Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH98

Chapter 98

East Capital was considered the first stop for foreigners entering the C-Nation, and this year happened to be the first year of the “foreign independent content creators” boom. As soon as Jiang Jitang stepped out, there were foreigners everywhere in sight.

Did I go abroad?

He only came back to his senses when he saw signboards written in C-Nation characters.

Looking closer, he noticed that besides the abnormally high number of foreigners, there were also way too many players.

In his daily life in Jin City, a second-tier city, he mostly encountered ordinary people. This was the first time he had seen such a terrifying ratio—one out of every ten people was a player.

Players live between life and death. Their eyes, aura, even habitual movements are very different from regular people—easy to recognize.

In contrast, Jiang Jitang looked nothing like a player. He was way too relaxed.

This was actually the fault of the university players. They were having such a high-profile meet-up in the East Capital, and it just happened to be summer break, so university student players from all over the country had come.

Everyone knows university students—they fear nothing. Small gatherings were fine, but big gatherings increased the likelihood of triggering events. It was even possible for someone to get carried away and start chopping people with in-game items.

Because of this, East Capital had strengthened player management these past few days.

“Truly worthy of being an international metropolis.” Unaware of the real reason, Jiang Jitang sighed. He thought maybe East Capital was just naturally attractive to players.

Parsons, however, understood the situation. He didn’t intentionally gather info, but what he needed to know always found its way to him. Still, he felt none of this had anything to do with him or Jiang Jitang.

The two happily slipped into an alley to look for good food. To match Jiang Jitang, Parsons was wearing a cool, stylish athletic outfit today—of course, still in dark tones.

Just like local university students, the two of them looked fresh-faced, full of clarity and collagen, bright as the 9 a.m. sun. And with such enthusiasm in their greetings, the uncle and auntie running the eatery happily gave them extra spoonfuls.

The environment in the East Capital was truly great. Trees with lush branches lined the roads, and walking under the shade, they didn’t feel any of the summer heat. They ate, drank, wandered, stopped, and just like that, the afternoon passed.

They eventually walked all the way to the Bund, letting the breeze wash over them, watching the sunset at the edge of the sky. Jiang Jitang casually took a few photos—the pink gemstone on his phone reflecting a soft glow, as beautiful as the clouds.

“Luckily we came out these past few days. The weather forecast says there’s a tropical cyclone forming over the sea. If it turns into a typhoon, East Capital will be affected.”

Bang.

His joy didn’t last even two minutes before a subtle cracking sound rang by his ear.

Brilliant clouds disperse easily, glass shatters at a touch—good things and joyous times never last long, just like his current mood.

“Time to work.” Jiang Jitang pulled Parsons backward. They passed through a narrow wall, and a golden teleportation passage expanded at the end.

Parsons sensed the residual tremor of power as he was dragged into a pitch-black channel. He didn’t even have time to ask how a magical portal was appearing here—or how Jiang Jitang was even using magic.

Crafting magical items and directly using magic were two completely different things.

At the East Capital official organization office building.

“Vice Minister?” Jiang Xingzhou, who had been shaken by the aftermath of a powerful game item, was still in shock when black vortexes appeared through the dust. Jiang Jitang and Parsons emerged.

“Minister, are you alright?” Jiang Jitang saw the beads scattered on the ground—the Minister’s prayer bracelet had broken.

But Han Shuo and Old Zhang were fine—they weren’t here.

He picked up one bead, and light flashed in his palm. A small magic array covered it, extracting causality, locking onto the target’s aura. “Parsons, you’re good at chasing and catching. I’ll trouble you this time.”

As expected, he knew—and has been waiting for this moment. Parsons thought. But he didn’t ask anything. He picked up the bead and headed out. The Red-Eyed Black Dragon ring on his finger transformed into a toy-like gun.

As soon as Parsons left, Jiang Jitang’s straight posture relaxed. He took a deep breath and pulled out a hard candy made from mulberry jam, biting into it.

Completely exhausted. Time-space jump really drains magic. Almost embarrassed himself—thank goodness he held it together.

There were more than ten people present—likely heads of other sub-regions attending a meeting. They were all urgently making or answering calls. The most frantic one was likely the East Capital head.

“Protection tools failed? All the protective items failed?”

