Xie Shuangxue blinked, his expression growing more determined: “With all of you saying this, I feel much more at ease.”

With a face that couldn’t look more innocent, Xie Shuangxue was actually considering many things.

He needed information on the Evil Sword, but Lu Yun Tower was vast. Even if dozens or hundreds of people went in, it would be like a drop of water in the sea, given the sheer number of NPCs in the city. Quickly gathering any reliable information would require the players’ numbers and diligence.

However, having Xie Shuangxue personally hand out tasks to so many people was out of the question, especially with bond value rewards. Giving out too many of those would devalue them—definitely not an option.

Previously, he’d issued two tasks, and several players had already used their points to reach the first level of skill specialization. Bai Qiuheng had even gone so far as to buy points from other players with cash, successfully exchanging them to reach the second level, enhancing her abilities significantly.

To reach the third level, the point requirement would be 50. It seemed high, but if tasks continued at the previous rate and involved more players, the bond value would accumulate too quickly. Players like Bai Qiuheng would inevitably redeem it, potentially affecting game balance. At that point, Endless Sea would no longer turn a blind eye.

So, aligning himself as an interest partner with the players, and forging a genuine connection, would be nothing but advantageous for Xie Shuangxue.

Fortunately, these were no ordinary players. If he could win them over, it would ripple out and attract more players.

And it wasn’t as if he was offering nothing; he’d just change the approach so he retained more control.

Bai Qiuyan, famously short-tempered and proud, seemed genuinely interested in this NPC. Just as he was about to pledge his loyalty, everyone present received a new hidden task notification.

This task had two objectives: to gather useful information about the Evil Sword and to help Xie Shuangxue set up an ambush.

These points had already been discussed, but the number of participants hadn’t increased—it remained the original 22. The most crucial change was in how the bond value reward was awarded. Instead of everyone getting a flat 5 points, it would be determined by the NPC based on contribution, ranging from 0 to 10.

Variable rewards?!

Bai Qiuyan was surprised at first, then quickly understood.

This was definitely fairer. After all, it was a group task; just like when they defeated a boss, the rewards weren’t evenly distributed, but rather based on each player’s contribution. This way, everyone would be more motivated.

However, with the NPC deciding the distribution…

I knew I had to get in Xie Shuangxue’s good graces!

Competition was a driving force for players. Not long after everyone received their task notifications, Bai Qiuyan’s expensive full-server broadcast appeared on the public screen.

“Seeking clues about the Evil Sword in Lu Yun Tower. Generous rewards offered—details in the bounty listing.”

Quick hands!

After his announcement, the guild leaders Shi Jiu Jianghu and Cherry Tomato exchanged glances, each releasing their own bounty right after.

Everyone now understood that getting closer to Xie Shuangxue was definitely beneficial.

And this wasn’t just a matter of collective rewards anymore. Bond value rewards would now depend on individual contributions. Since the Yun Ruowei storyline was essentially a contest, the assassin’s capture might yield varying levels of information.

So everyone focused on Xie Shuangxue, awaiting his next move.

Xie Shuangxue had been mulling it over. Since last night’s attempt failed, security at the Feather Clan camp had been significantly strengthened. Another attack here would be suicide. He hadn’t mentioned his bait plan to Chen Xin or Ling Luo; it was too dangerous, and they would never agree. If he wanted to lure the assassin back, he’d need to switch locations and find a more enticing lure.

“I was just about to ask, how is the search for Lord Yun’s antidote going? If I were Yun Ruowei, I wouldn’t want him to wake up, and I’d do everything possible to prevent you from obtaining the antidote.”

Last night’s events also indicated Yun Ruowei’s keen interest in Lord Yun’s situation. However, the assassin hadn’t gone to where Lord Yun was kept—probably because it wasn’t necessary.

Yun Panshan’s poisoning had spread to his lungs, leaving him with only days to live. Even with the antidote, he’d only gain a few extra days, like a fleeting spark before the end.

These two—father and son, or perhaps father and daughter—must have a complicated relationship. Yun Panshan felt guilt, while the hidden Yun Ruowei likely harbored resentment.

Xie Shuangxue couldn’t help pondering. Two potentially lethal factors afflicted Yun Panshan: the poison and a knife wound. The knife wound, according to his senior brother, matched Yun Panlong’s weapon, but why use a knife if poison had already been administered?

These must have been inflicted by different individuals. Yun Panlong was a warrior, unskilled in poisons.

The poison was likely administered by Yun Ruowei. Even if not, she would know of the condition and would never allow him to regain consciousness.

The poison trail was worth following up on. The players had previously found clues in the bamboo house, leading to three ingredients needed to save Lord Yun. The three guilds had split up to search for them.

