But no one responded to him.

The next second, the storyline in Penglai City ended, and Qiao Zhihui was instantly ejected from the small city. As the scenery flickered between light and dark, he felt as though he was breaking free from a dream. Gradually, the sounds of bustling voices filled his ears again.

The Floating Dream event for the game’s three-year anniversary was a storyline set hundreds of years ago. Players experienced the events of the past, like traveling back in time. Now that the plotline was over, Qiao Zhihui was back where he had originally logged in—the main city of the game, where crowds bustled past him. But that person from before was nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Qiao Zhihui’s live stream was blowing up with reactions.

“Was that really Jiu Shen? Did I see it right?”

“I thought he’d quit the game?”

“He’s back! Spread the word—I’m pulling all my friends who left back into the game! This Gods and Demons anniversary is about to get wild!”

Seeing the sudden surge in his stream’s popularity, Qiao Zhihui could feel the buzz. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself after a momentous encounter. Today was bound to be an unforgettable day.

Jiu Shen.

Veteran Gods and Demons players would all recognize that name. His in-game ID was simply “Jiu”—short, yet unforgettable. His class was a Mage, which was one of the most challenging classes in the game. The mage was not typically a popular choice because it was a jack-of-all-trades but master-of-none. Many players who preferred life skills would choose it, but not Jiu Shen.

To this day, battle videos from Jiu’s account were still considered textbook material, watched and re-watched by players for his incredible reflexes and precise combat strategy. He set the benchmark for class pairings, and many still use his methods today.

Gods and Demons had always relied heavily on player-versus-player dynamics. In the game’s early days, guilds were constantly at war, struggling to establish cities and secure resources, which were just as crucial in the game as they would be in reality.

During that chaotic period, Jiu Shen stood out.

His strategies were flawless, his planning meticulous. The current top guild, White Wall, owed a great deal of its early development to him, and even the city Qiao Zhihui was now standing in had many ties to Jiu Shen.

Building everything from scratch during the game’s pioneering phase wasn’t easy. If not for the foundation set by these early powerhouses, Gods and Demons wouldn’t be what it was today.

Yet, fame breeds controversy. Over a year ago, people began accusing Jiu Shen of being a plant by the game company, suggesting he was using some kind of official hack, an unfair advantage that gave him an edge over other players. The allegations caused an uproar, leading many players to misunderstand him.

In response, Jiu Shen didn’t defend himself—he simply quit the game. He had always kept his face concealed, and no one knew who he was in real life. After the drama, many players eventually realized the accusations didn’t add up.

Jiu Shen’s fame was built on his combat prowess and his creative approach to skill usage, which provided valuable insights for all players, not just mages. His equipment wasn’t anything special, just moderately above average and openly obtained through legitimate means. He rarely participated in player-versus-player tournaments, nor did he take kills from other players. So where was the unfairness?

More importantly, Jiu Shen was renowned for his strategic brilliance—something that no “hack” could replicate. His presence helped establish order in the game, especially in such a high-freedom, full-dive MMO like Gods and Demons.

Eventually, most players began to miss him. And now, after over a year of silence, he was back!

“Absolutely no mistake,” Qiao Zhihui announced to his viewers. “I never thought I’d see him again.”

The excitement on Qiao Zhihui’s face was unmistakable, and he felt genuinely moved. If he had ever truly admired anyone, it was Jiu Shen.

Gods and Demons had been his first streaming game, and he had worked his way up from those early days, always inspired by Jiu Shen’s gameplay. He wondered if Jiu Shen even remembered him.

The game had changed a lot over the years. The level cap had risen from 100 to 120, and with the third anniversary, it was set to increase to 150. Jiu Shen’s gear was probably outdated by now; he still seemed to be wearing the equipment he had before he left. Qiao Zhihui immediately wanted to post on the world channel to look for mage equipment, but the player community acted faster than he did.

Jiu Shen’s return spread faster than news of a hidden boss.

Before he could finish typing, a line of text appeared in the void—the highest-grade full-server message, visible to every online player. And it wasn’t cheap to use.

“A reward is offered for Jiu Shen’s current coordinates. Anyone able to contact him directly will be generously rewarded. Check the bounty board for details.”

The message was signed by Bai Qiuyan, the leader of White Wall, the very same pro who had recently soloed the hidden Skeleton Ghost boss. He was rarely seen acting so amiable.

Following this, even more full-server announcements popped up. Some players who had a grudge against Jiu Shen were threatening to hunt him down, while others wanted to find him for good.

He’d only made a brief appearance in Qiao Zhihui’s stream, his only words a brief comment on Xie Shuangxue.

