Chapter 158
After some time in the hall, Lu Chuan finally managed to gather a few scraps of information.
On the latest Newcomer Rankings, a genius player of the Abyss Guild—one called Phorcys—seemed to have fallen into some kind of trouble.
Ever since Cynthia, Lu Chuan, Lilus, and Messiah had all climbed from the Newcomer Rankings to the Master Rankings within just a year or two, the newcomer list had gained far more weight.
Where once an A-rank player could easily make it into the overall rankings, now even A-ranks couldn’t break the top ten. The five major guilds had been pouring resources into training newcomers.
Even Lu Chuan, as part of the Star Guild, often taught lessons to promising new players in his free time.
Phorcys, currently ranked third among newcomers—just behind Scale of Rebirth from the Resurrection Guild and Little Me from the Star Guild—was considered one of the Abyss Guild’s brightest hopes.
Rumor had it his abilities were extremely unusual with great potential. He had taken as his mentor not Wen Zhi, but another vice guildmaster of the guild named Guan Hong.
Guan Hong handled internal affairs, while Wen Zhi was responsible for external dealings.
That was why Lu Chuan had chosen to investigate Guan Hong’s side—because in matters of economics, it was the internal specialists who mattered.
“Minister, so far we’ve only found out that after leaving a dungeon, Phorcys suddenly fell into a deep sleep. No amount of items worked to wake him, and even players with healing abilities found nothing wrong. If this continues, he’s finished. The Abyss Guild is already contacting Master players to see if they can help.”
So reported one of Lu Chuan’s men.
Since rising to the Master-Rank Leaderboard himself, Lu Chuan had given himself a new title.
“Chief Financial Officer” no longer suited him. Now, he called himself Minister, and had spun off the entire financial system into its own powerful department within the Star Guild.
“There are only thirty or forty Master players in the Abyss Guild,” Lu Chuan mused. “And of those, only a handful are still active. Wen Zhi is one of them. Why hasn’t Guan Hong gone to Wen Zhi?”
After all, Wen Zhi was a master-rank within the Abyss Guild. Why go searching elsewhere?
“They say Guan Hong and Wen Zhi have been rivals for years,” the man explained. “Unless there’s absolutely no other choice, Guan Hong would never turn to Wen Zhi.”
“Figures. The accountant and the spender are bound to clash.” Lu Chuan nodded knowingly. “In that case, I’ll have to pay the Abyss Guild a visit. If I can find a way to wake Phorcys, Guan Hong won’t be able to refuse my conditions. A win-win deal—why would he say no?”
What Lu Chuan lacked now was just the right opportunity to establish ties with the Abyss Guild.
If Guan Hong agreed, and Wen Zhi didn’t object, then this plan had every chance of succeeding.
And besides, Lu Chuan wasn’t planning to enter any dungeons for the time being anyway.
Although Cang Jiu said to gather the world’s fortune, wouldn’t it be better to first consolidate the wealth in the real world, and then move on to starting ventures in the dungeon worlds? Step by step, so as not to get flustered when the time comes.
“Minister, Starry Ming seems to have recently gotten word from the Chairman. He’s frantically diving into dungeons to search.” One of his subordinates was worried. “Minister, should we intervene? For example, cut off their cash flow first?”
As long as Starry Ming’s cash flow was cut off, no matter how little he cared about money himself, his followers would riot. In that case, Starry Ming could forget about calmly clearing dungeons—after all, the people he had recruited weren’t exactly loyal out of goodwill.
They had joined for profit, and once that profit was damaged, naturally they wouldn’t remain as loyal as before.
Lu Chuan’s subordinates, however, were different. Their jobs, their homes, even their children’s education and future were all tightly bound to Lu Chuan’s “chariot.” If Lu Chuan failed to rise, everything they possessed would vanish. So in truth, they worried even more than Lu Chuan himself about whether he would succeed.
“The Chairman isn’t that easy to find.” Lu Chuan waved his hand. “Even if he’s found, whether Starry Ming can actually meet him is another matter. It’s still early. We can’t reveal our strength too soon.”
