In Exile Town's Town Hall, Hal was seated in a high-back chair, one arm propped up and supporting his cheek. His head was slightly tilted down as he stared fixedly at his shadow.
Through the faint shadow, he could see two overlapping but distinctly clear scenes.
Just like last night, the undead in the scene were locked in combat with his inner demons.
But, somewhat different from the night before, these undead fought with more order, unlike the chaotic brawl of the previous night.
The undead with shields knew how to restrict "Jim's" movements, while those with swords, daggers, and machetes focused on striking "Jim's" lower limbs. Even the ones with crude wooden staves used rudimentary dark magic to slow down "Jim's" movements.
How Yang managed to teach these fragile undead combat skills and even basic dark magic didn't bother Hal. He, Tuttle, and Finley had long concluded that these dubious Taranthan undead were no ordinary undead. Rather, it was likely that these were certain great demons summoned by Yang from some unknown dimension, for there was no way to explain how these undead possessed intelligence close to or even surpassing ordinary people.
What puzzled Hal was that these undead of mysterious origins were still enthusiastically going about this futile task when they ought to know that these monsters in the distorted mental domain were merely the twisted projections of his mind, and killing them had no meaning.
If they had the dedication and reason to absolutely eliminate those monsters in the altered mental domain, then wouldn't it make more sense to attack him in person instead of struggling with these projections?
It couldn't be that these undead were so dedicated to coming in and out of his altered mental domain just to humiliate him, right?
At this thought, Hal suddenly felt that this might be the truth.
But recalling how miserably these undead perished in his altered mental domain made him reckon it didn't quite add up.
These death-defying undead that didn't fear death would still try to avoid it. Whenever Hal swung a blade at them, they would always make a full effort to flee.
Forget it… It was no use trying to understand these things.
Hal shut his eyes and took a little break. After a while, he opened his bloodshot eyes and gazed wearily at the overlapping shadows.
He had already become numb to it.
In any case, the most embarrassing side of him had already been seen by so many undead, not to mention that fella Yang… Just like someone put on the spot and made to do something embarrassing, there might be all sorts of initial resistance and shame, but once it was gotten used to, it would no longer be a big deal.
Hal even had the mood to comment on the undead's assault strategy. When an undead with a shield tried to obstruct "Jim" with its body, Hal couldn't help but quip, "How foolish are you, idiot! What can that little body accomplish?!"
Before Hal finished his roast, that charging undead was crushed by "Jim's" heavy triple body and disappeared in a flash of white light.
"Maintaining distance is key—not done?!"
Yet another shield undead charged forward to pick up the fallen items of its comrade, only to be slapped into nothingness by "Uncle Harlington."
Hal clicked his tongue.
With two shield-wielding undead down, the remaining undead quickly realized they couldn't continue resisting head-on. They quickly dispersed and took advantage of the slowing effects of dark magic to maneuver around and encircle "Jim."
Hal couldn't help but shake his head.
The undead persisted in attacking "Jim," though their strategy was utterly foolish.
This distorted monster born from the dark depths of Hal's mind had "Jim" as the core, with "Uncle Harlington" and "Olive" as extensions.
When two sides clashed, would anyone aim for the toughest spot? Of course, it should be breaking through the weakest point first. If the undead truly wanted to defeat this projected monster, they ought to prioritize attacking "Olive" and "Uncle Harlington."
Around three to four minutes later, this undead team was routed and wiped. The overlapping scene of this instance vanished.
The undead in the other overlapping scene, after persistently attacking "Jim" for over ten minutes, seemed to finally realize the flaw in their strategy and turned their focus onto "Olive."
Unfortunately, they had altered their strategy a little too late. The undead with crude wooden staves were exhausted and could no longer cast dark magic to slow "Jim's" movements. Eventually, this team was wiped as well.
These undead had stubbornly persisted with their seemingly futile attacks until the very last moment before turning into a flash of white light. Hal felt inexplicable complex sentiments witnessing this unfold.
