Gamers of the Underworld

Brainiac looked at the battle situation in the crystal ball and pondered.

He obtained approval from Lord Sherlock to research the battle results, but he wasn’t bothered with the fighting prowess of the Ogres. The Ogres ate creatures. Though they were intelligent, their race had the violence defect, and it deterred them from achieving high Mana Skills.

In short, they were on the same level as the Houndhead Men.

Brainiac wasn’t interested in the Ogres, but he was interested in the gamers’ battle prowess.

Especially in this battle, where the gamers exhibited high organizational skills and discipline.

For the Dungeon battles, commanders were required. But the gamers didn’t have a fixed commander.

According to Brainiac’s observations, they were usually in small teams of ten to three hundred. Sometimes, they battled individually. After a meeting, the gamers’ battle organization became thousands of gamers, and it was still increasing.

They had elected a Field Marshal, a Gnome called NotWearingPants, as well as other Guild’s leaders and communications officers.

Brainiac was puzzled and decided to conduct sustained research.

In the crystal ball, Brainiac witnessed the Nth time that the gamers were annihilated.

“Gosh! Why are the Ogres so strong?”

“We have to form a battle formation! Do you understand battle formations? Didn’t you watch it on television dramas?”

“Don’t just think of the equipment! Didn’t we agree to distribute the loot according to contribution? What’s the hurry?”

“D*mn! I’m picking up my own equipment!”

“Follow the contingent closely. We’ll attack in the next wave.”

…

Brainiac looked at the gamers without emotion. He was used to their tactics of dying and reviving to achieve victory. It was like cheating. Until now, Brainiac was unable to figure out the mystery.

It was alright, there was still time. The contract with Sherlock hadn’t even reached halfway. Even if the contract was up, he could continue to sign-on!

The gamers weren’t aware that Brainiac was observing them discreetly. They were fully focused on the extremely difficult battle ahead.

Their tactic was simple and violent. That was to charge as a group before executing a self-detonation and other methods that inflicted huge damage to the Ogres.

The Ogres felt what Cherry King had felt previously.

…

“Full-scale attack! Scale the walls! Take down the walls!” the Ogre Commander shouted loudly on the battlefield.

After several kamikaze bombing attacks by the gamers, the Ogres sustained incremental casualties. The Ogres were no longer complacent and relaxed.

They thought that there were slightly more green-skinned creatures than them. Once the Ogres killed large numbers of green-skinned creatures, would the green-skinned creatures not flee in terror? It was far from reality. There were countless green-skinned creatures.

“Why are there so many green-skinned creatures? We can’t seem to finish them off!”

“Yes, where did these green-skinned creatures come from?”

“They claimed to be from Eternal Kingdom.”

“They claimed to be heroes of the Underworld, the beacon of freedom and some Pioneer nonsense.”

“Some claimed to be junior high students.”

“It’s highly abnormal. I haven’t seen such green-skinned creatures in all my life.”

In an Ogre tent, several leaders hectically discussed the strange occurrences during the past two days of battle.

The powerful Ogres were crushing the green-skinned creatures over the past two days, so they had the attitude of being playful. Since then, there were continuous waves of attack from the green-skinned creatures, even at midnight. They formed groups of hundreds and charged fearlessly at the Ogres’ camp. They couldn’t be annihilated completely. Were they not going to sleep?

Though the Underworld didn’t have sunlight to differentiate between day and night, it was normal for the Underworld creatures to sleep at 10 pm. How did the green-skinned creatures survive without sleep?

The Ogres were both mentally and physically exhausted. They were thinking of exhausting the combat power of the green-skinned creatures before invading the village, but the situation seemed to suggest that the Ogres would collapse first.

The Ogres blew their invasion horns. They could no longer delay.

…

In the Winterfell Dungeon Lord Main Hall.

Red tea swirled in a classy wine glass. Andrew held a glass of bloody chrysanthemum tea and stood in the Dungeon Lord Main Hall as he surveyed the huge Winterfell underneath the balcony.

He was able to see half of Winterfell, including the detestable Adventurer’s Guild in the old district.

He even officiated the grand opening of the Adventurer’s Guild as the Winterfell Dungeon Lord.

That land should belong to him!

Andrew narrowed his eyes, inflamed with jealousy!

That hateful Sherlock was the VIP of the Merchant Alliance and the savior of Winterfell. He had countless loyal and fearless servants. As he saved Winterfell, he demanded a King’s ransom.

He even had an unknown relationship with the Fallen Angel. Andrew had seen the Fallen Angel first, but she invited Sherlock to be her dance partner.

All of these things inflamed Andrew with jealousy. He was the main character, the evilest superior Devil. He came to Winterfell to make himself look good. Once he returned to Eternal Fire, he could boast of his management experience in Winterfell. But now, all that glory was stolen by that Lord Sherlock.

Everyone praised him and his citizens. Nobody cared about Andrew. Nobody!

“Lord Andrew, a reporter would like to interview you,” Andrew’s assistant said.

Andrew looked vicious. The reporter would praise him in the newspaper!

He started scheming.