Lu Chuan really wasn’t worried that Starry Ming would find Chairman Wen Renxu before him. After all, even Cang Jiu had said Wen Renxu was under the watch of Executor Number 6, and Chen Ji said the series of dungeons Wen Renxu was trapped in were troublesome. When both of them used the word “troublesome,” and Cang Jiu even urged him to condense a seed first before going, it was clear how dangerous those dungeons were. Under such conditions, Starry Ming’s efforts were meaningless.
There was no need for Lu Chuan to lift a finger.
“Yes.” Seeing Lu Chuan’s calm confidence, his men relaxed. As long as he stayed this self-assured, they too could feel at ease.
Lu Chuan said he wanted to visit the Abyss Guild, so arrangements were made at once.
This time, Lu Chuan went under the pretext of a “study visit,” officially as part of an exchange program—all expenses reimbursed.
He even brought Shen Li, Shasha, and Edith along, treating it as a free group trip.
Shen Li hadn’t intended to go—he’d been to the Abyss Guild many times already. But since Wang Feng might speak rudely to Lu Chuan, Shen Li decided he had to go save Wang Feng’s life. That fool—losing equipment was one thing, but losing his life as well would be too much.
On the way, Shen Li talked a lot about the Abyss Guild.
True to its name, the Abyss Guild’s headquarters were deep underground. Inside their subterranean city were artificial suns and stars, resembling a massive hive. The guild’s internal structure was entirely military, with ranks divided strictly. Every player’s contributions were measured in points; reaching a certain number allowed promotion and privileges. Likewise, breaking rules meant losing points.
Among the five great guilds, the Abyss Guild was the strictest, with the lowest turnover.
Take Wen Zhi, for instance. As vice-chairman, he was already at the rank of General. Apart from the Chairman, who held the title of Marshal, Wen Zhi was at the highest rank.
Wang Feng, meanwhile, was still only a Major General. For years, he had tried to break into the Master-Ranking, but always fell just short of luck.
The Star Guild had already contacted the Abyss Guild in advance. When they heard Lu Chuan was coming, everyone in Abyss Guild tensed up.
And no wonder—Lu Chuan’s reputation was sky-high recently.
Suddenly arriving at their guild outside of any holiday or event? It seemed suspicious no matter how you looked at it.
But since he was already on the way, they couldn’t refuse him. With Lu Chuan’s current status, doing so would spark a diplomatic incident between the two guilds. They had no choice but to accept.
The Abyss Guild’s ordinary players, however, were excited.
“I heard Lu Chuan is really coming?”
“Wow, he’s the fastest-rising, most legendary player in years!”
“If he were in our guild, he’d already be a Lieutenant General.”
“A lieutenant general in his early twenties, unbelievable.”
“I wonder what he’s coming here for this time?”
…
Such were the casual speculations of the rank-and-file, but for the Abyss Guildmastership, there was much more to consider.
“I asked Xingchen’s vice-chairman, and he said Lu Chuan just wants to do business with us. But what business, he didn’t know.” Guan Hong glanced around at his old comrades, unable to hold back. “What kind of deal could our Abyss Guild possibly make with him? Do you know?”
Though he asked everyone, his gaze landed on Wen Zhi.
Among them, only Wen Zhi had any prior contact with Lu Chuan. They suspected Lu Chuan had come specifically for him.
“I only met him once, and hardly exchanged any words.” Wen Zhi replied calmly. “I think he’s probably after some resource of ours, just like with the Ocean Heart Guild. He wants to trade. Lu Chuan is a genius in economic management. He’s only been handling Star Guild’s finances for two or three years, but their finances are several times better than before. The ordinary people and low-level players there are living better lives, which has also raised the quality of their recruits. This time, the rookie ranked second on the Newcomer Leaderboard—‘Little Me’—also came from Star Guild’s ordinary population!”
In fact, ever since guild systems had taken shape, player quotas had basically been controlled by the guilds.
The ratio of players to ordinary people was kept at 1:2 or 1:1. When player numbers dropped, guilds would immediately replenish them from their reserves.
