Chapter 93
Lu Chuan had long been frustrated with how small the Star Guild’s market was.
Yes, it was one of the five great guilds, but compared to the other four, it was weaker. Even after his and Shen Li’s meteoric rise, most ordinary people and players still preferred joining the others.
That meant while his Golden Luxury Estates thrived within Star Guild territory, once that market was saturated, further expansion was difficult.
Anyone who’s gotten rich knows: to make big money, you have to make the cake bigger—expand your business across the world so wealth pours in.
But the five great guilds were rivals. Even if peace was maintained for now, it was only because all five leaders were still alive. Expecting free trade between them was utterly impossible.
However, if Cynthia and Messiah became leaders of their respective guilds, things would be much easier.
The Abyss Guild and Ocean’s Heart Guild could be slowly courted afterward.
Once the cake was big enough, those guilds might even come knocking on their own.
“Cough, becoming guildmaster isn’t that easy. First you have to run in an election, at the very least be a Master-Rank player, and you also need the approval of the previous leader plus the support of enough members.” Messiah hadn’t expected the fire to be turned on him. “In Noah Guild, our vice-leaders are still young. They’d probably want the position more than I do.”
“Your guild’s vice-leaders are all ambitious types. Just pit them against each other and swoop in as the mantis stalks the cicada.” Lu Chuan waved it off. “Stir the waters to catch fish. Besides, we’re still young, with our whole future ahead. You really want to spend your life obeying those old fossils? Don’t forget—when you were entangled by that god, your guild’s elders wanted to abandon you. Do you want that to happen again?”
Messiah’s face darkened.
Lu Chuan knew just where to stab—straight into the sore spot.
How could Messiah ever forget?
He might act indifferent, never publicly breaking with his guild, but deep down, he still resented how they had abandoned him at his most critical moment.
Otherwise, why would he have gone out of his way to help transfer Edith into Lu Chuan’s Star Guild?
“Messiah, only after hardship do you realize: wealth and power are the best medicine for keeping your sense of self.” Lu Chuan spoke earnestly. “Why do people labor? Because only through work can they prove their value? But if you remain just another ordinary player, how long will that last? There will always be endless waves of prodigies on the Newcomer Ranking. With your physique and talents, you’re bound to be entangled with gods. This time it was a restricted mid-tier deity, and the guild still abandoned you. What if next time it’s a high-tier one? Do you think they won’t sacrifice you for the guild’s sake?”
For example, trading Messiah’s life for a high-tier god to do something for Noah Guild.
That kind of situation was impossible to predict.
Since Messiah was already a prime candidate for divine possession, other gods would definitely target him.
Not every time would end as smoothly as before, and not every god would be as foolish as that fake God of Desire.
Without foresight, disaster was inevitable.
Messiah had thought of all this too, of course—just no one had ever dared spell it out so nakedly.
“I think Lu Chuan makes some sense,” Lilus admitted reluctantly. Normally he didn’t want to agree with him, but this time his words rang true. “When Sis and I were fourteen, we could’ve entered the game as players already. But we knew we wouldn’t necessarily make the Newcomer Ranking then, so we waited—grew stronger first. That way, when we entered, we landed straight on the list with our first dungeon. That gave us a different standing in the guild, and with it, the power to choose.”
Now, they understood the importance of power even more clearly.
In dungeons, what they had to guard against weren’t just NPCs, but deliberately designed plots and ever-present deathtraps.
But in reality, the ones they had to guard against were players just like themselves, and the ones they had to fight were the massive mechanisms that existed in the real world.
From a certain point of view, reality itself was the ultimate high-difficulty dungeon they had to conquer.
“I of course understand what you’re saying.” Messiah sighed. “But my authority within the Noah Guild is limited. Even if I wanted to recruit people, I don’t really have much competitive edge for the time being.”
“How could you not have a competitive edge? Your looks are your edge!” Lu Chuan scolded him angrily. “In this era where ordinary people lack entertainment and even players have few chances to relax, you—an orthodox, red-blooded genius player of the Noah Guild—only need to show your face more, shoot some ads, say a few nice words, and countless people will flock to follow you. And yet you’re ignoring your greatest advantage. That’s just squandering a gift from heaven!”
