Universe Infinite Canteen-Chapter 389: The Final Farewell

I fucking worked my liver out and after meeting Zhen Ye, I had a terrible night’s sleep. The next day when I logged on, I couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the Black Mud, and all I could think about was reincarnating as a dog to get that hidden origin.

But in the end, I still couldn’t bear to leave the 435 pieces of Black Mud I had already collected, so I decided to pick up the remaining 65 pieces first.

That dog with the ID Random Beat was a special case; I fucking worked my liver out feeling I must still be the first one in the entire server to complete the backpack quest.

It still might trigger a follow-up hidden quest or reward.

So, with high hopes, I fucking worked my liver out and picked up the remaining Black Mud and took it to that selfish Quartermaster.

But... apart from a crappy backpack, he really got nothing.

I fucking stood there holding that crappy backpack, freezing in place for 5 minutes, and finally, overwhelmed with anger, I just logged off.

He didn’t even log on for a week afterward and switched to playing Pinocchio’s Lies instead.

But after finishing Pinocchio’s Lies, he fell into a gaming drought again and then remembered the previously abandoned Red Ridge.

Mainly, without comparisons, it seemed okay, but once compared, the modeling and scenes of Red Ridge as well as its god-tier optimization, were indeed the best I fucking experienced in all the games I had played.

It’s just that the quest rewards were too stingy. I fucking worked my liver out early and late in the game for half a month and only ended up with a crappy backpack.

The most crucial part was that other players got the crappy backpack easily, which was a huge blow to me.

Foll𝑜w current novels on fɾēewebnσveℓ.com.

It also became the main reason for him quitting the game; after all, no one wants their hard work to become a joke.

But though he said as much, I fucking still couldn’t help but put Red Ridge’s game disc back into the CD drive.

He convinced himself that he just logged on to check out the game’s characters and modeling, just to satiate his eyes, deciding he wouldn’t touch the quests anymore.

Believe it or not, making that decision made him feel much lighter and he didn’t hate watching the game as much anymore.

Over the next few days, he logged on whenever he wanted, not taking up any quests but just wandering around the town, mainly trying some cyber tourism.

But after four days, he also got a bit tired of it; the town was only so big, he had seen all there was to see, and his level was too low to leave the town.

So, I fucking truly prepared to quit the game this time. That evening he logged into Red Ridge for the last time, coming to the edge of the Muddy Swamp where he had battled countless days and nights.

Watching the Slime Monsters joyously spewing Black Mud inside, I fucking wondered why they could be so carefree. Read the latest on novelbuddy

Oh, it’s because they don’t have to do those damn quests.

And only a fool would come here to painstakingly pick up the Black Mud they spew out. Just as I fucking self-mocked, I saw another fool, no, a new player approaching.

This player’s ID was quite impressive, called Warlords of the Nine Heavens.

I fucking thought, it’s 2023; and people are still picking such old-fashioned usernames.

But I just ridiculed him in my mind and upon seeing the player, I fucking still greeted him and typed,

"Are you here for the backpack quest?"

The player named Warlords of the Nine Heavens answered, "Yeah, I just took up the quest."

This time I only typed two words: "Run fast."

"What’s wrong?"

I showed Warlords of the Nine Heavens the crappy backpack behind me.

"Heh, just for this thing, I picked up Black Mud here for 20 days to get it, that’s a whole 20 days."

"The key issue is that this thing only has 12 slots, plus there’s a weight limit, and if you carry too much, your movement speed decreases. But the worst part is you drop it all upon death.

"Not just the stuff inside, but the backpack itself drops too!!! Then you have to come back and keep picking up Black Mud, pick for 20 days before you can trade for another backpack!!!"

I freakin’ exploded and let out all the pent-up grumbling I had saved up.

"This task feels like it’s not made for humans. The values look like they were set without a brain. What’s the use of good modeling optimization when hardly anyone can keep playing?"

Warlords of the Nine Heavens didn’t rush, quietly waiting for him to finish ranting before saying, "Bro, are you planning not to play anymore?"

I freakin’ nodded vigorously, "Last day, after this, I probably won’t be logging on again."

"What about your backpack..."

"Huh?"

"Don’t worry, I won’t let you suffer a loss, how about 6000?"

"6000 what?"

"I want to buy your backpack for 6000 bucks," Warlords of the Nine Heavens repeated.

I freakin’ gasped, "You want to pay 6000 bucks for this crappy bag, wait, you’re not a scammer, are you?"

"Send me your Alipay account, I can transfer the money to you first, then you give me the bag, so you don’t have to worry about getting scammed," Warlords of the Nine Heavens said reassuringly.

"What if I’m a scammer though?"

Warlords of the Nine Heavens laughed, "I am quite good at judging people, bro, you seem like someone who’s very trustworthy, and even if I’m wrong, it’s just a loss of 6000 bucks."

I freakin’ tentatively sent over my Alipay account, and in less than a minute, a notification chime sounded in my ears.

I freakin’ set down the mouse and picked up my phone on the side, checking it.

There really was a transfer notification, exactly 6000 bucks.

I freakin’ realized that I had encountered a big spender today and couldn’t restrain my joy, quickly typing out.

"Thanks, boss. Boss is so generous."

But after typing that message, I suddenly remembered something very essential, "Wait, is the backpack tradable?"

As one of only two players in this game with a backpack, I had never tried such a sly move as trading a backpack.

Based on my experience in other games, an item as fundamental as a backpack usually isn’t tradable.

Thinking of the 6000 bucks I just got, which I hadn’t even enjoyed yet, returning it felt like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.

In contrast, Warlords of the Nine Heavens was quite calm, "Didn’t you say you drop the backpack when you die? If it can’t be traded, you could just die once and let me pick it up."

I freakin’ froze, realizing for the first time that this game’s shitty settings weren’t completely useless.

And when I tried to trade, I really did find my backpack in the trading interface.

It refreshed my understanding once again, not to mention, in terms of freedom, this game was at least two major versions ahead of other similar games.

I had been full of resentment for this crappy backpack with its strict collection criteria and only 12 slots, but now, I saw it in a new light.

After all, it just earned me a freakin’ 6000 bucks.

Unfortunately, there were still too few players in this game. Who knows when I would run across another big spender. Otherwise, I freakin’ wouldn’t think of leaving, considering just settling down at the edges of Muddy Swamp to farm backpacks.