Chapter 18: The Second Wave of Newcomers

“Secretary Zhang, didn’t you participate in the test assessment?”

Upon hearing this, Zhao Hu suddenly flipped in the virtual game pod, utterly shocked.

“No, I was too busy. I didn’t have time to take part in that test assessment,” Zhang Qingwei replied, feeling somewhat puzzled. “Does one have to pass that test before entering the game?”

Zhao Hu found himself momentarily speechless.

The official announcement from the High Martial Descent did not state that passing the test assessment was mandatory to enter the game. It only mentioned that passing the test increased the chances of being selected; it never said those who skipped the test would be disqualified.

In other words, Zhao Hu had died hundreds of times during the test, spending over twenty thousand yuan in the process.

Meanwhile, Zhang Qingwei, who did nothing, was already inside…

“Elder Zhao, is there anything else you’d like me to relay?” Zhang Qingwei, seeing Zhao Hu silent for a while, politely asked, not wanting to discourage him further.

“No, that’s all.” After a long pause, Zhao Hu suddenly asked, “Qingwei, what do you think of the Liyah Villa I’m living in?”

“It’s wonderful. That’s a high-end villa specially built by the guild for its distinguished members. There’s no better villa in Lakeheart City,” Zhang Qingwei nodded.

“Well then, I want to trade this Liyah Villa for your High Martial Descent quota,” Zhao Hu said through gritted teeth. “If you agree, today this villa will be yours!”

“Elder Zhao, you must be joking?” Zhang Qingwei felt her mind reeling.

The Tianya Pavilion neighborhood was in the heart of Lakeheart City, where any villa would sell for over a hundred million yuan. Not to mention Zhao Hu’s Liyah Villa—a grand estate envied by many wealthy families, something Zhang Qingwei, as a secretary, could never afford in her lifetime.

Now Zhao Hu was willing to exchange such a luxurious property for a single game spot? No one in the world would believe it.

“I’m not joking. If you agree, I can transfer the ownership electronically right now,” Zhao Hu said decisively, without any hesitation.

Though Zhao Hu had only experienced the test assessment of High Martial Descent, he understood its immense potential. Other virtual games hardly compared, not even the once-glorious Pilgrimage game that had dominated for years.

Getting an early entry into High Martial Descent would be a tremendous advantage for his future.

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Zhang Qingwei was completely stunned.

At this moment, either Zhao Hu had lost his mind, or she had, or perhaps Zhao Hu’s brief experience with the test assessment had unhinged him.

“Really not willing, huh?” Zhao Hu sighed as he looked at Zhang Qingwei’s blank expression. “I guess if I were you, I wouldn’t want to either. Anyway, tell Vice President Luo I’ll catch up soon.”

After saying this, Zhao Hu hung up without waiting for a reply and lay back in the virtual game pod, immediately selecting the test assessment again.

Although the seven slots were gone, the official statements implied more spots would open later. To compete for those, passing the test was necessary.

“Just like that? My villa’s gone just like that?” Zhang Qingwei stared at the silent phone, feeling regretful for her slow reaction.

Before the car accident, she would have made Zhao Hu regret it deeply.

Despite her regrets, her gaze shifted to the virtual game pod beside her.

“I have an early shift tomorrow and must reach the venue before the guild leader and Sword Saint Su Wuming’s recruitment talks. Should I play or not?” Zhang Qingwei hesitated.

But her body was honest—it reclined into the pod without waiting.

“I promised Elder Zhao I’d relay the message to Wu Chang. A quick try won’t affect tomorrow’s work,” she murmured.

As she clicked on the High Martial Descent icon, her vision abruptly shifted.

A dimly lit small room, flickering lights, a cold wind sweeping through the corridor, and six people wearing dark gray long T-shirts—all with differing expressions and behaviors.

One was rubbing his face on the ground, growing more excited the more he rubbed.

Another was frantically touching himself from head to toe, giggling foolishly, exclaiming, “It’s real! It’s real!”

But the most frenzied was a stern young man doing deep squats repeatedly, shouting, “It’s coming! It’s coming!”

“I must have been influenced by Elder Zhao; my mind’s gone crazy too,” Zhang Qingwei thought, watching a room full of lunatics. “Maybe I haven’t rested well lately? That must be it. I only slept ten hours yesterday, and the doctor told me to rest more. This must be the problem.”

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Just as Zhang Qingwei doubted herself, a murmur drifted into everyone’s ears.

“Why do all the newcomers seem so dim-witted?”

“I think there’s at least one smart one. Look at that guy—already doing deep squats. He definitely has a future!”

“Indeed, there’s one smart person. Wonder if he’ll get the feeling soon.”

As these voices rose, those behind the iron bars turned to look. Two men stood there—a shy university student and a scruffy middle-aged man.

Their gazes swept over the group like they were admiring beauties, especially fixated on the stern youth doing deep squats, their looks burning with almost palpable heat.

“How can you say there’s only one smart person?” a lean youth rubbing his face on the ground protested. “How can deep squats compare to me? I’m closer to the ground; I’ll get the feeling first! Give me an hour, I guarantee it!”

“You have a point! Why didn’t I think of that before?” The scruffy man stroked his chin, suddenly enlightened. “Young man, let’s be friends. I like smart people.”

“I miscalculated! I can’t believe I didn’t realize this earlier,” the shy student lamented, touching his nonexistent glasses with a defeated expression. “If I’d done that sooner, maybe I’d have the feeling by now.”

“Am I locked in a mental hospital?” Zhang Qingwei watched the two men outside the bars and felt hopeless. Her mind, however, had become sharper, able to clearly sense the movements of all eight inside. She was definitely getting smarter.

“All right, everyone, this is High Martial Descent—you’re all newcomers. Given time, you’ll develop the feeling,” a gallant woman with shoulder-length hair and a shovel slung over her shoulder strode forward and introduced herself. “Hello, I’m Wu Chang, Vice President of the Tianwei Guild. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me later.”

“High Martial Descent?” Zhang Qingwei stared at Luo Wu Chang before her, dumbfounded. “This is a game?”