Lu Chuan believed that the reason he could stir up such huge reactions wasn’t just because he was a powerful player, but also because he was young, handsome, and good-looking. People were more willing to glance at him a few more times and found him easier to remember. Lu Chuan himself was also willing to put himself out there, striving to make more people know him, turning his fame into a force that could generate wealth.
But Messiah was the complete opposite extreme.
He was clearly very good-looking, but he stayed reclusive. The outside world only knew that Messiah existed, but hardly anyone knew what he looked like. And now Messiah was saying he didn’t have people under him and couldn’t be a Guildmaster? That nearly made Lu Chuan vomit blood in rage.
You’re totally wasting your advantage.
Lu Chuan hated iron for not becoming steel—if it were him, he would’ve been selling photo books early on just to raise starter funds.
[Host, please stay calm.] ] #888 hurried to comfort him. [Messiah just doesn’t understand, but he won’t get in the way of your great plan.]
“It’s fine, I just can’t stand seeing people pass up money lying on the table.” Lu Chuan quickly steadied his mood.
Messiah stayed silent for a long while, seemingly thinking over Lu Chuan’s words.
Maybe… he really could give it a try.
“The Ocean Heart Guild recently seems to have obtained a key to a special dungeon.” Cynthia, sensing the tension, changed the subject. “I heard the Guildmaster accidentally got hold of it during one of his runs. The dungeon involves the legacy of a former Master-Rank player who had mutated.”
Legacy?
Lu Chuan pricked up his ears.
“This Master-Rank player had already fallen off the rankings when he mutated, and because the exact time of the mutation is unknown, the player’s identity is also unknown,” Cynthia explained. “For dungeons like this, Guildmasters won’t personally go. A mutated Master-Rank player is sure to attract Burial Squad, and Guildmasters avoid too much contact with them. That’s because Burial Squad can lower a player’s sanity value, which in turn makes mutation more likely.”
Burial Squad were a double-edged sword—on one hand, they handled mutations; on the other, they were the very root cause of them.
But Cynthia also knew that Lu Chuan had a good relationship with the Burial Squad. That was a huge advantage, one they could definitely exploit.
“I think you guys should try.” Cynthia continued, “If possible, you’d better take my brother with you.”
“Huh? Sis, I don’t want to go.” Lilus froze. “Didn’t I say I’d go with you to the Divine Challenge dungeon?”
“You should do this one first. Strengthen yourself so you’ll be better able to accompany me in the Divine Challenge.” Cynthia replied. “A mutated Master-Rank player means all his items and wealth are in that dungeon. If you can inherit his legacy, the rewards might even surpass what you’d get from a Divine Challenge run.”
A normal Master-Rank player’s wealth was definitely abundant.
Shen Li was an exception.
But typically, if a Master-Rank player mutated, it meant he had been on the rankings for a long time and had accumulated countless items and fortune.
Even if he mutated, the items remained.
Being able to claim their legacy would be an immeasurable fortune for any player. On top of that, clearing a dungeon spawned by a mutated player would also help their rank evaluations.
For Lu Chuan right now, it was absolutely a good thing.
And for Lilus, even more so.
Under Cynthia’s gaze, a surge of heroism welled up in Lilus. “Alright, Sis, just leave it to me!”
So gullible.
Lu Chuan sneered inwardly—Lilus was still too young.
“Would the Ocean Heart Guild even let us into their dungeon?” Lu Chuan found it unlikely. “They’d probably just handle it themselves. If the price is too steep, I’ll have to think it over.”
“At the moment, Ocean Heart doesn’t really have suitable players. Other Master-Rank players won’t want to go—they see their peers’ mutations as ominous—and ordinary elite players would just be marching to their deaths. As long as we use guild-to-guild channels to approach them, they’ll most likely agree to cooperate.”
They might reject requests from individual players, but they couldn’t so easily reject another guild.
After all, who didn’t sometimes need help from another guild?
“I heard the Ocean Heart Guild controls the seas. Their treasures like pearls, gems, and corals are countless…”
Before Cynthia could even finish, Lu Chuan had already stood up.
“You’re right. We really do need to establish ties with the Ocean Heart Guild.” Lu Chuan’s eyes gleamed. “The maritime trade is a gold mine. How could I have forgotten?”
How did old England get rich? By sailing, of course!
Lu Chuan was annoyed at himself for having overlooked it.
If the Ocean Heart Guild’s leader weren’t still so young, he really should’ve joined that guild back then!