He truly couldn't understand why these undead engaged in such meaningless actions—even if they succeeded in killing the monster, as long as Void Realm was active and his "true self" remained, the monster could resurrect endlessly.
"…How foolish," Hal muttered to himself. "Indeed a bunch of brainless fellows."
Slightly over an hour later, as Hal was feeling drowsy, these undead returned once more.
Yet another hour later, they reappeared in Hal's altered mental domain again.
This marked the fourth time Hal had seen these two undead teams in the overlapping projections. Tuttle and Rex had both fallen asleep, leaving him as the only one awake in the building.
It was just these two teams of undead that kept coming and no others.
Hal could hear their bickering, arguments, discussions, and mutual encouragement. He even remembered the names of some of these undead.
Some of these peculiar "names" seemed somewhat familiar to Hal as if he had heard them a couple of times before. However, he hadn't cared much about these undead before and wholeheartedly wished to get rid of them and Yang as soon as possible, so he hadn't paid them much heed.
Hal's perception of these undead had always been one-sided and shallow—they were mad, chaotic, and irrational.
But now, Hal seemed to suddenly realize that these undead also experienced joy and sorrow.
They weren't all uniform in their skeletal appearance. Each of them had their own unique personality.
Some undead were timid and weak with a tendency to retreat, while others were optimistic, proactive, and enjoyed brute force. There were also undead that were calm, composed, intelligent, and grounded.
Each of these undead, with their own distinctive personality, collaborated wholeheartedly under the command of the wooden staff-wielding skeletons in battling the inner demons in Hal's mind. Not a single one questioned whether their actions had any meaning, nor were there any that tried to desert.
Thoughts swirled in Hal's mind as he stared fixedly at them.
Yes, they were just doing something futile. Defeating the distorted mental projections within Void Realm was inherently meaningless.
But… to win. Wasn't that meaningful in itself?
In a person's life, how many sacrifices were truly meaningful?
Hadn't Hal himself done many meaningless things?
Desiring victory and making sacrifices to fuel that desire… Wasn't that a form of meaning in itself?
Hal, exhausted to his limits, felt his mind subtly relaxed as a sense of release coursed throughout his entire body.
Hal was stunned.
It seemed like a long-standing heavy burden clutching his heart had been lifted, and he felt lighter all over.
Hal slowly sat up straight, unable to conceal his astonishment as he looked at his own body.
The exhaustion from two consecutive nights of poor rest was rapidly dissipating. He could feel strength swiftly return to his body.
Not only did he feel physically light and agile, but mentally, he also experienced an unprecedented clarity.
It was like waking up naturally after a restful sleep, full of vitality and energy, ready to take on anything.
The room wasn't particularly bright as the wall-mounted lamp wasn't strong enough to illuminate the entire room, leaving the farther corners shrouded in darkness and hard to discern.
Yet, at this moment, Hal felt as if his vision had suddenly sharpened. Even the spiders hiding in the shadows of the wardrobe were visible to him with crystal clarity.
Hal was taken aback and realized something had happened when he returned to his senses.
His spiritual sense… had increased!
His mental strength was also improved!
Only high-level spellcasters with formidable mental prowess could achieve true enhancement of the body, gaining transcendent physical abilities. Spellcasters that hadn't achieved such an advanced level, or professionals like Hal, could only briefly experience physical benefits when their spiritual sense and mental strength increased.
While feeling inexplicable joy, Hal also felt a subtle ache in his heart.
So that's it… It had always been like this.
It turned out that Hal had always known what the problem with himself was.
It wasn't that he was inherently inferior to others in certain aspects. The hardships he endured had long been enough to compensate for any gaps in talent. He shouldn't have struggled to even find the "threshold," nor should a youngster like Rex, more than ten years his junior, surpass him…
Everything was all because—Hal himself gave up.
Being the smartass that he was, he split all things into the categories of whether they were valuable or worthless.
