Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios

ChangeableCapacitorOfCivilianManaTerminal: Can I auction myself?

SoulSpirits: Underground Forest! We can cut trees for wood!

ScholarWoo: This game is not user-friendly for hand-disabled gamers. We don’t want to shoot arrows at our comrades. Hopefully, the game will have assistive features for shooting arrows.

SouthernBreezeGoingNorth: Lousy game producers, you have forgotten about it? Because you were busy playing computer games?

MoonObserver No.2: I have a Dungeon Core. We have Magic Cannons and most of the components. Why don’t we make a Gundam?

Hemp Rope Technology: According to the freedom accorded in the game, we should be able to make a Gundam!

Peasant: I want to be the Beta Pilot!

The gamers were supportive of the updated content, but Sherlock had doubts. What was a Gundam?

…

Beast sat in his office and browsed through the official documents.

Because of the sudden invasion of the Ancient Gods army, Beast’s workload had been increasing. A male Orc in office lady clothing walked in.

“Senior, take a rest. You have been working for an hour! It’s tiring. Since I started working, I haven’t seen you work for more than thirty minutes before,” the Orc said in a hoarse voice with concern.

“No, I’m not tired. I can still work for another ten minutes! Please leave me. Everyone in Winterfell is working hard. As a supervisor, how can I slack off?” Beast replied loudly. Then he said in a firm voice, “Get out! Don’t disturb me!”

The concerned Orc glanced at Beast as he walked out helplessly.

Beast put his focus on his work. He sipped his red tea and fell asleep on the table.

His office door was opened once again.

The male Orc in office lady clothing walked in silently. A dark shadow engulfed Beast.

The Orc extended his rough palm towards Beast…

He covered Beast with a blanket.

He put the documents back in the drawers.

He arranged the stationery neatly.

He adjusted the Devil’s alarm clock to 27 hours.

Then he left the room and closed the door quietly.

Cheers were heard coming from the employees outside.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go to the House of Books to relax!”

“Shh, lower your voice. Keep this matter quiet!”

“Sorry, sorry, let’s go.”

The voices of the employees receded into the distance. Beast was sleeping on the table. He muttered softly in his sleep.

…

At the Blacksmith Shop in Eternal Kingdom.

“Pom!”

Simba hammered the armor in front of him into a distorted shape. The Houndhead Man in front of Simba was scared stiff.

Every time equipment was sent for reforging, they knew it was 100% successful, but the way Simba hammered the equipment instilled fear in the gamers.

It wasn’t practical for his apprentices to reforge the equipment. There was only a single furnace, and their skills weren’t up to par.

A huge Trident was placed by the Blacksmith Shop. The gray Mana shroud had vanished. It was now an ordinary Trident.

Sherlock had wanted Simba to reforge the Trident into profitable equipment, but it wasn’t possible until the large furnace was built. The current small furnace was unable to accommodate the large Trident.

As Simba was hammering the armor, he saw Mufasa walking over with a bento.

Simba hammered the armor to fit the size of a Houndhead Man. Then he threw the armor to the Houndhead Man and said, “I’m knocking off for the afternoon.”

The gathered apprentices and the queue of gamers dispersed. Nobody dared to make a single complaint.

Mufasa walked into the Blacksmith Shop and placed the bento on the table as he said, “That’s good, they are obedient in cousin’s shop.”

“You’re too lenient with them, so they bully you.” Simba took out a steel stick and warmed it up in the furnace. Then he looked at the bento, which was full of mixed clay.

“There aren’t any dishes today.”

“It can’t be helped. The small Black Dragon has a voracious appetite. A creature is coming over to my workshop to get some food for the Dragon. The Dragon is very picky and isn’t willing to eat clay.”

Mufasa sighed. Simba put the steel stick into his mouth and puffed out smoke. Then he ate a mouth of clay and said, “It can’t be helped. I wonder when we’ll be able to eat Black Dragon meat.”

“What? Lord Sherlock doesn’t intend to eat his small Black Dragon…” Mufasa looked surprised at Simba and said, “I heard rumors.”

“I don’t think so. According to Lord Sherlock’s vicious character, he’ll make the Black Dragon his reserve rations,” Simba said seriously.

Mufasa was taken aback. He felt the topic was inappropriate and quickly said, “Oh, I heard some Gnomes talking in my workshop. It seems they’re going to Underground Forest No. 3.”

“What? Underground Forest No. 3?” Simba was stunned. Then he said gravely, “By the wrath of Satan.”

“What? What is it?” Mufasa looked at Simba and was curious.

“I bet you haven’t been to the forest.” Simba smoked his steel pipe and said, “It’s a terrifying place…”

“Koo loo…”

Mufasa swallowed hard and took out black melon worms from his pocket. Then he smashed them and shared some with Simba.

Simba recalled with sadness as he said, “When I was young, I hadn’t learned Blacksmithing skills. I was a hardworking lumberjack. It was a serene underground forest… if you didn’t cut down those trees…”

…

In the Winterfell Dungeon Lord’s office.

“Dungeon Lord, why are we tasking Eternal Kingdom with protecting Underground Forest No. 3? Though the Ancient Gods army has arrived near the forest, with Eternal Kingdom’s behavior, they’ll cut down the trees secretly!” a young Gnome employee said with concern to Dungeon Lord Onionhead.

“Lad, have you been to the forest, seen it, or heard about it?” Onionhead, whose eyes were filled with wisdom, asked the Gnome employee.

“No… I haven’t been there before.” The employee looked at Onionhead’s gaze and felt that things weren’t as simple as he thought.

Onionhead inhaled deeply and said, “It’s not easy to cut down the trees in an Underground Forest. We have to find the Underworld’s most evil and wicked creatures to be lumberjacks. Every year, we spend large sums of money employing these scumbags.”

“Are the trees Whomping Willows? Or Ents?” the employee asked.

“Of course not! They are something even more terrifying! The Underground Forest has a comprehensive set of self-protection mechanisms.”

Onionhead said in fear, “The memories of that place are something not to be recalled by righteous and optimistic creatures. Especially when you try to cut down those trees…”

…

At Underground Forest No. 3.

After a series of blinding brilliance given out by a Teleport Portal, a Gnome with the word “Peasant” walked out from the portal.

He was fully armed and held a single-handed Axe. He was excited as he looked at the beautiful scenery.

He saw a boundless forest at the end of a cave, as well as the Mana-created sunlight shining on the forest.

Peasant raised his hand to block the glare. Then he dashed towards the closest tree and intended to cut it with his Axe.

A hallucination came over him. In his mind, a voice that seemed to come from the Void said, “If you wish to chop the tree, please answer this question first. Suppose kf(x) = 4

/(1 x). If f(a) = 2, what is the real number, a?”

Behind Peasant, a group of gamers walked out happily from the Teleport Portal. Then they saw Peasant fall flat on the ground motionless, his eyes wide open.