In the car on the way back, Bai Liu, sitting in the passenger seat, briefly explained his plans for the league.
"You want to compete this year?" Tang Erda frowned.
"I think it's too rushed. There are only two months left, and both you and Mu Ke are still 48 and 49 entries short of the league requirement," Liu Jiayi said, slumping in his seat. "Signing up for both will be difficult."
Bai Liu turned slightly toward Tang Erda, who was seated directly behind him. "Captain Tang, do you have any suggestions? If you were leading us, what would be the fastest time to clear a copy?"
Tang Erda's frown deepened. "I don't know your current situation well enough to estimate."
Bai Liu adjusted his question. "If it were you, what would be your fastest time clearing a Level 3 copy, measured in real time?"
"Thirty-one minutes," Tang Erda answered without hesitation.
Liu Jiayi, drinking water in the back seat, choked violently. Mu Ke, who was driving, nearly swerved off the road when he heard the number.
They exclaimed in unison, "How did you clear it that fast?!"
Thirty-one minutes to complete a Level 3 game—what kind of monster was he?
"Time in the game dimension is converted into real time through two stages," Tang Erda explained calmly. "First, it converts into dimensional time in the system lobby, and then that converts into real time."
"In-game time isn't converted based on how long you spend inside the game, but according to the ending you achieve."
He continued, "A game usually has three endings: [bad end], [normal end], and [true end]."
"The [bad end] results in invalid dimensional time. If a player dies or turns into a monster, their time becomes stagnant from the moment they enter the game. It no longer converts into dimensional or real-time."
"The [true end], which you often achieve, converts into the longest duration. It usually becomes 3.5 to 5.5 dimensional hours in the system lobby, which then converts to roughly 21 to 27 hours in reality."
Bai Liu stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Is there a fixed conversion ratio between dimensional time and real time?"
Tang Erda shook his head. "No. There seems to be a pattern, but it's fluid. It remains consistent for a period, then changes again. I haven't found a fixed ratio—only estimates."
Bai Liu narrowed his eyes.
The fluid and indeterminate time conversion laws between reality and the system…
Aren't they exactly the same as the conversion rules between a game copy and the system lobby?
Combined with what he had seen in the [Future], Bai Liu was almost certain that [Reality] itself was another kind of game copy dimension.
If [Reality] was also a copy within the system, then the time conversion standard between reality and the system should correspond to a different "ending" line.
For a certain period, the system and reality would maintain a stable conversion rule—likely because the player was following a fixed ending route. But once the player shifted to another ending path, the time conversion rule would change as well.
So now… which ending was he walking toward in this copy called [Reality]?
[True end], [normal end], or [bad end]?
"And the fastest way to clear a copy," Tang Erda continued, "is to follow the [normal end] route. Don't explore monster books. Don't search for hidden clues. Just kill the boss and fulfill the quest conditions directly."
"My fastest record was seventeen minutes for a single Level 2 copy."
Liu Jiayi slumped back in his seat, completely stunned.
Seventeen minutes for a Level 2 copy…
At that speed, even clearing four at a time, two months would be more than enough to qualify for the league.
The league was terrifyingly strong.
"But two months is still too short to prepare for the league," Tang Erda warned seriously. "Even if you qualify, your overall strength is still far behind the average league player. Training is more important than simply meeting the entry requirement."
"After registering, you'll need to train in the [Game Pool] at least sixty times and gain a solid understanding of league copies and rules before officially competing."
Liu Jiayi raised her hand and added, "And popularity is extremely important. You need to build audience support outside the game and recharge votes. Players who rank in the top 100 in popularity during Support Season receive a [Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card] for the league."
Mu Ke blinked, slightly overwhelmed. "What's the [Game Pool]? And what's a [Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card]?"
As a novice, he had only just grasped the lobby's basic rules and knew far less about league mechanics than Tang Erda or Liu Jiayi.
Liu Jiayi pressed a hand to her forehead. "Right, you're new. Listen carefully. The [Game Pool] is a special division accessible only to registered league players. It's mainly used for internal training."
Tang Erda nodded. "It has its own game selection interface and entry portals. Matches played there aren't broadcast publicly—no small TV coverage. It's also called the [Non-Small TV Zone]."
"More importantly," Liu Jiayi continued seriously, "games in the [Game Pool] allow players to log out at any time. That's the special protection the system grants registered league players."
"To ensure they survive to compete, players can exit a game in the [Game Pool] if their life is in danger—by paying a certain number of points."
Bai Liu raised an eyebrow. "The league must be extremely important to the system."
The system even created a protected training zone, temporarily giving up harvesting players' souls, to guarantee league participation.
