Chapter 83
The aircraft roared overhead, dropping supply crates across the map.
As soon as one hit the ground, an ambusher darted out, grabbed the package, and sprinted away.
While running, he ripped it open, keeping only the food and weapons he needed. The rest he tossed aside as bait for other scavengers.
This method had worked for him several days straight. With enough speed and restraint, he almost never failed.
But today felt different.
The pursuers behind him ignored the discarded items, chasing relentlessly. Worse, he heard footsteps ahead—more enemies closing in.
Forced, the player veered left.
But soon realized he’d chosen wrong.
On the hill stood a woman wielding a massive sword. Even at a distance, her presence was overwhelming, her hawk-like gaze sharp enough to pierce, her blade’s swing splitting the air with a thunderous sound.
I can’t beat her.
By the time he realized it, retreat was impossible—he was surrounded.
“I’ll drop the loot, just let me go.” He threw down the package and raised a weapon resembling a bomb. “Take the stuff. I won’t touch it. But if you don’t let me leave, I’ll blow us all up. Without defensive gear, you’ll either die or be crippled. And in this dungeon, crippling is as good as death. You know that.”
It was this doomsday device that had allowed him to survive for days.
Yet now, seeing the ring of figures close in, he began to doubt if it would save him.
“We don’t mean you harm.” The people encircling him smiled. “We never kill unprovoked. We’re just here to point you toward a better path.”
“Forget it. I work alone.” The player shook his head. Clearly, he’d been scouted by many groups already and wasn’t about to join one now.
After all, he had seen what happened to those who did—players and NPCs alike, their corpses piling up soon after.
“They never force anyone to join their team. They just want you to know how good it is to be part of them,” the people surrounding him said with smiles.
They had the lone man trapped in the middle, but none of them made a move to attack.
A few others calmly gathered the supplies he had dropped. Someone produced a stone slab from who-knows-where, smeared grease on it, and lit a fire beneath. They sliced bread from the supply pack and laid the slices on the slab to fry. Soon the air was filled with a mouth-watering aroma.
When the bread was done, they opened a can of meat, fried that too, and layered the meat with the bread into simple sandwiches.
And so it went, from daytime into the night.
This group was either eating well, or on their way to eating well.
But the poor man in the middle was miserable.
If he wanted to drink water, he had to put down the bomb in his hand.
But once he put it down, he couldn’t be sure whether this group around him would drop their food and attack.
So he could only starve and dehydrate, locked in a stalemate with them.
Inside, he grew hungrier and thirstier, while those surrounding him rotated shifts, rested in turns, sang, danced, ate, and drank. To an outsider, it would look like they were having a party.
Oh, and in between eating and drinking, they kept chattering away.
Things like:
“In our group, we never force anyone to join. We only let people join of their own free will.”
“We don’t believe in violence, we just want to survive to the end.”
“So-and-so before, so powerful—ended up dying horribly.”
“If you join us, there’s someone in charge of logistics and meals. Stability comes first. Three meals a day, never skipped.”
“Our leader is generous. Every new member receives a weapon first thing.”
Their words were so earnest that the lone player was left stunned.
Really? Was this for real?
Could there really be such a good deal?
Unable to hold back, he asked, “Your team’s conditions are really that good? Why?”
“Of course. Because our leader is wise and resourceful. He trades water with other groups.”
“Our leader is clever. Early on, we traded away all our food and weapons for water. He figured out that while each supply pack has different items, the overall categories are fixed. For example, if this pack has extra bottles of water, then others will have less. That means we can profit on the difference.”
“As long as we monopolized water for a few days, they were helpless.”
“Of course, some tried to rob us. But we have Edith—and Edith fights!”
…
Everyone chimed in, one after another, lifting Lu Chuan’s reputation to the heavens.
Edith just held her sword in silence.
Their team had grown to over fifty people now, split into groups. Each group was guarded by the strongest fighter, while the others handled “brainwashing” lone players or NPCs.
The team’s growth depended entirely on Lu Chuan’s cunning and shamelessness.
If water sources could be monopolized, they monopolized them. If not, they destroyed them so no one else could use them.
If others had water in their packs, they poisoned it or tampered with it somehow. The target was always water.
You can go days without food, but not without water.
When lone players or NPCs ran out, that’s when this group would “perform” by drinking openly in front of them.
At that point, resistance usually crumbled.
And then came the group brainwashing.
They didn’t talk about winning championships or killing enemies—too grand and abstract. Their pitch was simple: follow us, you’ll have food and water, and you’ll live. Very down-to-earth. Once someone joined, they were taught to recruit others the same way. In the process of indoctrinating outsiders, they slowly indoctrinated themselves as well.
In such a brutal survival environment, having a safe place to eat and sleep was like an oasis in the desert. It broke down defenses easily and won total loyalty.
Edith hadn’t understood at first, but gradually she realized: not everyone had strong willpower. Not everyone was unshakable.
Lu Chuan never targeted people who already had teams—only the loners, because they were easier to sway.
And in case of emergencies, they needed a powerhouse to correct any situation.
