The unexpected yet perfectly reasonable answer of "You didn't ask" drove the four of them mad for a few seconds. Then [Good Times Don't Last], inexperienced but quick-witted, continued asking:
"Then what should we do now?"
Ed spread his hands.
"You are all souls from the most ancient times, with memories and experience older than civilization itself. You are incarnations of wisdom and witnesses to history. Surely you have your own considerations when it comes to restoring order."
A stock response. [Good Times Don't Last] could already guess the enormous range of situations Ed could apply that line to. Any question he didn't understand could be fobbed off with it.
Still, hearing it for the first time, [Good Times Don't Last] felt genuinely astonished. Huh? An incarnation of wisdom? Me?
He thought for two seconds, then changed his open-ended question into a yes-or-no question. Even its format became very appropriate to the context, as though this world had assimilated his language module:
"My lord, do you think logging and hunting would be a good idea right now? Or do you have a better suggestion?"
Ed nodded in satisfaction.
"Truly, you are wise souls. I believe that with your help, this world will surely grow better and better."
Having received the answer he wanted, [Good Times Don't Last] turned around and gave a thumbs-up.
The other three immediately understood. Looking around, they saw a few isolated trees near the castle, as well as the boundless black forest across the stream.
Although the guidance was minimal, they could all make out the basic quest progression:
Cut down trees → build a raft → cross over to cut down more trees → build a pontoon bridge...
Believing he had seen through everything, [Howling Pothos] nodded and thought to himself:
Classic minimal guidance. It satisfies the players' desire to explore freely while still hinting at the quest. There really is a strong sense of design here.
While [Howling Pothos] was thinking this, someone else had already run out of patience.
With a full 8 points of strength, [Good Times Don't Last] held out his hand to his teammates, brimming with fighting spirit.
"Bring me my axe!"
[Zhongde] obligingly handed him an iron axe.
[Good Times Don't Last] took it, hefted it twice to find the grip that would let him exert the most force, then strode like a powerhouse toward a nearby tree so withered that not a single leaf remained.
He approached the tree, the muscles of his 8-strength body swelling instantly as he swung the iron axe with all his might, sending it whistling through the air.
At the same time, [Good Times Don't Last] saw an eye open in a crack in the trunk. Its yellow-green vertical pupil had already locked onto him.
"Huh?"
A bloody slaughter immediately unfolded. Only it wasn't a human chopping up a tree, but a tree slicing up a human.
Vines shot out of the cracks in the dead tree's trunk and bound [Good Times Don't Last] tight. Then the barbed vines tightened and spun, beginning to cut like chainsaws.
Faced with this clearly [R18] scene, Ed stepped between the giant tree and the other three, who had been stunned into a stupor by their utter shock. Paying no attention whatsoever to [Good Times Don't Last] suffering behind him, he began a detailed, gentle explanation:
"'Deadwood Vine' is a type of vine that feeds on flesh and blood. They parasitize normal trees, eat out their insides, and leave the outer shell behind, using it to disguise themselves as dead trees and attack passing animals.
"After killing its prey, a 'Deadwood Vine' briefly becomes exhausted. Only after resting for a while will it extend its vines through the cracks in the trunk to absorb the flesh and blood. The prey it kills usually exists in chunks."
Plop.
The three looked down beside Ed's feet. It was one of [Good Times Don't Last]'s hands.
Ed pointed at the ground.
"Like this."
The combat tutorial ended, and the three had learned a great deal. As for [Good Times Don't Last]... judging by the system notification, he was probably as dead as could be.
While the three lingered in the aftertaste of the one-sided slaughter, Ed calmly unfolded his folded sack. Holding it in his left hand, he turned two fingers on his right hand into long-handled wooden tongs and began collecting pieces of [Good Times Don't Last]'s character near the Deadwood Vine.
Collecting player fragments like a sanitation worker, Ed suddenly remembered a dark-humor meme he had seen in his previous life: "A mother successfully bargained her child's ransom down from fifty million to one million, only to discover when she got home that some assembly was required."
As for the remaining three players, they had all sunk into thought.
[Howling Pothos]: "So that's what the sack was for?"
[Zhongde]: "A man-eating tree?"
[Do Some Farm Work]: Isn't this a kind of Tree Sentinel too?
In the real world, inside a spacious bedroom.
"My hand!"
Jing Ming abruptly pulled off his helmet and looked around, gasping for breath. Both his hands were still there, and everything around him was so familiar. Only the sweat trickling down his temples silently spoke of the horror he had just experienced.
The warmth of the bedroom brought everything back to him. Yes, this was his home.
Then just now, he had been...
Right. He had been playing a game.
A very realistic game.
Somewhat belatedly, he looked at the helmet he had flung aside and began sorting through everything he had experienced that evening.
As a teenager who had just graduated from high school, Jing Ming had spent this summer demonstrating perfectly just how much excess energy he had.
He didn't really care about the abrupt drop from nationally protected animal to public-safety-threatening trash. He had learned what he needed to learn and taken the exams he needed to take. Now it was time to treat his childhood self to a feast.
Looking back over the past three years, although he hadn't had many chances to game to his heart's content, he had still kept up with pretty much all the news that interested him.
Based on his knowledge and common sense, there was something very wrong with this game he was beta-testing.
He had actually realized it long ago. Perhaps it was when he hadn't been able to feel the helmet, or perhaps when he discovered he could interfere with the CG.
But at the time, he had been far too absorbed-absorbed in that chaotic, terrifying world with its mysterious allure.
Although it sounded a little morbid to put it this way, he genuinely liked this style. This world, which looked as though the Mother Goddess had given birth to it several times over before Nurgle spat on it, really was a whole new version unlike anything he had ever seen.
He had become so absorbed that he had even spoken to the guide NPC as though he were a real person. Only when the vines bound him tight, sliced him into pieces, and forced him offline did he regain his composure and remember that he was apparently playing a game.
Although the vast majority of the pain had been blocked, Jing Ming still felt an aching numbness in his wrist.
He looked at the clock on the wall. To think that only half an hour had passed since he entered the game, and he had already earned the humiliating achievement of being the first to die.
After that experience, Jing Ming immediately lost interest in the other games he had originally lined up for later. He put the helmet back on, only to discover a slowly filling progress bar:
[Player [Good Times Don't Last] is reviving. Current progress: 32%]
"Why does reviving take so long?!"