When morning came and Adyr arrived at the Player Headquarters, he found himself caught in another brief chat with the receptionists. The women at the front desk seemed to carry the weight of all the building’s gossip, always the first to know everything, like professional, sneaky reporters in disguise.
The addicted woman he had pulled back from the edge not long ago was especially good at this. She operated like the head of a secret network, as if she had built her own web of informants. From janitors to technicians, from the tea lady to the security staff—she had access to all of them.
And that worked in Adyr’s favor. For a while now, they had bee his eyes and ears throughout the building, quietly carrying news back to him.
Yesterday, they had been the ones to casually reveal the name of the new division: Player Task Force (PTF). And today, he could already tell they were whispering about something new. Another rumor.
When he asked, they couldn’t help slipping into talk about the latest gossip. According to them, the government was finally preparing to officially announce the formation of the new division to the public.
Of course, the receptionists had no idea what exactly would be revealed or that it involved another world. All they knew was that the building housed third-generation mutants and that the recently released game was somehow acting as a simulation for training them. But even having that much information made them surprisingly good at what they did.
He also learned that a few reporters had already started circling the building, and according to the receptionists, the City Manager himself had paid a visit the night before. To them, it was a clear sign that a major press conference was on the horizon.
Adyr mentally filed everything away with a quiet grin, then turned and stepped into the elevator.
These bits of information might have seemed small or useless on the surface, but when viewed as part of the bigger picture, they painted a clear warning of the chaos to e. And as he entered his room, he was already thinking about how to use that chaos to his advantage.
The first thing that greeted Adyr in his room was a stack of boxes piled neatly in the corner.
He changed out of his clothes, slipping into a clean tracksuit and his usual Crocs, then walked over and began unpacking the boxes, starting with the shield.
It closely resembled his previous one—a black, heater-type shield designed with magnetic grips so it could latch onto the back of his tactical jacket. The only real differences were its matte finish and the upgraded material. According to the specs he had read, it was supposed to be five times more durable than the last one. That was reassuring, especially considering he had spent 50 merits on it.
Next, he checked the rest of his gear: wire, grenades, and throwing knives, all purchased for another 20 merits. Once he confirmed everything was in place, he powered on his puter and started browsing the forum.
Today, there was new information on the forum that caught Adyr’s attention. One post in particular stood out—its title hinted at evolution and some of the abilities that came with it, without going into too much detail. Just enough to spark curiosity and encourage other players to purchase the full information.
The post hadn’t been made by a specific player, but by one of the forum’s moderators. It was clear that the details Adyr had shared were now being packaged and sold as purchasable knowledge for players. Just another layer of the system designed to push them, encouraging them to earn more merit and spend it within the structure.
At first glance, it looked like they were profiting off Adyr’s insights, but that wasn’t really the case. For one, the state had no use for merit. Merit was a virtual currency, created exclusively for players, with no value or function outside the system.
More importantly, the entire structure was designed to support players. Every system, every rule, every restriction was there to push them toward growth. Even the information gathered from players was recycled back into the munity for their own benefit. That’s why Adyr didn’t see it as malicious.
The only downside was that, had he shared the information himself and sold it directly to players, he probably would’ve earned more merit. But that option wasn’t available, and for good reason.
Players were allowed to create general discussion threads on the forum, but selling knowledge directly was strictly prohibited. The only legal method was to submit the information to the relevant department, sell it to them first, and then let them distribute it to others. This rule existed to prevent hoarding and inequality.
Players came from vastly different backgrounds. Some were wealthy and powerful, with access to high-end resources. Others, like Adyr, came from nothing—no connections, no money, no influence.
If the elite players were allowed to monopolize information and trade it freely among themselves, those like Adyr would be left behind, crushed under the weight of imbalance. The system was designed to prevent exactly that.
"I wonder how they’re dealing with the black market," Adyr thought.
Even with the system’s restrictions in place, it was impossible to pletely stop players from trading information under the table. It wasn’t hard to imagine some of them blackmailing others or forcing them to give up what they knew.
As he considered this, a soft beep came from his door. The digital screen above it flickered on, showing the person waiting outside.
Adyr smiled when he saw who it was.
"Speak of the black market and it shall appear," he muttered, then walked over and opened the door.
Standing before him was a tall, intimidating young man, just over two meters, built like a wall, with a stoic face and dark green eyes fixed on him.
"Eren, why don’t you e inside?" Adyr said with a slight smile, inviting his guest in.
He had checked the merit rankings not long ago and noticed Eren had dropped off the list. It wasn’t hard to predict he’d show up soon, so his arrival came as no surprise.
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