Chapter 250: The Ideator

【Name: “Unnamed” Guild Emblem】

【Type: Item】

【Effect:…】

The Guild Emblem is the technical support for enjoying guild rights and fulfilling guild responsibilities, and its most unique effect is that players can use it at any time to teleport back to the guild base from anywhere in the Ruins of the Sunset.

During the chaotic initial period after the Eerie Game descended, murder and treasure hunting were common in the Ruins of the Sunset, making this effect potentially lifesaving in critical moments.

However, after the major guilds jointly established a covenant, brawls drastically decreased, rendering this effect largely unnecessary.

There are also other effects, such as automatically deducting a percentage of reward points into the guild fund and logging reward item information into the guild database, none of which Lin Chen and Qi Si plan to activate for now.

The two of them are currently generals without an army, with no one to exploit; all resources would ultimately just pass from one hand to the other, making extra procedures unnecessary.

In the short term, the newly established Unnamed Guild is merely a facade for action, a ticket to enter the competition, and a blustering empty shell.

The ideal of the starry seas is certainly beautiful, but reality is harsh… Afterward, Qi Si took Lin Chen to stake out a piece of barren land to serve as a smokescreen for the guild base.

The Ruins of the Sunset is vast, and many players occupy land for side ventures, so the addition of these two won’t make a difference.

The place might be a bit dilapidated and sparsely populated, but with the “Unnamed Guild” sign erected, and the President and Vice President insisting it’s the guild base, who has evidence to prove otherwise?

It’s not like an established guild would risk its reputation to create a new guild just to try and claim this piece of land, is it?

After a day of effort, the guild was roughly established.

Lin Chen immediately returned to the Game Space via the World Tree root vine on the ground, while Qi Si strolled leisurely toward the main trunk of the World Tree.

The crowd in the plaza had mostly dispersed. It seemed Fu Jue and the others had only shown their faces briefly and left, without taking any constructive action.

The solitary black tower stood under the dark yellow sky, silent and desolate, like a zombie in an ancient tomb.

Players clustered around the ranking stele in front of the black tower, discussing animatedly.

“Another greenhorn actually started a guild. Do they have too much money to burn? Everyone knows a guild costs at least 100,000 a year to maintain.”

“The guild name is too careless—’Unnamed.’ They must be messing around, right? Though, I must admit, I always liked starting my own guild in every game I played…”

“You guys just don’t get it, do you? This guild might not be started by some clueless newcomer. It’s highly likely an empty shell created by an established guild for trial and error or to reserve a spot.”

“Hey, don’t say that. The name of the President doesn’t look simple. I’ve noticed the major guilds have been nervous lately, planning some big moves…”

“Mind your own business. It has nothing to do with us bottom-feeders just trying to get by.”

Just as Qi Si had predicted, the newly established Unnamed Guild attracted considerable attention.

After all, as the landscape of major forces in the Eerie Game stabilized, new guilds rarely appeared in recent years.

Even if one or two new guilds popped up, they were usually just empty shells—skin-swapped branches of established guilds, created for convenience of action.

New guilds lacking background are disadvantaged in many aspects like experience, item reserves, and connections, making it difficult for them to integrate into the circles of established guilds. Most naturally fade away due to intentional or unintentional neglect.

For the first decade or so, the major guilds still harbored the extravagant hope of clearing the Final Dungeon and enthusiastically supported nascent guilds.

But as the hierarchy of interests solidified and the hope of clearing the instance dimmed, they tasted the sweetness of exploiting newcomers and gradually lost the inclination for charity.

—They had endured hardships together and knew each other inside and out. Why should they allow new, unknown forces a seat at the table, thereby adding trouble and risk?

Some of the things Qi Si said to Lin Chen were alarmist, as the massive prize of the Final Dungeon and the big brother presence of the Jiuzhou Guild still existed, meaning the public narrative among major forces remained one of unity and friendship.

But the actual situation was largely the same.

More and more players stopped entering new instances, choosing instead to use points to specify entry into old instances, content to drift along until death.

More voices on the forums called for “coexistence with the Eerie Game,” getting used to the frequency of entering a instance every seven days and treating it as a part of life.

The shared ideal was precarious, struggling in the mire had become the norm, and the rotten rat right in front of them was worth fighting over and dividing among the owls.

“If the information provided by the Puppeteer is true, it will soon be an era of great contention, a time to employ talent.

“Established guilds will need several forces with loose ties to scout ahead, preventing them from drawing fire; new guilds, meanwhile, can use this as a stepping stone to knock open a sliver of a gap in the tightly sealed gate.

