I Gain Infinite Gold Just By Waiting-Chapter 244: Episode 49_Golden Dragon (4)

5.

Every game has growth walls—barriers placed before players who are climbing the ladder of progression.

Depending on the developer’s intent, these walls can be numerous and frequent, practically impossible to break through, or easily overcome with enough effort—or cash.

They can be obstacles that hinder a player’s growth, but they are also essential for keeping players engaged.

Hardship, adversity, and the sense of achievement that comes from investing time and money to overcome them.

In truth, most players prefer that sense of achievement to the simple thrill of easily killing monsters. That’s why they play games.

It’s a kind of reward that’s hard to obtain in real life.

A life of daily repetition. A position where your accomplishments are credited to someone else. A paycheck that’s barely enough to live on.

As you grow duller, you only get better at cutting corners, and the desire to challenge yourself quietly disappears.

That’s why game developers must understand the hearts of their players and strike the right balance in this tug-of-war if they want their game to thrive.

And in this world, the dungeons were a perfect reflection of that gaming reality.

—Dungeons really do feel like a game.

—The growth walls are terrifying.

—If you don’t have talent, you’re stuck in the tutorial for years, and if you do have talent and get the right class, you shoot straight up the rankings.

For the majority of players, dungeons were a solid glass ceiling they would never break through. But for those with the talent—or luck—to shatter those walls, they were express elevators to the top.

They could be a source of discrimination and deprivation, but the ’game company’—whatever force was behind it all—remained unmoved by player complaints. It had silenced that discontent with perfect game design, earning even greater praise in the process.

Ultimately, players came to accept these hurdles as an unavoidable part of the grind.

—If you want to get over the wall, you have to grind. Whether it’s items, class, or cash, it doesn’t matter.

—Why is breaking into 4-star so damn hard? Even with an EXP buff, leveling is brutal.

—I can enter a 6-star dungeon, but my stats are too low...

Nothing was ever perfect.

Even the wealthy, who poured all their time and money into the system, couldn’t grow exactly as they wished inside a dungeon. The sheer number of growth factors and variables demanded their constant attention.

Any single weakness could become a lethal threat, and neglecting it meant that a sudden death was always just around the corner. From the players’ perspective, the world was filled with nothing but towering, insurmountable walls.

On the other hand, if a player managed to meet every condition—if they checked every single box—they would demonstrate an absurd rate of growth.

The first to prove it had been Fly.

—What even is Kim Buja?

—He revealed his level; he’s 52. And he’s going for a 9-star?

—It’s an 8-star Legendary.

—8-star, 9-star, same difference.

The second was Kim Buja.

At some point, he shattered that wall and began a meteoric rise, one that showed no signs of stopping.

He possessed unbelievable mechanical skill, backed by items that supported him perfectly. On top of that, even the pet he brought along was so exceptional that people were starting to wonder if it was actually stronger than him.

Then, you added his mass appeal to the mix.

To ordinary people and average players, Fly and Kim Buja were in another universe entirely, so they were simply lumped together as “those out-of-reach guys.” They lacked the knowledge or experience to truly judge which of them was superior, and the two played completely opposite classes anyway.

However, they could easily judge which one felt more familiar and approachable.

—Where are we going today?

—I’m bored, so let’s hit that 8-star Legendary today.

—How about a 9-star collab run with Fly?

“I’m filtering any mention of other players. Please refrain from bringing up my competition.”

—But I saw you and Fly going into Sand Castle together yesterday?

He was a player who actually communicated with his viewers.

Whatever his reasons—money or otherwise—for those who could watch the daily life of a top-ranked player in detail, Kim Buja felt far more familiar and accessible.

Some might think it was nothing special.

But that “nothing special” fandom, as it grew, would set trends, shape the mood of the era, and coalesce into an invisible kind of power.

“We’ve started selling Sand Castle entry tickets. If you want to buy one, follow the link, check the location, and purchase it there. You all know it’s a better hunting ground than Ice Castle, right? The price is a bit higher, but instead of squeezing into some cramped corner in Ice Castle, which is full of veteran campers, you can hunt much more comfortably in Sand Castle. So please, head on over.”

—Hahaha, look at him promoting both when they’re both his.

—He probably doesn’t even take a cut from Ice Castle, that’s why he’s doing this, lol.

—Wasn’t his share for Sand Castle like 80% or something?

—Yeah. Everyone going to Sand Castle, buy a lot!

—I’m more excited to see what crazy item he shows us next.

—I’m more excited about how much he’ll make from this.

—Let me help with the promo. The people who are gonna buy will buy anyway.

Between the Gold mission video and the Sand Castle entry tickets, his points were piling up like a snowdrift.

* * *

[▶ Gold on Hand: 781,402]

[▶ P on Hand: 2,421,224]

“Haah.”

He had gone to sleep and woken up famous.

He had experienced this once before.

Back before he awakened as a player, before dungeons had appeared in the world, there was a moment when a video of him beating a slew of pro gamers shot to the top of the trending list, and the views on his tiny channel exploded overnight.

A moment when it felt like the whole world was watching.

He had been completely stunned back then, too.

