DSMC Chapter 36.2

Watching it, Yan Jiyun felt deeply moved. To live like this wasn’t bad at all. For people long trapped in darkness, such quiet days — without bloodshed, without schemes — were what they most yearned for. And that cat paw print logo was rather cute.

Though the ending was short, the journey had been arduous. But Yan Jiyun felt no regrets. Three days of running, and he had earned a Happy Ending. That was enough.

Relaxing at last, exhaustion swept through him. He didn’t even want to stretch his paws.

Yan Jiyun: “Can I go straight back to my personal space to rest?”

“You must pass through the Central Zone from the instance’s temporary rest area before returning to your personal space.”

Yan Jiyun had no choice but to force himself to rally. He now had 150,000 points, so he had no need to pinch every second on Human Form Time Cards like last time. He spent 10,000 points to redeem a 10 minute version. He needed to get out and gather intel first.

After leaving the instance, guild members were still trying to recruit him, but he was in a hurry and took none of their cards.

Passing through the noisy rookie instance district, he headed straight toward the ranking board zone. Compared to last time, he could now clearly distinguish Central Zone’s direction.

No sooner had he come out than he ran into his temporary teammates Zhou Ying and the others. But they showed no intent of greeting him. Yan Jiyun understood. Everyone had their secrets. Meeting once in an instance didn’t mean binding together forever. He wouldn’t approach them first; the more he spoke, the more mistakes he risked.

The ranking board zone was crowded with people, eyes glued to the displays.

“A hotshot just appeared on the Newcomer Rankings! After only two instances, they’ve shot up to first place!”

Yan Jiyun followed the direction of the speaker’s finger and then spotted his own name on the newcomer board.

[Player: Yan Jiyun | Rank: 1 | Points: 66,200]

“He’s only entered two instances! How did he manage that?”

“He cleared two new endings.”

“Not just new endings. See that? His name is on the Ashes Leaderboards too.”

“Oh my God, it’s that Yan Jiyun again! A few days ago, I thought his NPC favorability gains were just coincidence, but he’s really farming it. Is he some bigshot’s smurf account?”

“Isn’t Midnight Diner (Challenging) supposed to be one of the three hardest instances for beginners? And he still managed to grind NPC favorability? That’s quite something!”

“You should keep reading. It’s not his first time. He’s got perfect NPC favorability in both instances.”

Yan Jiyun hadn’t come here last time. Startled, he followed their gaze to see another board, a ranking of NPC favorability.

[Player: Yan Jiyun | instance: Midnight Diner (Challenging Mode) | NPC: Lin Xie | Favorability: 100/100]

[Player: Yan Jiyun | instance: Midnight Diner (Challenging Mode) | NPC: Jiang Yan | Favorability: 100/100]

[Player: Yan Jiyun | instance: Going Home after School (Challenging Mode) | NPC: Li Muyang | Favorability: 100/100]

Below that were other players’ favorability scores, the highest not even reaching half, just 49.

“Has Midnight Diner’s difficulty dropped or something? He actually maxed two NPCs at once.”

“What does 100% favorability even mean?”

“Are you new? A full hundred means you can literally marry the NPC. If you propose, they’ll agree to marry you on the spot.”

“Yan Jiyun’s a girl, right? Lin Xie and Jiang Yan both sound like male NPC names.”

“Is this person a super irresistible heartthrob? Otherwise, why would two NPCs in a row fall head over heels for her?”

Yan Jiyun thought to himself, ‘how exactly did I get full 100% favorability again?’

Experience summary: there are no shortcuts. And it’s not just about looks, he even has to bathe in front of them.

Meanwhile, others were checking the unlocked endings leaderboard.

“This Yan Jiyun is seriously incredible. She got two new endings unlocked.”

“I’ve seen beginner branches of top guilds grind twenty times and still not pull a single new ending.”

“She’s a real talent. Has she joined a guild yet?”

“No clue. Nobody even knows what she looks like. How are we supposed to recruit her?”

“I just heard from a player who went through the same instance. Sometimes even fellow players in the same run don’t know what she looks like. This newcomer is really mysterious.”

For a while, the entire newcomer rankings area was buzzing about Yan Jiyun. Some were jealous, some envious, all guessing who “she” really was.

Yan Jiyun, however, grew bored and turned to look at other boards instead.

Too much praise makes people swell with pride and arrogance. He knew very well he was weak in front of the game. Every clearance was just him stumbling on the knife’s edge between life and death. Arrogance was the last emotion one could afford in a place this dangerous.

As expected of the rankings area, there were countless boards, subdivided into newcomer ranks, beginner/intermediate/hard-difficulty boards, and more. The harder the board, the more untouchable it looked.

Within the newcomer boards alone were Newcomer Points, Overall Points, Clearance Records, instance Count, Fastest Points Gained, Fastest Rank Climbs, and dozens more. Too many to remember, and updated every moment. But one thing was clear: every player who ranked had clawed their way up with sheer strength. Unlike real-world streaming platforms with “Looks,” “Pets,” or “Food” sections where people paid for rank-boosting, here it was a pure life-or-death struggle.

Still, the most eye-catching was the Overall Points leaderboard. This one ignored instance tiers, so any player could appear. The top ten scores were so astronomical they could hardly be counted.

