Chapter 212: Extra- Hell’s Red Envelope Team (Part 3)
Translated by Karai of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
Editor: Addis
“Send, send, send!”
“Why not send it? Thanks, boss!”
“Damn, Apple, you died again. Hurry up and send the next one.”
[???]
[Why do I feel like they’re all so happy sending red envelopes?]
[I’ve been watching for so long, and all I see is money flying in front of me.]
[Listening to ScarletFriut, it seems Bitter Melon really never sent any red envelopes.]
[If his equipment sends a red envelope too??? Then this team can forget about completing the tenth level.]
In the end, Bitter Melon got his chance and sent a red envelope in the team. The professionals who were good at controlling and tanky enough were assigned to control and delay time. After Bitter Melon finished testing, the leaders quickly discussed the best strategy. The types of dungeons could only be determined in general terms. oo and CloudTraveller, along with others, summarized the dungeon types and briefly explained the methods to the rest of the team.
The monster dungeons could be quickly cleared by fighting monsters, but for tanky players and healers, fighting monsters was also a challenge. Dungeons that could be solved quickly were tackled immediately, while those that couldn’t were left for other players to deal with. Once a team of 2 or 3 players was formed with guaranteed success, they would focus on stalling time based on the existing progress. The biggest challenge, however, was in the first three boss encounters, where fragile players had to survive for 10 seconds, and it all came down to whether the boss would target the tanky warrior.
CloudTraveller said, “The margin for error is low. It’s really a gamble on luck. If Bitter Melon gets picked earlier, it would benefit us more.”
“Yes, but if Bitter Melon, like last time, gets picked on the ninth turn, the difficulty will increase for us later,” Yu Zhen explained. “The tenth level boss isn’t as easy as it’s described on the forum. If we get stuck at seven deaths, we can still manage, but if we hit seven deaths, even if we clear the dungeons, we might not be able to clear the boss.”
oo said, “We just need to reduce the number of deaths.”
[Control is a good strategy.]
[Which part isn’t about individual ability? You see, the pros also had to die a few times to get the hang of it, and most of the time, it’s the red envelope mechanic that forces it. The pressure for fragile players to survive for 10 seconds isn’t any smaller than solving the dungeons. Tanks and healers also have to control the boss, delay time, and make sure they don’t die. The pressure is just as great.]
[This isn’t something any regular team can handle.]
[Exactly. Look at the normal S-level difficulty on the forum. Most of those are handled by the pros, right? There’s also a bit of luck involved.]
[Control I understand, but how do you reduce the number of deaths? Is there any way to reduce the deaths of players?]
[I’m curious too.]
CloudTraveller asked, “How can we reduce it?”
“How about something more exciting?” Momo said casually. “We’ve all died about seven or eight times, and our proficiency has gone up. Now, we can generally hold out for 10 seconds against the boss, so why don’t we start counting from now? Based on the professions, the dps holds for 10 seconds, while the warrior and healer are in charge of stalling. The warrior stalls for 30-50 seconds, the healer stalls for 10 seconds. On top of that, instead of the original 5000 gold for each death, we’ll change it to 3000 gold per death.”
He paused, then changed the rule. “But, let’s add an accumulative value.”
“For example, add 500 gold for each death? It will keep accumulating with no limit. How about that?”
[?????]
[What kind of team can afford this?!]
[They’re really going all in!]
[Wait, no cap? If they don’t clear it in two days, wouldn’t that make the pressure even higher?]
[It used to be capped at 5000 gold, but now there’s no cap. The more they die, the more they pay.]
This outrageous suggestion caused a moment of silence in the team, but it was quickly met with unanimous approval.
“Come on!”
“I want to see who’s really bad.”
“Bring it on, the one who gives the biggest red envelope gets to buy a meal in the main city after we’re done.”
“Can we get the experience boost seats? I still want the cultivation boost seats.”
“20 people, top-tier cultivation boost seats, anyone in?”
