Chapter 561 - 346: A Terrible Teammate Is Often Worse Than an Enemy (Part 2)

Chapter 561: Chapter 346: A Terrible Teammate Is Often Worse Than an Enemy (Part 2)

It sounded like the kind of entertainment the rich and powerful invented to torture people when they had nothing better to do.

They’d probably even place bets on who would survive.

And yet, the Loman of today actually interpreted this as a fine tradition for cultivating the spirit of exceptional Warriors.

That was a little twisted.

But as a game, it was admittedly a little interesting.

Characters with different Skills fought each other on an open map. The map contained all sorts of collectible resources. Every so often, equipment would be dropped into the arena for players to fight over, and in the end, only one winner would be left standing.

It was just that the visuals were a bit lousy. The graphics couldn’t compare to Zog’s games at all.

It was probably because their use of Illusion Techniques wasn’t as professional as the Zog Group’s.

Long Jing was very self-aware.

His mechanical skills in games weren’t great, but his overall game sense wasn’t bad. He relied on his quick wits and liked to find all sorts of unorthodox strategies.

It was much the same with *Glorious Battlefield*.

After studying a large number of guides, Long Jing came up with a few strategies he figured would be highly effective. Once he felt reasonably confident, he officially started the game when his turn to go online arrived.

The first strategy Long Jing prepared to practice was the self-destruct build.

Since the game allowed for teaming up, Long Jing figured the best way to play with the Duke’s son was to keep him safe and comfortable, while also providing some entertainment.

The self-destruct build was perfect for this.

Play passively in the early game, camp until you find a detonation Rune item, find a mount, then stalk other teams. Hit accelerate, charge right into the enemy’s face, and take them out with a self-destruct.

Highly entertaining, and highly humiliating.

It should make the spectating Duke’s son very happy.

’Purely utilitarian.’

’Sigh, even playing a game is a chore.’

It looked like this was a game Loman had poured the nation’s resources into, just to prove they could do whatever Zog could. Even the loading screen featured the Imperial Family’s crest.

Besides, there weren’t many other games to choose from. This one had become a true national phenomenon, and matchmaking was lightning-fast.

Long Jing tried a few rounds. Since his goal wasn’t to be the last survivor but just to master the self-destruct, he restarted frequently.

He also discovered a useful tank character that, with the right gear, could survive the blast and keep going.

After a few rounds, he was quite proficient with the tactic. With half of his allotted time left, Long Jing decided to play the next match out completely, trying to survive as long as possible.

’I’ll research other strategies tomorrow.’

The final match began. Long Jing’s luck was good; he got the ideal setup: the tank character, defensive gear, the highest-damage detonation Rune, and he even managed to scrape by until the very end.

He was playing team mode, after all. Surviving to the final moments was no easy feat.

’Maybe I could actually be the last survivor.’

Long Jing watched the situation on the field. The circle had shrunk to a very small area. Besides him, lying prone at the very edge and passively healing himself, there were still two teams left on the field.

Even better, the two teams had started fighting each other.

Elimination notices popped up on the screen one by one.

Long Jing suddenly noticed that the first ones to be eliminated all seemed to be ranged characters. The two teams were down to a melee brawl.

’Doesn’t that mean...’

’A single self-destruct could wipe out both teams?’

An excellent spy must know how to seize an opportunity.

Seeing the remaining players of the two teams locked in an inseparable brawl, Long Jing immediately summoned his mount, activated his speed boost, and charged full-tilt toward the battlefield.

And at the perfect moment, he activated the detonation Rune.

"BOOM!"

The screen flared with light. A huge explosion animation... froze.

Then, the results screen popped up.

"Congratulations, you are the final survivor, a great Warrior."

"Phew—"

Long Jing let out a long breath. Even though he was only playing the game for work, winning in the end still felt awesome.

Just as he was about to log off, a private message suddenly came in.

From "Nord Territory Sword Saint."

The name looked a bit familiar. It seemed to be a member of one of the two teams he had just blown up.

The team leader, probably.

And the Nord Territory just so happened to be one of Duke Welton’s many fiefs, where the Duke’s Mansion was located.

