In the end, it was Zhao Nannan who broke the silence first. After she finished speaking, Liu Weian was stunned. The courier packages littering the floor hadn't even been cleaned up yet. Over four thousand Strength Seeds—over four thousand! Even if they were the relatively cheap kind harvested from Rotten Corpses, each was still worth nearly a gold coin, and the more valuable ones from the higher-tier zombies were worth even more. That meant, just like that, he had consumed over four thousand gold coins in a single day. The thought made Liu Weian's heart bleed.
It took him a long time to get over the pain before his thoughts drifted back to four days ago.
After the dazzling explosion of seven-colored divine light, the amber vanished from his hand and reappeared in his mind. At the same time, a torrential flood of information surged into his brain. It was too much—so overwhelming that he blacked out. When he regained consciousness, he found a colossal book embedded in the depths of his mind. Vast and boundless like the universe itself, the book had flipped open to its first page. On it was an image—something that looked like a star map.
Why did it seem like a star map? In Liu Weian's mind, anything that looked overly complex and incomprehensible he categorized as "stars," since humans have been staring at the night sky for millennia without ever truly understanding it.
He didn't understand the image at all, but it didn't stop him from gazing at it. The moment he did, his mind was drawn into it. He felt a strange heat rising from within his body. In a trance, he found himself naked in a vast desert, the scorching sun baking his skin until it cracked. Moisture evaporated from his body at an alarming rate. Just when he thought he would die, a spring of cool water suddenly surged from within, saving him. That spring continued to gush, nourishing his body. Looking back now, it must have been Zhao Nannan feeding him Strength Seeds.
With the help of the spring, he trudged through the desert for what felt like months before finally emerging—and then he woke up. Nothing had physically happened, but the cosmic book in his mind had vanished, leaving only the star map. Ninety-nine point nine percent of it was gray, with only a tiny fraction glowing faintly.
At that moment, four characters inexplicably surfaced in his mind: Dark Emperor Canon.
He didn't know where the name came from or why it appeared—it was simply there. And then, hunger struck him like a beast, as if he hadn't eaten in his entire life.
"You should get some rest." Seeing Zhao Nannan's exhausted face and messy hair, Liu Weian was moved. Now that she knew he was fine, she finally let herself relax and climbed into the top bunk. Soon, the sound of her soft snoring filled the room. Liu Weian devoured another roast suckling pig before putting on his helmet and logging into the game.
He reappeared in Stone City—and was instantly stunned.
The city, inside and out, was deserted. Corpses were everywhere. Some piled in heaps, others scattered individually. Blood had dyed the earth red. The city walls, trees, and dry grass were all splattered with it. Judging by the dried blood, the massacre had taken place about three days ago.
Here and there, scattered players looted the corpses, keeping their distance from each other, wary of ambushes. Liu Weian's eyes lit up. Without wasting a moment, he joined the looters.
Though the players were dead, their gear remained. Whoever found it first got to keep it—simple as that. Of course, if the original owner respawned in a month and recognized their gear, things could get complicated. But Liu Weian wasn't worried. He only cared about converting loot into gold.
Looting the dead was faster than farming monsters—everyone knew that. From Stone City to the wilderness, corpses littered the land. Liu Weian had logged in later than most, so the obvious bodies had already been picked clean. He sprinted toward the outskirts, targeting the less visible ones.
This was a real massacre.
From morning to dusk, Liu Weian didn't even stop for a drink. He looted hundreds, if not a thousand corpses. Along every road, every few meters, there was a body—sometimes several. Wild beasts could be seen gnawing on flesh, but when Liu Weian approached, they merely growled and didn't attack. With so much meat around, they couldn't be bothered to waste energy.
The only stroke of luck was that a handful of shops in Stone City were still open. Most had been ransacked, leaving fewer than ten in operation—all owned by major families: the Plum Blossom Society, the Sun family, the He family, the Zhao family. No wonder no one dared mess with them. Liu Weian only returned to town when his spatial ring was full. Each time, he ran into other looters carrying heavy weapons on their backs—they didn't have spatial gear and had to haul everything manually.
Thanks to his ring, Liu Weian could loot much faster than others, despite joining late.
He didn't watch the news, so he didn't know that while he was looting corpses, a far greater massacre was taking place hundreds of kilometers away. The bloodshed had started from Stone City and spread in all directions. Blades flashing, lives snuffed out like grass.
It all began four nights ago.
After Liu Weian used his Chain Arrow skill to kill the black-clad man and steal the amber, backup quickly arrived but found nothing. They reported the failure up the chain. Soon, the black-clad corpses were discovered by various major factions, and news spread like wildfire. Eventually, the information reached the ears of powerful players who had been silently watching all along.
Earth.
In a glittering metropolis, a 668-meter skyscraper shaped like a plum blossom stood tall. Inside a 200-square-meter office, a middle-aged man sipped crimson wine and sat silently, eyes half-closed. Before him stood a sharply dressed assistant, not daring to breathe too loudly.
"So… thousands of men went in, and the artifact still slipped away?" the man said at last, his voice flat and unreadable. The assistant shivered.
"My lord—"
"The artifact is dead. The men are alive. Turn the men into corpses—then the artifact won't escape."
"Understood." The assistant bowed, fear in his eyes.
"Go."
Pacific Ocean, deep beneath the waves.
Inside a massive pyramid, submarines glided past schools of fish. In a hidden chamber at the base, an old man with white hair sat cross-legged on a cushion. A middle-aged man knelt respectfully before him.
"Ancient Canon," the old man whispered. The dim chamber flared bright for a few seconds before dimming again. The kneeling man lowered his head even further.
"That legend… so close. Just one step away," the old man sighed. "Its appearance means it won't stay hidden. Go all in. Even if blood floods the world—it's worth it."
"Yes, sir!" The man bowed and left.
In a bamboo house hidden deep in the mountains, birds chirped, and the scent of flowers filled the air. A man in blue robes stepped out into the moonlight. Though he looked forty, the sorrow in his eyes revealed a life twice as long.
"Truth or illusion—who can really tell? Maybe... this is the turning point." His gaze hardened. He stepped back inside, picked up the phone, and spoke just one sentence.
"Whatever the cost…"
Underground, beneath a vast desert, a fortress teemed with machines. In a lab, white-coated scientists worked around a dissected corpse—organs replaced by gleaming machinery, skull peeled open. Shockingly, the corpse's eyes still moved—it was alive.
Suddenly, someone knocked. A bespectacled scientist left the lab, changed in the locker room, and was led to an office. He sat down. A beautiful secretary served tea and left silently.
"You look like you've failed," said the bespectacled man calmly.
"I've disappointed you."
"No one's seen the Ancient Canon in millennia. If it were easy, it wouldn't be a legend," he said softly, then his voice turned cold. "But I will have it—no matter the cost."
"Yes, sir." A chill ran down the subordinate's spine.
Similar scenes played out across Earth, Mars, and even Jupiter. Orders were issued.
By sunrise, as players logged in, the real slaughter began. Elite warriors, emerging from nowhere, killed thousands in minutes. The carnage radiated outward from Stone City, consuming every corner of the known game world.
The massacre lasted three days and nights.
It only ended when the Han Dynasty's emperor personally issued an order to stop the bloodshed. But by then, the damage was done—millions of players were forcibly logged out, banned for a month.