Chapter 105 The Deal is Made
The mermaid chuckled dryly twice: "Don't tease me, you must be joking, buddy. If you really want to see my boss, I might be able to put in a word for you, but be careful what you say, or you'll get struck by lightning."
As soon as he finished speaking, the young man in front of him took out an ancient seal from his bracelet and placed it on the front desk.
The seal's surface emitted a faint blue glow. This item is unique in the entire instance, and no item workshop would dare to counterfeit it.
The mermaid's brain went blank for a moment.
? ? ?
Is it really the main god of the dungeon?
On the way to the room where Boss Fang was, the mermaid's mind was filled with strange and wonderful thoughts.
He never imagined that he would actually see the Supreme God, a being that only existed in legends, in his lifetime.
It is said that the main god only appeared in person to maintain the instance for a period of time more than 500 years ago when the instance had a major malfunction and needed repair. After that, it never appeared again. For so many years, it has been an unlucky mascot that has been constantly criticized for being stingy in player forums and boss forums.
Their safe house is really something, managing to get the dungeon's main deity to personally come and deliver the key.
"Boss." The mermaid took a deep breath and knocked on the door: "The dungeon master has come to deliver the key and said he wants to talk to you."
Five minutes later, Fang Zhuo took a whole box of keys and personally made a hot Americano for the dungeon's main god.
The young man's gaze fell on the steaming coffee, and he hesitated for a long time before picking it up and taking a sip.
Fang Zhuo took this opportunity to sized up the newcomer.
This person has a lot of muscle mass, but his posture is quite upright, and he doesn't have the domineering air of someone who has been in a high position for a long time. Instead, he looks like a soldier who follows orders.
Having a general idea in mind, Fang Zhuo took the initiative to ask, "What do you want to talk to me about?"
The young man put down his coffee cup and spoke in a gentle tone, trying to negotiate:
"Mr. Fang, I saw from the dungeon management system that you have purchased a new batch of C-level dungeon keys. I would like to ask if you could consider temporarily not expanding the safe house business to higher-level, more difficult dungeons."
"If there are safe houses in high-level dungeons, it will greatly affect the dungeon balance, and the dungeon world may become disordered."
“I know that all your business operations are compliant, and I have no authority to interfere with your normal business activities and the use of props. I just want to have a friendly discussion with you.”
Fang Zhuo had no intention of opening the safe house in a high-level instance, so he didn't respond immediately, but instead quietly looked at the other person.
The young man, unable to contain himself, explained, "You can think of this instance world as a high-level prison. I serve in the federal army that built this world. Everyone calls me the God, but I'm just an administrator."
"The ghost money and federal currency are interchangeable in the dungeon, but my direct superior has only given me very limited funds to maintain the basic operation here."
At this point, the young man spoke with a hint of embarrassment: "As long as you don't continue to expand your business, I can consider transferring the dungeon world business to you at a suitable price, or you can become my direct superior. Our Federation army welcomes entrepreneurs with your capabilities."
Fang Zhuo finally understood.
The "God" not only wanted to sell the whole world, but also wanted to recruit him into the federal army, so that he could contribute money and effort to the revival of the Federation, just like Mark.
No wonder the official team behind the dungeon is so stingy; it turns out they have a limited budget.
Many dungeons are designed to involve players in work, with jobs ranging from textile factories to electronics factories. Essentially, it's like a large-scale workshop for rehabilitating prisoners.
Since the other side was willing to let him acquire the entire instance world, it seems they have considerable confidence in his account balance.
Unfortunately, Fang Zhuo didn't want to take on a mess and had little interest in acquiring non-performing assets.
He shook his head: "No need. I can choose not to open a safe house in a high-level instance, but there are two conditions."
"First, I want a dedicated instance, the bigger the better, and preferably something special."
"Secondly, could you please help me find someone named Huo Xiaoyuan? He should be around twenty-three years old, a recent college graduate, and in jail for seriously injuring his boss and setting the factory on fire."
The young man opposite hesitated for a moment: "The first point is fine, but the second point... I don't know how you know Huo Xiaoyuan. I'll just be blunt, don't be angry."
"My superiors asked me to create a new medieval town instance, specifically to gather all the players with superior objective conditions and extremely high aggression."
"There are still over a thousand bosses transferred from elsewhere in the town to help with the charade. Those players probably think they've been transported to the Middle Ages..."
Fang Zhuo smiled slightly.
What a brilliant idea! I never expected that the manager would handle unstable factors in such a simple way.
It's clear that this manager doesn't have much authority.
Before the young man left, he stopped him and asked, "You just said that the currency here is the same as the currency in your main world. Can I ask you how much your monthly salary is?"
The man hesitated and said, "Uh, fifty-two thousand yuan. If the monthly budget for the dungeon doesn't exceed the limit, there will be a few thousand yuan in bonuses."
Fang Zhuo nodded: "Here's 400,000 yuan. Come to the safe house tomorrow and work as a receptionist for a day. Remember to put the seal on the reception desk."
