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Chapter 221: Episode 221_Don’t Talk to

About Suckers (1)

1.

Before the advent of virtual reality, when PC gas dominated the market, players gravitated toward three main types of online gas. First, there were the AOS gas, which appeared like a cot at the tail end of the era, dethroning the long-reigning RPGs to command the top spots for years. Then there were the RPGs, which still maintained a steady popularity. Finally, web gas garnered support from an older demographic for their simple controls and features like auto-hunting.

While AOS gas had an overwhelming market share, they couldn’t hold a candle to RPGs or web gas in terms of revenue. The system was simple: the more you invested, the stronger you beca. This created a wealth gap even within gas, leading to user complaints and departures, but it was also the very factor that swelled the ga companies’ profits. It was a system so effective that so users would pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a web ga with only a few thousand active players. For those with money, this kind of cash-fueled progression was incredibly appealing.

Perhaps it was an expression of a hidden instinct. In reality, using money to crush others could be a cri or an abuse of power, but not in a ga. As long as you spent your money within the legitimate system the company provided, you could fight hundreds, even thousands of people with a smile on your face while casually chatting. This was why so many ga companies imported similar gas from abroad for a quick cash grab. Who cared if they were criticized? There were few better ways to generate such massive profits.

Of course, savvy users didn’t spend their money in such places. While so people with money to burn might splurge for a few months as a hobby, who would invest their ti and money in a ga destined to fail?

Kenji was no different. He had played countless gas and had seen many of this kind. Losing a few hundred thousand dollars was no great burden for his entertainnt, but as a businessman, he knew just how foolish such an investnt was. That was why, in 『Fantastic World』, he was ticulous about his spending. He had money to burn, but 『Fantastic World』 induced far more spending than he had anticipated. No, it didn’t induce it—it compelled you to do it. It was the most clever and brilliant system. It wasn’t mandatory, but it was beneficial. For a man like Kenji, overflowing with wealth and a desire to be stronger than anyone else, what temptation could be more inviting?

And so, for the first ti, he made an unplanned expenditure.

"She’s beautiful," Kenji murmured to himself.

He was a man, after all. Born with a diamond spoon in his mouth, he had t countless won, including world-famous actresses. After inheriting the family business, his handso looks ant he could be with any woman he set his mind on. Perhaps that was why his standards had beco so high. Or maybe the won who craved his love, only to be cast aside when he prioritized work over them, had shattered his illusions about romance. So he had given up on the dream of true love and devoted himself to his work.

But then he saw the Saintess.

"Wow."

’Maybe that was all just bullshit,’ he thought. Work, love... considering the emotions he was feeling now, it suddenly occurred to him that he had simply never t a woman who was truly his type.

He looked closer. A woman with an appearance you would only see in dreams was right there, beyond the screen.

He fell silent.

He reached out a hand. The high-definition screen made it feel as if he were really touching her, but alas, she was an unreachable ideal. The only thing he could do was raise his fan club level to be the first to see the photos other n couldn’t.

Unplanned sums of money began to flow into Han Simin’s account, but Kenji didn’t think it was a waste. As a businessman, he was well aware of whose pockets the money was lining. For now, however, he was simply engrossed in a hobby that had captivated him at first sight—one that wasn’t ti-consuming and didn’t interfere with his main ga. It was a clean and invigorating pasti.

And so, a pure-hearted sucker with no competitive intent began to climb steadily toward the number one ranking—a feat he hadn’t even achieved in 『Fantastic World』 itself.

*

Her eyes were crimson, yet they held a strange charm that drew you in. Her lips were like unripe cherries, her nose perfectly sculpted. Above all, her face was so small it was a wonder all her features fit. Flawless skin was a given, and her slender jawline was astonishing every ti he saw it.

"Squeaker."

"Yes, Dad?"

"Who did you use as a reference for your polymorph?"

"Huh?"

"I an, when you transform, you must think about which human form to reference, right? It’s not like your appearance changes randomly like a random weapon box."

"Umm..."

Squeaker, who had been absorbing a few gold coins from the pouch she’d wheedled out of Saint, tilted her head at Simin’s unexpected question. She fell into deep thought, but an answer didn’t co easily.

Watching her, Kardian stepped in to resolve her predicant. "Did I not ntion it before? A dragon’s polymorph is related to its innate characteristics. It is impossible to transform into any desired form."

"Really? So even if you wanted to turn into an orc?"

"...It would change into a form befitting an orc," Kardian replied.

"Hmm. So that’s how it is. Then it must be Betago’s will."

At the brisk answer, Simin let Squeaker off the hook and fell back into his thoughts. It was a trivial concern, to be sure. So worthless, in fact, that he would have been better off working to earn money in that ti. But he was simply curious. Han Simin had beco successful enough to afford spending ti on such minor curiosities. In the real world, he was the owner of a $30 million building, and the rent alone brought in enough money each month for him to live comfortably without working. And that wasn’t even counting his streaming and advertising revenue.

When you earn, you must act the part! The money-crazed beggar had learned a little about how to enjoy his leisure.

