without All-Nighters" clamped his legs together, trembling all over as his breathing grew labored.
He was not the only one exhibiting strange symptoms. The people beside him were acting oddly too, breathing faster and making strange noises.
Then an indistinct, incoherent whisper reached everyone's ears.
"##@%..."
He could not make out what it was. "Cultivation Without All-Nighters" only felt his head begin to ache.
After a while, he chose to forget those whispers rather than ponder them.
The person who was supposed to recite the ritual prayer remained silent, so "Cultivation Without All-Nighters" voluntarily took his place and spoke into the air.
"O great Cthulhu, the Orange Star People have been cracking down harshly on us lately. We hope to gain the ability to log into the game of our own accord, so that even if we are forcibly logged out, we can return..."
"Of course, we know this is difficult, so this is our first sacrifice. We will continue making sacrifices until our great Lord sees the light of day again..."
The player "Cultivation Without All-Nighters" took a transparent ceramic jar from his spatial inventory. It held a liquid in some unknown state.
One step, then two. Following his memory, he walked over to the basin and gently placed the jar inside it.
The contents of this jar were a rare reward the players had obtained while farming a special dungeon. Called