Anything unattainable when he gave his all, or anything that, even if successful, offered no visible benefits, he deemed worthless.
He concealed his incompetent, weak, and cowardly side entirely beneath the facade of a "smartass" by not doing anything "stupid."
He could actually have saved Jim—back then, when Jim was trying to get the others to walk the right path and work as laborers, the dissatisfaction of the senior gang members was clear, and it was obvious that it would bring danger to Jim. If the other youths could see the underlying signs, how could Hal have been oblivious to it?!
He had let Uncle Harlington down, but there was a way to remedy the situation back then—all he had to do was turn around, take responsibility for his aunt and little cousin, and spend the next decade or two atoning for his youthful arrogance.
But he didn't do that.
He used his lofty ideals, his desire to stand out, and the notion that he couldn't be burdened by women and children as excuses to deceive himself. Truth be told, he simply didn't dare to face too heavy a burden.
Olive… was the same.
He could have pulled her back, even if not from a lover's perspective.
Hal stared blankly at his overlapping shadows, but he wasn't looking at those undead. What was repeatedly flashing across his mind was no longer the painful and unbearable past but… his own ugliness.
It wasn't that he was forced to become a scoundrel or a villain; he wasn't that pitiable. No one had forced him. It was him who thought it was easier to be a scum.
"This must be… facing one's true self, huh?"
Hal relaxed his tense body, once again rested his elbow on the armrest, and supported his chin with his palm.
His body felt perfectly fine, with an unprecedented lightness.
Just that, there was an ache in his heart. A pain so intense that he couldn't express the emotion of suffering in any form.
What Yang said hadn't been wrong; Hal, who couldn't even face himself, had no right to call himself… strong.
The monster battles within the recurring scenes of the overlapping shadows went on. After several rounds of repeated defeats, their attack rhythm became more coordinated… Finally, the remains of "Olive" were eliminated.
The undead were excited. They cheered each other loudly, and the attacks intensified.
Hal's gaze fell on the remains of "Olive" slowly disintegrating in the scene.
"I'm sorry… I actually have no right to admire you.
"And even less right… to keep you in my heart."
When Rex woke up with a yawn, it was already dawn.
"Were there no undead seeking me out again last night…" Rex gazed out the window with mixed feelings. He had mentally prepared himself, but being kept in suspense like this felt frustrating.
When he withdrew his gaze from the window, Rex saw… Hal's face.
Suddenly, Rex felt that something wasn't right.
Hal wasn't an easy person to get along with. He was aggressive, and whenever he gave someone a good look, it was as if his eyes were assessing their value.
But now, as Rex gazed into Hal's eyes from across the room, he actually felt that this fellow seemed to have become more human…
"Done looking?" Hal uttered.
"My apologies." Rex quickly averted his gaze. He was probably still half-asleep. How could this bandit leader have become more human anyway.
"Let's grab a bite, then head back." Hal rose from his chair.
On their way from the Town Hall to Life Lane, the trio encountered undead once more, moving in pairs or small groups toward the Crossroads.
The attitude of these undead… was entirely different from the previous morning's. They seemed to be in remarkably good spirits, and even their round skulls seemed to shine as they waved toward the trio cheerfully.
"Good morning, Hal-san!"
"What's up with these fellas?" Tuttle asked in puzzlement.
"They defeated the projections of my mind," Hal replied listlessly.
"Is that something to be happy about?" Tuttle frowned. Defeating the mind projections didn't mean permanently eradicating them. As long as Yang sustained Void Realm, those troublesome entities could revive countless times in their altered mental domains.
"Who knows," Hal said indifferently. "As long as they are happy."
Now, not just Rex but even Tuttle regarded Hal with a strange expression.
Not right. Something is definitely very wrong! Given Hal's personality, shouldn't he be mocking the futile endeavors of this bunch of foolish undead?!
Who are you! You aren't Hal!
