“What happened before?”
Zhang Yang suppressed the instinct to whip out a knife and slash at him.
No real human could resist cutting down a Red Name standing this close to her.
But she still managed to hold back.
Keeping her expression calm, she feigned confusion.
“Something that happened before? What are you talking about?”
Though the tens of millions of Visitors from Beyond included men and women, young and old, they were all, in practice, using the same identity, and had all experienced more or less the same things.
Players called these “Quests.”
An NPC on her Homestead Plot was asking whether she remembered what had happened before.
Wasn’t that treating her like a player and setting off a story sequence?
She must have triggered a Homestead Quest.
Zhang Yang tried to recall the human specimens she’d been closely observing and studying.
One of them had indeed invited her to team up and fight the minor enemies in a Homestead Quest.
Thinking of that, she felt at ease.
She had reached two conclusions:
First, Homestead Quests weren’t difficult.
Second, Red Name Mobs weren’t hard to beat either.
If they were difficult, the requirements to take on the Quest would be very high.
The players she’d been observing and studying couldn’t all have Homesteads, after all.
They really were such reassuringly awful players.
Zhang Yang steadied herself, forcing herself to ignore the temptation of the Red Name.
“Have we met before?”
She tossed out a conversational opener to fish for information.
Then she stared with keen interest at the other person’s Red Name, which had remained unchanged all this time.
Amid the terrifyingly dense peals of thunder, Mysterious Rainy Night Passerby A regarded Zhang Yang with a subtly skeptical gaze, clearly not believing a single word she said.
Yet everything he said caught Zhang Yang by surprise: “We’ve done far more than just meet, Your Highness—”
Zhang Yang tilted her head.
“Your Highness?”
In her memory, the only people connected to the words “Your Highness” were the two human Players she had observed and learned from.
One was named Taro Boba Coconut Milk Highness, and the other was called Call Me Crown Prince Highness.
To tell these two samples apart, Zhang Yang simply used the first two characters of their names.
She had even curiously asked the two observation samples:
“Why are you both called something-or-other Highness? Is this what it’s like to be part of a big family?”
Mm-hmm, yes, exactly.
Although we’re both Highnesses, I’m a Highness from the Milk Tea Faction, while that person you mentioned is a Highness from the Feudal Remnants Faction.
It’s like how they’re both rocks, but one is called a mountain rock when it’s up on the mountain, and the other is called a foothill rock when it’s down below.
The explanation was plain and easy to understand.
Zhang Yang quietly recorded it in her observation journal.
Now she, too, had become a “Your Highness.”
She just didn’t know which faction’s Highness he was.
“I’m—” Seeing that Zhang Yang’s reaction didn’t seem feigned, the Mysterious Rainy Night Passerby A felt his anxiety ease a little.
But as soon as he began speaking, he paused suspiciously for a few moments before continuing, “I’m the younger brother of the Military Commandant in your household. I’ve had the honor of seeing Your Highness a few times while accompanying my elder brother.”
Zhang Yang: “…”
Her dazed, bewildered eyes said it all:
What on earth is this person babbling about?
“Your Highness!”
“Don’t rush. Take your time. I’m listening.”
For starters, he could explain who the Military Commandant was.
This was the pain of being an NPC.
No matter how hard she tried to imitate the human players she observed, learning their mannerisms and behavior and trying to follow their example in every way, as an NPC she couldn’t take part in the players’ main storyline.
All she could do was piece things together from here and there, assembling the general plot from the words scattered across countless observations.
She even had to remember what emotional reactions she was supposed to have while going through these quests, so she wouldn’t give herself away.
When it came to Homestead side quests, she was completely in the dark.
She’d gathered far too little information.
He spoke in great detail, and Zhang Yang listened intently.
Although she couldn’t understand eight out of every ten sentences, she could use the system to record the conversation and review it later when she had time.
The mysterious rainy-night passerby introduced himself as Shen Zhi.
The moment he finished, the scarlet words “Mysterious Rainy Night Passerby A” above his head changed to the scarlet characters for “Shen Zhi.”
Shen Zhi’s elder brother served as Military Commandant at the Princess’s residence and was one of her trusted retainers.
When chaos broke out and rebel forces laid siege to them, Shen Zhi’s brother led troops to escort the Princess and the residence’s officials to safety.
