---Third POV---
In the center of the Flesh Rebirth Array, the bloodstains and the serpent's corpse were quickly absorbed.
The ground reverted to a muddy patch, as clean as polished marble, with only a faint smell of blood.
Some players, full of energy, logged in immediately after seeing the announcements, ready to dive into reckless adventures.
But the ominous glowing eyes outside the town scared them off, making them realize that spending magicoins frivolously, or dying without cause, wasn't worth it. Better to wait for daylight to continue their escapades.
"Big reward! Hiring people to investigate the molten lava area of the Serpent's Lair. You must bring back no less than three pounds of local materials as proof!"
"Priority for players who took the timed mission yesterday!"
Early in the morning, ProGamer_Daddy had already logged in, beginning his recruitment spree.
Anticipating potentially fatal situations, he added, "Task-related deaths will be reimbursed for the magicoin penalties!"
Since he currently had a mountain of coins, he was willing to spend freely.
The rewards were so generous that players quickly flocked to him.
"Is the task location far from the town?"
"Very far."
"Wow, what a thrilling mission! I'm in!"
Even players who previously claimed they'd wait to learn one or two skills before venturing out were changing their minds. Those once reluctant to face death penalties suddenly expressed great interest in the dangerous task.
Even those with only a few magicoins in their pockets, fresh from logging in a couple of days ago, were eager to join.
Fortunately, ProGamer_Daddy had standards.
He rejected all the newbies who had just learned their first skill, only recruiting experienced players.
Before the rejected newcomers could get too discouraged, Hedgehog began his own recruitment call.
"Recruiting for the Cloth Cuckoo Workshop! No level restrictions, no player limits, generous pay—sign up now!"
The Cloth Cuckoo was the name the Lucky Stars Team had given their textile factory.
Hedgehog originally wanted to name it Horny Factory, but the suggestion was unanimously vetoed. He had no choice but to settle for this harmless-sounding name.
After seeing the official announcement, the team quickly discussed their strategy.
They realized that during a war-preparation state, they couldn't afford to halt their cloth-making business.
The more players died, the faster their clothes would wear out, creating massive profit opportunities.
This time, they spared no expense, recruiting as many workers as possible.
However, players weren't too excited about mundane, job-like advertisements.
"If I can't leave the safe zone, this mission's boring."
"I came here to play a game, not to be a wage slave."
Hedgehog cleared his throat and announced loudly, "One bolt of cloth earns you 100 magicoins! Average completion time: 3 hours! The fastest way to gather your first bucket of money!"
Before his last word hit the ground, players had surrounded him.
"I love staying in the town!"
"Hehe, I'm actually a furry fan!"
"What the fuck!"
At the church's entrance, players came and went, quickly finding something to do that suited their tastes.
Players with adventurous spirits explored the terrain outside.
Those saving magicoins helped with kiln-burning, charcoal-making, or cloth-cutting.
They were so busy enjoying themselves that no one even glanced at the top of the task board, where the Newbie Guidance Task had been marked with a specially colored frame.
Two days had passed in the world of Aeltia, equivalent to one day on Earth.
It was time for a new batch of players to log in.
Ten new players stumbled to their feet inside the church, looking around in confusion.
"Whoa, this game feels way too real!"
"Wow, is that black-robed figure really just a pile of bones underneath?"
---Viktor's POV---
I heard their whispers as I arrived with Luminaris and Alyanne, showing up punctually at the newbie spawn point. Gazing at the empty church, I silently sighed to myself.
Not a single veteran showed up...
Perhaps we should increase the newcomer reward?
Previously, I thought that meeting newbies was one of the rare social events in this game, and making connections with them should be a reward in itself.
Now it seemed we needed to dangle a bit more incentive.
As usual, the newcomers expressed amazement at everything.
I repeated the introductory lines I could now recite in my sleep, then handed the group over to Alyanne. Given the absence of veteran players to guide them, I added a new instruction, "If you want to gain experience points, you can follow Alyanne to the task area. However, due to the town's current situation, her working hours will be halved for war preparations. If you want to earn money, follow Luminaris to the Cloth Cuckoo Workshop."
After finishing my speech, I privately instructed Luminaris about his role.
"Why do I have to do the guiding!" he protested angrily.
I almost rolled my eyes at his... divine petulance?
"Because we're short on manpower right now. If you don't do it, who will? Me?" I countered.
Luminaris glared but didn't dare retort. He turned away with a huff. Seeing this, I softened my tone.
"It's all for earning divine power. Once Edgar brings in the newcomers he mentioned, you won't have to handle this anymore. I really do have urgent matters, or do you want to go out of Honeyvale Town to handle things for me instead?"
Luminaris's divine glow flickered.
So I pressed on, "Just hang in there a bit longer. Plus, you'll get to bond with your followers—win-win, right?"
"They're really my followers?" Reluctantly, Luminaris turned back.
"Of course!" I said firmly. "Don't you see the divine power income every day? They're definitely your followers!"
I gave Luminaris a push. "Now go!"
He couldn't resist my mix of tough and sweet talk. He stayed silent, seemed to imagine something on his own, and suddenly looked revitalized.
He strode off confidently.
After dealing with the newbies, I was ready to head out myself.
I walked in the direction where the most players had ventured out. By the edge of the safe zone, the nearby grass had been hacked down to bald patches, creating something that resembled a highway. They couldn't have made it more obvious that humans were active in the area if they tried.
I pulled up my hood and let out a long sigh under its shadow.
"Being a good game designer is no easy task."
The players were thrilled to venture outside the safe zone, seeking excitement. But even the dumbest goblins had shamans to balance their intelligence. Such blatant activity near the town meant the settlement would likely be exposed before the goblin lair could even be found.