"So who did Betago use for the customization?" Simin wondered aloud.

"What is a Betago?" Kardian asked.

"What you would call a god."

Kardian fell silent.

Whoever the model was, it was fascinating. NPCs were programd by Betago, so it was no surprise they would find any appearance appealing. Even if each was given an individual AI, Betago could simply command them to feel favorable toward Squeaker at a deep, instinctual level, even if she were to wreck their hos.

But strangely, even players felt an attraction to Squeaker. Of course, if you grabbed a hundred people off the street, ninety-nine would probably say they’d sell their house to marry her—she was that beautiful. But this was a ga played by tens of millions of people worldwide. There had to be soone whose type she wasn’t. Yet, so far, he hadn’t seen a single negative comnt. Even won were just full of envious remarks. It ant that the number of people who disliked her was incredibly small.

’Betago probably just extracted the traits of beautiful won by global standards and customized her well,’ he mused. ’It seems to have captured the modern standards of beauty perfectly, too.’

"Tsk."

It would have been better if he knew the exact criteria. In any case, feeling richer by the day thanks to Squeaker, Simin stroked her head.

"Hehe."

Was this what it felt like to be the CEO of a managent company handling a global superstar? He patted Squeaker once more as she snuggled into his arms, then pushed her away gently. And he prayed inwardly.

’If possible, I hope she was made to fit the tastes of the world’s super-rich, not just the general public. So they’d fall for her at first sight and hand over their house deeds, their company docunts, everything.’

"Hmm?" Squeaker looked up.

"Whew. Never mind. Where in the world would you find a rich guy that senseless? Now that I’ve made so money, I realize how absurd that idea is. A rich man who throws away his fortune over a woman? If a fool like that ever existed, he’d have to run into

and get fleeced to the bone."

2.

The Grand Temple quickly stabilized. Not much had to change. A Saintess had appeared to beco a beacon of hope in the continent’s ti of crisis, and the heretics who would have been a major internal obstacle had been dealt with. If anything, things were better. The initial uneasy atmosphere improved over a few days, and people were busy praying that it was all a blessing from God.

The vacant seats of the six elders were, to their supporters’ dismay, quickly filled by people from the Pope’s faction, so the Temple’s operations were never paralyzed. Even the followers of the six elders, feeling betrayed by the n who had been frad as heretics by Simin’s sche, pledged their loyalty to the Pope.

At the center of these rapid changes was, of course, Squeaker.

"Hello," she would say.

"Gasp! It’s the Saintess!" a priest would exclaim.

Ard with the capitalist smile Simin had taught her, she now wandered the Grand Temple on her own, her bright face infusing the place with a vitality that made it seem as if it had never been in turmoil. In addition to the priests, the number of nobles visiting with donations in hand just to catch a glimpse of the Saintess was also gradually increasing.

It was the dawn of the age of the Saintess!

The Saintess, who could have wielded even greater power within the Temple if she wished, frequented one place above all others: Saint’s room.

"Hello, Saint."

"Saintess! You’ve co!"

"Hehe. Yes. I was hungry."

"Oh dear. It must be difficult for you."

"Not at all. It is a grace bestowed by God. It is only my inadequacy that forces

to rely on you... I feel so sorry."

"Not at all! How could you say such a thing? It is my duty to serve you, Saintess. To , gold is but a lump of lead that I cannot take with

when I die, so please do not say such things."

"Ah, thank you."

Simin had given her a forty-eight-hour lecture on how to get gold instead of just being given it. Now, she visited Saint to achieve self-sufficiency. Having shaken off the troubleso leech and resolved his additional expenditures, Simin heard a welco voice after a long ti.

"Simin."

"Oh? Yes, Seolah. Have you been well?"

It was the Specialists, who had gone silent after reaching the Black Mage Order! Every ti they had called before, Kang Yeseul’s voice was the first he heard, but this ti it was Jeong Seolah. A smile naturally spread across Simin’s face.

"Looks like Yeseul finally died. Too bad."

"Hey! Who are you calling dead?!"

"Oh. Hi."

Then ca the usual chaotic chatter.

"Ugh, damn. I’m exhausted."

"What did you even do?" Hyeonsu grumbled.

"Hey, Hyeonsu, watch it. You know one word from

could land you in an underground prison, right?"

They were as lively as ever. Amidst the noise, however, Jeong Seolah’s voice sounded a little grim.

"Um, Simin. We have a bit of a problem."

"A problem? What is it?"

"We did as you said and successfully entered the Black Mage Order, but..."

"Yes?"

"Our levels are too low to proceed with the related quests."

"...Ah."

Simin, who had been lying in bed, shot upright. The aning behind Seolah’s final words was clear. She wasn’t the type to call him for such a trivial reason.

"I’m on my way."

This was a situation that required rapid leveling. Simin rushed out of his room and saw Kardian at the end of the hall, carrying trays of food.

"Hey! Get the car ready!"

Kardian was dumbfounded.

"We have sowhere to go."

She remained silent.

"I’ll give you twenty points."

The two figures known as the Saintess’s mother and father departed for the Black Mage Order.

*

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