Free Web NovelAfter an overwhelming flood of rewards and titles left the crowd numb, the system finally signed off with polite formality.
With a soft pop, Bai Liu’s little TV screen went dark.
By then, however, a massive crowd had already gathered around it. Shocked voices rose one after another.
“A newcomer?! A complete rookie? This is insane!”
“And a pure newcomer at that! New players these days are terrifying. Did you hear that rewards announcement? It went on for ten whole minutes!”
“That’s not even the craziest part. Did none of you notice he completed the entire Monster Book? Plenty of veteran gods can’t even manage that after reaching a True End!”
“I already bought the video. There’s no way this run isn’t worth watching.”
“Same here. That reward chain alone scared the hell out of me. Over ten thousand charging points... how did he even pull that off?”
“What I’m more curious about is where those thousand dislikes came from. His clear data is absurdly good. How are people still downvoting him?”
The purchase count for Bai Liu’s Siren Town recording skyrocketed in a straight vertical climb, selling hundreds of copies almost instantly.
That was precisely why everyone wanted access to the Core Area.
The audience there was generous, and far more rational than most. Whether through tips, charging points, or simple curiosity, people were willing to spend points to watch promising newcomers. Even someone like Bai Liu—who had only appeared briefly at the end after already clearing the game—could still attract countless viewers eager to find out exactly what kind of monster he was.
Someone had once calculated that a single promotion slot in the Core Area could easily guarantee several thousand charging points.
Wang Shun stared at Bai Liu’s darkened screen with obvious reluctance.
“God Mu, when do you think Bai Liu’s entering another game?” he asked. “Do you think he’ll keep running solo instances? I kind of want to camp his little TV.”
“How would I know?” Mu Shicheng narrowed his eyes lazily. “He should be logging out through the Newcomer Area exit right about now. If you’re that curious, go wait there yourself.”
He popped the lollipop in his mouth to one side, smiling faintly.
“His mental value hasn’t recovered yet. He probably isn’t thinking clearly. If you help him out now, maybe he’ll remember the favor later.”
Wang Shun’s expression became complicated.
“God Mu... you’re seriously shameless.”
Mu Shicheng shrugged, completely unbothered.
“So? Are you going or not?”
There was a trace of wicked amusement in his smile, though the lollipop bulging against one cheek ruined most of the intimidation.
“I’m more interested in his Newcomer Skill.” freeweɓnovel.cѳm
“The top rookie in every batch receives one, and apparently the system keeps those skills completely hidden. People say the skills reflect the player’s truest inner desire.”
Mu Shicheng’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“I really want to know what someone like Bai Liu truly desires.”
Wang Shun was curious too, but still doubtful.
“Even if we ask, why would he tell us?”
“But Bai Liu’s mental value is sitting at 0.1 right now. Do you think that counts as normal?”
Mu Shicheng looked at him innocently.
“It’s already a miracle he didn’t lose his mind the moment he came out. By the time he logs out, he probably won’t even be able to stand properly. If we pretend to be system staff, we can probably trick anything out of him.”
Wang Shun: “...”
Mu Shicheng really was a villain.
――――――――――
Bai Liu stumbled out soaked to the bone.
His vision swam behind a haze like frosted glass, the entire world tilting unsteadily around him. He caught himself against the wall and forced out a slow breath.
The dizziness only worsened.
The moment he crouched down, his legs gave out beneath him completely.
After several failed attempts to stand, Bai Liu finally abandoned the effort and slid back against the wall.
“I really am weak,” he sighed.
There were barely any people near the Newcomer Area exit. Besides Bai Liu, no other rookies had cleared their games yet.
Since he couldn’t move anyway, Bai Liu began sorting through his rewards and newly acquired items.
The more he checked, the more certain he became.
His earlier guess had been correct.
The greatest reward from this game wasn’t the points.
It was the Monster Book.
Not because the items themselves were overwhelmingly powerful. Things like [Sea Navigation] and [Statue Shell] were relatively ordinary attribute-enhancement items. As a game designer, Bai Liu considered them fairly standard.
What made them valuable was something else entirely.