———
Weisshem's sewers, which had been clogged for many years, proved to be more challenging to clear than anyone had imagined. The over 20 able-bodied detainees Rex had selected yesterday toiled tirelessly for an entire day and weren't able to finish clearing the sewer of a small alley. This prompted a need to recruit more hands for the task today.
However, managing a larger group posed its challenges. The security team was short-staffed, and the security officers had to take turns on duty at guard posts. If they weren't vigilant, these incarcerated individuals, having tasted the fresh air outside, might escape or cause trouble in someone's home.
While Rex was figuring out how many people would be enough to manage the labor force, Hal quietly approached him from the side.
"You can just use some undead as supervisors," Hal said indifferently. "They might not want to clean the disgusting sewer, but they shouldn't have any issues just supervising."
Rex: "??"
It wasn't just Rex who was taken aback. Even Ji Tang, who had been about the same idea, was astounded.
It wasn't that they didn't think Hal was incapable of coming up with such a suggestion, but… Hal was actually sparing a thought and coming up with a suggestion for the benefit of others?!
Hal paid no heed to them. After giving his suggestion, he turned around and left before loudly chastising the detainees who weren't queuing properly and trying to snatch other's food.
Rex and Ji Tang: "…"
"Doesn't Hal seem a little strange these two days?" Ji Tang ventured. "He wasn't like this before."
"I feel the same way," said Rex, looking puzzled.
Since he saw that Rex couldn't fathom it either, Ji Tang shifted the conversation toward the supervisor quest…
These indigenous advanced NPCs had roughly grasped some tendencies of the players. But when it came to understanding players, Ji Tang, as a Chinese person, had more say.
Rex wanted to assign this supervisor quest to the casual players, but Ji Tang immediately vetoed the idea, suggesting instead to give it to the blood alliance players.
Soon, the two prominent player leaders, Brother Lahong and Vanilla Pudding, received the targeted quest and happily led their reorganized monster farming teams to come over.
Those detainees locked in the former militia headquarters weren't kind common folk, having not straightened up much despite the harassment of Hal and his former rogues. Ji Tang wasn't certain if those generally idle casual players could handle them.
All that was needed to make the blood alliance teams perform this unexciting quest that didn't touch upon killing monsters was ample rewards—50 territory prestige for an hour of supervision and 100 territory prestige for subduing an attempted escapee would be enough to ensure the blood alliance teams guarantee the smooth execution of this supervising quest!
Ji Tang had also seen the news of the Inner Demon instance being cleared on the forum before he logged in. The two teams that Unceasing Entropy formed had successfully slain the monsters inside Hal's Inner Demon instance, successfully completing the challenge.
The system prompt to players on the "entire server" indicated clearly the rewards for completing the dungeon: all players participating in defeating the dungeon boss would receive an opportunity to enchant their existing equipment.
These enchantment chances could be saved and used when better equipment was acquired. It could also be accumulated, so a player could save multiple enchantment chances for later use.
For example, if Give Me Medicine of the elite dungeon team wanted to use the enhancement chance now, he could bring his dagger to Old Yang and add effects like armor penetration, bleed, poison, or chance to interrupt casting to his dagger that already had crit effects.
In other games, enchanting top-tier equipment usually required real money, and there was also the probability of failure and breaking the gear. This game, however, didn't require real money, and the enchantment success rate was also 100%. If Ji Tang was truly a player, he might have gone and organized a team to run dungeons…
Clearing the instance provided equipment enhancement chances, though top-tier equipment needed to be exchanged at the Undead Merchant Association using territory prestige. (Monsters not dropping equipment was already something players had criticized countless times.) Now that materials that could be exchanged for territory had risen in price, quests that directly rewarded territory prestige were especially popular!
As they watched the undead gleefully herd a group of detainees out to do hard labor, Rex hesitated for a moment, then asked Ji Tang, "I'm somewhat curious… Why are you all only interested in Hal's altered mental domain?"
