Jared Miles arrived at the competition venue, led by the local manager for Syland City.
"Mr. Miles, let’s enter this way. This venue has a total of 3,500 computers. Tomorrow’s competition will be divided into three sessions: morning, afternoon, and evening." The manager swiped his access card to open the glass door, inviting Jared Miles and his group into the computer room.
The manager walked to a computer and showed Jared Miles its functions.
"Every computer here has an automatic live-streaming function. For the first match, we’ll be using holographic imaging technology to broadcast the entire competition. The audience can freely switch perspectives to watch any character or scene in the ga. When characters are in combat, the audience will be able to see their various attack stats..."
"Will you be recording any of the contestants’ faces?" Jared Miles suddenly asked.
The manager paused for a mont. "Yes, we will. There are automated caras in this room." He pointed to the side of the wall, where over a dozen black caras were mounted.
Jared Miles stared at the wall, his expression unreadable. The manager broke out in a cold sweat, thinking sothing was wrong with the caras, and quickly added, "We won’t be recording everyone, of course. It’s mainly for the newcors that the teams have specifically requested we focus on..."
"Which areas are the cara’s blind spots?"
The manager quickly had soone check in the central control room and ended up drawing out several areas for Jared Miles.
Jared Miles glanced at the map and said directly to the manager, "Have the newcor from the DAF Team sit in these spots."
The manager’s heart skipped a beat. ’Could soone from DAF have offended Mr. Miles?’
So after Jared Miles left, he went straight to the head of the tech departnt and said, "I need you to adjust the ga data imdiately. Make it so that when the DAF Team’s newcor triggers any random quests, the difficulty coefficient is set to the absolute maximum!"
But the head of the tech departnt just shook his head. "Boss, we really can’t do that! The system’s difficulty values are hard-coded. We can’t adjust the difficulty coefficient for a specific person."
"I don’t care. You have to create the toughest possible challenge specifically for the DAF Team’s newcor, and do it as soon as possible."
The tech head’s headache was so bad he wanted to punch soone.
’One word from the boss, and we run our legs off!’
’How the hell am I supposed to do that?!’
Just then, a junior technician from the testing team ran over and said to the departnt head, "Sir, if all else fails, why don’t we just log into an account ourselves and guide the new contestant into triggering the missions with the highest difficulty?"
The tech head thought for a mont, then slapped his thigh. "That’s the plan! And change the GM title to ’guide’!"
***
「anwhile」
Glenn Lockwood led the group in a dash toward a crawfish restaurant.
It was the height of sumr, and the air in Syland City was hot and muggy. The weather was as fickle as a child’s mood, changing in an instant.
The group had just left the complex when a dark cloud drifted overhead. A few flashes of lightning lit up the sky, followed by the rumbling of thunder. It was clear a thunderstorm was about to break.
Minutes before the first raindrops hit the ground, the group rushed into the crawfish restaurant.
The restaurant had two floors and an impressive storefront. The owner, a Syland City local, was very friendly to Glenn Lockwood and smilingly ushered them up to a private room on the second floor.
They had barely sat down when Zeke Quincy stood up, looking at his phone with a delighted surprise. "Aurora, Mason Sutton and the others are here! They’re at the complex entrance right now..."
"Mr. Mason?"
"Yeah! I thought their flight wasn’t until tonight! They got here fast. I’ll tell them to co over so we can all hang out..."
No one had any objections.
So, Zeke Quincy sent Mason Sutton and the others their location.
Unexpectedly, twenty minutes later, Mason Sutton arrived with a grand procession of more than a dozen people.
"Guild Leader, surprised?"
Zeke Quincy spat out the water in his mouth. "COUGH COUGH COUGH... You... why did all of you co...?"
"The Goddess is in a competition, so we have to co and show our support! Besides, they didn’t get to et her at the last get-together..."
"Guild Leader, we’re here to worship Lord Rory! Which one of you beautiful ladies is Lord Rory?" A baby-faced boy was the first to run forward, excitedly sizing up Aurora Sinclair and Jean Quincy, completely ignoring Leigh Miles who was standing beside them.
Zeke Quincy pointed helplessly at Aurora Sinclair. "She’s Master Rory!"
The boy’s eyes went wide. He hurried over, extended his right hand, and said excitedly, "Lord Rory, I’m Barron! I’m your and Mr. Whitlock’s number one fan..."
Aurora Sinclair nodded, extended her own right hand, and shook his lightly. "Hello."
What followed was like a guild family reunion. The dozen or so people lined up to shake Aurora Sinclair’s hand and introduce themselves, every one of them with the thrilled expression of soone eting their idol.