Yan Jiyun stared at the numbers trailing behind those names, practically drooling. With that many points, why worry about not turning back into a human? Though, of course, points could only be spent inside instances.

How many instances did a player have to clear to rack up so many points?

He figured he wasn’t the only newcomer wondering this. Right now, to get more information, he’d need to either join a guild or spend points to buy it.

Guilds weren’t an official feature, they were player-made organizations.

Not far off, Yan Jiyun spotted Zhou Ying and the other two. Having survived an instance together, they counted as comrades-in-arms. When they saw Yan Jiyun in the rankings area, they were shocked. Last they’d seen him, Lin Xie had just pulled him up at the very end.

They had waited in their respective temporary rest zones until the instance time ended before exiting, curious what he’d done afterward, how he cleared the instance, and how he maxed Lin Xie and Jiang Yan’s favorability.

When Yan Jiyun noticed them watching, he openly gave a little wave. The three hesitated about going over to add him as a friend.

Zhou Ying: “He looks really strong… should we add him?”

Wen Nanxing: “Of course. Why not? With a face like that, if he went into showbiz, I’d be out of a job.”

Cheng Li nodded eagerly. “Mhm, mhm, mhm! He even waved at us just now. That means he recognizes us!”

Wen Nanxing: “…” Sure enough, girls only ever look at faces.

But by the time they’d decided, Yan Jiyun’s figure had already vanished into the crowd.

At that moment, Yan Jiyun had wandered into the commercial district. Gazing at all the enticing food stalls, his mouth watered uncontrollably. He wanted it all, but remembering how he’d gotten food poisoning last time, he wiped his lips and gave up.

Behind him, he overheard voices.

“Newbies these days really have it rough… can’t even afford a grilled fish.”

“What can they do? Easy instances give too few points, and with waves of newcomers flooding in, competition is fierce. Not earning points is normal.”

Yan Jiyun glanced at his own points: …

It’s not that he couldn’t afford food, he just couldn’t eat it!

Watching the timer on his Human Form Time Card tick down, Yan Jiyun yawned. He decided to return to his personal space and rest, thinking he’d worry about the game again once he was well-slept. This time, he chose not to return to reality. His pooper scooper looked after him well, but he didn’t want to be yanked back into another instance out of nowhere.

In an unremarkable corner, Yan Jiyun returned to his personal space. A player vanishing like that wasn’t strange. Many disappeared on the spot, either logging off or returning to their space.

Back inside, still in human form, he quickly spoke a few words before the time ran out: “Can I get a sub-account nameplate? Not being able to come back after returning is really inconvenient.”

The youth replied, “You are using a sub-account. The system cannot provide a sub-account nameplate. Each main account has only one fixed nameplate.”

Yan Jiyun: “Why? Can’t I buy one with points?”

Youth: “There are no nameplates for purchase, but you can buy a one-time game–reality travel nameplate in the marketplace. One million points per use.”

Yan Jiyun: This is daylight robbery!

He barely earned 130,000 from one challenging instance run. A million meant ten such clears, and for a one-time consumable? Proof enough that nothing came free, and that this system would stop at nothing to push players into farming points.

He’d thought he made a fortune this time, but in front of the marketplace, he couldn’t afford a thing. All he could do was exchange for another Human Form Time Card to comfort himself.

Not returning to reality wasn’t so bad. Just meant no more of his pooper scooper homemade cat meals.

But the game didn’t have food he could eat either. Maybe after a nap he’d check outside.

Yan Jiyun: “Does the marketplace sell cat food?”

The youth paused for a second. “I just searched for you. None.”

Yan Jiyun: “But you hand out all kinds of items in instances. Why doesn’t the marketplace sell food?”

Youth: “The marketplace does not currently provide human or pet food. Items are only for instance use.”

Yan Jiyun: To hell with “pet food.” He just couldn’t eat human food.

He almost tied himself into knots. Talking to the system was enough to make him fume.

No wonder Central Zone had a commercial street. Probably because the system didn’t provide food, so players opened shops to profit. Not a bad idea, honestly. He could spend points on someone making him cat meals. Steamed fish, boiled chicken breast, boiled shrimp… there had to be something. After all, players in the game worked every sort of profession.

Looking at the huge bed, Yan Jiyun gave up on thinking. More practical to just rest. He hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days.

He asked the youth, “Is the personal space absolutely safe? Nobody’s going to disturb me mid-sleep, right?”

Youth: “No. You can rest easy. Unless you sleep until it’s nearly time to enter an instance, but then, we’ll remind you. Or you can set an alarm.”

Yan Jiyun figured there was no way he’d sleep three to five days straight. His hunger would wake him first.

Dropping all thought, he burrowed into the soft bedding. Just then, his Human Form Time Card expired, and curled up small, he fell into a deep sleep.

Yan Jiyun slept soundly. When he woke again, twelve hours had passed, and he was starving.

But his first reaction wasn’t to find food, it was to notice the notification the system had popped up for him.

[Your Master has logged in.]

Yan Jiyun blinked groggily. Master? What the hell was that supposed to mean???

T/L:

Qi Feng, probably: I’m finally here!!!!!