"Don't underestimate it," Tang Erda said quietly. "The copies in the [Game Pool] are all Level 3 and directly connected to league difficulty. Many players die before they can even log out."
"Exactly," Liu Jiayi agreed. "Previous league match copies were randomly drawn from the [Game Pool]. Big guilds usually clear 52 entries immediately after the previous season ends, then train intensely in the [Game Pool] all year."
"Is that why we rarely see elite guild members outside?" Mu Ke asked.
"Yes," Tang Erda replied calmly. "Most powerful players train in the [Game Pool]. The ones you see in the [Small TV Zone] are star players sent out for promotion."
"But star players aren't weak," Liu Jiayi countered. "Most of them are extremely strong."
Mu Ke looked confused. "Star players?"
Bai Liu took out a pen and paper from the glove compartment and wrote several keywords, circling one: [Death-Free Gold Medal].
"The existence of star players is related to this, isn't it?"
Tang Erda was silent for a moment. "Yes."
"League matches cannot be logged out. A winner must be decided, which usually means the losing team is wiped out."
Bai Liu tapped the words [Value Maximization] lightly. "But if an entire team disappears every match, the league loses valuable assets and audience attachment. That's bad for profit."
"In that case, a prop that preserves high-value players—the league's [Exemption Gold]—becomes necessary."
Liu Jiayi nodded. "Once a player obtains a [Death-Free Gold Medal], the system automatically logs them out when their life or mental value drops to a critical level during a match."
"These medals are awarded based on popularity. That's why Support Season exists. Two months before the league begins, major guilds promote their teams aggressively and push their star players."
"If a team has one or two extremely popular star players, their fans will recharge votes for the entire team, ensuring everyone gets protection."
She began counting on her fingers. "Hearts from King's Guild. Spades from Slayer Sequence. Charles from the Gamblers' Alliance. Georgia from Golden Dawn. And Reverse God Inquisitor from Deer Hunter—though he transferred to Slayer Sequence this year."
"So Slayer Sequence now has two star players. Their Support Season is practically effortless."
She raised two fingers toward Bai Liu. "In our guild, I'm barely half a star player. It'll be hard for you to get a [Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card]. We'll need to figure out a way to promote you."
"It doesn't matter whether protection is granted by others," Tang Erda said coldly. "The league values strength."
Liu Jiayi rolled her eyes, pulled out a pair of goggles, and deliberately scanned Tang Erda from head to toe with exaggerated disdain.
"With your appearance, I understand why you're jealous of people like me who qualify as star players."
Tang Erda, bearded and disheveled, smelling faintly of roses and blood, looked more like a large stray dog Bai Liu had picked up off the street than a league captain.
He opened his mouth to retort, but after glancing at Liu Jiayi—barely reaching his waist—he seemed to reconsider. Arguing with a little girl would be pointless.
He turned away, staring silently out the window.
Liu Jiayi grinned victoriously and leaned forward behind Bai Liu's seat.
"Don't listen to him. The [Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card] is extremely important. Hearts showed me the league's survival statistics. Teams with star players have significantly higher survival rates."
Tang Erda's hand tightened unconsciously at the mention of survival rates. His expression stiffened, though his gaze drifted.
Maybe Liu Jiayi was right.
He had once believed strength alone was enough. He refused promotion, pushed his team into relentless training in the [Game Pool]—
And when they faced Bai Liu, everyone died except him.
Ironically, he was the only one holding an immunity card.
Bai Liu wrote the words [Star Player] on a small notepad and added a question mark beside them.
"I understand the importance of star players," he said, narrowing his eyes at Liu Jiayi, who was leaning over the back of his seat. "But they're not easy to cultivate, are they? Most star players earned that title by performing exceptionally well in the league itself, didn't they?"
"Relying solely on exposure in the [Small TV Zone] makes it extremely difficult to build a massive fan base— even for someone like you, Jiayi."
He calmly traced a line in the air toward her with his pen as he listed the facts.
"You have a naturally appealing appearance, a highly distinctive skill set, a top-tier guild investing heavily in your promotion, and the second-ranked star player paving the way for you."
"You've gathered nearly every advantage a pre-league player could hope for. But can you guarantee you'll secure a [Get-Out-of-Jail-Free Card] the moment you step into the league?"
Liu Jiayi froze.
Bai Liu asked lightly, "You can't, can you?"
He closed the notepad.
"I agree with Captain Tang on this point. For a team made up mostly of newcomers, it's more cost-effective to invest in something we can control—like strength—rather than something dependent on others, like popularity. The league is ultimately a contest of power, not fan votes. So for the next two months, our focus will primarily be training in the [Game Pool]."
A faint, chilling smile curved his lips as he glanced at Liu Jiayi, still stunned, and Tang Erda, who seemed both rigid and faintly relieved.