Since Lu Chuan already agreed, Messiah had no choice but to give in under everyone’s stares.
“I’ll do my best.” Messiah raised his hand in surrender. “Just call me when the time comes.”
Now that’s more like it! Lu Chuan was finally satisfied.
With such perfect conditions, what a waste for Messiah not to be Guildmaster.
With his looks alone, he could recruit a whole crowd!
——
Star Guild.
When Lu Chuan got back, he didn’t continue working on the real estate expansion plan. He had already sketched out the first phase. For the second, third, and fourth phases, his subordinates could just copy the blueprint, and if they ran into real trouble, they could come to him.
What Lu Chuan needed to focus on now was maritime trade.
He hadn’t realized it before, but once he did some digging, he was shocked at how enormous an advantage the Ocean Heart Guild had.
Their guild headquarters was built on the back of a massive sea beast, and countless branch guilds were settled on the backs of other sea monsters, roaming everywhere while still maintaining connections. It was easily the most free and mobile guild.
And with their abundance of resources, even ordinary people could live quite well there. On the surface, Ocean Heart looked a bit weaker than the Resurrection Guild, but if it came down to a real fight, they might not lose at all.
Still… what a waste.
Lu Chuan felt his heart bleeding as he looked over the data in his hands.
The ocean—that was an immeasurable treasure trove! Dig anywhere, and who knew how many good things lay buried beneath the waves?
But the Ocean Heart Guild had no business sense. They preferred singing hymns to the Sea God and hosting game banquets. In this era where artists had nearly gone extinct, the few surviving ones—writers, poets—were mostly living under Ocean Heart’s jurisdiction.
Lu Chuan felt he had to get involved in the shipping and jewelry businesses.
That stuff was real money.
A single-industry economy might pile up immense wealth in the short term, but it could just as easily collapse overnight.
Lu Chuan could never tolerate that risk.
“Your Golden Luxury Estates are selling well, aren’t they? And you’ve got shops, office land—why suddenly get into Ocean Heart Guild affairs?” Shen Li asked, puzzled. This wasn’t like Lu Chuan at all.
“Let me be clear: if you want to stir things up within our own guild, fine. If you must expand, target the medium guilds first. Don’t set your sights on Ocean Heart. We can’t afford to provoke them right now.”
“Captain Shen, I want to take part in one of Ocean Heart Guild’s special dungeons. Does our guild have anything Ocean Heart desperately needs?” Lu Chuan looked at him eagerly. “That way, when I go, I can also talk some business.”
Heaven above, has this guy gone mad with money?
Shen Li regretted it—had he pushed Lu Chuan too hard recently? Maybe refusing to become a Master-Rank player wasn’t such a dealbreaker after all.
“I think our vision was too narrow before. We need to look further ahead, not just cling to our little patch of land.” Lu Chuan’s eyes sparkled. “I heard the pearls there are amazing—beautiful and whitening, people will love them.”
“And the seafood! So much seafood, and delicious too. We could open restaurants. My residential complex and office tower both need some high-end restaurants to boost their image, otherwise they look too plain and low-class…”
“Oh, and the tourism industry would be great too.”
“There are also plenty of energy sources under the sea. We could develop some new energy instead of always relying on consumable props.”
“…Calm down.” Shen Li could barely handle him anymore—Lu Chuan sounded completely swept away.
Who was it? Who planted the idea of Ocean Heart Guild in his head?
Shen Li silently jotted down a mental note—he’d settle the score with that troublemaker later.
“Ahem, I lost my composure.” Lu Chuan took a deep breath. “Anyway, this is our next-phase goal. As for Sasha, she needs to level up too, so she can come with me when the time comes.”
#888 was speechless.
The host was someone who needed stimulation.
A vast, untapped market was, to Lu Chuan, no different from a starving man of three days suddenly seeing a grand imperial feast.
He didn’t just chase wealth—he enjoyed the process of chasing it.
He was born for wealth.
“…I’ll go gather some information first.” Shen Li had no choice but to stall for time. “Wait for me to dig around properly, then we can talk about the rest.”
“Alright.” Lu Chuan nodded, restraining his restless eagerness. “But hurry up, so we can start drafting our plans.”
Shen Li felt a headache coming on.
Did he need to recruit some assistants? Having to handle Lu Chuan all by himself was truly difficult. He was getting old—he couldn’t keep up with this kind of tossing around.
