Chapter 65: Serene and Peaceful Briver

As a well-known genius within the Administration, Sword Star's status and authority far surpassed those of Zhao Yan and Cotton.

Even Zhao Yan and Cotton knew the inner story of the Silent Town, so how could Sword Star not know?

Yet, even knowing that the probability of bringing this group of newcomers through the instance alive was pitifully slim, he had to grit his teeth and push forward.

Taking advantage of the remaining time before the instance commenced, Sword Star shared intelligence about the Silent Town with everyone.

His voice was loud, making no effort to avoid the three members of the Iron Armor Syndicate in the distance, nor Wu Chang's True Self and the Melancholic Artistic Man on the other side.

"The contamination level of the Silent Town is extremely high. Everyone must act with utmost caution. Once the death toll becomes too high, it is very easy for the instance to slip into a state verging on runaway."

"Even for your own sake, absolutely do not engage in infighting. Trust me, if this instance enters a runaway state, even I may not have a chance to leave alive."

This remark was clearly directed at the three members of the Iron Armor Syndicate.

The three members of the Iron Armor Syndicate looked thoughtful, but offered no response.

Sword Star continued, "The Silent Town places a heavy emphasis on rules. Every player entering the instance is assigned a profession. Check your clothes; you should find a tag or nameplate bearing your profession."

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately inspected their clothing and indeed made a discovery.

Wu Chang found a bronze nameplate pinned to his chest, with the word "Postman" engraved on it.

"During your time surviving in the town, you must fulfill the most basic duties of your profession. If you fail to complete your work for three consecutive days, you will face lethal danger."

"Believe me, never think that your strength is enough to resist the rules."

Wu Chang clicked his tongue. What kind of Silent Town was this? It should have been renamed to Sweatshop.

Failing to meet the KPI for three days resulted in immediate physical layoffs; even ruthless capitalists wouldn't be this merciless.

Seeing the transparent barrier maintaining the safe zone flickering precariously, Sword Star accelerated his pace.

"I don't have enough information about the rest. To clear the Silent Town, everyone must pull together. Based on our respective situations, let's tentatively agree to meet here every day or two to exchange intelligence."

"If anyone gathers clues concerning the missing Count, or discovers a way to enter the Count's Manor, be sure to contact me immediately. My profession is Editor; you can find me at the newspaper office."

No sooner had Sword Star finished speaking than the transparent barrier surrounding them shattered, and the instance officially began.

The instance had already assigned residences and work areas for the players. After briefly exchanging occupational information, the group dispersed.

Upon entering the instance, aside from their identity nameplates, each player was equipped with an extra map marking the various districts of the town.

Wu Chang first commanded his True Self to shake off the others and recalled it, then consulted the map to head toward his assigned post office.

On his way to the post office, he took the opportunity to observe the town.

The town was situated on a massive island; the island was the town, and the town was the island.

The island and the town shared the same name: Bliff.

The timeline of the instance plane roughly corresponded to a heavily modified First Industrial Revolution.

Enormous steamships had already appeared in the world, equipped with post offices and newspaper offices, but electric lights had yet to be invented.

The advent of steamships shortened distances across the world and intensified global trade.

The prevalence of maritime trade breathed new life into many remote islands, leading to the establishment of neat and beautiful towns.

Bliff was one such place.

The urban area on the island was not particularly large, and Wu Chang easily located the post office.

Though called a post office, it was actually only about the size of three or four newsstands. The building's exterior was painted in a vibrant red, making it look like an oversized fire hydrant that remained striking even at night.

The post office door was unlocked, and a push was all it took to enter.

The interior of the post office was divided into two sections: the outer area served as the office space for the postman, while the inner section contained a lounge furnished with a bed.

An employment notice was pasted on the wall by the entrance, stating that due to the suicide of the town's previous postman, a new postman was arriving to take his place following work coordination.

The notice featured a photograph of Wu Chang, but the name column had been smudged with water, presumably to facilitate his use of a pseudonym.

After a moment of thought, he wrote "Sean" beside the notice.

He had used this name during his time at the Moonlight Sanitarium and had grown accustomed to it.

One had to admit that the post office administrator of this town had a genuine fondness for red. Not only was the exterior of the post office blazing red, but red was visible everywhere inside the inner quarters as well.

However, the longer he looked at these splashes of red, the stranger they seemed, until he walked over to his workstation and discovered irregular dark red splatters scattered across the chair and desk.

He picked up a letter opener, scraped a layer of red powder from the tabletop, crushed it, and brought it to his nose to sniff—it smelled of blood.

The substance coating the walls of the room was blood.

And if nothing unexpected, it was the blood of the previous postman.

With such a massive, high-pressure arterial spray covering the place, the notice at the door still managed to call it a suicide.

He could vividly imagine the deceased individual in the notice cutting his own throat while mustering his final breath to frantically splatter blood across every possible surface.

It bore an uncanny resemblance to committing suicide by shooting oneself in the back six times.

In a building serving as a crime scene rivaling a B-grade gore film, an ordinary person wouldn't have been able to endure even a single second.

Fortunately, Wu Chang had already survived two instances, having witnessed hundreds of delusion-afflicted patients rot and mutate, as well as thousands of mountain bandits processed into neat rows of frozen meat.

By comparison, a small mess like a room full of gore was no longer enough to affect his mood.

He fetched a bucket of water, cleaned the chair and desktop, lit an oil lamp, and began reading the newspapers stored inside the post office.

Some of these papers contained local news from Bliff Island, while others were external reports mentioning the island.

The newspaper placed on top was a commendation article.

"Under the leadership of Count Jermaine, Bliff Town has experienced zero public safety incidents for five consecutive years. The King has affirmed Count Jermaine's performance and bestowed upon him the Silver Port Medal of Ogre."

Wu Chang glanced at the blood-smeared walls. Zero public safety incidents for five years—right here?

Just as he was about to resume reading the newspaper, a sudden surge of intuition struck him, making him aware that a gaze was fixed upon him.

He raised his head and saw a massive face pressed directly against the glass window right in front of him.

The entity was staring at him through the glass and raised a fist as if preparing to pound on the window.

Realizing he had been spotted, the figure lowered its hand, pushed the door open, and walked straight inside.

"Are you the new postman?"

Wu Chang asked with a puzzled expression, "And you are?"

The newcomer was a middle-aged man of about forty, standing over two meters tall, with short curly blond hair, a round face, a thick neck, and massive limbs, built as sturdily as a bear.

He glanced at the wall, then said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Sean. I am Marty, the owner of the town's grocery store."

Wu Chang cast a glance at the pitch-black night outside and asked, "Mr. Marty, is there something you need?"

Marty grinned, revealing a row of crooked, yellow-stained teeth, and smiled.

"As a local, I have an obligation to tell you that our Bliff Island is a place that deeply respects rules. Everyone must fulfill their duties promptly and play their part properly."

"We are like gears, driving the island forward together. If a single gear stops turning, it affects all the other gears."

"I hope you possess sufficient professional ethics to take your work seriously, and not be like your predecessor—so arrogant, lazy, foolish, pathetic, and selfish!"

The more Marty spoke, the more agitated he became, nearly roaring by the end.

After the outburst, Marty regained his composure and offered a mild smile.

"Anyway, I hope you work diligently, deliver every single piece of mail properly, and thank you."

Wu Chang stared intently at Marty without offering a response.

Although Marty's emotional delivery of the threat was passionate and full, as a warning, it was far less convincing than the lingering resentment clinging to him.

After all, the owner of that resentment was none other than the previous postman whose blood was splattered all over the room.