A good game designer wouldn't want to dampen the players' enthusiasm. Mostly because warnings wouldn't help; how many players truly have perfect counter-surveillance awareness?
Better to let them have their fun and step in to clean up afterward.
I flexed my wrists, confirming that my bones were in good alignment today.
"Let's get to work."
---
The players had made too much noise—it was impossible to hide anymore.
Not long ago, a two-headed howling wolf went on an unusual rampage, stirring up significant chaos.
I barely managed to attribute these disturbances to biological riots.
In the end, I captured ten destructive Stone-Bristle Boars near the area, confining their range to the outskirts of the safe zone. I disguised their appearance as if they had fled into the area due to the forest's riotous state, covering up the traces of player activity.
The stone-bristle boars were large, destructive, and foul-smelling, and they weren't on the goblin's menu. Using them as camouflage was perfect.
Even if the disguise wasn't foolproof, it didn't matter. The outskirts of the Great Oak Forest had no human settlements, though it might attract wandering adventurers.
I used ten points of divine power to incorporate each stone-bristle boar into the game system. When scanned by players, the game panel marked them as non-attackable allied units.
Want to eat pork? Sure, but they would have to wait until the main quest unlocked it automatically.
Work hard, young ones.
---
Wrapping up everything, I returned to Honeyvale Town. It wasn't even noon yet.
After handling the pending data on the players' game panels, I received some exciting news: A player found a plant resembling potatoes on a sparsely wooded slope north of Honeyvale!
Although its leaves were deep purple, the underground tubers were still white and oval-shaped.
The player who discovered it swore it tasted exactly like potatoes when cooked.
Before heading home, I rushed to the location for an assessment.
I confirmed that the plant was indeed non-toxic, highly satiating, and even more nutritious than regular potatoes. Most importantly, it reproduced through asexual tubers, was hardy, and easy to cultivate. Just perfect as a staple crop!
I was both surprised and thrilled.
When I first crossed over and saw the backward civilization of Aeltia and the persistent famine among the lower-class civilians, I had entertained the idea of emulating others in isekai stories:
Introducing corn, sweet potatoes, and potatoes to solve famine; spreading modern ideas to reform society; and leading an industrial revolution into a magic-tech era.
However, I never found the prototypes of the high-yield crops—what looked like them didn't taste right, and what had the right nutrients couldn't be produced cheaply or in large quantities.
Who would've thought that the players, who had only arrived recently, would easily find it?
"What's your name?" I asked.
The player who found the potato stood at attention and confidently declared, "Hello, Lord Viktor! My name is MemeKnight!"
"Hello, MemeKnight. Can you take me to where you found the potatoes?"
"No problem! There are tons of wild potatoes there, the whole hillside is covered with them—it's almost like an invasive species!"
It was probably due to no one passing by for years, allowing the potatoes to grow unchecked. Yield shouldn't be an issue.
I realized that this player was actually a newbie who had just logged in today.
He hadn't even learned a single skill and dared to venture outside the safe zone. Truly, something only a noob would do.
After wrapping a protective barrier around the bold player, I allowed him to lead the way.
When we reached the location, even though I was mentally prepared, I was still shocked by the sea of purple covering the hillside.
There were almost no weeds or trees in sight—just a mass of densely packed, fuzzy leaves.
In my eyes, these were all divine power points!
With food, I could recruit more players and natives.
I had been waiting for Edgar to bring back seeds, only to realize that the best seeds were right under my nose.
I immediately issued a task for the players to dig up and transport all the potatoes from the hillside.
With so much food, I wouldn't feel secure unless I hoarded it myself!
Since I was commandeering the players' discovery, so I gave MemeKnight a very generous reward.
"Wow—thank you, Lord Viktor!"
I even pointed him in the right direction.
"If you want to learn spells, you can visit Luminaris at the church. Also, your discovery greatly alleviated Honeyvale Town's food shortage. You deserve even greater rewards."
As soon as I finished speaking, a new reward popped up on MemeKnight's game panel.
"Contribution points!" he exclaimed in surprise.
"Lord Viktor, actually, it was my girlfriend's idea to go looking for potatoes. She's also a beta tester, just from the last batch. Could she get a share of the reward too?"
"No."
If you're going to exploit bugs, at least come up with a better excuse.
Do I look that easy to fool?
After dividing the rewards, I asked for his opinion. The player wanted to stay outside longer, so I removed his protective barrier and returned alone.
---
There were indeed many potatoes on the hillside.
But in the hands of players who excelled at challenging themselves, they had already dug up a quarter of the hillside within half a day.
By my estimate, the players had dug up at least five tons of potatoes.
The sheer quantity seemed like to give Alyanne a headache while calculating rewards.
Storage space was also an issue—food couldn't be exposed to rain or sun. We had to use a second backup warehouse to store the potatoes temporarily.
News of a newbie discovering potatoes and getting enough rewards to level up three times in one day spread like wildfire among the players.
Aside from those tasked with digging up potatoes, some players came to me, offering 20 magicoins to have me identify strange plants they'd found.
Unfortunately, all of them turned out to be ordinary wildflowers and weeds.
While not entirely useless, their effects were minor and not worth the effort.
As more people came, I eventually couldn't take it anymore.
I bluntly told them 20 tons of potatoes had been already found, and Honeyvale Town wasn't short on food for now, so they shouldn't waste their time.
"What if it's a super rare magical plant?" one player asked.
"Rare magical plants either grow on mountaintops or near lava, require harsh conditions to survive, are highly toxic, or walk around on their own," I replied, gazing at the two players who refused to leave.
"The Great Oak Forest is remote, but not entirely uninhabited. If you want to try your luck, you'd better make sure you're strong enough. "
"I'll also accept regular magical materials, but the rewards won't be as good. And no, MemeKnight didn't get contribution points for those either. "
"Understand?"