Mu Ke stood frozen, megaphone in hand, forced to relive the single most embarrassing minute of his life as the battered device wheezed out its final words.

“Privacy Settings.”

The megaphone finally fell silent.

Already mortified enough to curl his toes inside his shoes, Mu Ke pretended nothing had happened and pressed on, though the confidence in his voice had noticeably weakened.

“...Bai Liu sent us to find you and invite you to help build a better guild.”

The members of the Carrion Guild stared first at the broken copper megaphone in Mu Ke’s hand, then slowly shifted their gaze to his face as he stood atop the table.

No one said a word.

But Mu Ke could clearly read the same message in every pair of eyes.

That’s it?

Mu Ke: “...”

An awkward silence settled over both sides, as though someone had pressed a pause button.

Mu Shicheng remained stationed in front of the entrance, unmoving. None of the players present possessed the ability to force their way past him.

At the same time, their own resolve was equally firm.

Even trapped here, they had no intention of giving up their chance to join the Kings Guild for the sake of some unfamiliar guild leader who was currently under siege.

Anyone who had survived in this game for so long had mastered one skill above all others:

Seeking advantage and avoiding danger.

Taking a deep breath, Mu Ke raised the megaphone again.

A burst of harsh feedback rang through the cramped ground floor of the low-rent apartment building before his clear voice followed.

“We won’t stop anyone who wants to join the Kings Guild. If that’s your choice, then go ahead.”

His gaze swept across the crowd.

“But the people we truly want to talk to are those who are tired of being exploited and controlled by large guilds yet have nowhere else to go.”

“If you’re sick of being a disposable bottom-tier member—someone who gets squeezed dry and harvested at every turn...”

“If you’re tired of living in fear, struggling desperately only to become someone else’s ‘leek’ all over again, surviving without dignity, without autonomy...”

“Then listen to what I have to say.”

Mu Ke’s eyes remained steady.

“Because this may offer you a completely different choice.”

The room fell quiet.

“Once I’m finished, regardless of your decision, we’ll let you leave.”

The players still looked skeptical.

Yet curiosity had unmistakably appeared in their eyes.

Reason told them that no such ideal option could possibly exist under the current order of the game.

Still, they wanted to hear it.

Maybe they wanted to see how this young player intended to sell such an impossible dream.

Or perhaps, deep down, there remained a tiny sliver of hope.

A hope that somewhere, somehow, a better choice than the Kings Guild might actually exist.

In this game, very few solo players survived for long.

It was a simple law of survival.

Under extreme conditions, the odds of a group surviving together were far greater than those of an individual struggling alone.

Like people stranded in a frozen wilderness—those who huddled together for warmth always had a better chance than those left by themselves.

Within a group, the weak might be exploited.

They might be sacrificed.

They might even be trampled beneath the feet of the strong for amusement.

But if surrendering one’s dignity meant surviving a little longer, then many ordinary players were willing to make that trade.

Cowardly.

Pathetic.

Yet undeniably practical.

Gradually, the crowd stopped pushing toward Mu Shicheng.

Instead, they drifted back.

Their eyes remained wary and suspicious as they watched Mu Ke, but their bodies betrayed them. One after another, they moved closer to the table where he stood, choosing to stay and hear about this mysterious “different choice.”

Most of these players had spent years living in low-rent housing.

Their appearances resembled those of people trapped in real-world slums for decades—disheveled, exhausted, and devoid of spirit.

When they relaxed, their faces revealed an unconscious emptiness.

A hollow numbness.

As though endless suffering had gradually worn °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° away their minds.

Watching them crowd together beneath him, lifting blank and lifeless eyes toward the table, Mu Ke was suddenly reminded of a refugee camp.

In a game where appearances could be altered at will, players who looked like this were almost always among the lowest ranks.

They no longer cared about appearance.

They no longer had dreams.

They no longer had standards.

They only had one desire.

To stay alive.

Standing more than a meter above them, Mu Ke looked down at the circle of faces surrounding him.

For a moment, he felt dazed.

Because within those dull, stagnant eyes, he saw something familiar.

The same thing he himself had once possessed.

A faint light.

A desperate, silent plea.

Save me.

And now, because of Mu Ke’s words, another faint light had begun to emerge in those eyes.

Hope.

Hope placed in the legendary newcomer who had yet to arrive.

The refugee currently surrounded by enemies.

Their future guild leader.

The person who had once saved Mu Ke himself.

Bai Liu.

“You said...” someone finally spoke up. “You said that Bai Liu is offering us another choice. What exactly is that choice?”

Mu Ke inhaled slowly.

“It’s a trade.”

“Bai Liu wants to make a trade with all of you.”

“After the agreement is made, he’ll be responsible for training you and helping you develop the skills necessary to clear games independently and support yourselves.”

“But in return, as a group, you’ll pay him a monthly salary.”

The crowd blinked.

“A monthly salary?”

“Yes.”

“The payment will be split evenly among everyone. Once his salary has been paid, everything else you earn belongs entirely to you.”