They could not be purchased from the system store.
Bai Liu searched multiple times but failed to find any corresponding entries.
That meant all rewards obtained from the Monster Book possessed [Non-Market Tradability]. In other words, they were limited items.
Players could only obtain them by clearing games—or by purchasing them from other players.
But completing a Monster Book was obviously extremely difficult.
Which meant those items would become incredibly scarce.
And scarcity meant value.
Bai Liu could already imagine how absurdly expensive these things would become in player trading circles.
Still, he had no intention of selling them yet.
Not while he still needed to build his own stats.
Among everything he obtained, the most valuable item in Bai Liu’s eyes was naturally [The Siren’s Amulet].
A perfect survival tool.
As for [Siren’s Reverse Scale], the system only displayed a single line:
[Function Unknown]
[Siren’s Fish Bone] received an equally ridiculous description claiming it could tear through space and time, but the actual functionality remained completely unexplained.
Neither item even possessed a rating.
When Bai Liu clicked the supplementary explanation for [Unknown], the system merely informed him that it was incapable of evaluating them.
“The system can’t evaluate them?”
Bai Liu sighed.
“What a useless system.”
What he didn’t know was that both items originated from a God-grade wandering NPC.
To the system, God-grade NPCs themselves were already incomprehensible bug-like data that exceeded calculable limits.
Asking the system to analyze a scale and bone taken from one was practically torture.
Finally, Bai Liu reached the very last reward.
[Personal Skill Reward]
Behind it floated a single word:
[Locked]
Bai Liu tapped it curiously.
The interface dimmed.
A new panel appeared.
[Player, please close your eyes and imagine the thing you desire most.]
Bai Liu obediently closed his eyes.
Then, with utmost sincerity, he silently repeated three times:
Money.
Money.
Money.
[Player may now open your eyes and receive your skill.]
Bai Liu opened them.
Floating before him was a terribly worn leather wallet.
The edges had faded white with age, the leather peeling in places to expose the woven fibers underneath. It looked like something that had been used for over a decade.
Bai Liu stared blankly at the familiar old wallet he had stubbornly refused to throw away in real life.
...This was his skill?
[Player Bai Liu’s Skill Item: Empty Old Wallet] [(It appears to have been used for a very long time, yet its owner still cannot bear to discard it. One can only imagine how financially desperate he must be.)]
[Player Bai Liu’s Skill Identity: Poor Drifter] [(Unemployed. Broke. Rent overdue. With nowhere left to go, wandering the streets may be your only option.)]
Bai Liu: “...”
Was this skill specifically designed to humiliate poor people?
[System: Of course not.]
[Player Bai Liu’s Skill: You may exchange everything in your possession with others. As long as the other party agrees to provide something in return, the transaction may be stored within your wallet.]
[Skills, points, items, lives—even souls and faith—can all be converted into currency and stored within the wallet as tools for your use.]
[You are the devil’s merchant. Though you appear impoverished, anyone who trades with you may eventually lose everything they possess.]
[You currently possess nothing. But one day, you may possess everything.]
[Your greed for wealth is endless. Sooner or later, your wallet will become the richest in the world—even if it must be filled with the souls of the desperate.]
[Skill Usage Method: Transaction]
[Once both parties agree, the transaction cannot be revoked.]
[Items obtained from a person cannot be sold back to that same individual.]
[If either party dies before fulfilling the terms of the agreement, the soul of the party who defaulted will be imprisoned within the wallet.]
“Wow.”
Bai Liu’s interest visibly deepened.
“This skill doesn’t sound very humane.”
[System: Do you dislike it?]
“No.”
Bai Liu smiled.
“On the contrary, I like it a lot. It suits me perfectly.”
He paused.
“One question. If the other party enters a transaction without knowing I possess this skill, does the deal still count?”
[System: If a monetary relationship exists between both parties, and currency from your wallet has entered the other party’s possession at least once, the transaction is established.]
“A monetary relationship...”
Bai Liu rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
“For example?”
[System: If you wish to obtain another player’s item, and use points from your wallet to purchase it, the transaction is established the moment they accept your currency.]