Looking around, Jiang Jitang was surprised to see the main structure of the building was intact. Though dust filled the air and the front door was slightly deformed, everything else looked fine.

It hurt people but not structures—able to bypass protective tools, and with alarming destructive power.

No wonder in the prophecy Minister Jiang suffered an accident. Something from the Cube World actually bypassed all protective items?

“I’m fine. Fortunately, I brought the newly released high-level protective tool. From what you’re saying, none of the other protective tools worked? Was it a newly released tier-nine sub-instance item?”

Jiang Xingzhou had already realized the prayer beads were high-grade items—because that light barrier had protected all ten-plus people without even a hair being harmed.

But that raised another question. Why did everyone else’s protective tools fail, while this one worked? And why were these kinds of tools appearing in batches?

Thinking further—could it be that Jiang Jitang could craft game items?

There had been no reports of players successfully crafting tools themselves. If word got out…

Just imagining it made the situation feel troublesome. So Minister Jiang blurred the origin of the protective tool, and she had no intention of revealing Jiang Jitang’s identity.

Being attacked inside the player building? She had serious doubts about the capability of the East Capital head.

Weakling. Stay away from our Jin City treasure!

“I’ll account for this properly,” the East Capital player organization head said after hanging up. He was a man in his forties or fifties, wearing glasses.

“Now’s not the time to pursue responsibility. With such a massive explosion—how are the others?”

“The perpetrator hasn’t been caught yet, but initial assessment suggests the use of a sound-wave bomb-type cube item. Sound weapons damage people without damaging objects and can bypass barriers. Cube items can have similar effects.

“There are no domestic records of this. It’s likely a newly released tier-nine sub-instance item.

“We failed to consider that Cube items could also get updated.

“The target was the young players gathering on the seventh floor, but sound-wave bombs exert full-range deterrence, so even we on the ninth floor were affected.

“Fortunately, it seems limited to this building. No impact on ordinary citizens.”

The East Capital head’s expression was grim. “Healers have already gone to the seventh floor. The specifics—we’ll know soon.” Though he already had a bad feeling.

Minister Jiang’s expression subtly changed. There are two kinds of sound-wave bombs—one triggers brain resonance, the other causes violent internal organ vibrations. Either way, the damage is severe.

They weren’t even at the blast center and nearly lost everyone. What would it be like at the core?

“How many players on the seventh floor?”

“According to the registry, 767 people—mostly young players from the nation’s top universities. 592 tier-five, 133 tier-six, 36 tier-seven, 6 tier-eight.”

“Mostly?” Minister Jiang caught the word.

“A small number are students studying abroad, as well as players from foreign universities.” The more the middle-aged man spoke, the worse he felt. He was beginning to suspect this was a trap designed by a hostile organization targeting C-Nation.

The new generation of C-Nation players—now involving foreigners.

He had purposely opened the player building to the public to prevent trouble, yet the worst-case scenario still happened.

Players from top universities, all above tier-five—meaning high intelligence and strong learning ability. Truly the rising force of Xia’s player community.

Jiang Jitang pulled Minister Jiang aside. “I’m going.”

It wasn’t a question—it was a statement.

“No problem?” Minister Jiang leaned toward supporting him. Even if he hadn’t spoken, she would have asked. With so many young people, they couldn’t let them all die here.

With an attack of this level, she didn’t expect zero casualties. They just had to save whoever they could.

“I’m only handling the rescue.” Jiang Jitang walked toward the passage. “Aftercare is up to you.”

Aftercare? Minister Jiang found the word suggestive, but before she could figure it out, Jiang Jitang was gone.

Player Building, Seventh Floor

Dusk was falling, and the hall—large enough to hold nearly a thousand people—was filled with screams, sobs, and deranged laughter.

The explosion came suddenly. No one was prepared. Most players had protective tools, but somehow, the explosion bypassed every bit of protection.

They were practically exposed directly to a devastating sonic attack.

Only a very small number survived due to strong physical resilience and effective protection items. But even they were affected, their brains dizzy, unable to stand, lying on the floor trying to recover.

Players who faced the full force of the sound wave lay on the ground in agony, feeling like their brains were shredded. Vomiting and dizziness were the mildest symptoms.

More severe cases were already unconscious—some even dead.