This sparked curiosity about Qiao Zhihui’s stream, as everyone now wanted to know what Jiu Shen had said. Naturally, they tuned in, and suddenly, Xie Shuangxue’s subtle act of throwing medicine to Ling Xuan—which might have gone unnoticed—was replayed repeatedly, leading to a surge in discussion around his character.

Already popular among fans, this ambiguous act of giving medicine sparked even more debate: Was it kindness, or just cunning?

Some even speculated that Jiu Shen’s interest in this NPC meant he might show up somewhere close to Xie Shuangxue, prompting countless players who usually ignored the storyline to dig into it for any clues.

Meanwhile, in the game, Xie Shuangxue himself noticed a surge of interest focused on him, largely thanks to that popular streamer and his sharp-eyed viewers who were now discussing his every move.

In this game, NPCs had to know how to seize opportunities.

The act of giving medicine was not only to gain players’ sympathy and improve his poor reputation but also to test the potential for altering the plot. He’d noticed that other NPCs’ behaviors actually did shift with the storyline changes, like how Chen Xin’s attitude toward him had softened.

If Chen Xin could change, then perhaps others could, too.

When the first storyline in Penglai City ended, it offered Xie Shuangxue a unique experience. Unlike players who could switch between various storylines, he was confined to only one.

Why only one?

Xie Shuangxue pondered that perhaps the game’s primary plotline was like the “ground level”—the true baseline. If there was only one player in the game, they’d be directed through this primary line. Other channels were generated solely due to the large player base, each beginning later than the primary line.

While players were ejected from the storyline, the setting and NPCs around Xie Shuangxue hadn’t disappeared.

Only then did he realize this world continued even without players watching. SEA’s creation of Gods and Demons had achieved an unimaginable level of realism. From the NPC perspective, everything continued seamlessly, without abridgments.

SEA created an environment where, even when players were absent, NPCs continued to exist and develop—a true 90%-plus realism simulation world.

With his actions still guided by the system, Xie Shuangxue could only act within the limits of his character’s role. And while the time in this world seemed to pass differently, it would only sync with the players’ time during a storyline encounter.

For Xie Shuangxue, this was good news.

It meant that this world was continuous; there were no separate channels without players. His efforts to change the plot could continue to evolve.

But just as he was grasping this, he noticed someone else nearby, staring directly at him with a half-masked face.

It was the same person who had scanned his hand earlier, absorbing a light fragment. But weren’t all players supposed to have vanished?

Why was he still here?

Certainly not an ordinary player.

Only Xie Shuangxue found this puzzling. For other NPCs, it was perfectly normal for adventurers to pop up here and there. They wouldn’t even think to drive the player away.

This person’s hand held a device that looked remarkably like the system’s backend detector.

He must be a Wubianhai GM, Xie Shuangxue thought, feeling as though he was being watched by an inspector. He’d have to be extra cautious moving forward.

Then, just as he was debating his next move, he noticed more light gathering around that person. Ah…a renewable resource!

Suddenly, he felt calm again. Perhaps he could keep feeding off this energy, he thought with a twinge of amusement.

But his musings didn’t last long. Soon, he heard the sound of wings flapping.

The situation in Penglai City was too complicated—someone else from the Floating Dream storyline had arrived.

Following the sound, he turned his head to see flocks of Feather Clan members arriving. When he turned back, that mysterious player had vanished.

Yet Xie Shuangxue had no time to worry about him now.

As the introductory arc of the world quest, this was also the moment the Feather Clan’s “entry into the world” began.

The story of the Book of Floating Dreams was only just beginning, and understanding this story would be the first step in changing its course.

As the three-year anniversary storyline, Xie Shuangxue’s plot was anything but simple, with roots going back to the ancient backdrop of the Gods and Demons world.

In the current world, gods and demons were simply sources of power for different classes. But centuries ago, the conflict had been much fiercer.

The gods, symbolizing light and justice, had always suppressed the demons, who were associated with chaos and darkness. This balance hinged on the Feather Clan, protectors of the Book of Floating Dreams—an artifact that kept the demonic forces in check.

Only by destroying the Book of Floating Dreams could the demons finally free themselves from this oppression. The young Demon Prince Luo Yin, with his unique gifts and ambitions, ventured to infiltrate the Feather Clan.

But as the Feather Clan’s Book of Floating Dreams began to show signs of instability, turmoil erupted.

As the stakes of the struggle grew higher, Chun Yao and Luo Yin’s intertwined fates reflected the larger battle of gods and demons.

And Xie Shuangxue? In this tale, he was a useful tool.

Heroes like Chun Yao couldn’t dirty their hands with certain tasks. It would be Xie Shuangxue who would play the necessary supporting role.

And right now, it seemed like the protagonist was in trouble.