[Whether they know about your skill is irrelevant.]
[Whether they sincerely intended to sell it is also irrelevant.]
[Once the currency is accepted, the item belongs to you.]
Bai Liu’s smile slowly widened.
“So even if I offer one point for an extremely valuable item as a joke... as long as they agree, it works?”
[System: Yes.]
“What a shameless skill.”
Bai Liu sounded genuinely impressed.
“I can’t wait to try it.”
[System: Your current balance is 15,781 points. Would you like to deposit them into the wallet?]
“Do it.”
After sorting his items, Bai Liu finally opened his status panel.
Almost every stat was painted in alarming red.
[Player Name: Bai Liu]
[Health: 20] [(A two-hundred-pound man could probably kill you by sitting on you. Slowly recovering.)]
[Stamina: 7] [(Unable to stand steadily. Recovering automatically.)]
[Agility: 7] [(Entire body suffering from muscle soreness. Recovering automatically.)]
[Attack: 1] [(Your strongest punch resembles a two-month-old kitten patting someone with its paw. Recovering automatically.)]
[Intelligence: 45] ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) [(Original Value: 89. Reduced by half due to critical mental value. Will recover after mental stabilization.)]
[Luck: 0] [(Your life has been exceptionally unfortunate. If anyone in a game encounters a God-grade wandering NPC, it will definitely be you.)]
[Skill: Empty Old Wallet]
[Identity: Poor Drifter]
[Mental Value: 3] [(Logically speaking, you should already have transformed into a monster through overwhelming madness. The fact that you still retain your sanity is shocking.]
[But perhaps maintaining calmness and rationality under such conditions is itself proof that you are already a monster.]
[Terrifying player. Values recovering automatically.)]
Bai Liu calmly ignored the system’s lengthy commentary comparing him to a monster.
“How long until recovery?” he asked.
[System: At your current recovery speed, complete restoration will occur three to five days after leaving the game.]
Bai Liu nodded.
“Then exit the ga—”
He stopped abruptly.
Several people were approaching from the distance.
Mu Shicheng and Wang Shun arrived just in time to see Bai Liu slumped against the wall with his head tilted back.
They instinctively assumed he was barely conscious.
After all, someone whose mental value had dropped that low should have been mentally destroyed.
Yet the moment they approached, Bai Liu raised his head and looked directly at them.
His gaze was calm.
Clear.
The very first thing he said made both of them freeze.
“You’re here to ask about my personal skill?”
The smile on Mu Shicheng’s face stiffened.
He crouched down, resting his elbows casually on his knees.
“How can you be so sure?” he asked with interest. “Maybe we’re here to rob you. Or kill you. You’re pretty rich right now.”
Wang Shun nearly blurted out that killing wasn’t possible inside the lobby.
But then he realized something.
Bai Liu shouldn’t know that yet.
Yet Bai Liu only thought for a few seconds before answering.
“Killing probably isn’t allowed here.”
Wang Shun stared.
“How do you know?”
Mu Shicheng’s interest deepened.
He was certain Bai Liu hadn’t known earlier.
When Mu Shicheng mentioned killing him, Bai Liu had instinctively pulled one leg back.
That reflex couldn’t be faked.
Yet only moments later, he had already reached the correct conclusion.
“Reasoning?” Mu Shicheng asked.
“Simple.”
Bai Liu shrugged.
“If players could be robbed or killed immediately after logging out, this exit would be crowded with people camping weaker players.”
“I’ve been sitting here for ten minutes. Besides you two, I haven’t seen anyone else.”
“So either killing and robbery are forbidden...”
“...or this game has the worst economic balancing I’ve ever seen.”
From Bai Liu’s perspective as a game designer, allowing players to be slaughtered at their weakest point would completely destroy game balance.
It was basically spawn-camping.
Any game designed that way would lose players almost immediately.
Mu Shicheng let out a low whistle.
“Correct.”
Wang Shun’s expression turned complicated.
Earlier, Mu Shicheng had confidently claimed they could trick Bai Liu into revealing his skill.
Now it looked increasingly unlikely that either of them could fool him at all.
