Chapter 30: Setting Thirty

Setting Thirty: Monster Hunter (Part 12)

Ideals are plump, but reality is skinny.

When Tianya’s sword struck the pinkish-white core, the sparks that flew from metal meeting stone and the blade bouncing back told the young man he was still too young.

As a Castle-rank Chess Piece, the monster was actually rather unimpressive offensively. Its two tentacles, though massive, were slow and limited by range. Once Chunqiu had used strategy to pin them down, the monster seemed to become a shelled fruit, ripe for the picking.

This gave Tianya the illusion that Castle-rank monsters weren’t such a big deal—only to realize the monster hadn’t invested in offense at all. It had put all its points into defense!

Seeing the negligible damage, Tianya let out a near-hysterical shout: “Boss Chunqiu—we can’t even scratch this thing!!”

The combined attacks of dozens of people had only contaminated 1% of the monster’s Heart SP—and that was instantly erased by its powerful recovery. The monster truly lived up to its rank name, as impregnable as a fortress. The assault had barely begun, and they were already sinking into the quagmire of defeat.

In contrast to Tianya’s panic, Chunqiu remained calm. Against a Castle-rank piece, he’d prepared himself for all kinds of surprises.

“World.” Chunqiu asked. “Do you have any attack-boosting skills?”

A brief silence from the fourth floor, then a male voice responded.

“Strength Blessing—increases attack by 25%, lasts 30 minutes.”

That was a bit underwhelming, Chunqiu thought—then the person above tossed down another line.

“Berserk—increases attack by 150%, lowers defense by 100%, lasts 5 minutes.”

Shan Ziwei, still wrapped in tentacles, had been listening to everything outside. From the exchange, he’d gathered two things: first, Chunqiu and World had only just met on this Chessboard—they weren’t established teammates; and second… World’s voice sounded… somewhat familiar?

Chunqiu made his decision immediately.

“Hongchen, leave five people to keep shooting, then lead the others to attack the core. World—don’t worry about my SP for now; give Strength Blessing to everyone based on your MP availability, and give Berserk to Tianya and Hongchen. Tianya, lead the armed squad in coordinated attacks—don’t spread out! Focus your fire!”

Everyone followed Chunqiu’s instructions. World gave Strength Blessing to each of them. When Tianya met up with Hongchen, he saw World point at him from across the way—a flash of red light burst around him, and his body seemed to swell with boundless power, nearly overflowing. With a battle cry of “Follow me!,” Tianya launched his attack on the monster with renewed vigor.

“CLANG, CLANG, CLANG—”

The密集 clash of impacts sounded. This time, they contaminated 3% of the monster’s Heart SP—though it immediately recovered 1%, but at least now there was hope of grinding it down.

“Ah!”

A cry of alarm—Tianya turned to see an armed squad member being strangled by a bloodline emerging from the core. The monster, sensing the danger, was fighting back. Tianya wanted to cut the bloodline, but more and more lines were flowing out of the core, spreading like sea anemone tentacles, threatening to engulf them all.

“Pour the solution on yourselves!”

Chunqiu’s instruction came just in time. He’d been prepared for this after seeing Shan Ziwei entangled by bloodlines. Everyone did it without hesitation, dousing themselves with their remaining solution.

The bloodlines, touching the solution-soaked clothing, convulsed and went limp like grasshoppers hit with pesticide. Apart from the bloodlines, the monster had no other means of resistance. It tried to pull back the tentacle trapped by Chunqiu’s Dragon-Subduing Shield, but Chunqiu, chugging potions and using skills, held it fast.

Under their concerted assault, the monster’s Heart SP was contaminated bit by bit. The entire process could only be described as a “grind.” In Role-Play, every action was tied to MP, and MP determined the life and death of players and Chess Pieces alike. So no matter how much they wanted to keep up the DPS, they had to take multiple breaks, watching helplessly as the monster recovered its contaminated Heart SP.

Chunqiu drank several MP recovery potions. The others could rest, but he couldn’t—he had to rely on those precious potions. Watching the monster’s Heart SP grow darker and the time grow shorter, his heart was in his throat.

Even Chunqiu couldn’t tell whether they would grind the monster down first, or the monster would evolve first.