Others had fallen into terrifying hallucinations, acting irrationally.

Due to the Cube item, fear attributes were attached, and players’ mental stability plummeted to a dangerously low point.

Players with healing tools were trying to use them—but with minimal effect.

It looked like the enemy used a high-tier cube item… Those sensing their life force fading looked utterly devastated.

Suddenly, something glowing appeared beneath their feet.

“Am I hallucinating?” one player lying on the ground murmured.

He must be hallucinating—why was there a glowing magic array on the floor? It wasn’t Bagua, nor any foreign constellation—just constantly changing strange symbols.

But how could a hallucination ease the violent pain in his brain?

It felt so comfortable—like he was floating.

Huh?

At the center of the enormous formation stood a person. Tall, thin, a man. A miniature magic array hovered at his fingertips, something on his wrist was glowing.

Who is that?

And how could he look that cool?

He looked closely—and froze.

Parsons was carrying a player who was already lifeless—the one at the very center of the explosion, the instigator of the incident.

He exchanged a long-distance glance with Jiang Jitang.

With a flick, Jiang Jitang pulled the bloodline of the not-quite-dead perpetrator back. Parsons carried him out. No words were exchanged—no need. They understood each other.

We must finish quickly. Jiang Jitang rotated the magic array in his hand. Heal stacked upon heal. The formation’s glow surged.

A player who had long since lost vital signs suddenly moved. An invisible force supported his heart into beating again. Blood began flowing. He jolted upright and coughed out a clump of semi-coagulated blood.

“What happened?” he said, sitting up—then even stood. “Huh? What’s going on?”

Another player’s pupils shrank. He’d checked earlier—this person had no breathing, no heartbeat, no pulse at the neck.

This wasn’t shock—it was death.

Dead. And revived?

“What’s going on? My severed finger is restored?!” someone shouted joyfully.

The glowing formation had disappeared long ago, the young man at the center gone like something from a dream, leaving no trace.

More and more players stood up in confusion—checking themselves over. Nothing wrong. In fact, nothing wrong at all—previous injuries healed, negative statuses gone—as if they’d taken immortal elixirs.

Because the explosion happened so suddenly, many players didn’t even realize what was happening before they passed out—or even died—so only upon waking did they realize they’d been attacked.

But since East Capital had apparently brought in a top-tier healer, their bodies were completely restored. Even old injuries were gone.

“A blessing in disguise?” Players were dumbfounded. Having been attacked and then rescued by a powerhouse—it had been a truly intense day.

“Damn, where is that guy? The super cool one who stood right there.” A tier-seven player asked. He had vaguely seen the magic array and the person at the center. Couldn’t see clearly—but “cool” was a feeling.

“He’s gone. That was the healer sent by East Capital.” Said one of the few players who remained conscious during the attack—the one who had personally confirmed the “resurrection”—but he said nothing more. The matter was too serious. Who knew what kinds of people were mixed in among them.

“He really healed everyone? So many people… East Capital has someone that strong?”

A few East Capital healers were present—they hadn’t gone home yet, so they rushed over after the explosion. But what happened here had nothing to do with them. East Capital didn’t have a healer of that level.

Over seven hundred people, all restored to full life on the spot—could a human even do that?

“I heard there was a meeting today, with leaders from other regions. Maybe the healer was brought by them?”

“That’s too outrageous. One formation restoring over seven hundred dying players to full status—not even the one from Jin City could do that, right? What level of healing tool is that? Could it be from headquarters?”

“There must be massive restrictions. I saw a few who had no signs of life—they’d gone into shock—but now they’re fine.”

The healers didn’t even imagine “resurrection.” They assumed it was unconsciousness or shock.

Either way, no casualties meant the incident could be minimized. The healers collectively let out a long sigh of relief.

Another group of officials arrived. They were originally here to offer emotional support, but the players’ spirits were unexpectedly high—not only were there no complaints, they were energetically asking about the healer’s identity and refusing to leave.

But they had to. After registration and signing non-disclosure agreements, they were escorted out of the player building.

All non-internal personnel were gone. Doors shut. Lights off. Curtains drawn.

Several regional heads approached the player who sat in the chair—an “Erdangzi” player who had set off the bomb with a death wish, but failed to die: …

What followed was interrogation—definitely not suitable for children.