“The Puppeteer probably hopes for a force that can act as a buffer between Sera and Jiuzhou, gathering intelligence on various decisions, and even secretly negotiating when appropriate.

“If the Unnamed Guild can gain a foothold in the Eerie Game, it could naturally assume the role of an intermediary, betting on both sides and profiting from the war?”

Qi Si shook his head to himself.

Some matters are far more troublesome to execute in reality than they are in planning.

The various forces, including Sera, are not fools to be manipulated, and a guild with only two people is ultimately weak.

The safest method would be to use completely new, fake identities to stir up trouble in the guild scene, so that even if things went wrong, they could change their appearance and withdraw at any time.

—The risk would be almost zero, eliminating all possibility of loss, but they would also be unable to seize greater returns.

Qi Si disliked that approach.

Within controllable limits, he wasn’t afraid of risk or gambling; he even seemed to delight in chaos, happy to participate in various crises.

By filling in the name “Si Qi” in the Vice President column, he intentionally left an opening for those in the know to intervene. He believed it wouldn’t be long before the Eerie Investigation Bureau found him in reality.

With the Chips he currently held, it was time to take a seat at the negotiating table and discuss a few transactions with those people.

“However, is a dead rat worth scheming so hard to snatch? That is the question.”

Qi Si told himself a joke, walked straight through the crowd, and headed toward the black tower behind the World Tree.

Passing the rookie rank, he noticed that his ranking had been cleared, silently, as if it had never existed.

The instance clear record list also showed no updated records related to Frog Hospital.

After becoming a Ghost, he was like someone shut out by the entire world; all matters belonging to the human domain would no longer concern him.

No one noticed whose record had silently vanished. On the list dominated by large stacks of asterisks, no one could prove the reality or falsehood of any specific person.

Many people, either finding it amusing or following the trend, treated all the asterisks as representing a single person, making fun of them during casual conversation.

Qi Si stopped ten meters away from the black tower and gazed at it from afar.

The six doors on every floor of the tower were tightly shut, offering no opportunity to open them, welded into a seamless whole.

An artificial fence encircled the base of the tower. Warning signs indicated that several players had gone missing nearby, suspected of being swallowed by the black tower—it was unclear if this was alarmist talk or genuine fact.

The Ruins of the Sunset was becoming less populated; those who came to watch the excitement arrived quickly and left just as fast.

Qi Si stood on a protruding golden gnarled root. With a thought, he returned to the dilapidated temple.

He gripped the Sea-God Scepter, reached out to touch the Soul Leaf symbolizing White Crow, and recited two phrases:

“It once gathered the faint remnants of the old god’s scattered authority, reflecting the images of the gods traversing time and space, guiding the lost lambs.”

“After the ‘Door’ opens, the ‘Tower’ will not be far behind. Since you hold a ‘Card’ in hand, why not compete for the final crown of the Ruins of the Sunset?”

…Gulan Autonomous Region.

Foul water from the sewers flowed through the dark corners; garbage and the corpses of premature infants piled up, turning bluish-black. Scrawny, ragged rats scurried through the narrow streets, looking like tattered beggars stripping clothes from a corpse.

As one of the twelve Autonomous Regions designated since the establishment of the GFA (Global Future Alliance), serving as a buffer zone between resistance forces and Federation territories, localized wars and subsequent poverty had long taken root here, resulting in countless unnatural deaths every moment.

White Crow, dressed in a white trench coat, held a bronze longsword carved with vine patterns in her arms, walking straight through the filthy streets without looking sideways.

She was here to negotiate with a small force called “Scarlet Truth.”

In the late 1980s, when The Federation was first established, various laws and new regulations were enacted sequentially, the global landscape was volatile, old forces fought back desperately, and various resistance organizations sprung up like mushrooms after rain.

Some united with grand ideals, others allied for mutual benefit, or used religion as a banner; some presented mature political platforms and demands, while others aimlessly created terrorist incidents or engaged in petty theft and skirmishes like street thugs.

“Scarlet Truth” was one such organization, initially founded by a group of middle-class citizens as a political body to counter the depreciation of assets since The Federation’s establishment. Later, it inexplicably absorbed various elements from all walks of life and embarked on a path of terrorism.

Naturally, most organizations with strict platforms and rational decision-making capabilities were suppressed by The Federation with swift, decisive action in the early 21st century, a prerequisite for stabilizing the situation.

The remaining loose alliances dissatisfied with certain Federation policies also compromised after several rounds of consultation and reform by The Federation, either dissolving themselves or existing as foundations.

Most resistance organizations still fighting today have terrorist leanings, and are either ambitious, reckless lunatics, or clueless fools just trying to get by.