According to their reports, two ingredients were relatively easy to obtain. One was sold at a city pharmacy, requiring a few interactive tasks with the shop owner, but nothing difficult. They expected to acquire it soon.

Another ingredient was located in a monster lair outside the city, requiring a boss fight. The boss was tough; they’d been killed the first time and would need to devise a strategy, but they were optimistic about their chances.

The last ingredient, however, was the most challenging.

“We found out that it’ll be part of a high-tier auction in a few days,” Bai Qiuyan explained. “But it’s out of our league. As Continental Wanderers, we don’t have the credentials for an invitation.”

The auction’s security was even stricter than the City Lord’s Mansion. They’d considered brute force, but they couldn’t even get close to the place.

Bai Qiuyan had been planning to discuss this with Xie Shuangxue, hoping the Feather Clan could find a way in.

Players unable to access an auction?

Perfect. They could set up an ambush there.

“We can plan the ambush for auction day,” Xie Shuangxue said. “If I go alone, it should be feasible. The location isn’t far from the City Lord’s Mansion; I’ll check the details and maps.”

Another big event was about to unfold.

After the recent escapade of smuggling Lord Yun out, Bai Qiuyan was excited at the thought of another heist. He grinned in anticipation.

First a stealth mission with Lord Yun, and now an ambush for an assassin. This was the fun of gaming!

But this operation couldn’t be rushed. The auction was still a few days away, and Xie Shuangxue hadn’t gathered all the specifics yet. Before leaving, Bai Qiuyan pulled Jiu Shen aside under the pretense of extra information.

Xie Shuangxue thought he might have some inside scoop, but Bai Qiuyan surprised him with an unexpected suggestion.

“Shuangxue, while the Feather Clan will handle what they can, what if they’re overwhelmed?” he said. “Using you as bait is one thing, but we don’t know when the assassin might strike again. What if they use a diversion tactic?”

Xie Shuangxue blinked. “You mean…?”

“I’ll organize a rotation of Whitewall Guild members to stand guard for you,” Bai Qiuyan offered. “Just let the Feather Clan guards know or give us some sort of token for entry. We’ll protect you, buy you time if necessary—this way, we can cover all bases.”

If Shi Jiu Jianghu and Cherry Tomato heard this, they’d likely tear him apart. All that pretense, when in truth, Bai Qiuyan just wanted to gain an advantage.

Rotating shifts was simple for players. If anyone was bored, they could just log out, leaving a combat alert in place. If the assassin struck, they’d get online instantly.

Now that so many players wanted to be close to Xie Shuangxue, it made sense for Bai Qiuyan to claim his spot.

Guards on rotation would work in his favor, so Xie Shuangxue didn’t mind agreeing. But he only had one pass token on him.

“Then how about we take Jiu Shen’s pass for now?” Bai Qiuyan suggested. “He doesn’t seem to need it anyway. Once this is over, I’ll return it.”

Once something fell into Bai Qiuyan’s hands, “returning” was unlikely.

Yu Haiqing realized that Bai Qiuyan held a grudge for ignoring his messages, suspecting he was monopolizing Xie Shuangxue, and now wanted his own leverage.

No way.

Before Yu Haiqing could protest, Xie Shuangxue spoke up.

“That won’t work. I already gave it to him, and…” Xie Shuangxue turned to Yu Haiqing with a warm smile, his words loaded with double meaning, “this Wanderer was the first to help me. He’s different from the others.”

Bai Qiuyan was about to argue, but Xie Shuangxue continued, “However, I can tell you’re the most skilled Wanderer here, better than the rest.”

Well, of course!

“I trust you completely with this,” Xie Shuangxue added. “It may be difficult, but I’ll ask my brother for another pass. You’re also a special person to me, so I have faith in you.”

Bai Qiuyan, thoroughly flattered and getting what he wanted, left on cloud nine.

He’d heard that once bond value surpassed 50, the NPC would remember the player’s name.

Hehehe…

Yu Haiqing, watching Bai Qiuyan’s elation, found him rather pathetic—a prime example of someone completely entranced by Xie Shuangxue. He was about to log out when Bai Qiuyan stopped him.

“Hold up,” Bai Qiuyan said, arms crossed. “It’s been ages since we last saw each other, and you’re always rushing off. How about a private chat?”

Lowering his voice, Bai Qiuyan added, “Mr. Yu?”

Yu Haiqing met his gaze without surprise, checked the time, and followed him.

They slipped out of the quest line, returning to the real-world timeline for players. In a quiet corner of Whitewall Guild, the two sat down, silence settling between them.

“So, it’s just the two of us. No need for the mask?” Bai Qiuyan asked.

In this full-simulation game, players could adjust facial features and physique, but the base resemblance was still present. Yu Haiqing’s character typically wore a mask to hide the lower half of his face, but now he removed it.

