Yesterday, the sight of just one child, Yu Le, revealed little.
But today, with over a dozen children gathered in one place, the differences became striking.
Though they all dressed as boys, a closer look revealed that some, including Yu Le, had delicate, distinctly feminine features that subtly betrayed their gender.
It made sense. In the complex world of this game, safety zones ensured player security under the rules.
But beyond these zones, in more perilous instances, such protections vanished.
Children without parental guardians were especially vulnerable, utterly defenseless against ill-intentioned players.
Zuo Chengan had observed families of four or five thriving within the safety zones, functioning much like those in the real world.
The only difference was the currency—credits instead of money—and the occasional necessity for parents to venture into dungeons together.
For these families, life was strikingly normal.
However, dungeons were no playgrounds. Even in well-explored areas, misjudgments or recklessness often led to death.
When parents perished, the children left behind faced a grim future.
If the child was over 10 years old, they inherited their parents' items and points and were forced to fend for themselves.
Children younger than 10 were taken under the game's care, raised in a centralized welfare system until they turned 10, at which point they were sent to live in the safety zone on their own.
Undeniably, children with parents were fortunate.
They could laze at home under their parents' protection until they were 13 or 14, their bodies sturdier and better prepared to face instances.
Parental guidance gave them a significant advantage in survival rates and adaptability over orphans.
Once players reached the 1st Heavenly Ascension, even grinding Level 1 instances for a meager basic income was enough to stave off starvation.
Level 1 instances featured enemies with attributes ranging from 1 to 15.
Players exceeding 15 in all attributes could typically clear these safely.
Surpassing 15 and reaching an average of 20? At that point, one could confidently choose an instance with their eyes closed.
For those uninterested in growing stronger, life in the safety zone was akin to a routine job. One could set up a barbecue stall, a pancake stand, or a ring-toss game, scraping together enough credits to get by.
Weekly dungeon runs became a predictable chore, choosing comfortable dungeons that provided food and lodging, essentially coasting through life while collecting the game's minimum welfare payout of two credits.
If the stability of the safety zone could last forever, living here long-term didn't seem so bad.
But the looming threat of the Great Purge hung like a sword over every player's head.
…
The marketplace was vast, sprawling to accommodate the countless players who browsed and set up stalls.
Yet the lack of official planning led to chaotic layouts.
One stall might sell weapons, the next food, and the one after that clothing—only for the pattern to repeat unpredictably.
Determining the integrity of stall owners was equally tricky.
Temporary vendors, driven by a "one big score" mentality, often sold subpar goods at exorbitant prices, scamming unsuspecting buyers.
A knowledgeable guide was invaluable in navigating this maze.
When Zuo Chengan saw Yu Le, the task naturally fell to her.
However, Yu Le hesitated when he mentioned exploring the market. She glanced at a group of children huddled in a corner and called over an older-looking boy.
"You see, Big Brother, I've only been in the safety zone for a few days. I understand the main areas, but I'm still clueless about the market. Let him guide you—he knows most of the vendors here."
The boy Yu Le picked appeared around 13 or 14. Clad in a vest and shorts, his dark skin gleamed under the sun, and a jagged scar ran along his exposed arm.
This breezy attire was common in the safety zone, where the temperature remained comfortably stable.
The boy introduced as the eldest among their group was called Tian Wenliang.
At 13, he'd already completed four instances, earning the respect of his peers and securing a shaded corner of the park for their group to sleep.
"Hello," Tian Wenliang greeted stiffly.
Zuo Chengan appreciated Yu Le's suggestion and added her as a friend before heading off with Tian Wenliang.
Future tasks would undoubtedly require her help again.
…
If Yu Le was a chatterbox, endlessly rambling without prompting, Tian Wenliang was the exact opposite—a silent shadow.
Only when directly questioned would he respond, otherwise trailing behind with such a faint presence that he was nearly invisible.
Could this be a skill of his? Zuo Chengan mused.
It was unlikely. Gaining skills after only four instance runs seemed rarer than acquiring them from a beginner's pack.
Natural talent versus sheer luck.
As adults often do with children, Zuo Chengan eventually steered the conversation toward achievements.
"What level are you now?"
"Unranked," Tian Wenliang muttered after a pause.
Unranked after four dungeon runs?
Sensing Zuo Chengan's confusion, Tian Wenliang elaborated. "Most people think kids are burdens, so they rarely team up with us. We usually form teams among ourselves. I'm waiting for the others in my group to raise their stats before tackling the Tower of Ascension."
…
As their conversation unfolded, Tian Wenliang gradually opened up. Noticing Zuo Chengan's curiosity about the welfare system, he began recounting the life of his upbringing.
The welfare institution in the game resembled a boarding school.
During the day, children attended classes, learning literacy, arithmetic, and the basic combat skills necessary for survival.
At night, they returned to their dormitories to rest.
In many ways, these children, trained in combat from a young age, had an advantage over players who had lived mundane lives before entering the game.
The gap lay in their physical growth and life experience.
Because their bodies were still developing, their base stats lagged behind adults.
To compensate, they needed to invest more Attribute Points.
Older children often advised their younger peers to avoid dungeons until they had matured physically, even if it meant surviving through odd jobs or begging.
Tian Wenliang had taken this advice to heart.
For two years after leaving the welfare institution, he earned a living guiding players and taking odd jobs for major guilds, avoiding dungeons entirely. Only this year did he begin experimenting with simpler ones alongside friends.
The topic soon shifted back to the market.
"Though the market lacks formal organization, some unofficial rules have developed over the years," Tian Wenliang explained.
"For example, the closer a stall is to the center, the better the items. Outer stalls usually offer lower-quality goods."
He pointed at the nearby stalls. "We're still on the outskirts. Most of the items here are white or green grade. White items priced under 200 credits are fair, and green ones under 500 are reasonable. Anything higher? It's probably a scam."
As he spoke, Tian Wenliang glanced enviously at the goods displayed on the stalls.