Finally, the monster’s Heart SP turned completely black. The players’ hearts first relaxed—then clenched tight.

Normally, this phase was the easiest. Not only did the fully contaminated SP decrease automatically, but the target would also randomly experience disruptive hallucinations—but that was exactly the problem. When fighting other bosses or mobs, hallucinations in the enemy were mostly beneficial to players, because they’d do bizarre things that opened up attack windows. But now they were facing a behemoth of ancient proportions—especially when they’d used the white-haired youth in a nonstandard way to tie up one of its tentacles…

So the monster, with its Heart SP fully contaminated, apparently hallucinated that its “hat” had flown away. It lowered the tentacle that had been wrapped around its head and angrily chased after the nonexistent “white hat.”

“Ah—!”

Hongchen screamed and ducked as the massive tentacle brushed past her head, the wind nearly blowing her away. One of the armed squad members beside her wasn’t so lucky—caught and lifted by the tentacle.

The monster held the armed squad member in front of its core, seeming to examine whether this was its white hat.

Mm, clearly not—this one’s yellow.

So it tossed him aside, and the poor fellow became an arc across the sky, disappearing to who knows where. The players stared pale-faced at their shortened Spade SP (Anger) and Club SP (Sorrow), confirming the unlucky bastard’s death.

—Thank goodness Setting 6 wasn’t an “instant death on violation” kind of setting.

After tossing one, the monster naturally went for the next. Everyone scattered and scrambled. Even Chunqiu was taken aback by this development. Only World remained methodical, healing and applying Berserk in an orderly fashion—also casting Cleanse and Soothing on Shan Ziwei, who’d lost his cover.

Seeing that shooting Shan Ziwei no longer drew the monster’s attention, Chunqiu quickly changed tactics.

“Everyone, concentrate at the base of the core! Full DPS!!!”

With the monster’s Heart SP fully contaminated, not only was it dropping, but the monster’s super recovery had disappeared too. Chunqiu naturally didn’t intend to let it rest until the contamination cleared—he was going all-in. A few commands later, the scattered formation began to regroup. Players and Chess Pieces gritted their teeth and hammered at the core, even as the monster’s tentacles plucked them out and tossed them aside one by one.

“Ah—”

A piercing scream faded into the distance. Tianya numbly checked his SP—unchanged. This one got lucky, didn’t die from the fall. His confidence was draining away. As their numbers dwindled, not only were their SP bars becoming critically low from the violations, but their damage output was starting to fall short.

What Tianya could see, Chunqiu naturally could too. He let out a soft sigh—behind the black-and-yellow armor, his face finally showed fatigue and resignation.

At this rate, even if they sacrificed everyone here, they’d only get the monster’s Heart SP down to 30%—nowhere near Spirit Collapse.

“Um—I think you guys might have misunderstood something.”

The sudden voice was like a thunderclap, drawing everyone’s attention. Not just Chunqiu and his team—even Shan Ziwei heard that half-teasing tone.

They all looked up to see the bald black man standing in a helicopter, looking at them with a pained expression: “I thought I sent you an armed squad, not sandbags?”

His appearance at this moment was surely for a reason. Under everyone’s expectant gaze, the bald man dropped the jokes and got straight to the point: “I’m here to relay the government’s latest orders.”

“We’ve decided to use nuclear weapons.”

All the players’ expressions twisted in unison—it’s about damn time!!!

“Uh, because the higher-ups took a while to sign the agreement.” Even the bald man could feel the wave of resentment washing over him, his voice becoming a little cautious. “The nuclear strike will launch in twelve minutes.”

Even though they knew the players were the protagonists of this game—meant to shine—they still wanted to splatter blood all over those procrastinating, dithering bureaucrats who’d been holding back the trump card.

“To be honest, the government can’t guarantee the nuke will destroy the monster completely, so it needs to be weakened further.” The bald man pulled out a telescope to look down. “You’ve already reduced its power by two-tenths. Keep it up—at least get it down to half.”

The monster’s Heart SP was currently at 79%—meaning they needed to get it below 50%.

“Weaken the monster until the nuke arrives. That’s your final mission!”

