This is no ordinary slime; it requires a heavy hand!

Page (1/3)

“Phew. It took nearly two days, but I’m back, kids! Well? Was my word not as good as—”

Mint had barely teleported back to the guild, carrying two enormous parcels, before she launched into an excited stream of chatter.

“What happened to everyone? Why do you all look so listless?”

“And why is everyone’s equipment in such terrible shape...?”

“Ugh, what is that smell?” Mint sniffed. “Such a complicated fruity fragrance.”

The Boundary Between Reality and Illusion had been wiped out.

Jiang Heyi had gotten extraordinarily lucky—or unlucky—and one potion had exploded into hundreds of enormous slimes.

Although he had somehow held out until everyone regrouped, their resistance had proved feeble beneath the assault of those slimes, which surged over them like a flood of adhesive.

They had only just died and returned home when their resident encyclopedia, absent for more than a day, came bouncing back. Her timing was nothing short of miraculous.

Mint’s eyes widened. She gestured with her hands. “You mean a slime this big?”

Zhong Zemo corrected her. “With your arm span, it would take at least three of you put together.”

“That big!” Mint exclaimed, too shocked to notice that Zhong Zemo was teasing her for being rather tiny.

“A slime king... No, no, even that size wouldn’t qualify as a king. Can they communicate?”

“They didn’t seem particularly intelligent.” Orange Tea recalled the sensation of being entirely wrapped up and swallowed into one of them.

Although her death had been determined the moment her shield shattered, the bizarre experience still made her shudder whenever she thought of it.

“So they’re ordinary slimes?” Mint covered her mouth with one hand. Her eyes gradually sharpened as she entered analytical mode. “How fascinating.”

Mint dragged over a chair, turned it around, and sat down.

She folded her hands beneath her chin, scanning the group from one person to the next, and pressed eagerly, “What other useful information is there? Tell me everything.”

It was time for a debrief.

The first subject they brought up was the slimes’ method of attack. The dazzling variety of elemental magic had opened the eyes of the Boundary Between Reality and Illusion.

Streams of multicolored elemental light had descended from the sky, blanketing the monastery where they had been hiding.

It had been like suffering a saturation bombardment from an entire artillery corps.

The other noteworthy detail was probably the smell. At close quarters, everyone had been able to detect the slimes’ unusual “natural fragrance,” a scent that seemed to permeate their round, plump bodies.

“These slimes aren’t wild. They’re domesticated,” Mint declared.

The Anna Empire had slime ranches of this kind. Slime breeders deliberately fed them special mixed solutions in order to tame them.

The changes in their scent were also meant to satisfy the nobility’s demands for slime pets. Of course, rumor had it that there were even more unspeakable uses...

During her time at the Imperial Academy, Mint had witnessed quite a bit of the diversity of species.

But whatever the purpose, what people needed were miniature or ordinary slimes. The enormous slimes Jiang Heyi had encountered usually appeared near the Anna Empire’s densely packed city-states, where bounties would be posted for their extermination.

“So, is there any way to deal with them?” Jailer asked, staring at Mint expectantly.

Mint laid her face against the tabletop and cast him a sidelong glance. “A way... What sort of way could there be? Just avoid them if you can.”

“There’s no potion that can deal with them?”

“Er... You can’t exactly say there’s nothing capable of handling that many slimes at once. But I can’t make it, and even if someone could, you couldn’t afford to buy it.” Mint lifted her chin and puffed out her chest. “Now you understand how valuable I am, right?”

She was actually proud of herself.

Page (1/3)

Page (2/3)

Seeing everyone fall silent, Mint finally voiced the question that had been nagging at her.

“I’m curious. Where exactly did you go adventuring? One moment it’s an undead abomination, and the next it’s an army of slimes. With your current strength, did you really have to try fighting such dangerous creatures?”

Judging by its mechanics and dungeon structure, the difficulty of the Underground Temple was self-evident. They had only been playing for a short while, their equipment was incomplete, and the fact that they had managed to blast through the Purifying Layer Guardian was already an act of outrageous luck.

The correct course of action should have been to give up and choose a dungeon more suitable for their current level.

But every member of the Boundary Between Reality and Illusion clearly had ideas of their own.

As “despicable outsiders,” the players had no choice but to resort to unorthodox methods if they could not simply hack their way through two streets in broad daylight.

Jailer had never been the sort to follow the rules. If a dungeon could be cleared by conventional means, he was perfectly happy to follow along and immerse himself in the experience. But if that was impossible...

The slimes possessed dual resistance to elemental and arcane damage.

They could extend and transform themselves in close combat, even swallowing their enemies whole.

They were enormous in number and size, more than capable of crushing an ordinary player party.

These were no ordinary slimes. It was time to bring out the heavy artillery.

Jailer snapped his fingers. “If there’s no potion that can destroy the slimes, is there one that can make us invisible?”

Everyone’s eyes lit up.

If they could not deal with the slimes in a group, sneaking around and assassinating them one by one would be an excellent alternative.

