Chapter Eighty-Three: The Days of Holding the Line

About eight hundred paces northwest outside the city of East Childerd Port lies a dense forest. From a concealed path leading into the woods, no more than thirty paces in, you encounter a fork in the road, each path leading to a different pirate camp. Every three minutes, a level 32 "Ghost Reef Pirate" dashes from the left entrance toward the right. With just three "Stabs," one "Block," and two consecutive "Slashes," I can dispatch him efficiently. From his corpse, I collect forty-five silver coins, a small roll of silk, and a vial of pirate black rye. After encountering four messengers—regardless of whether I kill them—on the fifth, a "Pirate's Communication Letter" can be found.

Meanwhile, every two and a half minutes, a level 33 "Ghost Reef Pirate" runs from the right entrance to the left. To take him down most efficiently, I use one "Stab," one "Combo Slash," one "Back Slash," and three regular attacks. From his body, I find between sixty-seven and ninety-two silver coins, two small rolls of white gauze, a roasted chicken leg, and occasionally a pirate’s headscarf or eyepatch. For every five pirate deputies I kill, the sixth drops an additional item—a pair of boxing gloves.

I realize that just reading these few dry lines must have wearied you. Yet I must tell you, this is the sum total of six days and nights of relentless toil—a proud testament to the great wisdom forged by diligent laborers in the course of productive work.

Ever since our guild leader, Miss Fei Yin, learned that the boxing gloves granted additional attributes, she swiftly rallied all guild members. Leading a vast contingent, they marched grandly toward East Childerd Port. Their sole aim: to gather as many pairs of boxing gloves as possible, and as quickly as possible.

As a result, the pirates outside East Childerd Port found themselves truly unlucky. Often unaware, they would be ambushed by adventurers many levels above them, twenty or more, who would pummel them to the ground before greedily scavenging their meager remains like ravenous ghouls.

These frenzied madmen showed no awareness of their status as experts over level 40. Even when facing pirates barely over level 30, they rarely fought alone. Like swarms of dangerous locusts, they surged forth, then swept away, leaving nothing but the dead behind. Calling them "adventurers" is an overstatement; they are nothing more than ruthless bandits preying on their own kind. Their proficiency in stealth attacks, blunt force, pickpocketing, and grave robbing is so refined that even their pirate rivals feel ashamed.

This ruthless internecine disaster soon spread to every pirate camp near East Childerd Port. Every attacked camp was left as clean as if raked thrice over, with every item of value taken. What remained barely held the worth of a copper coin—you surely know whose handiwork this resembles.

For the pirates, this unforeseen calamity was fiercely destructive, an unprecedented hardship. But for the planners and executors of this disaster, it was merely a reconnaissance mission to gauge the likelihood of boxing gloves dropping nearby.

After a thorough and detailed survey, Fei Yin gained a rough understanding of where these gloves might appear. We were immediately dispatched to various locations to begin our “watchpoint” duty.

Find a harmless target. Calmly bring him down. Loot his possessions. Then seek the next one. This has been my entire life for days on end. Sounds enviable, doesn't it? Simple, safe, unburdened—an almost perfect job.

But let me tell you this: if someone offers you the choice between taking a rusty kitchen knife to slay a dragon or spending a week guarding a low-level spot like this, I strongly advise sharpening the knife—because point-guarding is not a task one can manage on sheer will alone.

At first, I did enjoy a period of ease and satisfaction. Taking down those weak pirates barely over level 30, I felt invincible, and it fed my vanity. But gradually, as this exhilarating self-inflation faded, a growing malaise gnawed at my heart—boredom.

Yes, boredom. There are moments when you suddenly realize there is nothing around you worth your attention, no concerns, no worries. Everything moves orderly toward a fixed direction, and your existence feels utterly dispensable. At such times, you grow listless and weary—yes, utterly bored.

Beyond slaying pirates and collecting boxing gloves, I began to fixate on meaningless things to fill my parched spirit. I calculated the precise drop rate of boxing gloves and paid special attention to which position’s pirate carried the special gear. I learned to predict each pirate’s wandering route and their next destination.

A dreadful loneliness pressed upon me, making me restless and irritable. While waiting alone for a pirate to pass, my heart felt as if being eaten away by worms, desperate to see a pirate’s silhouette like a faithful companion. Yet when one finally appeared, I was eager to kill him at once, as if even a second’s glance would disgust me.

I scrutinized my surroundings, hoping desperately for any change—be it a pirate’s misstep, a drifting leaf, a sudden shift in the sea breeze. But no, nothing changed. All remained as before, as if the hands of the gods executed this without error.

In a daze, I seemed to return to my days standing guard at Kampnavia’s city gate. Except for me, nothing changed; and my own changes could not affect a thing.