Hearing the bald man’s words, Chunqiu’s heart immediately quickened. It seemed the system knew they couldn’t kill the monster alone and had lowered the difficulty, only requiring them to bring its Heart SP down to 50%.

That was entirely achievable.

Chunqiu began calculating seriously—then had to change “entirely” to “barely.” There was one unpredictable factor: Setting 6.

[Setting 6: You have received help from the government. Grateful, you are unwilling to see any of their personnel harmed.]

In the current situation, if they were lucky and everyone the monster threw died, they could smoothly bring the monster’s Heart SP down to 50%. If they were unlucky, and the monster killed five people, they’d have to withdraw the armed squad, or they’d immediately OOC into Spirit Collapse.

And of course, what they feared came to pass. When the monster’s Heart SP dropped to 57%, it tossed out five people—all dead on impact.

Reluctantly, Chunqiu had to withdraw the armed squad, leaving Tianya and Hongchen to play hide-and-seek with the monster, stalling until its Heart SP naturally fell to 50%.

“Boss Chunqiu—” Tianya rolled desperately to avoid a tentacle grab, his voice miserable: “I can’t even fight!”

Hongchen said nothing—she was spending all her energy just dodging.

Chunqiu was out of options too. If they didn’t attack, the monster would soon exit combat mode. Once out of combat, it could rest—and rest would clear the Heart SP contamination.

Then he saw Shan Ziwei.

“Brother Fanzi.” Chunqiu called out loudly. “I apologize for any earlier offense. Please don’t hold it against me. Right now, only you can attack the monster and keep it in combat—so everyone can clear the Chessboard.”

Shan Ziwei looked up at Chunqiu and spoke very slowly.

“You want me to attack—the monster that’s protecting me from your attacks?”

His voice was flat, merely stating a fact—but the slow pace made it sound almost mocking.

“Yes, because it’s the best way to clear.” Chunqiu said frankly. “If you were in my position, you’d do the same. This is just a game. Whether it’s sacrificing strangers or even sacrificing myself to help my teammates clear, I wouldn’t hesitate.” Seeing Shan Ziwei silent, Chunqiu delivered the final blow: “Don’t forget—we’re on the same side. You’re not going to hold back because you’ve developed feelings for it, are you? It’s just a bunch of data. We’re players.”

Chunqiu watched with satisfaction as Shan Ziwei drew his weapon and aimed at the core beneath him. Then, suddenly, he saw the white-haired youth tilt his head slightly and flash a smile so bright it was almost excessive.

“You’re right. It’s just a game.”

After speaking, Shan Ziwei shifted his aim slightly—and opened fire.

“BANG—BOOM!!!”

A massive explosion engulfed the entire building. The already precarious structure finally gave way and collapsed entirely. The monster, along with the rubble, crashed onto the lawn, lying motionless for a moment—as if stunned.

Chunqiu stared dumbfounded at Shan Ziwei, who’d fallen from the monster’s core. His voice cracked: “You—”

“I did exactly what you said.” Shan Ziwei scrambled up with a grimace, wearing a look of proud, eager accomplishment as he said to Chunqiu: “See? I brought the monster’s Heart SP straight down to 44%—mission accomplished! The only sad part is that comrades Tianya and Hongchen tragically fell in the line of duty during this engagement. I deeply regret their loss, but I believe they died a worthy death, a glorious death—just as you said, Chunqiu: for the sake of clearing, all sacrifices are worth it.”

Shan Ziwei’s expression was heavy with grief, righteous indignation, and… sarcasm. This particular sufferer was normally soft, but when truly angered, he’d bite like a mad rabbit. Just now, Shan Ziwei had shifted his aim. Under the T-formation, Tianya and Hongchen, with their defenses reduced to zero by Berserk, were instantly vaporized. It had to be said: those who blow others up will be blown up themselves. T-formation had blown up Shan Ziwei and the monster; now T-formation had blown up its own side.

After reducing Tianya and Hongchen to cannon fodder, Shan Ziwei took the opportunity to stomp on Chunqiu a few more times—having spent most of his life online, there wasn’t any trash talk or verbal abuse Shan Ziwei couldn’t dish out. He poured it all into Chunqiu’s mind. As one might expect, Chunqiu was furious and attacked.

