Skeleton Knight Mazia (4)

I bought one invitation ticket with money I’d scraped together by going all-in right before bed. In the meantime, the boss had teamed up with the kids and bought another one. We put Komari in as Maru’s daughter and Rain in as Dora’s, and with that, all five members of Parallel had gathered in one place.

Ji Tong-sil decided from now on to focus purely on hunting while managing the members’ sleep schedules. Our promotional strategy also shifted from the previous aggressive approach to a more subtle one. Which meant… there wasn’t really anything to watch starting today.

“…Why only eight thousand?”

The boss and the members had all logged into the server. Each of them was pulling about one and a half times their usual viewer count. Yet my own numbers were still stuck at eight thousand. Exactly the same as when I’d ended the stream yesterday.

Why?

Was it because people still wanted to see the Skeleton Knight playstyle? Normally, if viewers have expectations, their watch time naturally increases. That leads to small donations, hanging around with the streamer, following for notifications, and eventually subscribing. That’s the usual pattern.

But my broadcast was only for two weeks. There wouldn’t be any more after that.

I could understand the 64Cubics fans losing their minds over the Skeleton Knight, but getting overly invested would only make things harder for them later. Still, since the members had their streams on, I decided to check who was watching and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tossed out a casual greeting.

“Since the boss and the members have started their broadcasts, I’ll go get my gear from Mister MoovGun and start earning money for real. I’ll switch the screen to whatever looks interesting, so please keep watching.”

A quick scan showed that about half the viewers had come specifically for the Skeleton Knight gameplay. Around ten percent were asking if I was hunting with MoovGun. The rest were my usual audience.

I knew people went crazy for hidden classes, but I hadn’t expected the hype to last this long. Maybe it was because I still hadn’t gone into a proper dungeon yet? In that case, half of these eight thousand would probably drop off by the end of today.

It was a shame the other members hadn’t discovered any hidden jobs. If the kids had, we could have ridden that influx for at least a week. Oh well. Nothing I could do about it.

Anyway, I just had to do what I came here to do. For now, I’d focus on helping the members switch to their second-tier jobs.

Unlike the first tier, which focused on gathering materials, the second tier involved staying in the village and crafting all sorts of things. That meant a lot more interaction with other players. And more interaction meant more good scenes.

The boss had said she was buying a plot today, so if I made a chest there and stocked it with items, the members could handle the rest themselves.

You’re probably wondering what this “subtle promotion strategy” actually is. The answer is simple: it only works once we start making money. So first, I had to clear the dungeon. I needed to know roughly how much I could earn per day before I could make any real calculations.

Which meant today I would live in the dungeon.

Soon, a whisper arrived from MoovGun.

Since I was supposed to receive the gear in front of the dungeon, I ran straight there. The surface was just a normal forest, but when I followed the stone staircase MoovGun had dug beforehand, I found a massive portal waiting.

“Oh. That’s pretty cool.”

“It’s my first time seeing one. I’m still basically a 64Cubics newbie, you know.”

“I’m serious. If you add up all my playtime on this server, it’s ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠barely fifty hours.”

Since mentioning past lives or reincarnation on a VTuber stream would get you banned, I sent a few people to the timeout corner for a permanent vacation. If they felt wronged, they could write their complaints from jail. Anyway, I was a proud newbie who had been playing for less than a month.

“I haven’t even been to the Void World that comes after the Red World.”

“Nope. I know it exists, but I’ve never fought one.”

“Thank you.”

I found the word “friendship” a little off-putting, but I decided to let it slide. Friendship? Please. Momo’s vicious turret was always ready to fire a missile straight into MoovGun’s face the moment he crossed the line.

“Anyway, can I have the gear now?”

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Helmet, chestplate, leggings, gloves, and pauldrons. All five pieces came with a purple glow, granting a 40% damage reduction effect. Apparently wearing the full Void set would raise that to 60%. But according to MoovGun, even he would need two full days to get it, so I wasn’t going to worry about it for now.

The gear he gave me was already so good I wouldn’t need higher-tier equipment anytime soon. The maximum enchantment level in 64Cubics was 5, and…

Two pieces had Protection Lv5, adding another 20% damage reduction. Two had Swiftness Lv5, boosting movement and action speed by 120%. One had Thorns Lv5, reflecting 10% of incoming damage. It was the definition of overpowered armor.

And then there was the Obsidian Sword he gave me as a weapon. It had the Extinction Lv5 enchant. A completely broken option that inflated final damage by 120%. I’d heard it was incredibly hard to get. Where on earth did he find it?

My old Diamond Sword only did around 20 damage on a headshot. With the Extinction enchant, the Obsidian Sword hit living targets for a whopping 36 damage on headshots. A massive vertical leap in damage!

Still, after calculating the numbers, I couldn’t help but feel he was giving me way too much. …He wasn’t going to come back later claiming I owed him, was he?

“This gear is way too good. These enchants couldn’t have been easy to get.”

MoovGun answered casually.

“I can just dodge.”

“I see.”

“No, you’re probably busy. Just give me the short version. I’ll figure out the rest by bashing my head against it.”

I politely declined his offer to hunt together. He seemed to get the message.

The dungeon had ten floors total. Each floor spawned different monsters, and the higher you went, the stronger they became. According to the server guide, you needed proper weapons, armor, and upgrades to clear the tenth floor.

Higher-tier weapons and armor had to be crafted by second-tier blacksmiths using materials and ores dropped in the dungeon. Upgrades could be done at the upgrade station in the village square at noon using enhancement stones obtained from killing monsters.

