As a renowned genius within the Managent Bureau, Sword Star’s position and authority in the bureau far surpass those of Zhao Yan and Cotton.
Even Zhao Yan and Cotton are aware of the inside story of Peaceful Town, so how could Sword Star not know?
But even though he knew that the odds of passing this level with this group of newcors were slim, he had to brace himself and push through.
Taking advantage of the ti before the instance officially started, Sword Star shared information about Peaceful Town with everyone.
His voice was loud, not avoiding the three mbers of the Iron Armor Corps in the distance, or Wu Chang’s True Self and the lancholy literary boy on the other side.
"The pollution level in Peaceful Town is very high, everyone must be extrely cautious in their actions. Once the death toll becos too high, it can easily push the instance to the brink of losing control."
"Even for your own sake, avoid internal conflict at all costs. Trust , if this instance goes out of control, even I might not have the chance to leave alive."
This remark was obviously directed at the three mbers of the Iron Armor Corps.
The three mbers of the Iron Armor Corps fell silent, deep in thought, but did not respond.
Sword Star continued, "Peaceful Town places great emphasis on rules. Every player entering the instance will be assigned a profession. Check your clothes, and you should find a label or na tag with your profession written on it."
Upon hearing this, everyone imdiately began checking their clothes, finding the tags as expected.
Wu Chang found a brass na tag on his chest, with "Mailman" written on it.
"During your survival ti in the town, you must complete the most basic tasks of your profession. If you fail to do so for three consecutive days, you’ll face life-threatening dangers."
"Believe , do not think your strength is enough to resist the rules."
Wu Chang clicked his tongue, remarking that Peaceful Town should be renad Blood and Sweat Factory instead.
Failing to et KPIs for three days results in imdiate physical termination—those capitalists aren’t even this ruthless.
As he watched the transparent barrier maintaining the safe zone start to falter, Sword Star sped up his speech.
"I also don’t have much more information. To clear Peaceful Town, everyone must work together. Based on our individual situations, let’s plan to exchange information here once a day or every two days."
"If anyone gathers clues about the missing Count or a way to enter Count’s Manor, contact imdiately. My profession is Editor, you can find at the newspaper office."
Just as Sword Star finished speaking, the transparent barrier around them shattered, and the instance officially began.
The instance had already assigned residences and work areas to the players. After exchanging so professional information, everyone dispersed on the spot.
Upon entering the instance, in addition to their identity na tags, each player also received a map, marked with the different areas of the town.
Wu Chang first made his True Self leave the others behind, recalled it, and then, following the map, headed towards the post office he was assigned to.
On the way to the post office, he also observed the town.
The town was located on a gigantic island—the island was the town, and the town was the island.
The island and town shared the sa na: Briff.
The tiline of the instance’s plane was around a modified first industrial revolution.
Huge steamships had appeared in the world, as well as post offices and newspaper offices, but electric lights weren’t yet invented.
The ergence of steamships shortened the distances between worlds and intensified global trade.
The boom in mariti trade reanimated many remote islands, establishing clean and beautiful towns.
Briff was one of them.
The town area on the island wasn’t large, and Wu Chang easily found the post office.
Though a post office, it was only the size of three or four newsstands. The whole building was bright red, looking like a giant fire hydrant, standing out even at night.
The post office door was unlocked; he pushed it open and went right in.
The post office was divided into two areas: the outer area was the workspace for the mailman, and the inner area was a resting room with a bed.
On the entrance wall was a job announcent stating that due to the previous mailman’s suicide in the town, a new mailman would soon arrive after job redistribution.
The announcent had Wu Chang’s photo, but the na section was blurred by water, seemingly to allow him to use an alias.
After thinking for a bit, he wrote down "Sean" beside the announcent.
That was the na he used at Moonlight Sanatorium, and he was used to it.
It had to be said, the town’s post office manager really liked red. The post office’s exterior was red, and even inside, red was everywhere.
But the more he looked at this red, the stranger it seed until he reached the workstation and found irregular dark red stains on the chair and desk.
He took a letter opener from the desk, scraped off a layer of red powder, crushed it, and sniffed it under his nose; it slled of blood.
The walls of the room were covered in blood.
The previous mailman’s blood, most likely.
Such a large-scale blood spray, yet the announcent at the door said suicide.
He could imagine the deceased in the announcent trying to spray blood all over with their last breath while slashing their own throat.
Having been shot six tis in the back before supposedly committing suicide had the sa strange irony.
In a scene akin to a B-level gore movie cri scene, if one were ordinary, they wouldn’t last a mont.
But Wu Chang had been through two instances, seen over a hundred patients with rotted hallucinations, and had seen thousands of mountain bandits neatly arranged like frozen at.
Compared to that, a room full of blood wouldn’t affect his mood anymore.
He fetched a bucket of water, wiped down the chair and desk, and then lit an oil lamp to read the newspapers stored in the post office.
There were local news stories from Briff Island and external ntions of the island.
The news had already been sorted and annotated, saving him a lot of work.
The top story was an award announcent.
"Under Count Jermaine’s leadership, Briff Town has had no security incidents for five consecutive years. The King has acknowledged Count Jermaine’s performance, awarding him the Ogre Silver Port dal."
Wu Chang glanced at the blood-covered walls—no security incidents here for five years?
Just as he was about to continue reading, a sudden flash of inspiration made him sense a gaze fixed on him.
He looked up and saw a giant face pressed against the glass window in front of him.
The person on the other side of the glass was staring at him and was about to knock on the glass with their fist.
Sensing Wu Chang’s discovery, the person lowered their hand and directly pushed the door open, walking in.
"Are you the new mailman?"
Wu Chang asked in confusion, "And you are?"
The visitor was a middle-aged man around forty, over two ters tall, with short golden curls, a round face, a short neck, and thick limbs, as stout as a bear.
Glancing at the walls, he said, "Nice to et you, Mr. Sean, I’m Matty, the town’s general store owner."
Wu Chang looked at the pitch-black night and asked, "Mr. Matty, is there sothing you need?"
Matty grinned, revealing uneven teeth with yellow stains, and said with a smile:
"As a local, it’s my duty to inform you that our Briff Island respects rules very much. Everyone should complete their tasks in a tily manner and play their roles well."
"We’re like gears, pushing the island forward together. If one gear stops moving, it affects all the others."
"I hope you have enough professional ethics to face your duties seriously and not be like your predecessor—so arrogant, lazy, foolish! Pathetic! And selfish!"
Matty grew more agitated as he spoke, nearly shouting by the end.
After the outburst, Matty cald down and smiled gently.
"In any case, I hope you work diligently and deliver every piece of mail well, thank you."
Wu Chang stared intently at Matty but did not respond.
Although Matty’s threats were highly emotional and sincere, as a warning, they were far less convincing than the lingering resentnt attached to him.
After all, the owner of that grudge was the previous mailman, whose blood covered the entire room.
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