As Shan Ziwei had said, he had completed the mission. The monster’s Heart SP was below 50%—all they had to do was wait for the nuke. In other words, this was a perfect opportunity for settling scores.

Driven by both revenge for his teammates and a desire to teach the white-haired youth a lesson, Chunqiu released the now-still tentacle and charged at Shan Ziwei with his spear. Shan Ziwei had been trash-talking, but he’d also been secretly using Setting Cards behind his back, equipping everything he could.

His opponent was a much higher-level player, yet Shan Ziwei felt no fear. His mind held only one thought: take this bastard down.

“Bang! Bang! Bang…”

The shots rang out in a steady rhythm. Even Chunqiu, his opponent, couldn’t help feeling impressed—Shan Ziwei’s aim was exceptional. Chunqiu’s body was covered by the Dragon-Subduing Shield; the only gap was his eyes—he needed to see where he was going. So the white-haired youth relentlessly targeted his eyes, bullets streaming toward the small opening. If Chunqiu had been standing still, it might have been fine—but he was charging! Not walking, not running—charging! What Setting Card was this guy using to achieve such pinpoint accuracy?

Shan Ziwei backed away as he fired. Getting into melee range with an MT was suicide—but he couldn’t kite Chunqiu effectively either; the man’s charge was far faster than he could run. After several shots, Chunqiu was about to collide with him. If that landed, Shan Ziwei would be either dead or half-dead.

At the critical moment, Shan Ziwei blinked, his expression turning to terror as he looked behind Chunqiu: “The monster…!”

Chunqiu’s heart skipped—he reflexively turned to look. Teaching Shan Ziwei a lesson was secondary; if he got knocked out of the Chessboard by the monster right as they were about to clear, that would be a disaster.

Behind him was nothing. The monster’s tentacles still lay limply in the distance.

What happens when you get distracted at high speed? It’s like a car on the highway doing 120 km/h—a slight turn of the wheel and the whole vehicle drifts sideways.

So Chunqiu missed Shan Ziwei by a hair’s breadth, carried far past him. Even though he immediately stopped the charge, inertia had already put more distance between them.

Chunqiu’s face darkened. He’d fallen for such a cheap trick. Fueled by anger, he charged again like a human tank—this time, he was going to grind that white-haired youth into paste.

Same charge, same firing—this time, just before Chunqiu reached him, the white-haired youth’s face went pale. He blinked, blinked again—as if he’d seen something terrifying.

“Behind you! Behind you!”

You think I’ll fall for that again? Chunqiu thought angrily—but then his heart started wavering. A voice in his head seemed to say: what if it’s real this time? In movies, there’s always that scene where a character says smugly, “I’m not falling for that again,” and everyone behind them is staring in horror—and the real monster appears…

As he thought this, his vision suddenly darkened, as if a shadow had fallen over him. He couldn’t resist—he turned to look.

There was nothing.

The shadow was just a cloud passing over the sun.

And so Chunqiu missed Shan Ziwei again.

Even though he’d anticipated it and slowed down in advance, not overshooting too far, he couldn’t deny he’d been duped a second time.

Once was an accident. Twice was worth thinking about.

Chunqiu immediately realized the other must be using some kind of misleading skill—otherwise, he wouldn’t have fallen for it again like an idiot. Why would an enemy warn him?

He dropped his underestimation and began to take Shan Ziwei seriously.

When Shan Ziwei saw Chunqiu produce a blue potion, he shifted his aim to shoot it—but the man shamelessly hid behind his shield, impossible to hit, let alone interrupt.

When Chunqiu rose again, Shan Ziwei sensed trouble—a light rope shot from Chunqiu’s hand, instantly wrapped around his waist, and yanked him forward.

“!”

The rope vanished after completing its pull. Shan Ziwei’s pupils contracted sharply—Chunqiu’s golden spear was already thrusting down at him. With no defense, he simply drew his longsword and used Heavy Strike.

“CLANG!”

His attack hit Chunqiu’s armor; Chunqiu’s attack landed on his flesh. The difference was obvious. Though an MT specialized in tanking, Chunqiu’s attack power was still overwhelming for Shan Ziwei—a disparity in gear. Shan Ziwei’s Diamond SP instantly turned black, dropping nearly a quarter.