That role, of course, fell to Edith.
Following Lu Chuan, she had tried every dirty trick imaginable. Her worldview was crumbling—she even wondered if her whole past life had been a waste.
Lu Chuan opened the map and saw his team’s territory expanding.
[Host, how big do you plan to grow the team before you stop?] #888 asked curiously.
“Mm, about a hundred or so, then we’ll go into hiding,” Lu Chuan replied without hesitation. “By that point, loners won’t be susceptible to brainwashing anymore, and teams will only see us as enemies. That’s enough. The rest is waiting for opportunities. Our team’s overall combat power isn’t strong, but everyone values their lives and runs fast. Between a visible enemy and an invisible one, most people pick the visible one. Once the other teams fight each other down, we’ll slip out.”
He wasn’t foolish enough to gather the whole team together.
That would just make them a target.
Better to scatter and let others think they weren’t one group.
The key was finding a good hideout, like pretending to be corpses.
When others had fought themselves bloody, they’d come out to scavenge.
“But it’s still a bit troublesome,” Lu Chuan sighed. “We developed a little too smoothly early on. Looks like we’ll be clashing with Dongyang soon.”
He had been watching Dongyang’s team for a while. He and Edith had even spied on them. Their combined strength was the highest of all. Each member was individually strong, and no other team could stand against them. Even exceptional solo contestants avoided direct conflict.
Now, after wiping out other organized teams, Dongyang was starting to target small groups—most of which were Lu Chuan’s people.
A clash seemed inevitable.
“Captain Lu,” Edith approached quietly, “one of our scouts spotted Dongyang’s men moving our way. We can flee quickly, but Dongyang will split up and chase. One-on-one, we might not match them. Still, protecting you won’t be a problem.”
Edith had compared herself—aside from Dongyang’s two leaders, she could likely beat the rest one-on-one.
“Don’t rush. Let me think.” Lu Chuan stopped her. “We’re not at that point yet. There are only 800 contestants left now. Once 300 more are eliminated, the remaining 500 will advance. Before then, there’s no need to act. Especially you—you must stay hidden.”
Edith was his trump card. Revealing her too soon was unthinkable.
As for Dongyang’s team, a direct clash was impossible.
Sowing internal discord would take too long.
That left only one last resort.
Lu Chuan sighed. He had planned to save this trick for the third or fourth round. But bad luck forced him to use it early.
“Edith, we’ve been in this dungeon a while, and I haven’t let you fight much. Do you feel bored?” Lu Chuan asked, looking at her leisurely.
“Of course not,” Edith said firmly. “To gather such a team without fighting—that’s true skill.”
Lu Chuan really did have ability, especially in managing people. He could win hearts before Edith even realized what he was doing.
So this was the strength of the newcomer ranked number one?
Terrifying!
She felt lucky she had joined him instead of opposing him. His thinking was unorthodox, but always correct.
How did he come up with so many ideas?
“Good, if you’re fine with it, I’m relieved.” Lu Chuan smiled. “Actually, there’s a way for us to always win—never lose.”
“What way?” Edith’s eyes widened. Could that really be possible?
#888 perked up too.
If anyone else had said it, no one would believe. But if Lu Chuan said it, it sounded convincing.
“As long as we surrender before we’re defeated, we’ll never lose.” Lu Chuan spread his hands in a roguish gesture. “We’ll split into three or four groups, pretend not to know each other, and all surrender to Dongyang at once.”
As long as they raised their hands to surrender fast enough, defeat would never catch up with them.
Not losing meant winning.
Sometimes, they could even learn from Italy—surrender quickly enough, and you become the victor. As long as you endure in the early stages, later there will always be chances to absorb others’ strength to grow.
To achieve great things, to win, you couldn’t cling too tightly to pride.
Lu Chuan couldn’t bear the thought of the teammates he had painstakingly gathered dying in a head-on fight with Dongyang.
Come on—training a follower was costly, time-consuming, and exhausting.
There was no way he would let his assets shrink!
Edith: …
#888: … What was I even expecting?
Lu Chuan and “hot-blooded” were simply incompatible to the core!
*
Dongyang’s team.
“Captain, a group of about ten just came to surrender. They said they only want to make it to the third round. They’re really good at cooking and hope to stay on as logistics. They said you can assign them however you like,” one player reported excitedly.
“Surrendered? Fine, we do need people right now. Split them up, keep an eye on them, don’t let them near the food. Send them scouting.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Captain, another group just surrendered—about fifteen, and they all look injured.”
“Captain, more have come to surrender…”
Dongyang’s captain almost thought he was dreaming.
What the hell?
Why so many surrenders today?
Author’s Note:
Lu Chuan: This is called tactics—tactical surrender! Just like Italy: surrender fast enough, and you’re counted among the victors!
PS: In battle dungeons, most players aren’t supposed to win with brains, so I don’t focus on writing that part. Also, readers often ask why so many players seem brainless. The answer’s simple: work a few jobs, and you’ll see—lots of seemingly normal people have no brains at all, can’t even understand plain speech, acting like idiots. [hearts]