“Fuck! Definitely coming. It’s settled—whoever gives the most red envelopes gets to open a dungeon and get the cultivation seats.”
[Wait, are these people really getting crazy with the red envelopes?]
[Not only are they sending red envelopes, now they’re even playing the dungeon and eating at the same time?]
[The big shots don’t care about the red envelope money, right? Now they’re more focused on clearing the dungeon?]
[Wait, are they really turning the red envelope team into a competition?]
[??? Wait, do they have time to keep track of all this? Clearing dungeons is exhausting enough, and they have to remember how many times people died and how many seconds they lasted?]
Originally, 5k was changed to 3k, which gave them four chances to mess up. This meant that everyone had four opportunities for error before accumulating 5000, after which they would surpass the original red envelope baseline. For them, giving red envelopes was a small matter, but the number of times and amounts were important. By the time they settled up, it would be clear who had died the most…
Who was bad? It would be obvious.
That was really embarrassing.
In fact, the internal competition actually worked, and under the control of the human calculator Momo, it became extremely intense.
Worried about the number of times or seconds? Not an issue. oo could calculate the moment the boss named someone, determining how many seconds they needed to last and how many times they had died. His voice was clear enough to inform the team, so by the time the new round of the dungeon started, all the players in the group were facing pressure more terrifying than the red envelope one.
The viewers saw this group of unorthodox players suddenly become serious in an instant. The use of skills, the calculation of cooldowns… Under Momo’s timely reporting of seconds, everything became highly organized. The tense atmosphere spread quickly both inside and outside the game.
“The number of deaths has exceeded 7 times, we can’t continue this round, restart.”
“5 deaths, but not to Bitter Melon yet.”
“Control the skill time, save the quest skill for later, watch the potion cooldown.”
There was no more joking around in the team. The boss pointed out four people in a row, but no one died. It felt like all the previous deaths and mistakes had been mere illusions.
[Wait? Did they finally wake up?]
[Now I’m starting to feel nervous.]
[Suddenly, I’m excited to see who makes the mistake!]
[There should be mistakes, the boss sometimes targets repeatedly. Let’s see who gets unlucky!]
[Does this matter? The important thing is, are they finally taking the game seriously?]
Under the immense pressure, the efficiency in clearing the dungeons immediately increased.
Finally, during the fifth round restart, the team managed to pair up quickly and achieved a stable formation without any further deaths.
The viewers in the livestream were immediately drawn in. Once two or three players in the team gathered, it became much harder for the boss to single out a player. This group of players was different when they got serious. The viewers in the livestream were still adjusting, but the seriousness didn’t last long. After the gathering, the group returned to their usual antics.
The scene quickly turned chaotic, and the tense atmosphere in the voice channel dispersed in an instant.
“Watermelon, why are all your attacks missing?!”
“What can three fragile players do when we gather? Buy one, get two free?”
“Stop talking, the two of us are healing while fighting monsters. The monster’s defense is absurd, why am I only doing 60 damage?”
“Help, why am I with Bitter Melon, this boss is using an all-screen attack!!”
When the boss’s ultimate skill killed three DPS players, the viewers in the livestream couldn’t even manage to form a decent response to the chaos.
[???]
[I got too excited too early!]
[I can’t believe how chaotic the 100-player challenge must have been.]
[I feel so sorry for my dream healer, I watched him and ScarletFruit fight monsters for 15 minutes and still hadn’t killed them.]
[That room for Bitter Melon was too funny, right?]
[One move killed three, the more people, the faster they die?]
But after getting through that initial wave of pressure, the team’s cooperation finally shone through.
This small team that managed to get through the tenth stage demonstrated their well-practiced coordination and, by 11 PM that night, finally defeated the tenth stage boss. However, the viewers in the livestream were too exhausted to make more comments. It felt like the chaotic noises from that team still echoed in their ears, and watching the livestream had left them mentally drained. Even the part where they opened their treasure chests seemed a little too confusing to follow.
