Wren Lux finished the rest of her steamed egg, wiped her hands, and hurried over to the sofa to sit down, ready to carefully study how to publish her instance.
Since all the prerequisites had been met, she figured publishing it should be a breeze.
But in reality, actually getting it online…
involved quite a few steps.
“Public?
Specified?
What does this mean?” “Roleplay instances can use memory wiping as a clearance condition?” “I can even designate an offline location for the instance and its entrance?” “…” Wren stared at the explanatory document popping up on the publishing page, feeling a bit of a headache coming on…
but she patiently read through it anyway.
In truth, even the final step of publishing an instance required a lot of consideration.
First of all, custom instances weren’t like system instances.
While some system instances had entry requirements, they generally didn’t employ double standards.
Custom instances, however, could be kept private—meaning only specified players were allowed to enter.
These were known as specified instances.
Furthermore, since the Resident Evil instance Wren had created was a pure roleplay instance, the system would try to vary it as much as possible without deviating from the original flow to ensure a fresh player experience.
But the overall progression was still rigidly fixed; no matter how it changed, the variations were limited.
This meant that if someone cleared the instance and selflessly shared a walkthrough, any player with decent psychological fortitude could clear Resident Evil.
This obviously didn’t align with the Constructor’s interests.
Therefore, for roleplay instances with limited variations, Constructors could add “forget all key instance content” as a clearance restriction, ensuring that everyone who entered would experience it completely blind.
This effectively maintained the instance’s uniqueness.
Finally, designating an offline location for the instance and its entrance was even simpler.
It just meant placing the instance and its portal at a specific physical location in the real world.
The chosen location would seemingly undergo a certain degree of mutation, but the final clearance rewards would be better.
This was also how many system instances operated; basically, the entrances to high-difficulty system instances were all located offline.
However, once an offline entrance was designated, the daily quota for online entries…
would be restricted.
So, Wren immediately rejected the idea of placing Resident Evil offline.
As for whether to make it a specified instance, that was an even easier choice…
Wren didn’t even have a single friend, so it had to be a public instance.
The real dilemma was whether to add the “forget all key instance content” restriction.
It left Wren feeling a bit conflicted…
She stared at the option for a long time, her finger hovering over the screen, hesitating to tap it.
Truth be told, she kind of wanted to add the restriction.
After all, if someone wrote a complete walkthrough, clearing the instance would just become a matter of memorizing the answers.
Thinking about this made Wren a little annoyed, and her mischievous side began to grow like wild weeds.
‘I had to walk through the rain when I cleared it, and you guys want to use an umbrella?
Don’t even think about it…’ ‘I’m going to tear your umbrellas to shreds…’ But considering this was her first instance, and she was publishing it using a loan—a Survival Point loan from the government, no less…
Wren was genuinely worried that once the instance went online, people would see the memory wipe condition and assume her instance was just like all the other trashy custom instances…
and be too scared to enter.
She had heard that many custom instances actually used this mechanic to scam people, with some Constructors relying entirely on it to fleece players.
Although Wren had no such intentions, others wouldn’t know that.
If the instance went online and she couldn’t even earn back the loaned Survival Points, it would be incredibly embarrassing.
“Forget it.” Wren pondered for a moment and gently shook her head.
Her long black hair was tied in a loose ponytail, and with that shake, a few stray strands slipped down past her ear, resting against her cheek.
She tucked the loose hair behind her ear and then deselected the “forget all key instance content” clearance restriction.
Soon, Wren finished filling out all the information and officially submitted the instance publishing application.
[Instance information submitted] [System is performing final structural scan…] Wren leaned back in her chair and waited patiently.
A few seconds later, new prompts refreshed on the screen.
[Detected that this instance is a fixed-progression roleplay instance] [For roleplay instances, the first clearance grants full rewards.
Subsequent clearance rewards will gradually decrease.
No rewards will be granted after three clearances.] [Detected that the instance progression has a clear optimal solution] [If players obtain complete instance information, the estimated clearance rate will significantly increase] [Detected that the instance has not enabled the “Clearance Memory Wipe Mechanic”] [To ensure the long-term fairness of the instance, the system will automatically apply a “blurring process” to players’ clearance memories] [Processing details are as follows:] [Players will generally retain their clearance memories after clearing the instance] [However, specific key progressions, event triggers, puzzle details, and similar content will be automatically blurred] [This mechanic will not affect the player’s personal experience and is solely used to maintain the fairness of the instance challenge] […] “Well, you can’t blame me for this.” Wren chuckled as she looked at the latest prompts.
It seemed that for roleplay instances with an optimal solution, even if the Constructor didn’t add restrictions, the system would still intervene to ensure fairness.
Just then, the final system prompt popped up.
[Instance evaluation complete] [Publish online?] Wren casually pressed confirm.
…
After the world was digitized and gamified, many people were forced to change their way of life.
Everyone went through a painful process of accepting reality.
But for Wren, this wasn’t an issue.
She was an outsider, and she had the original owner’s memories to help her.
This allowed her to completely skip the painful adjustment period…
though, of course, the physical adjustment period didn’t count.
However, this wasn’t entirely beneficial; there were downsides too.
For example, before crossing over, Wren was used to the constant bombardment of the short-video era.
Because of this, it never even occurred to her that in this digitized world, everyone’s system interface contained an entrance that was practically impossible to ignore.
That was the forum entrance.
It was a built-in communication community provided by the system, with each country having its own independent network.
The domestic forum had a very simple structure.
