Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Why Do We Still Have to Pay Taxes?

[Little Titan Girl: Hahahahaha, I’m better than you. Mine was 2 hours 20 minutes. Looks like I’m definitely top-tier talent!]

[Back Then Tigerquake: Damn, you animal!]

[Run Naked In The Wind: /tears I’m also an hour and a half. How did I end up on the same level as Brother Wu Song?]

[Jump High, Pee Far: Mine was 1 hour 45 minutes…]

[Born Emperor: You’re talking about this game? This excited? Is it really that fun?]

[Jing Bao Tian: 2 hours 35 minutes.]

[Little Titan Girl: @Jing Bao Tian Insane. Big shot is still big shot.]

[Philanthropist: @Jing Bao Tian Big shot, what are you even talking about? Give us something. How’s the game? Screenshots? Plot? Anything?]

The moment Little Titan Girl and the others surfaced, the group surged, everyone clamoring at once.

And Jing Bao Tian replied with a single sentence.

[Jing Bao Tian: Brothers, I’ll be honest. The plot doesn’t matter anymore. This game is going to break records. You won’t find a game more fun anywhere on Earth. I’ll stake my entire gaming career on it.]

The chat instantly turned into a flood.

Holy shit.

No way.

You’re kidding.

That exaggerated?

Had Jing Bao Tian—this famous big shot—finally thrown away his pride and taken money to hype a game?

“The best game in the world.”

What kind of confidence was that? Even the widely acclaimed AAA masterpiece Record of the Gods hadn’t dared claim that when it first dropped.

Jing Bao Tian knew it didn’t matter how much he explained. They wouldn’t believe him.

Because right now, he couldn’t prove it.

Yun Zhou Continent wasn’t fully connected to the internet. In the interface, he couldn’t find any screenshot or screen-record function. No buttons. No shortcuts. Nothing.

But senses didn’t lie.

He had seen it with his own eyes—an “other world” that existed.

At this point, he didn’t need approval. He needed advantage. As long as the game itself didn’t collapse, he would keep playing.

He had Zhou Xiao pull the other forty-plus players who had entered into one unified group chat.

[Yun Zhou Continent Inner Sect Disciples Group]

Zhou Xiao had posted the recruitment info, so she recognized most of the names. She still missed two, though.

[Han Tian: Those two brothers or sisters probably saw the ad on their own. When they log in, tell them we have a group.]

[Han Tian: Everyone looks confused, so I’ll start. I’ll list what I’ve observed. If anything’s missing, add it.]

[Everyone: 1111]

[Han Tian: First rule is clear. Everything depends on keeping the Sect Master alive. Just treat her like your real mom.]

[Han Tian: We’ve tested it. Most physical reactions in the game match reality. I’ve said it a dozen times already, but this game is unreal. That means we might be able to bring some modern techniques into the game. @Zhou Nu Zi, give an example.]

[Zhou Nu Zi: Okay. Thanks, big shot. As one of the lucky ones picked today by Senior Brother A Wu, I followed A Wu and identified several basic spirit herbs on Yun Zhou Continent. They’re ingredients for the legendary Blood Replenishing Pill and Qi Replenishing Pill.]

That clicked for everyone.

If farming rules still held true—and the only added variable was spiritual energy—then the “creative approaches” they could try were endless.

[Wu Da Hu: Brother, that’s illegal. Extremely illegal.]

[Su Da Qiang: It’s just a metaphor. More ideas means more roads.]

[Han Tian: Missiles won’t work, but bombs? Bombs we can make.]

[Su Da Qiang: Brother, you get me!]

[Jiang Ya: …]

[Chen Miao Miao: 1]

[Jiang Ya: 1]

[Su Da Qiang: 1]

[Everyone: 11111]

While the players argued enthusiastically, Song Jiu Lai—the one they were all depending on—started a different kind of grind the moment they were forced offline.

Because the System delivered a cruel truth: its knowledge about Yun Zhou Continent was sourced from Song Jiu Lai.

Meaning if the players asked questions, the System had to answer. And whether it could answer depended on whether Song Jiu Lai herself knew.

She could bluff higher-level concepts. But for low-level things—basic materials, common herbs—the System couldn’t even identify them. If the Sect Master couldn’t answer either, the System’s “all-knowing” image would crack. And that would drag her image down with it.

So Song Jiu Lai cultivated with teeth clenched.

The Soul Cultivation Heart Method the System issued? She practiced it.

The Yun Zhou Continent Ore Veins Encyclopedia she borrowed from Su Huan Li? She read it.

The Yun Zhou Continent Herbal Encyclopedia she bought for one low-grade spirit stone? She devoured it.

She even begged Su Huan Li for obscure references—rare herbs and minerals you couldn’t buy on the market.

Some methods she might never practice, but she had to know them. She had to sound like she knew them.

Thankfully, this world didn’t demand sleep. You opened your eyes, you cultivated. You closed your eyes, you cultivated.

Then bad news hit like a hammer.

Not long after the players went offline, A Wu came running over, breathless.

“Sect Master,” he said, “I just learned Myriad Immortals Sect will hold an Immortal Sacrifice Grand Ceremony next month. Cultivators from everywhere will attend. They’ve announced that this year’s taxes for every sect must be paid early. Our sect took in fifty junior sisters and junior brothers… so we have to pay ten extra mid-grade spirit stones.”

Song Jiu Lai stared at him. “What?!”

Why the hell did they still have to pay taxes?!