In the early stages, guilds would recruit bright children from their players’ families or orphans they raised, teaching them dungeon knowledge and training them physically. Once they matured, they became reserve players, ready to replace any losses. Only when losses were too high and reserves couldn’t keep up would random ordinary people get selected as players.
Before that, the best an ordinary person could do was perform well and hope to get chosen as a reserve.
But once Lu Chuan started economic reforms in Star Guild, everything changed.
He sold houses in the Golden Luxury Estate, letting ordinary children study alongside players’ children, sometimes even inviting powerful players to lecture.
Meanwhile, the guild’s player slots were given priority to these children. “Little Me” was one of them.
As a result, Lu Chuan’s reputation soared. Housing prices in Golden Luxury rose daily, still unable to meet demand.
“I think he’s actually here for you, General Guan.” Wen Zhi said coolly. “You’ve been seeking strong players to deal with Funeus, and word has spread. Lu Chuan arriving now might be to solve your biggest headache. You should look forward to it.”
“Funeus’ abilities are similar to the Chairman’s. With proper cultivation, he’ll shine someday.” Guan Hong retorted bluntly. “And you—you still refuse to take students. You’re the one who’s not considering the guild’s future.”
The meeting ended sourly in their quarrel.
But once calmer, Guan Hong realized Lu Chuan probably was here for him and Funeus.
If Lu Chuan wanted to do business with their guild, he would have to get past him first.
So be it.
If Lu Chuan could really bring Funeus back, business deals wouldn’t matter.
It’s not like he didn’t know—back then, Wen Zhi had struck a deal with Lu Chuan, keeping all of Xi Jiangyuan’s legacy for himself, raising several strong confidants, while the Abyss Guild got nothing.
Before Xi Jiangyuan’s dungeon opened, Wen Zhi had insisted their guild players stay out. Yet he himself slipped in, retrieved the entire legacy, and never turned in a single piece to the guild. To Guan Hong, that was pure selfishness. He had no interest in siding with Wen Zhi.
As for Lu Chuan, who had unknowingly sparked a quarrel between two generals—he was happily sightseeing.
“Wow, Shasha, look! This outfit really suits you. Buy a few and try them out.”
“This weapon’s not bad either, Edith. You could forge something similar—so cool!”
…
Near the Abyss Guild headquarters, there were also many underground cities.
Strictly speaking, these were branch guilds, though unlike headquarters, they didn’t stay underground year-round. Sometimes they lived on the surface, even selling goods.
Maybe because of their lifestyle, Abyss Guild’s aesthetics leaned toward dark tones—luxurious yet understated, incredibly stylish.
After looking around, Lu Chuan even thought about inviting one of their designers to draft a “dark edition” of his Golden Tower.
Sometimes, you needed a few unique buildings—maybe they’d become landmarks.
Shen Li hadn’t expected that Lu Chuan would actually take on a full-on tourist’s attitude and start playing around. In the end, he had no choice but to tag along, and they played so much that he almost forgot what he’d come here for in the first place.
Soon enough, Guan Hong’s men found Lu Chuan and his group.
“Our general already has some guesses about your intentions. If you’ve truly come here for [Funeus], then we welcome you…” Guan Hong’s personal guard briefly conveyed his general’s message.
In short, if Lu Chuan really intended to do business with them and could cure [Funeus], then everything would be negotiable. But if not, they’d still be willing to show hospitality and ensure Lu Chuan and his companions enjoyed themselves.
Lu Chuan played along and said he had indeed come for [Funeus]—but insisted on checking the situation first, keeping his words vague.
At the same time, he subtly probed into what exactly was wrong with [Funeus] so he could prescribe the right remedy.
“[Funeus] has remained in a deep sleep, though his body is still in good condition. We’ve been giving him nutrient injections to keep him stable for now. But in other respects, he’s completely unresponsive. No matter what items we use, there’s no effect.”
“What about S-rank items?” Lu Chuan pressed.
The guard immediately shook his head. “Impossible. [Funeus] is only at colonel-level. He has no right to use S-rank items. Even A-rank items were already a special exception. That’s how our guild rules work—your contribution determines your benefits. We can’t break this system lightly. Besides, when we first established the rules, we tested it: the higher the grade of the item, the harsher the side effects. Forcing a high-rank item on a lower-ranked body might save them temporarily, but the side effects could be devastating.”