“Whether it’s points, items, rewards, or resources—he won’t take any of it.”

“Not a single point.”

“Not a single item.”

“And certainly not the outrageous commissions other guilds demand.”

The crowd erupted.

“He won’t take commissions?”

“Is that real?”

“He’ll train us too?”

Mu Ke nodded without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Bai Liu has no interest in becoming an upper class that rules over you.”

“He won’t control you.”

“He won’t exploit you.”

“He’ll simply help you improve, help you earn more points and resources, and in exchange you pay him a monthly salary.”

A small smile appeared on Mu Ke’s face.

“Do you know how entertainment agencies work?”

“Rather than a guild leader, Bai Liu would prefer to act as your manager.”

“He’ll coordinate resources, create training plans, and design the most suitable growth path for each of you within this game.”

The smile deepened.

“Your new guild leader doesn’t enjoy being above others.”

“He told me that if you agree to this trade, then you become the clients paying him.”

“The people paying him are the bosses.”

“That means every one of you will be the true owners of this guild.”

“He intends to delegate the authority of the guild leader to all of you and allow the guild to exist as a community.”

The room descended into chaos.

No one had ever heard of such an absurd guild model.

It sounded like someone was describing a perfect utopia.

And because it sounded so perfect, it felt terrifying.

The listeners remained suspicious.

Remained afraid.

Yet the more beautiful the vision became, the more desperately they wanted to believe it.

They gathered in clusters, whispering among themselves.

And without realizing it, they moved closer and closer to Mu Ke.

Further and further from the door.

How could someone willingly give away their own power?

It sounded like a fairy tale.

A beautiful lie crafted specifically to lure them in.

The game was filled with people far smarter than they were.

They had seen countless shining promises before.

But this time...

They couldn’t stop themselves from wanting to hear more.

A trembling voice rose from the crowd.

“If... if Guild Leader Bai truly intends to do this...”

“How does he plan to give up those privileges?”

“If you agree to cooperate,” Mu Ke replied calmly, “you’ll see for yourselves.”

He tapped his game panel.

“Before entering the game, your new guild leader prepared a large number of documents and sent them to me.”

“Now I’ll show them to you.”

A document appeared on the floating system screen.

Seventy-Eight Explanatory Regulations Regarding the Division and Transfer of Carrion Guild Management Rights

Scrolling down revealed Bai Liu’s signature already placed at the bottom.

Only the signature line for Party B remained blank.

“Bai Liu signed thousands of copies.”

Mu Ke displayed the contracts one by one.

“If you accept his proposal, I’ll distribute them immediately and allow each of you to sign as Party B.”

His expression remained composed.

“Bai Liu isn’t merely talking about sharing the guild’s benefits.”

“He intends to legally transfer those rights to every one of you.”

“Each of you will own a part of this guild.”

“Not metaphorically.”

“Literally.”

“Through a system-recognized contract.”

“You will become guild leaders in the truest sense.”

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The entire apartment building became so quiet that even a pin drop would have sounded deafening.

The players’ breathing grew ragged.

Their pupils dilated.

Their chests rose and fell rapidly as they stared at the document Mu Ke held above his head.

Desperate to see every word.

Mu Ke crouched on the tabletop and lowered the panel to make it easier to read.

In this game, almost everything could be faked.

Names.

Appearances.

Items.

Skills.

Even identities.

But there was one thing that could never be forged.

A system-certified contract.

That was real.

Absolutely real.

“It’s real!”

A player suddenly shouted after verifying it.

“It’s a real contract!”

“A real contract signed by Guild Leader Bai!”

The building exploded.

The lifeless numbness vanished from countless faces.

In its place appeared excitement.

Disbelief.

Arguments.

Laughter.

Tears.

Expressions long absent from these bottom-tier players surfaced one after another.

They no longer looked like walking corpses.

They looked alive.

Only after considerable effort did Mu Ke finally calm the crowd enough for conversation to resume.

The first player to regain composure stepped forward.

“We’re incredibly grateful to Bai Liu—”

He immediately corrected himself.

“To Guild Leader Bai.”

“We truly want to cooperate with him.”

“But there’s one thing we’d like to ask.”

“What is it?” Mu Ke asked.

The players exchanged nervous glances.

They rubbed their clenched fists anxiously against their chests.

Gone was the dismissive attitude they had shown before.

Now they leaned forward sincerely.

“Guild Leader Bai is offering us so much.”

“What exactly does he want in return?”

“People like us...”

“Can we really afford whatever price he asks?”

“You absolutely can.”

Mu Ke smiled.

“There’s something each of you possesses that Guild Leader Bai considers extremely valuable.”

The players looked bewildered.

“What could people like us possibly have that would be worth all this?”

Mu Ke’s smile softened.

“Guild Leader Bai wants your souls.”

Author’s Note:

Friend: A strange new guild has appeared.jpg

Friend: This is basically Bai Liu using a dimensionality-reduction strike against every other guild, right? I already feel sorry for them.

Me: Charge forward, Guild Leader Bai!