"But that doesn't mean we'll ignore audience support. We still have nearly fifty matches left in the [Small TV Zone] before qualifying for the [Game Pool]."
"We'll use those fifty games to attract as much audience support as possible."
His gaze drifted slowly to Tang Erda's tangled, unkempt hair.
"Let's begin by transforming Captain Tang into someone presentable enough for business."
Tang Erda: "...?????"
-------
Mu Sicheng coughed as he sprinted out the back door of the factory. After confirming that the Heretics Authority had completely taken over the chaotic RI factory—and had restrained the production director who was attempting to escape—he slipped away from the side entrance and sped off on his motorbike.
Pulling on his helmet and adjusting his single-ear monkey-shaped Bluetooth headset, Mu Sicheng dialed Bai Liu's number as the wind howled past him.
That idiot actually went out claiming he was the bomber, leaving Mu Sicheng in the relatively safer inner zone to stall for time.
Who knew what that deranged bunch from the Heretics Authority would do to Bai Liu once they got their hands on him?
The last time Bai Liu got involved, he'd practically lost half his life.
No matter how calmly Bai Liu insisted he had a plan, he was still just an ordinary person in the real world. What could he possibly do against an organization that massive?
Mu Sicheng took a deep breath, impatiently waiting for the call to connect.
When it finally did, he blurted out, "Bai Liu, are you okay? Where are you?"
"I'm fine," Bai Liu replied, his voice slightly unsteady. "I'm at—"
Before he could finish, a hysterical roar erupted in the background.
"Get away from me! What are you doing?! I'm not doing this!"
Mu Sicheng froze. That was Tang Erda's voice.
He slowed his bike and asked cautiously, "You got Tang Erda out of the Heretics Authority and subdued him?"
Bai Liu calmly held the phone closer to Tang Erda, who was strapped to a salon washing chair, covered in foam, and struggling weakly.
"You could interpret it that way."
"Let me go!" Tang Erda glared at the beautician approaching him with a strip of black wax in hand. "Put me down!"
Mu Sicheng's expression twisted between gloating and disbelief. "What are you doing to him? Torture? This is the real world, Bai Liu—don't go too far."
"I am not torturing Tang Erda," Bai Liu said patiently.
A muffled, deeply suppressed groan echoed from the background.
Mu Sicheng pulled over, entirely unconvinced. "Then what exactly are you doing?"
"Full-body grooming," Bai Liu replied, glancing at Tang Erda's legs covered in hair-removal strips. "More specifically, removing his leg hair."
The beautician gripped the edge of a strip and ripped it off cleanly.
Tang Erda clenched his fists and let out another strangled sound, his eyes faintly moist as he looked at Bai Liu almost pleadingly.
"Why do I have to go through this?!"
"I'm not sure," Bai Liu shrugged. "Ask Mu Ke. He brought us here and ordered the premium celebrity grooming package for you."
Tang Erda slowly turned toward Mu Ke.
Mu Ke smiled brightly. "This is the best men's celebrity grooming salon in the industry. A lot of popular stars come here for styling. I thought it would suit you too, Captain Tang—especially for business."
The beautician chimed in enthusiastically, "Yes! Zhao Muchi has been coming here for years! He had two hit dramas this year!"
She smiled sweetly as she tore off another strip without hesitation.
Tang Erda sucked in a sharp breath. "There's no need to go this far. I'm not going to show my legs on TV…"
"I think it's necessary," Mu Ke replied, stepping closer with a friendly smile. "You never know when you might."
The beautician paused briefly, glancing at Tang Erda's well-built physique with a slightly complicated expression.
Mu Ke quickly checked that Bai Liu was still turned away on the phone with Mu Sicheng, then leaned down and whispered into Tang Erda's ear, his smile unchanged.
"Did you think it was unnecessary when you drowned Bai Liu?"
Tang Erda's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
At that exact moment, Bai Liu turned around.
Mu Ke immediately stepped back and looked at Tang Erda's taped legs with exaggerated gentleness.
"I ordered the top-tier package for you, Captain Tang. No need to thank me—I'll cover the cost. It's a full-body semi-permanent manual hair removal treatment. It hurts a little, but the results are excellent."
He lightly patted Tang Erda's reddened thigh.
"Once you become a handsome businessman for our team, you'll thank me."
Tang Erda, whose entire body was beginning to ache: "..."
The beautician seized another strip near his inner thigh and pulled it off decisively while he was distracted.
Watching Tang Erda gradually lose the will to live in the salon chair, Bai Liu calmly gave Mu Sicheng their location.
On the other end of the line, Mu Sicheng removed his headset—still filled with muffled groans of pain—with a blank expression.