One glance and Bai Qiuyan was certain.

A year and a half ago, Bai Qiuyan had suspected it—ever since the scandal with Jiu Shen’s account. There’d been a public outcry, and several high-spending players questioned game fairness. Gou Yuan, Head of Game Development, had stepped in to calm the situation, personally sharing data and gameplay logs to prove there was no foul play, which finally put the matter to rest.

Though Gou Yuan never confirmed Jiu Shen’s identity, Bai Qiuyan had deduced it.

Yu Haiqing was known for keeping a low profile, with only a few photos circulating among his fans. Bai Qiuyan, having met him in person multiple times, had recognized certain mannerisms and habits that no amount of cosmetic adjustments could mask.

“I didn’t think you’d come back to the game,” Bai Qiuyan said with a smirk. “So, tell me—did you really not pull any strings for Xie Shuangxue?”

“I entered the City Lord’s Mansion on my own. I solved the bamboo formation, and the pass was given to me by Xie Shuangxue himself. You saw it,” Yu Haiqing replied calmly. “Jealousy is an ugly trait, Bai Qiuyan.”

“Fine, fine, you’re the best.”

But Bai Qiuyan wasn’t here to bicker. “Be honest—did you implement some new algorithm or data structure with Xie Shuangxue? Something I wouldn’t understand, technically speaking.”

“I have to admit, SEA didn’t have this kind of capability before. Now, seeing it, I’m envious. Sell me this technology, name your price.”

Bai Qiuyan and Bai Qiuheng were well-known heirs of the Bai family, a leading tech company in the alliance. Bai Qiuyan was set to take over the family’s AI division, focusing on interactive robots, and improving their conversational abilities was a major area of research.

“Forget it,” Yu Haiqing refused outright. “Not happening.”

Bai Qiuyan had expected this. Knowing Yu Haiqing’s decisiveness, he knew arguing would be pointless.

“Then does your company have any Xie Shuangxue merchandise in the works? Maybe a character model for sale? I’d pay whatever you ask,” Bai Qiuyan insisted. “Come on, you’re missing out on a great business opportunity.”

Yu Haiqing shot him a sideways glance. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Tch, stingy.” Bai Qiuyan grumbled, disappointed. “You just want Xie Shuangxue all to yourself.”

Yu Haiqing didn’t argue but kept to himself things he hadn’t shared.

He might not have any in-game hacks, but as CEO, he had access to far more information than the average player, even more than Xie Shuangxue himself.

That night, when Xie Shuangxue issued his first task, there had been an alert. To players, it looked like a brief system lag that quickly resolved. Xie Shuangxue, aware of the alarm, saw it as an unexpected system access, but for Yu Haiqing, it was something entirely different.

As he’d told Gou Yuan, he had fixed a bug at the time. But in reality, the few seconds during the alarm weren’t nearly enough to patch such a significant bug.

He had been prepared for it.

When Xie Shuangxue went out that night, Yu Haiqing knew.

He’d anticipated that this NPC would stir up something unusual, allowing him to implement the patch in time.

But Xie Shuangxue’s reactions and decisions had exceeded his expectations. He’d known it wouldn’t follow the original plot, but he hadn’t imagined that this NPC would go to such lengths.

The next day, Yu Haiqing didn’t rely on the control console but instead accessed the complete system records.

Game developers typically relied on the control console, a summary of backend data. Viewing the full log meant wading through massive volumes of raw data, which only Yu Haiqing had the patience for.

He spent a long time reviewing it.

Xie Shuangxue had always been a special NPC, but Yu Haiqing finally understood why.

Xie Shuangxue was unique.

This was a secret only he knew.

Neither Bai Qiuyan nor anyone else truly understood the real Xie Shuangxue.

“Fair enough, you’re impressive. I tried playing Dreamscape’s new game, but it wasn’t the same. My family invested heavily in Dreamscape, yet here I am, back in Gods and Demons, spending money,” Bai Qiuyan sighed, shifting the topic. “My father still praises you. Actually, he’s hoping to see you again at an upcoming gala…”

Yu Haiqing cut him off. “I’ll pass. I have no connection with your family.”

“Don’t say that,” Bai Qiuyan replied. “After all, you were Mr. Bai’s prized student, like a son to him.”

If Mr. Bai were still alive, the world of VR gaming would be entirely different, and Yu Haiqing’s journey wouldn’t have been so difficult.

But Yu Haiqing refused to continue, logging out immediately.

“Stubborn as ever,” Bai Qiuyan muttered, then mumbled to himself, “… Are they really not planning any Xie Shuangxue merch?”

This NPC was fascinating—much better than dealing with his family business affairs. He was genuinely happier talking to Xie Shuangxue than anyone else.

Endless Sea, what a clueless company—didn’t they understand how to make money?