The Abyss Guild had always operated this way. If every sick member could be healed with S-rank items, they’d have run out of them long ago.
Although Guan Hong wanted to save his student, he had to think of the guild’s long-term stability.
Once the rules were broken, there’d be no end to people demanding exceptions.
Even the children of top guild executives had been denied over-tier rescues when they neared death in dungeons, so naturally [Funeus] wouldn’t be treated differently.
But if Lu Chuan healed [Funeus] as an outsider, then the rules didn’t apply.
Whatever price had to be paid, Guan Hong himself would pay it personally, not the guild.
Lu Chuan nodded. “I’ll still need to take a look first.”
Later, he planned to have #888 run a scan to see exactly what the issue was.
When he arrived at the underground headquarters, Lu Chuan couldn’t help but marvel at humanity’s achievements.
Such a massive underground city, yet still so magnificent—it was like something out of a game.
Unfortunately, time was limited, so sightseeing would have to wait until after he’d met Guan Hong and [Funeus].
“So, you’re Lu Chuan? Younger than I expected.” Guan Hong had seen photos of him, but photos could always be enhanced these days. In person, Lu Chuan was even more unfathomable.
Though he looked young, his calm expression showed he wouldn’t be swayed by anyone’s status.
Guan Hong wore a military uniform, and all his guards behind him were likewise dressed and clearly high-level players. Surrounded as he was, Guan Hong’s ordinary looks carried an undeniable aura of authority.
The presence was impressive.
Still, compared to Guan Hong’s uniform, the long coats worn by the Executors like Cang Jiu looked more stylish.
Truly, fashion depended on the face.
“You flatter me, General.” Lu Chuan politely adjusted his address. “I’m still young and have much to learn from you. Coming to the Abyss Guild this time has been eye-opening.”
After some polite exchanges, Guan Hong led him to his office.
In the underground city, housing was assigned and applied for. To better manage his work, Guan Hong had expanded his office and living quarters into one, with the first floor for work and the second for rest—a true workaholic setup.
Since [Funeus] was his student, he naturally kept him at home to ensure the best treatment.
Lu Chuan walked up to the bed, where a young boy lay quietly, breathing evenly, as though simply asleep.
“His real name is Yu Cheng. He’s only 17. Both of his parents were colonel-level players and teammates, but they perished together in a dungeon, leaving him an orphan. Afterward, he worked hard, awakened his ability during his very first dungeon, and landed straight on the rookie leaderboard. Though only ranked twentieth, for someone his age it was remarkable.” Guan Hong’s voice softened slightly as he spoke of his student. “He shouldn’t be lying here like this.”
“Little System, take a look. What’s going on?” Lu Chuan called out to #888 in his mind.
[Please wait, host.] Of course, #888 wouldn’t miss a chance to show off.
After a quick scan, it delivered its verdict:
[Host, this person’s spirit has likely been taken by a god. His ability seems unusual, but I’ll need a deeper scan to know more. Half his soul isn’t here, so technically he isn’t sick—but he’ll never wake up like this.]
“I tried many methods,” Guan Hong added, echoing #888’s findings, “and finally a master-ranked player told me Yu Cheng’s condition resembled being chosen by a god. If he was deceived into thinking he was still in a dungeon, or had already returned to reality, then he’d remain trapped like this. No healing item would help. The key is to bring his soul back, to make that god release him. That’s why I wanted to contact the top players. Only they might…”
Before Guan Hong finished, Lu Chuan had already placed his hand on Yu Cheng’s forehead.
[Yes, host. Just like that. The god who took his soul is weak—it’s just troublesome to locate. But since you’ve already condensed a divine seed and your soul has been divinized, your higher godhood utterly suppresses low-level gods.]
The moment Lu Chuan’s hand touched Yu Cheng’s forehead, everyone heard what seemed like a scream.
The next second, Yu Cheng opened his eyes.
Even Lu Chuan was stunned.
Seriously, bro? I didn’t even do anything yet, and you’re already down?