Ji Tang, who was about to leave, nearly tripped up.
Even though he wasn't a pure player, it was still somewhat difficult to have a response when an NPC straight-up asked him why they hadn't gone and challenged his dungeon…
"Um, I haven't participated in the instance clears myself, but from what I've heard from others, it seems like Hal's Inner Demon domain is relatively easier… At least the monsters can be seen inside," a clearly discomfited Ji Tang answered.
Rex was silent for a bit, then, unable to resist his curiosity, asked, "What does my… inner demon look like?"
Ji Tang: "…"
So, even the natives being used as "source material" didn't know what their inner demons looked like?!
Wait a minute! Isn't Lord Yang forcing these natives to act as "source material"?!
Speaking of which, Blossoming Strokes didn't successfully coerce Hal into submission, using his inner demon monsters!
The plotline of the Inner "Demon Domain" is forcibly disclosing the shameful secrets to outsiders… You definitely aren't a good person, Yang!
Ji Tang had a strong desire to cuss but, in the end, changed his words. "Heh heh… I haven't entered before, so I don't know. Shall I go and ask around for you?"
———
Caroline headed out of her house early in the morning, hurriedly making her way to the northern end of Martin Street and entering the narrow alley between the street and the north residential block.
This alley only had a few households, and vacant houses were an important playground for the town's children. When Caroline was in her teens, she used to frequent this place, choosing a relatively clean room to create a secret base for her group of friends.
In the run-down old house that had served as a secret base for countless children, the three young men who had returned to Weisshem with Caroline yesterday were already waiting.
"Sorry, I'm late." Caroline took off her headscarf and apologized. "My mother and I talked a lot last night, and I overslept."
"It's fine; we just arrived as well." A young man with dark eye circles waved his hand somewhat excitedly. "How did everyone's night go?"
"I don't know what to say." Another tall young man laughed bitterly. "Weisshem looks almost the same as before, but it feels extremely unfamiliar."
"I feel the same way," the final lad said, somewhat bemused. "A few years ago, my family spent quite a sum to send me to attain an apprenticeship in Indahl, and now my mother says she hopes I can come back."
"Your mother said that?" the youth with dark eye circles interjected gleefully as if he had found a kindred spirit. "My grandmother also said I don't have to go to Indahl anymore, especially after my uncle returned last night. He worked odd jobs on the main street all day long and actually brought back 30 copper coins!"
"Hey, calm down a bit. Do you guys remember why we agreed to meet today?" the tall young man cut in hastily. "Don't tell me you guys have also been beguiled."
"You can earn money as long as you work. How is that being beguiled?" the youth with dark eye circles retorted immediately. "Allen, you and I have been working in the factory for so long, and we only get eight silver coins per month.
"We have to pay one silver to the union, and even if we don't use gas in the dormitory and live frugally, we still spend two or three silver coins on living expenses every month. We can hardly save any money, and clearly, it isn't as good as staying in town and doing odd jobs now."
"How long can odd jobs last? Can we keep doing it indefinitely?" Allen, the tall young man, retorted. "Yes, I admit that the new lord, Mr. Rex, seems to be a very nice person and treats the people in the town well. But who can be sure how long Mr. Rex will serve as lord? He became the new lord with the backing of a black mage. If someone has their eye on Weisshem, this would be the perfect excuse to launch a territorial war against Mr. Rex. Haven't you seen how frequently the dirty dealings between nobles are reported in the newspapers?"
"Do we have control over such matters? Why bother with things that may happen who knows how long later?" the youth with the dark eye circles said impatiently. "There's a chance to make money now, so let's make money. It would be foolish to miss out."
The shortest lad, worried that an argument might break out, quickly placated, "Allen, Simon, stop arguing. Also, let's listen to Caroline's thoughts."
Allen stared at Simon for a moment before they turned to look at Caroline.
"I…" Caroline hesitated, then gritted her teeth and said, "I wish to stay."