“Slimes are merely low-intelligence creatures, not idiots. The elements and arcane energy are extensions of their senses, so how exactly do you plan to...” Mint had been halfway through an impassioned lecture when her voice suddenly lowered. She rested her chin in her hand, deep in thought.

“Wait... Invisibility should be impossible, but making their senses fail might actually work.”

Everyone immediately crowded around Mint.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! I only said it might work—might! Don’t get so excited.” Mint hurriedly added, “I need some bodily material from the slimes. The more, the better.”

The moment she finished speaking, a large heap of adhesive chunks, still exuding a fruity fragrance, came clattering down onto the table.

The materials were ready. Next came the various potion catalysts.

“Three bottles of soul fragments?” Jiang Heyi frowned. “You need that many?”

“There aren’t any in the guild’s material storage. I’ll have to find someone to exchange for them!”

Jiang Heyi stared fixedly into Mint’s eyes until a fine layer of sweat appeared on her forehead and she lowered her head guiltily.

“O-One bottle...”

Once she had the money, Mint’s initiative exploded into action. She immediately left the guild, promising that she would have results within a day.

They were eager to see what surprise Mint would bring back, but unfortunately, there was very little game time left that day.

The Boundary Between Reality and Illusion was desperately short of forging blueprints. Only after obtaining a blueprint and giving it to the guild automaton to learn could they forge equipment sets in the workshop.

Without blueprints, all the high-quality materials they had accumulated could only be fed to the automaton and the guild. This delighted the hoarding-obsessed Jiang Heyi, but served no other purpose whatsoever.

“Orange Tea, put your back into it! We need blueprints.”

So much for a cyber orange deity—this was turning into cyber incense and worship.

Zhong Zemo had already begun praying to her.

His shield had been scavenged from discarded junk, and its durability was almost gone.

Repairing it did not seem worthwhile.

Page (2/3)

Page (3/3)

Buying a new one in Windpod City would leave him unable to withstand the intensity of the Underground Temple.

He was caught in an awkward middle ground, unable to move forward or back.

In truth, this was also the attitude of most players. They would continue wearing a full set of battered equipment, refusing to upgrade their hardware even if it meant suffering, and instead work hard to accumulate materials so they could make a single, fully worthwhile upgrade and avoid repeated waste.

With a little time remaining before logout, Jiang Heyi sorted through the ordinary materials he had accumulated in his inventory and led the group back to Windpod City.

They had stuck together for so long that it was time to move around independently for a while.

If they kept their eyes open, they might even discover a few interesting and useful Pals like Mint.

The main world’s Windpod City was still bustling with people. Guild recruitment remained the primary topic in the regional channel, and while walking through the streets, one would occasionally encounter people darting out to ask, in the tone of missionaries, whether one wanted to join their guild and retire in comfort there. They always emphasized that no one would be exploited as slave labor.

Jiang Heyi had originally intended to head to Dandelion Street and see how far in-game trade had developed, but on the way, a player caught his attention.

The player wore a black, oversized trench coat purchased from the cash shop. He had created an extremely burly male human avatar and was sitting cross-legged beside the crowded street.

A sign stood beside him.

“Feed me for a surprise.”

Many players and NPCs passed by, but most merely glanced at him before choosing to ignore him. Jiang Heyi, however, studied him with interest.

Jiang Heyi opened the trading interface.

“Would you like to trade with player Shadow Fiat?”

He clicked confirm and placed a green-quality slime adhesive with little practical use into the trade window.

The motionless man, still as a stone, suddenly stood up. An item he intended to offer appeared on the trading interface.

“Dryad Heart.”

What?

Wasn’t that the purple-quality item dropped by the Dryad Chieftain in the Precision Forest outside Windpod City?

Green for purple—and what was more, Shadow Fiat had already confirmed the trade. As long as Jiang Heyi clicked confirm, the other player would have no way to take it back.

What was this supposed to mean? A charitable benefactor throwing money around?

Shadow Fiat said nothing. He neither urged Jiang Heyi nor offered an explanation. He merely folded his arms and looked down at him from above.

Once Jiang Heyi confirmed the trade and received the Dryad Heart, Shadow Fiat pinched the slime adhesive he had acquired between his fingers and walked away, playing with it as he went.

Jiang Heyi was still somewhat dazed when a voice beside him brought him back to reality.

It belonged to another player, who asked in an unusually urgent tone, “You traded with him?”

Jiang Heyi suddenly felt a little guilty. “What? Was I... not supposed to trade with him?”

“Ah!” The player was overcome with disappointment. “I’m too late. Too late...”

After asking around, Jiang Heyi learned that ever since the third day after the game’s launch, Shadow Fiat had been appearing throughout the various areas of Windpod City with that sign in hand.

Regardless of the quality of the material offered in trade, he would place a Dryad Heart on the other side of the window. Through this eccentric behavior, he had already become a minor celebrity in the Proof of Stars community.

The Proof of Stars had indeed become the players’ second life. Some entered dungeons and fought monsters, some pursued life professions, some role-played, and some had even taken to performance art...

Page (3/3)