[Suddenly I remember, I came here to ship a couple.]
[Which couple? There are so many ships here!]
[Wait? Where’s Momo?]
[He just logged off.]
[I didn’t come here to watch the livestream. I’ve been watching the challenge all day. I just wanted to ship a couple!]
[What couple? It’s already after work hours.]
Su Mo finally finished the quest challenge that had lasted nearly half a month. He hadn’t had time to open the treasure chests yet, as his attention was entirely caught by a message notification. The message came from Yu Zhen’s smart robot, because a package addressed to him had arrived.
In the past two years, as he approached graduation and his work at the research institute stabilized, it became more convenient for him to come and go, so he frequently stayed at Yu Zhen’s place.
Their relationship had become public last year. The first person to meet Su Mo was Yu Zhen’s uncle, Jiang Yu. Su Mo had heard many stories from Yu Zhen about his childhood, and he had a deep impression of this mercenary group leader uncle, thinking of him as a rather tough person. However, when they actually met, Su Mo realized that the uncle’s appearance was much gentler than he had imagined.
Last year, Yu Zhen’s father went on a business trip to another star system. After his return, Su Mo followed Yu Zhen to visit the Yu family.
He met the beautiful woman who had briefly seen him in the hospital when he was ill, as well as Yu Zhen’s somewhat strict father. Both of them were naturally kind to him, and when they had a meal at Yu Zhen’s home, there were no issues or difficulties, as if it was just a normal family dinner with no awkward changes. The only difference was that after the meal, he received a terminal friend request from Yu Zhen’s parents, and occasionally, during his free time, he would go to the Yu family to visit.
The package was tightly wrapped, with only the recipient’s information visible, while all other details were completely confidential.
Su Mo had secretly taken the package from the robot, unwrapped it, and then mysteriously entered the bedroom.
After Yu Zhen finished his shower, he came out and saw Su Mo sitting on the bed with his back to him. Su Mo’s pajamas were loose and casual, and it seemed like he was fiddling with something in his hands. “Finish up and get some rest. Didn’t we say we’d go to the parts factory tomorrow? Get some sleep,” Yu Zhen said.
He spoke, but when he noticed that Su Mo didn’t respond, still facing away from him, he tiptoed closer.
Su Mo was intently examining a mysterious tutorial he had gotten from someone on his terminal. When Yu Zhen suddenly embraced him, the light object in Su Mo’s hands fell onto the soft blanket.
Yu Zhen’s gaze paused for a moment, shifting from the object on the blanket to Su Mo’s terminal, his eyes darkening slightly.
“Want to give it a try?”
The two had been in a relationship for over two years, and Yu Zhen had always been considerate of Su Mo’s body, never pushing things further.
Occasionally, they would have close moments, but it always ended up being resolved in the bathroom.
Su Mo handed him a tutorial, then bent down to grab two or three items from the drawer at the bedside. Some were new, while others had been in the drawer for an unknown amount of time. As he pulled them out, a few condoms fell to the floor.
Yu Zhen asked, “How long have you had these?”
Su Mo replied, “For a while. I researched it, and these have the best user experience.”
Yu Zhen raised an eyebrow, “Researched?”
“I looked it up online.” Su Mo bent down to grab more items, exposing his fair waist beneath his loose pajamas. “And this one…”
Before he could finish speaking, Yu Zhen’s large hand slipped around his waist, pulling him into an embrace.
In a blur of motion, Su Mo found himself pinned to the bed, with those strange toys scattered all over the bed as they fell from the blanket.
Amid the chaos, a hand reached out to pick up a condom.
***
In the middle of the night, someone fell asleep on their side, and clear marks were visible on their pale back. The man leaned contentedly against the side of his neck, smelling the faint scent of peppermint body wash on the person in his arms, and his fingers moved slightly to delete some misleading tutorials from the terminal.