There had been a time when he was frustrated that no matter how well he played, he couldn’t attract any attention. Then he’d gone to sleep, woken up, and was suddenly drowning in it.

Even then, he’d never felt this dazed.

“This is insane.”

This time, however, it wasn’t something to be flustered about.

He had already expected this; he’d done it all with the full intention of raking in a massive number of points.

This hadn’t been handed to him by chance; he had planned and anticipated every part of it.

Even so, he found himself zoning out.

Automatically.

’It’s this easy to earn points.’

He felt like he finally understood why scammers were willing to risk their lives to swindle people.

He also understood why the rich left their own money untouched, instead starting businesses and raising funds with other people’s money.

The money of the masses.

When it stacked up, penny by penny, it became a force you couldn’t possibly ignore.

He had already learned this while running his video channel.

One view.

A fraction of a cent per view.

By now, Kim Buja’s channel had arguably the highest ad rate in the world, yet the per-view rate was still less than a cent. Yet when those tiny numbers accumulated, the revenue per video became an amount an ordinary person couldn’t even imagine, and that money was deposited straight into his bank account.

At first, even that had amazed him.

These days, he had grown numb to cash and hadn’t bothered checking his balance in quite a while.

But now that he was earning the points he desperately needed, this easily and in such vast quantities, his heart couldn’t help but race.

Of course, it wasn’t free money.

He had stopped the spread of Sand Castle, which might have brought about the end of the world, and he had conquered Ice Castle. As the owner of both, he was merely exercising his right to a share of the profits.

Even so, the thought of going shopping made his heart pound.

’I’m still short, though.’

At the same time, the reality that he was one step closer to his goals made him more serious.

He had more points than gold.

He was happy, yet also overwhelmed by how far he still had to go.

However, one thing was certain: everything was going according to plan. In the process, the power he was gaining was more than enough to shatter the walls that ordinary players felt pressing down on them.

“In one week, I’m tackling the 8-star Legendary dungeon.”

* * *

6.

“That item isn’t here yet, is it?”

“Heh heh. It’s a custom order, so it’ll take some time. Don’t rush me when you don’t even have the points yet.”

The old man, a frequent sight for him lately, was all smiles.

Although he hadn’t secured as high a percentage in their contract as he’d wanted, the entry tickets themselves cost almost nothing to produce. Even a 10% share translated into a hefty profit that was fattening his wallet nicely.

Besides, what mattered more to the old man than ticket sales was the fact that, because of them, nearly every player on Earth was now visiting his Point Dungeon.

Even players who didn’t buy tickets would come looking for a famous Point Dungeon with high-quality goods and event discounts. As for those who did buy tickets, once he offered a small discount with the purchase, most of them happily did all their prep work here before heading to Sand Castle.

Profit aside, the mere fact that the dungeon’s reputation was soaring was an enormous gain for the old man.

How could he possibly refuse a request from Kim Buja, a mere human?

“I’ll get the points somehow. You just focus on making the item right.”

“Don’t worry. I go check on it once a day.”

It was an investment for a distant future—a showdown with the Demon King.

The item was so incredible that even 2.4 million points, worth 4.8 million inside this place, weren’t enough to buy it. Yet the old man was willing to craft it without a deposit, a testament to his trust in Kim Buja.

“If you finish it and I still haven’t gathered all the points, I’m guessing you won’t let me pay in installments?”

“Heh heh. You can pay with your life.”

Of course, that trust was purely business, so skipping out on the bill was not an option.

The old man might be kind, but the strength he had displayed at their first meeting was seared into his memory.

If the dungeon had grown, the old man would have only grown stronger, not weaker.

“I’ll risk my life to earn it, so stop saying such scary things.”

He put on a brave face as he took the earrings the old man held out.

[Heavenly Earrings]

▶ Grade: Legendary

▶ Level: ★★★★★★★★★

▶ Equip Requirement: Point Dungeon VVIP

▶ Defense +150

▶ Magic +400

▶ Holy Power +500

▶ Attack Power +15% against Dark-attribute enemies

▶ Defense +15% against Dark-attribute attacks

▶ Can use “Heavenly Song” once every 24 hours

→ Drives out all darkness within a 1.2-mile radius. For 3 minutes, the holy song of angels increases all damage dealt to “Dark-attribute” enemies by 200%, reduces all damage received from them by 200%, and increases all stats by 50%.

Two million points for a single pair of earrings.

His hands trembled as he forced himself to put them on, and a refreshing sensation washed over his entire body.

The stats were ten times higher than those of the “Earrings of the World Tree” he had been wearing, and the three special abilities would be overwhelmingly effective against the Demon King.

It was the same Legendary grade, but this was clearly the performance of a 9-star Legendary item exclusive to Point Dungeon VVIPs.

His only regret was that he couldn’t make use of one of its most amazing options.

’With zero Holy Power, am I just going to get one-shot by the Demon King?’

He had thought Holy Power was useless, but now that the time to fight the Demon King was approaching, he was starting to regret it.

Still, what could he do?

He would have to go to the continent later and find a way to fix it.

Right now, that wasn’t what was important.

’Let’s go blow off some steam on something similar.’

A brand-new item.

And an 8-star Legendary dungeon.

He set off to test the effects of a 4-million-point item.

* * *