“Hey, Teng Teng, can you even see the road ahead?” Yaya asked, noticing the shorty buried in the crowd.

Teng Teng replied breezily, “Doesn’t matter. I’ve got you and Hua Hua clearing the way.”

Yaya’s eyes widened. “Ehh?! You woman, you’re using me as a shield?!”

Teng Teng said confidently, “Yup, it’s not exploitation either, it’s called making efficient use of resources.”

Yaya pouted. “That’s even worse!”

“Oh, then go complain to the developers, and while you’re at it, tell them to give me half your boobies, thanks.” As she spoke, Teng Teng glanced casually at Yaya’s absurdly exaggerated character model. She told herself she wasn’t jealous, but still couldn’t help clicking her tongue.

It wasn’t envy or spite, nor nitpicking for its own sake, just a sincere, instinctive protest in the name of realism. There was no way that was physically possible!

This game is too unrealistic, okay?!

Thinking about her own in-game character, Teng Teng, who normally didn’t care much about such things, couldn’t help biting down on the tapioca pearls in her mouth in mild frustration.

Shame, Yaya didn’t sense her mood at all as she marched through the crowd with a wide grin on her face.

“Forget it then... hehe, I’m actually pretty happy with my character. She feels totally different from me in real life.”

“Tsk. Borderline cam-girl.”

“Huh?! You’re so mean!”

Not understanding their teasing banter, Hua Hua looked back nervously at her boss, Miss Teng Teng, thinking she was upset because she couldn’t see ahead.

“Miss Teng Teng... why don’t you, um, sit on my shoulders? Then you could see everything.”

Just picturing that scene made Teng Teng’s eyebrow twitch violently. “Ugh!”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Yaya burst into laughter, clutching her stomach until it hurt at Teng Teng’s mortified expression, like she’d just taken an arrow straight to the heart.

Perplexed by Yaya’s over-the-top reaction, Hua Hua thought she had said something wrong and looked anxiously at Teng Teng. “... Miss Teng Teng?”

“So... So noisy!” With a loud slurp, Teng Teng drained her milk tea, turning her head away stubbornly. “I’m fine down here... the air’s better.”

Yaya jumped suddenly. “Hahahahaha, hey! Why’d you hit me?!”

Flustered and angry, Teng Teng swung her little clenched fist at Yaya again. “That’s for laughing at me!”

The playful scuffle on the street was just a tiny ripple amid the human tide, soon drowned in the noise and bustle.

Not only the NPCs but also the players were all streaming toward the plaza, the beating heart of the celebration.

Standing at the edge of the crowd, Night Ten was scanning the faces when Jiang Xuezhou poked him from the side. “Hey, what are you looking for?”

“Nothing, nothing! Thought I heard a familiar voice,” Night Ten said, scratching his head and turning away from the sea of people.

Maybe it was just his imagination.

Sometimes having sharp perception wasn’t a blessing. Walking down the street, he often felt like someone behind him was whispering about how handsome he was.

Seeing his distracted look, Jiang Xuezhou reminded him sternly, “Don’t forget your mission! You’re my bodyguard right now, you should be watching me. If something happens to me...”

“How could it?” Night Ten laughed. “This is Dawn City. There’re at least a dozen drones up there with wide-angle cameras buzzing around. Anyone trying to start trouble would be taken down in seconds.”

Of course he hadn’t forgotten his task. During the Academy Researcher’s visit, his job was to serve as her guide and bodyguard, while secretly gathering intelligence about the Academy.

Lately the New Alliance was planning to establish a special administrative zone somewhere under the Scientific Committee’s jurisdiction near Ice Sea City, and the administrator had repeatedly hinted that he should chat with her about it and see if she would leak anything useful.

Still, he had to admit, the woman was ridiculously jumpy. She hadn’t panicked while exploring ancient ruins, yet now that they were in the safest part of the city, she was acting paranoid.

