Outside a wooden house on the outskirts of Valhalla.
"Knock knock knock."
A rhythmic knocking sounded, followed by a deep "Come in," and the wooden door opened.
"I was wondering why I hadn't seen you with the Dragonborn."
Entering the room was the instructor who served as the Gungnir's coordination skills coach and the Dragonborn's "Loyalty Etiquette" coach, the true Soul Returner [ A Huan ].
Despite his special status, players see him as nothing more than a hardcore gamer who spends a lot of time online, and they would never think of him as someone who "abandons his physical body" or "is completely immersed in the game."
Moreover, [ A Huan ] has really integrated into this world to a very high degree; he has even bought a piece of land and built his own wooden house.
If it weren't for the semi-transparent player ID above his head, most players would probably mistake him for an NPC.
With the homeowner's permission, [ A Huan ] entered the seemingly simple wooden house and found a chair to sit down:
"Your work is still so rudimentary."
"Um."
The person in front of me was working at their desk, and their response was rather perfunctory.
Having anticipated this, [ A Huan ] didn't care at all, and simply placed the two food items in wooden boxes on the table:
I brought you food.
"Thanks."
A brief reply followed.
[ A Huan ] looked at the Soul Returner was bent over writing something, and asked:
"You've taken on another new job?"
"Right."
The answer was still brief and simple. Just as the instructor was about to ask something else, he heard the other person suddenly stretch and yawn, making a sound of relief.
"Done!!!"
The Soul Returner who had been writing at his desk raised his head, revealing a seemingly ordinary face.
But on this face, his eyes were exceptionally bright and lively. It was none other than [ Ginseng Rooster ], who had recently made a grand appearance and displayed his skills in the Great Labyrinth City after switching bodies.
He shook the paper in his hand, breaking free from his immersive creative state and reverting to his usual extroverted self.
"I took on a small job; it only takes a little time."
Can I watch it?
[ A Huan ] seemed quite interested in this upon hearing it.
Since Seraphina agreed to convert her Dragonborn into loyal northerners, [ Ginseng Rooster ] and [ A Huan ] have gradually become acquainted.
After all, one of them was in charge of "etiquette" training, and the other was in charge of writing short stories for the sun-like General Seraphina. Their daily interactions due to their cooperation were considerable.
After working together a few times, [ A Huan ] quickly gained a general understanding of the other party's storytelling abilities, realizing that he was a guy who was good at coming up with crazy ideas and writing short scripts.
It's only natural that he would be interested in a freshly written masterpiece.
"Take a look, I've already sent the screenshots, task complete."
[ Ginseng Rooster ] flung the papers in his hand at me, then set his sights on the lunch the other person had brought along the way.
"What's this fried Scarlet Millet?"
" Claw Fish."
"Is this edible?"
Are there any foods we can't eat?
That makes sense.
Having been persuaded by the other party, the " Ginseng Rooster " started rubbing his hands together, eager to devour the takeout in front of him.
Across the table, [ A Huan ], having taken the script, only glanced at it twice before frowning.
"Is this... some kind of parallel world setting? Or is it that 'if route' thing?"
"No, this is the statement and background information I had the big boss write for us."
Skeleton Alliance, Frontier.
[ Clear Soup Master ], who just sent a screenshot to [ Dark Archmage ], explained:
"We'll follow this procedure from now on; I guarantee there won't be any problems."
In the deep dungeon, the two Soul Returner were being held in separate cells.
Their hands were tightly bound with ropes, and they were suspended from a wooden beam, only able to touch the ground slightly when they stood on tiptoe.
At this moment, the two of them were swaying back and forth, like wind chimes under a corridor being gently swayed by a breeze.
This position allows the two to stay awake most of the time and focus most of their attention on balancing the swelling in their hands and the tingling in their feet.
This can quickly break down their willpower, causing them to collapse in a shorter period of time.
Before each of them stood a menacing "punisher" and a composed recorder.
"Whoever reveals their origins, purpose, and identity first will live."
The skeletons' Imperial language remained standard but halting, carrying an unusual, chilling authority, especially as the Punisher uttered these words while cracking his bone whip.
However, the two men, who were being held separately and thus trapped in a prisoner's dilemma, were not as panicked as the skeletons had expected.
At this moment, within the player system, the two are still communicating:
"Don't you think this dungeon is actually quite habitable?"
"Is there?"
"Yes, regular dungeons are cold and damp, while the desert outside is hot and dry. The two cancel each other out, making this dungeon built in the desert the most comfortable place I've been in these past few days."
"You really think going to jail is like a vacation?"
"It could be a vacation, after all, we've been busy for quite a few days."
"Alright, I don't care about those things, but... background, purpose, identity... are these what you're asking about?"
"Yes, they even said that whoever confesses first will live. The age-old prisoner's dilemma is completely useless against us."
"Oh? May I ask what your opinion is on this, you professional... capitulationist?"
"Let me say it again, I'm not a surrenderist, I'm an infiltrator."
"It's not important. Just set a timeframe for the confession, and we can all say roughly the same thing then, and there won't be any problems."
"It's okay. Confessing right away will only make people look down on us. We need to hold out for a while."
"How long will that take?"
"I've always believed that not all methods of torture are punishment. For example... at least we can endure until the honey trap, what do you think?"
"Have you forgotten...?"
"Of course not, who says you can't use your charm on a woman?"
"I mean, have you forgotten that they're all... skeletons?"
(A brief silence)
"Ah, right! They, they're not..."
A few breaths later, a new message came from [ Clear Soup Master ], but the attitude had abruptly reversed compared to before, making [ Dark Archmage ]'s lips twitch:
"Let's confess, hurry up, I'm tired."
"... Didn't you just say that confessing too early would make people look down on you?"
"No, I just suddenly felt that the Skeleton Alliance is a rather boring force. I might as well just confess quickly, and then let them do whatever they want with me. So how do these skeletons pass on and reproduce? Do they do it by digging up graves?"