The only silver lining was that Chunqiu’s Spade SP was also fully black—and it was already down to 10%, making it look even more dangerous than Shan Ziwei’s. Chunqiu was higher level, so Shan Ziwei couldn’t Reconnaissance his stats, but he could still infer: violating Setting 6 drained Spade SP and Club SP for everyone—the system didn’t care whether you were a newbie or a veteran; OOC meant SP loss, and everyone lost the same amount. Shan Ziwei’s Spade SP was down to 10%, meaning Chunqiu’s should also be 10%. And since his attack type was Spade-attribute, that was a weak point he could exploit.

In the final moments, Shan Ziwei gritted his teeth and swung Heavy Strike relentlessly, ignoring the pain of his pierced body.

As Shan Ziwei had guessed, Chunqiu’s Spade SP was indeed on the brink. Though his attacks were Diamond-attribute, and Shan Ziwei’s Diamond SP was still at 80%, Chunqiu’s high offense and defense gave him the edge. Shan Ziwei would need four more hits to zero out that 10% Spade SP. Chunqiu only needed one more strike with the Golden Spear to zero out Shan Ziwei’s fully black Diamond SP.

Seeing victory within reach, Chunqiu’s lips curled into a grim smile. This white-haired youth had caused him too many surprises—Chunqiu had even used a precious MP recovery potion, a testament to his resolve to eliminate him.

But sometimes, a single word—or a single skill—can change everything. Like when Dragon Emperor Unrivaled had pinned Shan Ziwei down. And like now.

“Greater Heal.”

A flash of white light. Chunqiu watched helplessly as Shan Ziwei, bathed in that light, survived his spear thrust and struck back with his sword, landing the final blow.

Chunqiu’s Spade SP hit zero. In the moment before Spirit Collapse, he turned in disbelief toward the upper floor.

“World!?”

The figure on the fourth floor looked down from on high, like a god surveying the masses below. Chunqiu’s eyes burned red with rage. If not for Shan Ziwei’s shot, he would have cleared the Chessboard with his teammates. If not for World’s heal, he would have killed Shan Ziwei and avenged them before clearing. If not for…

Unfortunately, there were no ifs.

Shan Ziwei backed away several steps, putting distance between himself and Chunqiu. He watched the tall man’s shoulders slump, his massive shield falling to the ground with a dull thud.

Instead of going berserk, Spirit-Collapsed Chunqiu simply turned to stare at the rubble that had buried the monster and his teammates, and said with profound feeling:

“Hongchen, Tianya—how could you abandon me?”

“We may not have been born together, but we can die together.”

With that, Chunqiu drew his Golden Spear across his neck and followed his teammates into the afterlife.

“…”

Shan Ziwei could easily imagine what the real Chunqiu would be thinking, watching his Spirit-Collapsed self. He knew the feeling all too well. This game’s Spirit Collapse was nothing but a bottomless pit.

Though he felt a pang of sympathy, Shan Ziwei happily walked over and picked up the white chess piece from Chunqiu’s corpse.

As expected of a high-level player—it was a white Bishop piece. By now, Shan Ziwei had learned just how formidable Knight-rank and above Chess Pieces were. A Bishop piece was already remarkable. And he happened to have a chess box that, it seemed, maybe, perhaps, already contained a complete set of chess pieces…

Shan Ziwei, who’d been carrying a treasure without knowing it, was stunned. He heard rhythmic footsteps and turned to see World emerging from the building, stopping a short distance away.

Of the new players, World was the only one Shan Ziwei had any good feelings toward. Not just for the earlier care—if not for World’s final heal, he would be the one cursing his Spirit-Collapsed self right now.

Shan Ziwei thanked him: “Thank you.”

World shook his head, as if to say no need.

Clunk. Shan Ziwei’s heart skipped. Slowly, he realized: this familiar situation, this familiar healing, this familiar posture—it was really like…

As if confirming his suspicion, World raised his hand and removed his protective mask, revealing a very handsome face.

He stood across from Shan Ziwei, holding the mask, his black disheveled bangs partially covering his dark eyes—achingly familiar.

It was Host.