An Xiaomei was swallowed by a glowing sphere of light and instantly teleported to a new location. In the blink of an eye, she found herself in a completely different area.
This time, she stood in the middle of a wild forest—dense with trees and thick vegetation. Yet the forest was eerily silent. There wasn't the faintest sound of animals or insects, and the unnatural stillness made her uneasy.
A familiar voice soon echoed in her ears—the game assistant was online again:
"This round of the Cold Season Tournament involves a total of 500 adventurers.
Within this jungle, 1,000 resource manifestation treasure chests have been hidden. Inside each chest are Resource Manifestation Cards, containing the resources needed by your respective nations.
The treasure chests can only be opened after the event ends, but adventurers are allowed to fight and steal from each other.
Only the top fifty adventurers with the most chests will earn rewards for their countries.
The remaining 450 countries will suffer penalties:
• For nations that already have manifested resources — their resource quantities will be reduced to one-third of their current scale.
• For nations that have never manifested any resources — they will no longer be allowed to send new adventurers to replace those who die.
The event will last for 24 hours. We hope every adventurer fights with everything they have—for the glory of your homeland!"
The rules sounded complicated, but to An Xiaomei, the meaning was painfully simple:
If she didn't make it into the top fifty, Dragon Nation's manifested resources would be drastically reduced.
The live broadcast announcement of the rules threw world leaders into panic—especially those from countries that hadn't yet manifested any resources at all.
At a high-level meeting in the island nation, the newly appointed Prime Minister's face was dark with frustration. He never imagined that despite their adventurers' decent combat strength, they still hadn't managed to obtain even one manifested resource.
"I have a feeling that we'll definitely succeed in this round. What do you all think?"
He didn't sound confident, but he still had to boost morale—both for his people and for himself.
"Prime Minister, please rest assured," one of his allies said quickly. "This time, four of our adventurers made it to the finals. Two of them have military backgrounds, one is a professional boxer, and the last one's a strong fighter as well.
With this lineup, our nation will definitely be fine. We might even surpass our old rival—Dragon Nation!"
The Prime Minister's sour mood eased slightly at those words, though he still sighed.
"Still… seeing how fast Dragon Nation is rising—it worries me."
Everyone at the table understood the meaning behind his unfinished words.
After all the atrocities their country had committed in the past, it was only natural they feared revenge from the victims.
What frightened them most was that Dragon Nation's national strength had already become the world's number one. How could that not make these black-hearted officials restless and afraid?
"Don't worry too much," said a shrewd diplomat, his tone oily and confident.
"I actually think Dragon Nation might stumble this time. If you think carefully about the rules, they're extremely unfavorable to the countries that already have manifested resources.
The nations that never manifested anything before are bound to band together for survival.
When that happens, who can say which side victory will favor?"
His reasoning made sense, and everyone around the table nodded vigorously. Compared to empty optimism, the diplomat's cold logic sounded far more convincing.
And indeed, events soon unfolded exactly as he predicted.
Several weaker countries' adventurers began forming alliances—and the first target they agreed to suppress was none other than Dragon Nation.
They even elected a leader: Dalman Raha, an adventurer from Country M.
Perhaps because many of them were used to following M Country's lead, they willingly let him command them.
Of course, the island nation had tried to seize leadership, but none of the other adventurers trusted or liked them, so they quickly gave up that idea.
Dalman Raha addressed the growing coalition in a steady, persuasive tone:
"We must curb Dragon Nation's rapid rise.
If they continue developing at this pace, it's only a matter of time before they become a global threat to every one of us.
I believe none of you want to see that happen, right?"
He was clever—he knew his coalition was made up of loose, self-serving individuals.
So he gave them a common enemy, something to unite their fear and hatred around.
The effect was immediate.
"Yeah! I've long had enough of those Dragon Nation bastards. We have to stop them!"
"Exactly! Back in the day, our countries were the advanced civilizations. Now that a nation we once looked down on stands above us? I refuse to accept that!"
"We've got sixty-seven people here. What are we afraid of? First thing's first—wipe out the Dragon Nation adventurers! They've hogged the top spot in the resource rankings for too long!"
…
Dalman Raha watched their faces twist with fury, and a pleased smirk tugged at his lips.
Good. Let them get angry.
As long as they had a common target, controlling them would be easy—and then victory would be his.
Of course, what the others didn't know was that he possessed a special item—the Mind-Suggestion Drum. When activated, it subtly influenced weaker-willed individuals, making them far more susceptible to his words.
Meanwhile, on An Xiaomei's end, things were progressing relatively smoothly.
Perhaps because she had spawned farther from the main group, she didn't encounter any other adventurers during her first hour.
She managed to find two treasure chests—one near a small stream and another in the branches of a pine tree.
Still, she remained cautious, her psychic senses constantly active, scanning her surroundings for danger.
Then, suddenly, her mental radar picked up something—a kilometer away, a bloody figure appeared out of thin air on the empty ground.
The abruptness of it could mean only one thing: someone had used a spatial scroll to teleport there.
Her eyes narrowed.
If that person was a foreign adventurer, then this was a perfect opportunity for her to strike—a fat, juicy chance dropped right from the heavens.
Without hesitation, she sprinted toward the scene.
Two minutes later, she stood before the blood-soaked figure.
Frowning, she pulled some water from her backpack and splashed it on his face.
As the blood was washed away, his features gradually became visible—and An Xiaomei froze.
It was someone she knew.
Xu Qiang.
Seriously? Every time she ran into him, he was in a miserable state.
His entire body was covered in blade wounds—his clothes torn into ragged strips, his face marked by a deep, bone-revealing gash.
The cold water jolted him slightly awake, and he muttered weakly, almost delirious:
"These… these are our country's resources… I won't… let you take them…"