Incidentally, those enhancement stones were another major source of income from the dungeon. They became more expensive in the late game, so I needed to collect as many as possible while minimizing my own usage.

“I’m a diligent taxpayer. I would never do that.”

“Why? Guilty conscience?”

It looked like MoovGun was leaving the dungeon to me so he could collect his 20% commission while searching for hidden classes. Since I had decent gear now, this was the perfect time to hunt for them. In a day or two, more people would enter using invitation tickets and the server would get crowded. At that point, the chance of someone else snatching a hidden class would skyrocket.

Now, about that subtle promotion strategy I mentioned earlier.

The flood of new residents. They were my next promotional targets.

Remember how everyone lost their minds on the first day of the server when there were only ten thousand WK? More people would keep joining, but it probably wouldn’t be easy for them to start earning money right away. They might lose out in turf wars against the veterans, or they might just be lost because they weren’t used to this kind of server.

Latecomers face all sorts of difficulties. So I planned to invest half of what I earned into our kids and steadily distribute the other half to the new arrivals. It would be called the settlement support fund, given in the name of Parallel’s first generation—Another.

That was why I needed to see how much I could earn today.

The more I made, the more I could share with both the members and the newcomers.

Half of the original eight thousand couldn’t hold out and left. This was the result of today’s twelve-hour ant-grinding session.

I originally had ten thousand, so I had earned a staggering 380,000 WK. Since not many people had switched to second-tier jobs yet, I sold most of the items to the shop. Even after excluding the enhancement stones, this was how much I made. If users started buying dungeon materials, the prices would go up even more. It was basically a money fountain. Just slice up monsters and cash flowed in.

Thanks to the good gear, my HP barely dropped at all.

“Thank you to everyone who told me to go to the dungeon. Thanks to you, taking care of Parallel has become much easier.”

“It’s better for the boss and the members to use it than me. I should put it in the chest at the house plot.”

On my way to the Parallel house plot that the boss had started building, a flaming bird suddenly descended from the sky and landed gracefully in front of me. The person who had been walking yesterday was now riding a phoenix. It seemed MoovGun was the one who had pulled the Phoenix from the mount gacha earlier.

“Perfect timing.”

Today’s earnings were around 380,000 WK. After rounding up for the 20% commission, it came to 77,000 WK. I converted it into a check and dropped it in front of him. MoovGun’s eyes widened the moment he saw the amount.

“Yes. It earns pretty well.”

“Not really? It was manageable.”

“Food? No?”

“Ah. Yes. I ate four energy bars. I was busy hunting and moving the kids’ screens around on the broadcast.”

MoovGun muttered with a sigh.

“Wow. That pun was genuinely terrible.”

“The second one was definitely on purpose.”

Of course, MoovGun’s wordplay didn’t stop there.

“Wow…………”

A genuine sigh escaped me. What kind of joke sense was this? Were all pro gamers like this? This was exactly why I hated it whenever MoovGun streamed with the boss. His jokes didn’t even deserve a zero.

“Have a good day. Since you pulled a mount, come collect again tomorrow on your own.”

As I closed the Wicker server, I muttered under my breath.

“You really should learn when to stop with the jokes…”

It sounded like backtalk, but it was loud enough for MoovGun to hear on purpose.

Starting the next day, Mazia avoided MoovGun. He wasn’t someone she particularly liked anyway, and she figured if they met he would just hit her with more weird jokes.

She thought she would just move to a different spot once someone else found a new dungeon, but…

After avoiding MoovGun for a few days, other people started appearing in front of Mazia one by one. Since she had been going around giving out disaster relief funds (some called it Jia-nan support funds) to the new server newbies for several days, people figured she must be earning a lot and started coming to her.

However, the nickname MoovGun had mentioned on stream seemed to have become a meme. Everyone who came had to say the same thing.

Even Ronze, who came to bribe her for cheaper enhancement stones later, said:

“I haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll eat…”

Even Kamik, who had lost all his assets upgrading and came to borrow money at 30% interest, said:

“Should I raise the interest to 40%?”

Finally, Serena, who came last, also started by worrying about my health.

No. Just because I ate a few energy bars everyone was making such a fuss. Because of the underground room duty I had eaten dinner early at four o’clock, and since it was hard to leave my seat I just ate energy bars. Of course when I got home I was starving so I had a simple meal before bed. It was only the first day of the dungeon so I had to test how much I could earn. It wasn’t like I lived solely on energy bars every day.

Mazia, who had somehow grown horns from all the nagging, asked grumpily.

“I’m eating pineapple pizza right now. Want me to send you a gift card?”

“Too bad. So. Did you come to borrow money too, Serena?”

Serena was a blacksmith. She told Mazia:

“Hmm? If you make it for free, don’t you lose out, Serena?”

Mazia could sense a subtle money-loving side to Serena, whom she had thought was purely kind ever since their I’m a Wolf collab.

“Is it because of the invitation ticket?”

Serena hesitated before answering.

“That’s too bad. What about the special invitation ticket?”

Hearing that, Mazia felt an unexpected wave of sympathy. How desperate must they have been to come ask a rival agency for help like this?

“That’s unfortunate…”

Coincidentally, Mazia had been stuck because the monsters on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fifth floor were too strong. Even reaching the fifth floor had required some risky plays, so she was feeling the need for better gear. If Serena was this desperate, she would probably craft the strongest possible equipment to earn money, right?

Unlike the others, she hadn’t directly mentioned the starvation keyword either. After finishing her mental calculations, Mazia answered cheerfully.

“I’ll give you all the materials I get from hunting for the next two hours. Go make something and if it’s not enough, just tell me.”