Chapter 53

Chapter 53: Cooperation

The next few days passed in a blur of routine—cooking, training, drying black wood ear, training her mental power, and meditating at night.

Ling Mo could feel herself improving, little by little.

Inside her pocket space, she faced a target a hundred meters away. She drew her bow with quiet confidence and released.

The arrow struck dead center.

“With skills like mine,” she muttered, “if this were before the extreme heat, I’d be a martial arts prodigy.”

Her shooting improved quickly, too, but bullets were limited. She couldn’t afford to waste them practicing recklessly.

That day, after finishing her training, Ling Mo checked the crops she’d planted on the other side of the living room.

They were thriving—lush, green, full of life.

Especially the Little Bai cabbage. It was ready to eat.

Of course, she wasn’t arrogant enough to take all the credit. She’d placed a waterwood stone nearby, and the results spoke for themselves.

If anything, Ling Mo had noticed something: the harsher the environment, the more obvious the waterwood stone’s effect became.

She eyed the fresh, tender leaves and decided lunch would be stir-fried cabbage.

Then she opened her phone to check the news.

With strict government control, there hadn’t been any major disasters lately, but petty theft never stopped. Every day, people complained online about break-ins and stolen stockpiles.

Most of it happened in older neighborhoods near the city’s edge, where aging infrastructure made things easier for thieves. Her complex was in the city center. It wasn’t likely to happen here.

Besides, her mental power detection range had expanded a lot recently, and she’d realized something else.

There were plenty of players in her complex.

And the households that moved in not long ago? Every single one of them were players.

Fortunately, they didn’t seem interested in stirring trouble. From what Ling Mo observed, they kept their heads down. Other than stockpiling supplies, they weren’t doing anything outrageous.

Honestly, she had to admire them. Food outside was being fought over like mad, yet these people still managed to bring in so much.

And Ling Mo had a growing suspicion: her identity as a player was no longer a secret.

Awakened people gave off a subtle aura.

Ordinary people couldn’t sense it, but other awakened people could—like trained fighters recognizing each other through the way they moved, the rhythm of their steps, even the sound of their breathing.

Once she realized that, Ling Mo spent 100 gold coins at the game store on a disguise item and wrapped her identity in a new shell.

The other players living here didn’t seem malicious now, and none of them gave off the vibe of someone looking to dominate, but “now” didn’t mean “later.”

The players in the complex maintained an unspoken agreement: you don’t expose me, I won’t expose you. If they ran into one another outside, they might even nod in passing.

Ling Mo released her two German shepherds. She’d named them Big Black and Second Black. They’d grown a lot, and she could even give them simple commands through her mental power.

Still, they were young. Not much threat yet.

Then Ling Mo remembered the blood lump that had fallen from the sky in the game.

She’d tossed it into her pocket space and never checked again. After so long, had it died?

She searched for it, only to find it alive and fully healed. It lay beneath the plant she’d picked up, eyes closed, apparently asleep.

Just then, someone knocked on her door.

Ling Mo paused, then the knocking came again. She checked the time.

Who came knocking in broad daylight?

She rose and peered through the peephole. It was one of her new neighbors.

“What do you want?” Ling Mo called through the door.

The man smiled and spoke gently. “Young lady, I mean no harm. You’re a player, aren’t you? Can we talk? Open the door first.”

If Ling Mo didn’t already know he truly had no hostile intent, that line alone would’ve had her calling the police. It sounded like a fairy tale wolf trying to coax someone into opening the door.

But in the end, she opened it anyway.

Her door was custom-made with three layers. She opened the first two, leaving the outer security gate closed between them.

“Say it,” Ling Mo said through the gate. “What is it?”

The man looked to be in his twenties. He wore glasses and had a mild, scholarly look that made people relax without realizing it.

Ye Kai sighed at her guarded stance. “You really don’t need to be so cautious. If we wanted to fight you, we would’ve done it already. Why wait until now?”

Ling Mo’s expression didn’t change. If they could actually manage it, maybe.

“Then why are you here?”

Ye Kai’s face turned serious. “Believe it or not, we’re like you. We only want a quiet life. But in the next couple of days, a group is going to come and disrupt that. The few of us can’t stop them. We’re asking everyone for help.”

Ling Mo didn’t sense any lie, and her mental scan confirmed it—plenty of people were already gathered in Ye Kai’s home, and more were on their way.

Seeing the gate finally open, Ye Kai let out a breath he’d been holding. He’d expected it to take far more effort to earn her trust.

Ling Mo followed him.

By the time she arrived at his place, dozens of people were already there.

The air inside was cool enough to raise goosebumps, but no air conditioner was running. Ling Mo immediately guessed there was a water-chilling stone in the room.

When she entered, people smiled and nodded in greeting.

Ling Mo glanced around and realized something else.

Among all these players, she was the youngest.

A moment later, a young man came down from the second floor, smiling warmly.

“Neighbors,” he said, “my name is Jiang Xin. I’m sorry to disturb your lives, but this concerns all of us. I had no choice but to gather everyone.”

Jiang Xin clearly wasn’t the type who enjoyed meddling, but their complex had stockpiled huge amounts of food. Whoever was watching them wasn’t watching by accident.

“One of my companions has awakened divination, but he can only use it once a day,” Jiang Xin continued. “He just divined that tonight, someone will launch an attack on our complex.”

“Their numbers are high, so I hope everyone can work together.”

If Jiang Xin was telling the truth, then they really would need to cooperate at least once. They lived in the same place. If one fell, the rest would follow.

But Ling Mo stayed silent.

She was the youngest here, and her talent wasn’t offensive. She had no desire to be the one stepping forward.