But the young man's first reaction was not to refuse outright, but rather his cheeks flushed slightly: "Mr. Fang, it wouldn't be good if my boss found out."
Fang Zhuo understood.
This is because there isn't enough money.
He counted out a hundred stacks of ghost money from his bracelet, emptied the key from the box, and put the ghost money inside.
The young man swallowed hard, slowly lifted the box into his hands, and smiled shyly, "Just for one day."
The next day, when Rong Yuan arrived at the front desk for work as usual, he saw a familiar figure.
He rubbed his eyes, closed the door and opened it again, then walked in upside down, only to find that the person was still occupying the workstation he usually slacked off at work, sitting upright in front of the computer, looking at the safe house electronic management system with a serious expression.
This world is crazy; mice are bridesmaids for cats, and the supreme god works at a safe house.
It's good that everyone's a little crazy.
He had assumed that the God of War was here to experience life anonymously, but he never expected that the seal that could intimidate everyone would be so blatantly placed on the front desk, its light almost blinding.
The number of people booking rooms at the safe house that day caused the electronic system to lag, and all the rooms were fully booked, with the card room closest to the front desk being completely overcrowded.
Rong Yuan spent half the day opening the forum and, sure enough, saw a post with tens of thousands of replies floating at the top—
[The dungeon master is now working as a receptionist in the safe house? Why doesn't he just tidy up the dungeon and sell it to Brother Fang?]
[1L: How do you know he didn't sell it? Maybe he just couldn't get it to sell.^^]
[2L: Brother Fang: Don't try that kind of forced buying and selling tactic.]
[3L: Is the content in the main post true?? Did they actually hire a one-day shop manager for the God of War?]
[4L: Surprisingly, no one asked how much ghost money is needed to invite the main god this time.]
[5L: There's no point in discussing this. Just know that our Brother Fang has plenty of money~~]
[6L: This is the first time I've felt that the safe house tickets are cheap. It's a pity I'm not in the instance right now, otherwise I would definitely find a chance to go there.]
[7L: Thanks, Brother Fang. Last time you treated us to the lavish special effects that cost 50,000 per session. This time you've brought the main god over to show us what real visuals are like. We support Brother Fang becoming the new god of the dungeon world!]
[8L: Congratulations on the coronation of the Little Emperor of the Dungeon World]
The emperor was currently driving the starship given to him by the system's blind box, forcibly using items to create a rift in mid-air in the medieval dungeon.
The "Black Emperor" clone obtained from the blind box is not as scary as other dungeon bosses. It retains its human form completely, except that it is surrounded by almost solidified black smoke.
These dense fogs can change shape and stretch at will, allowing Fang Zhuo to make coffee using the black fog while sitting on the sofa.
The medieval town depicted below cannot be described as flawless; rather, it is riddled with flaws.
Fang Zhuo suspected that the dungeon administrator had never come to check on the medieval dungeon after it was set up. The mini-bosses here seemed to have been paid too little, walking listlessly along the fixed route on the main road.
In the short fifteen minutes he observed, an old man with a cane had already gone back and forth to the same street corner for the third time to buy a baguette.
Huo Xiaoyuan was packing baguettes with a blank expression. Ever since he transmigrated to this world, he had been on the verge of a mental breakdown every day.
This town is very small; it only takes about half an hour to walk through the entire town.
The residents are mostly the same old faces. Sometimes dozens of residents will disappear inexplicably, but they usually return within about a month.
Although the architectural style resembles 19th-century London, the houses in the distance look like they're made of paper, as if they've simply been covered with textures of the building's exterior.
He suspected that an extremely poor creator had created this place.
The town was even more dilapidated than the amusement park in his hometown, a fifth-tier city on Earth. Even the training camps his company went to for team building were built with more care than this place.
As for the residents, their attitude was even more perfunctory, as if they were too lazy to even put on an act since they hadn't received their wages.
He could practically recite his daily customers by heart. First, a lady in a floral dress came in and asked for two donuts, then a tailor shop worker... and finally, this old man with a cane.
But he couldn't resist, and the Creator thoughtfully provided him with a "mother." Whenever he began to doubt the reality of this place, his mother would open her blood-red maw at night.
There was a topic circulating online before—if your life were a game where someone was manipulating you, what would you want to say to the player who was manipulating you?
Huo Xiaoyuan didn't want to speak to the players; he just wanted to shout at the game planners: if you don't have money, don't make games.
Look at the terrible textures and unfinished NPCs here. Don't the developers feel any remorse?
Just as he finally saw the old man with the cane off and turned to close the shop, he suddenly saw a spaceship several hundred meters long hovering in mid-air.
The spaceship was pure white, but it had all the necessary hardware. Through the portholes, you could see the exquisite interior decoration, which clearly indicated that it was very expensive.
On that day, everyone on the street couldn't help but turn their attention to the spaceship.
Huo Xiaoyuan was thrilled.
After living in the town for several years, is the player controlling him finally ready to spend money?
The spaceship's door opened, and a cloud of black mist rushed out from the exit, forming a long staircase. A tall, slender man stood atop the staircase, beckoning him with his index finger:
"Come up."
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