“But what if something does happen?!” Jiang Xuezhou’s cheeks flushed as she argued. “Cameras only help after the fact! I’m a researcher from the Academy, you know how many people out there covet our equipment? Can you please take your job a little more seriously and take care of me properly?”

“Alright, alright, Miss Esteemed Researcher...” Night Ten looked helpless. “So, where to next?”

Jiang Xuezhou thought for a moment, then spoke quietly. “Let’s go to the plaza first... there’s a medal ceremony you have to attend, right?”

“Oh, that.” Night Ten blinked, then grinned. “No need, I can have one of my buddies pick it up for me.”

The shiny electronic medals had already been distributed when the expansion update wrapped up.

Though, as tradition went, there would also be a formal in-game ceremony where Administrator Dawn personally awarded physical medals to outstanding players. Attendance wasn’t mandatory, given the number of awardees, no one got much screen time anyway. Most players just let the NPCs mail the medal straight to their coffin... Or to put it in proper terms, the nurturing cabins they came out from.

It was a very considerate system, really.

Night Ten had attended every previous ceremony, but this time, he just couldn’t be bothered. He thought it was better to let the newbies enjoy their moment of glory.

Yet seeing his casual attitude, Jiang Xuezhou’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s unacceptable! You barely made it out of the Hive’s digestive tract alive. How can you give up such a great opportunity to be recognized?”

“Uh, it really wasn’t as dangerous as you think...” Night Ten said awkwardly, scratching his neck. “Anyway, your equipment helped a lot, it worked great. Thanks!”

Jiang Xuezhou’s lips curled into a smug smile. “Hmph. Of course. I’m a genius who became a Researcher before turning 20! Barely anyone in the entire Academy can say the same.”

Seriously?

Night Ten shot her a surprised glance but decided not to pursue the topic, her smirk was growing a little too annoying for his liking. “So you really want to see me go up there and get that medal?”

“Of course!” she said as if it were obvious. “It’s not just your honor, it’s ours!”

Being stared at by those bright, determined eyes made Night Ten’s heartbeat quicken. He quickly looked away. “Alright, alright... I’ll go, okay?”

Tsk! It’s just going on stage to collect a medal, no big deal.

Still, Jiang Xuezhou beamed with satisfaction at his agreement. “That’s better. You should seize these opportunities! Honestly, can’t you show a little ambition? Must I worry about everything for you?”

Night Ten sighed helplessly, “What’s the point?”

“How can it not matter?!” Jiang Xuezhou glared at him, launching into a rapid-fire lecture. “Do you plan to do those life-threatening missions forever? Life is fragile, you know, luck runs out eventually! You should start building up merit now, so you can move into the management track later. Then you won’t have to keep doing all that dangerous, dirty work! Hey, I’m being serious here, would it kill you to listen?”

Night Ten had wanted to explain that he was perfectly happy with his current life, but on second thought, there was no way to explain that to her. He sighed, “Yeah, yeah... you’re right.”

A summer insect couldn’t understand what ice was.

For players, adventure was a reward, and death only meant a three day respawn.

Even if he did somehow make it to upper echelons, he doubted he would ever give up the thrill of the field.

But for NPCs, who only lived once, their fear of death was perfectly understandable.

And Academy people were another breed altogether, part paranoid, part obsessive. Because their components were so expensive, they suffered from chronic persecution complexes, and they had an almost fanatical fixation on KP, GP, and promotions.

In simple terms, they were total overachievers.

It made sense, really. In their world, a low-level D-class personnel was practically cannon fodder. Without climbing up or escaping, there was no true sense of security.

Either flee, or keep climbing, while their mentors barked orders and shoved them headfirst toward an early grave.

Watching Jiang Xuezhou smile proudly, thinking he had finally grown up, Night Ten scratched his head, in confusion.

Wait, had he just been... emotionally lectured by a 2D character?

Man, Brother Light really went all-out designing these NPCs to stop players from slacking off.