Since their party size had drastically exceeded the limit, they had to leave the private room and find a spot in the main dining hall on the first floor.
Luckily, because of the rain, the restaurant wasn’t busy. The waiters pushed so tables together to form one long one, then began bringing out platters of crawfish.
Just then, Mr. Newman suddenly ran up to Zeke Quincy and whispered, "Guild Leader, Lorraine registered for the competition too. She just ssaged saying she was shopping nearby, but now it’s raining and she doesn’t have an umbrella. So..."
Zeke Quincy glanced at the rain outside and said impassively, "Go give her an umbrella, then."
Mr. Newman looked like he wanted to say more. He had assud Zeke Quincy would invite her to join their gathering, but that clearly wasn’t the case.
He grabbed two umbrellas and headed outside, texting Lorraine as he walked.
[Mr. Newman: Lorraine, I’m bringing you an umbrella now.]
[Lorraine: OK]
About ten minutes later, Mr. Newman returned, soaked from the waist up.
On his back was a delicate-looking girl.
The girl was very pretty, with light makeup on her face and a touch of pitiable fragility in her eyes.
"Quick, give a hand! Lorraine fell."
One of the girls imdiately went over to help Mr. Newman support Lorraine Morrison.
Her clothes were almost completely soaked. Her white crop top was so wet the color of her bra was nearly visible, and her denim shorts were a shade darker from the rain. Her slender calves were splattered with mud, and her right knee was bruised and scraped.
"Excuse , do you have any large towels?"
The owner was very kind. He quickly had a waiter bring towels and hot water, and even turned on the heater in the air conditioner.
After a good while, Lorraine Morrison finally recovered a bit.
Mr. Newman, holding so first-aid supplies he’d bought from a nearby pharmacy, was about to treat Lorraine Morrison’s wound, but she was afraid of the pain and refused to let him. Tears welled up in her eyes, making the hearts of the boys around her soften.
Jean Quincy clicked her tongue, pouted, and muttered under her breath, "So dramatic..."
Just then, Glenn Lockwood suddenly placed a bowl of peeled crawfish at in front of Jean Quincy. "Jean, hurry and eat..."
"You..."
"Eat up. Once they co back, you won’t be able to get the big ones."
Jean Quincy froze for a second. She glanced at the group of boys huddled around Lorraine Morrison, then looked around their table. The only males left at the table were him and Titus Miles.
"Aren’t you going over there?" Jean Quincy asked blankly.
"Nope. She’s not my girlfriend! Why would I fawn over her?"
Jean Quincy suddenly felt her face grow warm. She glanced at Glenn Lockwood’s greasy fingers and said awkwardly, "Did you wash your hands?"
"Absolutely! I just washed them several tis with soap. You can sll them if you don’t believe , they’re still fragrant!" Glenn Lockwood glanced over at Aurora Sinclair on the other side before cautiously extending his hands.
"Alright, alright, I get it! Go sit back down..." Jean Quincy turned her head away, awkwardly shooing him back.
Glenn Lockwood pressed two fingers together and gave a goofy salute. "As you command, Queen Jean—"
’His brother always said, as long as a man is shaless enough, he’ll never have trouble finding a girlfriend.’
Flustered and annoyed, Jean Quincy picked up a crawfish shell and threw it at him.
Zeke Quincy happened to see this exchange. His expression changed, and he imdiately left Lorraine’s side, striding toward the table. "What’s going on? Is he bothering you again?"
Jean Quincy glanced at Glenn Lockwood’s pleading gesture, burst out laughing, and then shook her head. "No..."
Zeke Quincy flicked Jean Quincy on the forehead and shot Glenn Lockwood a glare.
On the other side, Lorraine Morrison hadn’t seen Jean Quincy’s face. Seeing how dotingly Zeke Quincy acted toward her, a flicker of sothing passed through Lorraine’s eyes, and her cries of pain grew louder than before.
Zeke Quincy looked back, his brow furrowed slightly as he asked Leigh Miles, "Do you have any fast-acting dicine to make the pain go away?"
Leigh Miles, busy peeling a crawfish, glanced over and said nonchalantly, "It’s fine. Once the dicine is on, she’ll feel better in a bit."
"But she won’t let us put the dicine on, and we can’t force her..."
"Don’t worry, leave it to —"
Holding her crawfish, Leigh Miles stood up and slowly ambled over to Lorraine Morrison. She looked at the wound and sighed dramatically. "Big sister, if you don’t treat that leg soon, you might have to get it amputated, you know!"
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