Mu Shicheng studied Bai Liu carefully.
“What exactly is your mental value right now?”
He sounded genuinely baffled.
“You don’t look like someone who dropped to 0.1. Did you use Mental Bleach?”
“My mental value is currently 3,” Bai Liu replied calmly. “Still recovering.”
Mu Shicheng: “...”
Wang Shun: “...”
The two fell into stunned silence.
Wang Shun recovered first.
“Three?!”
“Yes.”
Bai Liu looked mildly puzzled.
“What’s wrong with that?”
Wang Shun stared at him like he was looking at something fundamentally impossible.
“Do you even understand what mental value 3 means? You should be drowning in hallucinations right now! Your consciousness and body should both be collapsing!”
“I’ve never even gone below sixty,” Wang Shun continued weakly. “When I hit sixty, I could barely think straight. Most players under twenty completely lose their minds after exiting a game.”
“And you’re sitting here talking normally...”
He gestured helplessly at Bai Liu from head to toe.
Bai Liu, meanwhile, only leaned against the wall more comfortably.
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked lazily. “I feel pretty normal.”
And that was exactly the terrifying part.
No one should have been capable of remaining this calm with a mental value of 3.
“Your thoughts should be chaotic!” Wang Shun protested. “Your intelligence stat should’ve been cut in half!”
“It was.”
Bai Liu nodded casually.
“My thoughts are messy too. But forty-five intelligence points are still enough to answer your questions.”
“These aren’t difficult.”
Wang Shun had absolutely no response.
The truth was that Bai Liu really was enduring constant psychological torment.
A strange inner voice continuously whispered violent urges into his mind.
Kill.
Destroy.
Take.
But honestly?
Bai Liu had experienced something similar while unemployed.
Back then, another voice had constantly whispered:
Beat up the boss who fired you.
Beat up Mu Ke.
With Bai Liu’s intelligence, he could absolutely have done it without getting caught.
But Bai Liu had long since grown accustomed to controlling himself through law and rules.
He even kept thick legal textbooks at home and had nearly memorized several of them.
His personal principle was simple:
As long as he existed within human society, he would obey the rules established by human society.
So although his desires were abnormal, he restrained them.
Compared to that, the madness caused by low mental value felt surprisingly manageable.
Still...
Mental Bleach.
Bai Liu narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
The name sounded suspiciously similar to a healing potion.
But instead of asking Wang Shun directly, Bai Liu turned his attention toward Mu Shicheng.
This person clearly enjoyed playing games with people.
Wang Shun eventually asked the question again.
“So how did you know we came here for your Personal Skill?”
“If you weren’t here to kill me, then you obviously wanted something.”
Bai Liu spoke evenly, his logic perfectly organized.
“Information. Cooperation. Curiosity.”
“But I’m a newcomer. My public data is already visible. My stats and rewards aren’t hidden.”
“The only unknown thing left...”
“...is my Personal Skill.”
He looked directly at the two of them.
“So you came here hoping to ask about it. Normally I wouldn’t tell you. But because my mental value is unstable, you assumed I wouldn’t be thinking clearly enough to refuse.”
“Am I wrong?”
Wang Shun let out a long, exhausted sigh.
Bai Liu had guessed everything.
Every single detail.
Mu Shicheng crouched lower, scrutinizing him with growing fascination.
“At this point I seriously doubt your mental value is actually real.”
“I’m starting to think I’ll never get your skill out of you.”
“Not necessarily.”
Bai Liu smiled slowly.
“How about a trade?”
“I’ll show you my skill.”
“You restore my mental value with Mental Bleach.”
Mu Shicheng narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“You’re serious?”
“Don’t try to trick me. I own items that can determine whether someone’s lying.”
“You’re welcome to test me.”
Bai Liu spread his hands lazily.
Mu Shicheng still frowned.
“Mental Bleach isn’t cheap. Why would I waste it on you? I can just watch your next game instead.”
Without another word, Bai Liu pulled a single silver coin from his wallet.
“I won’t take it for free.”
He held the coin lightly between two fingers.
“I’ll pay you one point.”