For the former, such as the Balance Church, The Federation still maintains a high level of vigilance, and a significant part of the Security Bureau’s work involves engaging in battles of wits and strength with their followers.

For the latter, The Federation aggressively suppressed them for a few years, then designated twelve Autonomous Regions in the poorest and most backward areas, forcing all unruly mobs and criminals there to fend for themselves, adopting an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ approach.

After “Scarlet Truth” took root in the Gulan Autonomous Region, it caused trouble intermittently for decades but finally couldn’t sustain itself due to lack of funds, shifting ideologies, and other reasons.

Although they served little substantial purpose, they could at least cause some headaches for The Federation and even share some of the blame when public opinion turned sour. Letting them simply cease operations was unacceptable.

Therefore, White Crow made a trip, activating the armed forces of the Balance Church lurking in the Gulan area, and peacefully inherited the remnants of “Scarlet Truth” using some rather impolite methods.

Officially, of course, “Scarlet Truth” remains “Scarlet Truth,” but it will now dedicate itself with even greater zeal to the great cause of causing discomfort for The Federation.

The bronze longsword White Crow held in her arms was an unexpected gain from this trip.

She found it in the office of a minor “Scarlet Truth” leader. It was said to ward off disaster and suppress evil, yet its surface inexplicably seeped blood.

The moment she saw it, she felt a strong sense of tremor, intuitively knowing the sword had ties to the Eerie Game, so she took it with her.

As for the exact nature of the connection, she might find out once she had time to enter a instance.

White Crow maintained her unchanging smile as she stepped onto a military truck, surrounded by the armed escort of the Balance Church.

The hem of her coat, which should have been pristine white, was stained gray by the wind-blown dust and the gunpowder smoke filling the air. As she sat down, a few flakes of ash settled on the seat cushion, like gauze or frost.

“…It once gathered the faint remnants of the old god’s scattered authority, reflecting the images of the gods traversing time and space, guiding the lost lambs.”

“After the ‘Door’ opens, the ‘Tower’ will not be far behind. Since you hold a ‘Card’ in hand, why not compete for the final crown of the Ruins of the Sunset?”

A distant, ethereal whisper suddenly sounded behind her ear, as if drifting from the far reaches of the sky.

A phantom of golden vines appeared from the horizon, gradually spreading across her entire field of vision, starting from the corners.

The long-silent deity had once again delivered an oracle, though its specific meaning was currently difficult to ascertain.

White Crow’s breathing hitched for a moment; she couldn’t tell if it was excitement or nervousness.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and let her consciousness sink into the Game Space, which resembled a church confessional.

Beneath the high-hanging cross, she sat upright, and a card with black background and white markings materialized between her fingers.

On the card face, a figure in white faced a crowd, arms spread open, seemingly rallying them.

A white dove rested on His arm, but upon flying away, it began to be stained black from the tail and wingtips, transforming into a black crow high in the sky.

【Identity Card: Utopian Orator】

【Effect: When upright, your dreams will become reality; when reversed, your ideals will completely collapse. (A draw can be performed after sacrificing sufficient offerings)】

Twenty-two years had passed. White Crow had grown from the naive little girl she once was into the spiritual leader of the sect, and naturally, she would not stake the future on a missing evil god like an ordinary fanatic.

Believers needed an evil god, but since they had never seen the god’s appearance, they could perfectly choose a more suitable evil god and mold it into their object of faith, piece by piece.

Therefore, even though she knew that Identity Cards were closely linked to the gods, corresponding to their authority and even faith, White Crow still bound herself to the 【Utopian Orator】 card, which belonged to an Alien God.

She sensed Si Qi’s weakness, and with a blasphemous idea, she probed the boundaries of divine power, fully prepared to be discovered.

“Is He reprimanding me, telling me that He has further recovered and that my every action is under His gaze?

“He noticed the believer’s disloyalty but didn’t immediately execute me. Is this because He is too weak right after waking up, or because He doesn’t care about the minor details?

“In any case, He is recovering too quickly. Although I haven’t activated the Identity Card’s effect due to insufficient offerings, I also cannot change my path midway… It seems I must accelerate the plan.”

The Identity Card at White Crow’s fingertips dissolved into specks of light and scattered into dust. Her expression remained calm and peaceful, and the smile on her lips neither grew nor faded, as if carved onto her face.

She leaned backward into the darkness of the Game Space, returning to reality. To bystanders, she had merely blinked. She then surveyed the believers around her and solemnly declared: “Just now, the God delivered an oracle.

“He said that under the guidance of the Old God, we shall reclaim the crown lost in the ruins through holy war.”