But now, I am no longer that city gate guard. This endless repetition, this insipid monotony, nearly drove me to the brink of collapse.

It is said among seasoned adventurers that only professional players or madmen can endure guarding a single spot until boredom kills them. Whatever these so-called “professionals” are, I am clearly not one of them. All this is pushing me toward madness.

To avoid losing my mind, I quickly found ways to pass the time:

I experimented with different methods to kill pirates of the same level, selecting the most efficient skill combinations. This was a complicated mathematical project. Using some alchemical theory I had learned, I discovered that simply rehearsing every possible skill combination would take around sixty-four years and thirty-nine and a half days. Factoring in critical hits, resistances, misses, and countless other unknown variables would require knowledge of “iterative convergence of generalized relative gain arrays of two permutation matrices” or the like. So, I gave up.

In the remaining three and a half days, I counted the leg hairs on pirate corpses, measured how large a stride had to be to cover ninety-nine steps from one end of the path to the other, and even pondered an alchemical molecular proof that when a Stormhorn fresh cake falls from over two meters, the probability of cream-side down is 0.544% higher than non-cream side down.

Just as I was about to prove the hypothesis that “if every closed curve in a closed space can be shrunk to a point, then the space must be a three-dimensional sphere” (the Poincaré conjecture), and made breakthrough progress on the conjecture that “any odd number greater than or equal to seven is the sum of three primes, and any even number greater than or equal to four is the sum of two primes” (the Goldbach conjecture), I finally received a magical message from Guild Leader Fei Yin:

“Bring all the boxing gloves you have collected. Assemble at the East Childerd Port city gate.”

I immediately cast aside all my time-wasting mathematical amusements and shed tears of joy I could hardly contain. No exaggeration—I fled like a wild dog with its leash cut loose. I swear, no matter who, never again will I lay eyes upon a palm tree in this life.

After six days of tireless effort by all guild members, we collected a total of six thousand four hundred sixty-seven pairs of boxing gloves. Fei Yin nodded lightly, apparently satisfied with the results. I did not understand the purpose of stockpiling so many gloves—once their special effect became known, anyone could easily obtain a pair from the pirates nearby. Then, even a fool would realize our hoard would be worthless.

“Guild leader, what exactly do you want us to do with all this junk?” B-flat Nocturne plopped down on the ground, loudly complaining. His question immediately drew many agreeing voices.

Fei Yin shot him a sharp glance, then picked up a pair of gloves and demonstrated their effect on the spot.

For reasons unknown, Fei Yin had not disclosed the gloves' special purpose to the rest of the guild. Except for her, myself, Buxiao, and the healer Candlelight, everyone else was discovering the gloves’ magic for the first time. Excitement surged through the group; the dull fatigue of recent days vanished instantly, and all complaints flew away. Everyone eagerly chose a pair to wear, sighing with joy, feeling their hard work well rewarded.

“That’s how it is...” Fei Yin glanced at her subordinates, “This bug is a big one... For a small guild, this is both bad and good. Bad because we can’t monopolize this bug’s resources. Good because we are few, so the news won’t leak quickly.”

She suddenly smiled slyly: “...So, for the next day, everyone must follow my orders. This is our guild’s first collective operation. If we succeed, we won’t have to scrape by ever again.”

“Isn’t it only us who are scraping by?” Bull Million snorted loudly, narrowing his eyes and sneaking a glance at the glittering Fei Yin.

“What did you say?” A chill swept the air, magical elements restless. “I remember someone last time bought a bracelet and still owes the guild over seven hundred gold coins. Bull Million, today’s New Year’s Eve. We can’t delay your debt any longer. If you really can’t pay...”

“Guild leader, I swear I’ll obey!” Bull Million’s face went pale. He thumped his chest to affirm his resolve, then muttered quietly:

“I wish I had a Xi’er to pay my debt...”

“No Xi’er? Let the fairy come down and pay your debt instead...” B-flat Nocturne sneered, provoking laughter. Amid the laughter, the elven druid girl Fairy Downcast blushed deeply and hid behind Bull Million.

“Ahem...” Fei Yin cleared her throat, halting the commotion. “...If this deal goes through, the guild’s finances will relax considerably, and some debts can be wiped clean...” She glanced meaningfully around.

“Guild leader, rest assured, my lips are sealed!”

“Not a word, even under threat of death!”

“Anyone who leaks the news, we’ll each spit on him to death!”

“To avoid slip-ups, I’m uninstalling my sound card driver now.”

“I’m logging off for half a day!”

“Hey, did the guild leader say something just now? I didn’t hear a thing...”

I glanced sideways and noticed a general rule: the more debt one owes, the louder their protests.

Satisfied with the unanimous agreement, Fei Yin nodded. She cleared her throat and continued:

“Now, let's assign tasks...”