Chapter Two: The Violent Level-One Chick
Humans, elves, berserkers, elementals, winged folk, celestials, and demons—seven races in total.
The celestials belong unequivocally to the forces of light, born only within the Radiant Guardians Alliance. The demons are forever bound to darkness, emerging solely from the Shadow Warband Alliance.
The winged folk possess wings and the gift of flight, gradually evolving more complete aerial abilities as they rise in level.
The elementals possess an affinity for the elements surpassing even the elves—they are born magicians.
Berserkers' rage grows twenty percent faster than any other race, making them the ideal warriors, knights, or any close-combat profession.
Elves, blessed with remarkable elemental talent, are also unparalleled masters of precision—natural-born archers.
Humans, though seemingly mundane, hold infinite potential and possibility. They excel at nothing in particular, but possess no fatal weakness in any profession.
There was no question—Huang Yunshuo chose human.
He valued their lack of fatal flaws. After all, in the Second World, anything was possible. For example, should an elemental unexpectedly acquire a hidden warrior class, with their meager constitution and strength growth, they’d likely break down in tears on the spot.
“Character name...”
Huang Yunshuo quickly entered: King of All Realms.
“There are currently over ten thousand adventurers using this name. Are you sure you wish to join them?” Ming Ziwei asked softly.
...Huang Yunshuo thought this was only natural. Who wouldn’t want such a bold name? With so many humans, it was inevitable that a few would be similarly dramatic.
“How about ‘Second Place on Day One!’”
“There are currently over one million adventurers using this name. Are you sure you wish to join them?”
Huang Yunshuo nearly spat blood.
Fine, so many fools had already claimed it—what now?
“With so many humans, even random combinations are bound to duplicate. Seems I’ll have to take an unusual path.”
“Weakling?” he tried tentatively, curious if anyone had chosen such a name.
Ming Ziwei’s tone was faint: “Fewer than one hundred adventurers currently use this name. Are you sure you wish to join them?”
Huang Yunshuo doubled over with laughter, clutching his stomach. So there really were idiots using this name—did they know no shame?
“More than ten seconds without input. Adventurer, your name has been set by default as ‘Weakling.’”
Ming Ziwei’s voice was gentle and melodious, yet seemed tinged with...schadenfreude?
“Damn it! I wasn’t serious!” Huang Yunshuo’s laughter froze. Before he could finish, the scene before him shifted abruptly.
“Welcome to Era of Reforging!”
He materialized a meter above the ground, landing unceremoniously on his posterior—cold and sore. Huang Yunshuo stood up, rubbing his backside, still reeling from the blow of his chosen name.
“I actually ended up with ‘Weakling?’” He grumbled, “I swear, Ming Ziwei was mocking me, as if afraid I’d change my mind—kicking me into the game without a chance to object. What the hell does that mean?” He cursed the nature goddess inwardly, vowing that when he became powerful, he’d teach her a lesson. His ridiculous name was surely her doing.
A strong wind swept by, and the still-fuming Huang Yunshuo shivered and gasped unintentionally.
Before him stretched the novice village: green mountains, crystal waters, fresh breeze, white clouds.
A deep breath seemed to cleanse his lungs entirely, and a shout echoed far and wide.
The novice village nestled at the mountain’s foot was scarcely larger than a frigate, yet countless players were utterly enchanted.
Three years had passed since the Supreme Constitution declared the shutdown of Glacial Glory. For three years, people had been deprived of this hyper-real sensory immersion.
On the run, humanity faced nothing but metallic walls of various hues and the clamor of crowded public spaces.
Those aboard the motherships at least enjoyed some room to move. For those like Huang Yunshuo, living for years on tiny shuttles, only a strong mind kept them from succumbing to despair.
“This is incredible, damn it!” Huang Yunshuo shouted, breaking into a run toward the village outskirts.
Cottages clustered neatly, paths crisscrossed, everything tranquil and picturesque.
Countless players in novice shorts and underwear milled about in a daze, lost in delight, until Huang Yunshuo’s yell startled them to attention.
“Go, kill monsters, level up, fight bosses!”
Excitement rose among the crowd.
Scenery could be admired later—strength and advancement mattered most at this moment!
Taking advantage of his head start, Huang Yunshuo was the first to dive into the level-one hatchling monster zone.
“Unbelievable! The world boss is a mechanical beast thousands of meters tall, but the first mobs are these ridiculous chicks?”
He stared in disbelief at the yellow, palm-sized chicks at his feet—monsters, really? They looked like nothing more than adorable mascots.
Raising his foot with calculated cruelty, he stomped on one of the little yellow chicks.
-2.
“Cheep!!!”
With a tragic cry, the chick wriggled free from beneath his foot and snapped at his ankle.
-20!
A sharp pain struck his ankle. Huang Yunshuo jumped, kicking again.
The chick, undaunted, fluttered its stubby wings, leaping ten centimeters into the air to dodge, then pecked the same spot again.
Critical hit!
-40, in bold red.
With only 50 health, Huang Yunshuo’s vision went dark and he dropped.
Thus, the novice village’s respawn point received its first player.
Huang Yunshuo stood at the respawn point, speechless, gazing skyward and then at the ground, exchanging tearful, wordless glances with the few players who appeared after him.
Chicks?
Were these really the palm-sized, seemingly stompable chicks?
Damn, they’d been soloed by a baby chicken! Was there no justice? No law?
Era of Reforging was truly giving players no quarter.
As the respawn point filled to capacity in moments, Huang Yunshuo forced a bitter smile and walked away, seeking a quiet spot to check his stats and inventory.
“A starter wooden shield?”
He twitched at the sight of a single-handed shield in his inventory. What kind of game handed out shields from the beginning?
If he’d known, perhaps he wouldn’t have rushed in so recklessly.
He entered the game full of ambition, only to become the first casualty in the novice village. He wanted to die.
Weakling, Level 1
Human, Bloodlust Value: 0
Constitution: 10
Strength: 10
Agility: 8
Intellect: 7
Health: 50
Mana: 35
Attack: 2-3
Defense: 0
A classic four-stat system—maximum value, ten.
Huang Yunshuo’s constitution and strength were at max for a brawler. Eight agility was high for an ordinary human. Low intellect was a human trait—elves typically started at eight or above, elementals at a natural ten. Humans couldn’t compare.
He checked his inventory again. Aside from the single-handed wooden shield with defense 1, there were actually two gift boxes?
One was black, the other rainbow-hued. Huang Yunshuo’s excitement rose.
Could these be rewards for being among the first to enter the game? Or perhaps that woman, Ming Ziwei, favored him? Or was his machine malfunctioning?
But none of these seemed likely.
System rewards always came with a notice. Ming Ziwei had just set him up—favor was out of the question. And the odds of a bug in the Second World were as low as a glitch in reality itself—virtually nonexistent.