This Sword Saint seemed to have a fiery temper. The messages came in rapid-fire, like machine gun shots.

"Have you never won before?"

"Have you no sense of honor?!"

"Coward!"

"Sewer rat!"

"Using such a disgusting playstyle in a game... your real life must be a complete tragedy!"

’He’s so mad.’

Long Jing calmly scratched his nose.

He hadn’t expected to run into a troll just by playing a game. The etiquette of the Loman Empire’s netizens was less than ideal.

It was just that, for Long Jing, these kinds of attacks were rather lacking in bite.

As someone who grew up on the streets, what kind of verbal abuse hadn’t he endured?

In response to the Sword Saint’s taunts, he simply replied: "Too bad. You just got eliminated by a sewer rat."

After he sent that message, there was a brief moment of calm, and then it was as if he’d lit a powder keg.

More verbal attacks came flooding in, one after another, without pause.

The Sword Saint was clearly furious.

All sorts of swear words came pouring out. His class really left something to be desired.

But to Long Jing, swear words were even less effective.

The guys in his guild had always used swear words as punctuation.

They’d start a sentence with a direct relative, end it with a reproductive organ, and sprinkle in some rather unsightly verbs as punctuation in between.

Long Jing didn’t want to retaliate in the same way.

He noticed that teamed up with this Sword Saint was an account with a very feminine name.

So he said, "Don’t tell me you were trying to carry a girl you like to a win, but you weren’t skilled enough. Now you’re pissed, you’ve lost face in front of her, and there’s nothing you can do about it."

In order to be a better gaming companion for the Duke’s son, the ability to win online arguments was also an important skill.

The Sword Saint went silent again.

This silence was even longer than the last.

Nearly two minutes later, he finally spoke.

"Watch your tone, you lowly commoner! You’re insulting the heir of a great Duke! I could have you hanged for this!"

"Oh? Can’t win the argument, so you’re pulling rank? If you’re the great Duke’s heir, then I’m the great Duke."

"You’re dead! I am a son of Welton!"

’A son of Welton?’

Long Jing suddenly grew suspicious. ’It couldn’t be such a coincidence, could it? Might as well keep bluffing to test him.’

"Didn’t Welton have more than fifty kids?"

"You’re insulting my father, you lowly peasant!"

"You say he’s your father, so he’s your father? Anyone can claim to be anything on the internet."

"I know the layout of the Duke’s Mansion."

"So do the servants at the Duke’s Mansion. Are you a servant’s son?"

...

「Nord Territory, Duke Welton’s Mansion.」

In the youngest son’s room, the Duke’s most favored son stood before the gaming terminal, his face flushed red. He furiously kicked his chair, but it did nothing to quell his rage.

This was too humiliating! His family already limited his gaming time, and now he had to run into someone like this!

’No, I have to prove I’m the Duke’s son.’

’I’ll make that peasant, worthless as dust, realize who I am. Then he’ll panic about offending a noble, lie awake all night, and tremble under his covers.’

However, no matter what he said to prove his identity, the other person found a way to refute it.

’I can’t win an argument against him!’

Realizing this, the Duke’s youngest son still wasn’t ready to give up. He decided to find some physical proof.

First, he took a photo of himself in his luxurious room and sent it over.

"Pic from the internet. Where’d you steal it?"

"ARGH—"

The Duke’s son flew into an impotent rage, shrieking incoherently. When had he ever been this insulted?

’What picture can’t be found online?’

’Right!’

He suddenly had a great idea.

Grabbing his small camera, he went to his father’s study. Duke Welton was away at a meeting, and the study was normally off-limits to everyone else.

But not to him.

He rummaged through drawers and cabinets until he found a document stamped with the royal crest. He opened it and took a picture. It seemed to be about when to invade the Northern Domain, and some plans or something. He didn’t pay much attention.

All those words just gave him a headache.

Photo taken, uploaded, sent.

His breathing was fast and heavy with anger. After sending the image, he couldn’t wait to type, "Call that an internet pic now! Go on, find that picture online for me!"

However, the other person didn’t reply. It felt like landing a punch on a ball of cotton.

This made the Duke’s son very annoyed.

So he clicked on the other person’s profile.

Account deleted?