At the top were several permanent boards, such as the Domestic Instance Zone, Overseas Instance Zone, Trading Zone, and Intelligence Zone.
There was also one place that was always bustling—the General Discussion Zone.
Every day, a massive number of posts refreshed here.
Some people would post complaints the second they got out of an instance.
Others shared items they had just bought.
Some just came to chat out of pure boredom.
But among all the topics, the most closely followed was always instance-related intelligence.
After all, instances were now the most important resource in the world.
The appearance of new instances, the discovery of new mechanics, the clearing of new high-rank instances…
all of these would spark significant heated discussions on the forum.
At this moment, the system forum’s General Discussion Zone was as lively as ever, constantly refreshing with new posts.
Various pieces of information mingled together, with new discussions popping up almost every few seconds.
[Location Chenjing: Is the Coordination Bureau preparing to open up the offline S-rank instance in the West City New District?] [Has anyone been in the A-rank instance [Ash Station]?
How exactly do you trigger that broadcast mechanic inside?] [Has anyone counted the number of newly generated system instances in the past month?
It feels like there are noticeably more.] [Does the second floor of the B-rank instance [Deep Sea Reservoir] have a guaranteed death mechanic?
Need confirmation!] [Is it true that someone is selling an A-rank instance item in the Trading Zone recently?
The price is outrageous!] These posts were constantly bumped to the top, only to be quickly pushed down by newer ones.
People were discussing instance mechanics.
People were analyzing the Coordination Bureau’s recent movements.
There were even people specifically tallying newly appeared instance entrances across various regions.
The entire forum was like a giant intelligence market.
All sorts of information flowed continuously here.
Among all the posts, the most popular one left the rest in the dust, pinned right at the very top of the forum.
The view count for this post had already broken into the seven digits.
The title was simple: [S-Rank Instance “Fog City Corridor” — Cleared!] And the original poster was a rather famous ID on the forum.
Zhao Heng.
Next to his ID hung an eye-catching verified tag: [Core Member of the Longsword Guild].
On the forum, Zhao Heng was considered a star-level top player.
This wasn’t just because of his strength, but also because of his flamboyant personality.
He loved to personally jump into threads and shoot the breeze with ordinary players.
It was worth noting that most players capable of clearing high-difficulty instances usually put on airs and rarely showed up on the forums.
Every era and every world had its own “heavenly palace.” This game world was no exception.
To the vast majority of ordinary people still struggling in C-rank instances, Zhao Heng was that “heavenly palace.” So, it was no surprise at all that he was popular.
The content of Zhao Heng’s post wasn’t long, but his wording was incredibly high-profile.
[Cleared the S-rank instance “Fog City Corridor” and figured out all the mechanics.
Honestly, the difficulty of an S-rank instance is much lower than expected.
You could even call it easy.
I’ll put together a complete walkthrough when I have time later.
Anyone interested is welcome to join the Longsword Guild.] Below the post, a massive number of players flooded in to congratulate him.
“Holy shit, he actually cleared it?” “An S-rank instance!” “Brother Zhao is a beast!” “Another S-rank clearance record for the country.” “The prestige on this is off the charts.” Of course, a place like a forum never lacked sarcastic trolls.
Soon, a different kind of voice popped up.
However, these replies were quickly drowned out by even more discussions.
After all—clearing an S-rank instance was proof enough of one’s strength.
Zhao Heng seemed to really enjoy the attention.
He even added another comment to the post: “S-rank instances are indeed a bit complex, but nowhere near as exaggerated as everyone imagines.
It’s honestly quite easy.
S-rank instances can’t challenge me anymore.
Next, I’m going to challenge an SS-rank instance.
Wait for my good news.” As soon as this sentence came out, the thread was instantly flooded with another wave of “Brother Zhao is a beast.” Although Zhao Heng spoke about it casually, it had been four years since the world was gamified.
Everyone and their mother knew what an S-rank instance meant.
That was a top-tier instance.
Perhaps it was nothing to the Strategy Group or to Zhao Heng.
But the vast majority of ordinary people hadn’t even cleared a single A-rank instance yet.
Let alone an S-rank.
While everyone was still chatting idly.
A new post quietly appeared on the forum.
The title of this post was very ordinary.
[Did anyone see this while browsing the instance database?] At first, almost no one clicked on it.
But soon, some people with too much time on their hands wandered in and saw what the original poster had written: “I was just refreshing the list in the instance database, and I think I saw a custom instance with an S-rank rating.” The thread fell silent for a few seconds.
Then, someone replied.
“You saw wrong.” “Since when do custom instances have S-ranks?” “It’s probably a system instance.” “…” All the replies said the original poster was mistaken.
But the original poster quickly replied again, stating with absolute certainty that it wasn’t a system instance.
The name was [Resident Evil], and the Constructor’s name was clearly written on it.
Once the original poster sent this message, someone finally took it seriously.
“Where’s the screenshot?” “Pics or it didn’t happen.” The original poster disappeared.
Just as the others thought it was bait.
A minute later, the original poster reappeared.
This time, they posted a screenshot.
In the screenshot, the basic information of the instance was clearly written— [Instance Name: Resident Evil] [Instance Rank: S] [Instance Type: Horror/Survival/Puzzle] [Constructor: Wren Lux] Less than ten minutes after this screenshot was posted.
…the thread exploded!
“???” “Wait.” “Is this real?” “An S-rank custom instance?” “Bro, did you photoshop this?” “I just went to check the instance database…” “It looks like it’s actually there.” The next second, a new reply refreshed—”Holy shit?????”