They ran into enemy troops along the way and were forced to scatter.
Worried about his brother’s safety, Shen Zhi had returned to find out what had become of him and his men.
Every word Shen Zhi said was steeped in worry.
Zhang Yang, however, was completely lost.
Still, she had understood some of it.
“So you’re looking for your brother. Then wait until the rain stops and it’s light out before you go looking. In a thunderstorm like this, it’s easy to get struck by lightning.”
Shen Zhi seemed not to have expected Zhang Yang to react that way.
He shook his head gravely.
“I can’t leave Your Highness unattended.”
Zhang Yang: “…”
Oh, right.
Her role in this quest was “Your Highness.”
And from the looks of it, she was a princess from some feudal dynasty.
Zhang Yang replied with complete nonchalance, “Then don’t.”
But Shen Zhi stubbornly refused.
“Though I may be a spoiled wastrel in my everyday life, I still know what matters most and what can wait. Right now, rebel troops are everywhere, hunting down Your Highness. If my elder brother found out I’d abandoned you and failed to keep you safe, how could he ever forgive me?” Shen Zhi knelt on one knee, striking a pose of submission and fealty.
“Shen Zhi, third son of the Shen Family, is at Your Highness’s command. I would brave fire and water without hesitation!”
Zhang Yang stared at the red name above Shen Zhi’s head and fell into thought.
Should she take this quest or not?
Should she kill Shen Zhi or not?
Shen Zhi could clearly feel Zhang Yang’s brazen gaze roaming over him, but he gritted his teeth and endured it, keeping his expression flawless.
Just then, Zhang Yang’s voice came from above him.
“There’s something I don’t understand. You say you’re going to protect me for your brother’s sake? Then why, when you saw me being dismembered by five horses just now, didn’t you show the slightest concern or urgency? Do you expect me to believe you?”
As she finished speaking, a chill crept toward him.
A snow-white blade pressed against his neck.
Zhang Yang’s voice was calm and impatient.
“Answer me.”
From the corner of his eye, Shen Zhi saw his reflection in the blade.
Clearly, a botched explanation would cost him his head.
Shen Zhi swallowed.
“The empire is on the verge of collapse. If Your Highness had truly died here, all the old grievances and debts would have been wiped clean. My elder brother would naturally be free of his obligation to you and could retreat to our ancestral home with his family.”
But who could have guessed she wasn’t quite dead?
She’d been hacked through all four limbs with such force, then hanged to death.
And yet not only had she survived, they’d even sewn her corpse back together.
What was done was done.
He had no other choice.
If he let her, with her memories gone, run around heedlessly here, and she ran into the rebel army, things would get even more complicated.
Shen Zhi exhaled heavily.
“Your Highness has every reason not to trust me, but your situation is far more dangerous than you realize. Why not trust me just this once?”
Zhang Yang watched suspiciously as his name changed back to yellow.
Wait, was this man a fence-sitter?
His allegiance kept flipping back and forth.
She lowered the long saber in her hand and chose to let him stay for now.
“I’ll trust you this once. If you ever harbor murderous intent toward me again, you won’t be keeping that head on your shoulders.”
Shen Zhi covered the spot on his neck where the blade had just rested.
His palm came away slick with warm blood.
He clenched his fist tighter.
Turning his head, Zhang Yang pulled a notebook from who knew where.
She scribbled down a few hurried words.
“Shen Zhi, an NPC with a name…”
There were tens of millions of players, and even more NPCs.
Game developers naturally wouldn’t bother naming every single NPC.
Many were given only generic labels, such as a thug from this place, a hoodlum from that place, a hired muscle from somewhere else, a zombie from here, or a monster from there.
These were all minor mobs that players killed over and over, only for them to respawn again and again.
Even NPCs within the players’ area of activity were often just “that old lady from this house,” “that old man from that house,” or “so-and-so’s kid”…
Names were rare among NPCs.
Shen Zhi had a name.
That usually meant the other person was a “character,” someone who might be tied to other quests.
Killing an NPC like that could cause a bug that made it impossible to progress the quest.
Players could still log out and repair the client, then wait for the NPC to respawn.
She couldn’t.
“…Keep him around for now. Kill him once we’re done with him.”