Chapter 4: Intensive Skill Training, Including Night Sessions

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Da Chun arrived at the dry dock, which was essentially a lock chamber containing an old cargo ship.

Diving in, he felt an effortless smoothness, as silky as a top-tier graphics card running at full power.

Although Da Chun hadn’t practiced swimming during the public beta, he had seen pro gamers at the internet café diving in to collect sea shells. The resistance they faced was visibly frustrating—an obvious gap in equipment quality. Of course, goggles were crucial. This game was set with such realism that swimming without eye protection caused redness, impaired vision, and even blindness after prolonged exposure.

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have successfully triggered the “Swimming” skill training. Upon accumulating sufficient proficiency, you will master the “Basic Swimming” skill.

Triggered!

This game offered tremendous freedom, allowing players to learn skills independently. Skills were broadly categorized into five types: daily life skills, professional production skills, occupational combat skills, folk skills, and academic skills.

Daily life skills included running, swimming, cooking, climbing, weightlifting, fishing, throwing, and the like—these were the easiest to learn on one’s own.

Professional production skills were mining, gathering, skinning, tailoring, alchemy, forging, gem processing, even animal husbandry and floriculture—the flowers in the florist’s shop were a result of flower cultivation skill.

Occupational combat skills required formal employment to acquire, making self-learning difficult. It was best to find a skill tutor. Knight and doctor professions also had divine arts skills, which couldn’t be learned from tutors alone and required periodic renewal fees.

Folk skills were various strange abilities known by NPCs, encompassing a vast array of talents and expertise. They typically couldn’t be upgraded and required special opportunities to learn.

Academic skills covered laws, archaeology, astronomy, arts, and so on. These could only be acquired by paying for schooling; libraries offered no chance for insight. This was beyond mere player entertainment, but mastering such skills allowed employment at NPC institutions with fixed salaries.

Major cities occasionally hosted competitions in cooking, fishing, athletics, and sports, usually open only to expert-level players and above, offering participation prizes. Winning the top three was as lucrative as hitting the jackpot, hence many players in the public beta focused heavily on skill acquisition.

Because of these competitions, skill level disparities were stark. Skills were divided into six tiers: novice, intermediate, advanced, expert, master, and grandmaster, each tier containing ten levels. Every level gained in daily life and production skills granted additional stamina and carrying capacity, while combat skills also enhanced health, evasion, accuracy, critical hit rate, and resistance to critical hits.

In other words, a player who diligently raised all known daily life and production skills to high levels could gain over a thousand additional points in stamina and carrying capacity. Stamina was the most crucial attribute in this world—not only vital for mining but essential in group battles. What good was a beginner clad in divine armor, impervious to weapons? When pushed and shoved until exhausted, they were nothing.

A thousand points of carrying capacity meant a person could push a fully loaded mining cart with ease. Legendary artifacts like the “Sword in the Stone” required at least a thousand points of carrying capacity just to lift.

…

The awaited moment arrived swiftly:

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have accumulated substantial proficiency and successfully mastered “Basic Swimming” level 1. Achievement reward: Stamina +1, Carrying Capacity +1.

Upon officially learning to swim, a faint skill aura shimmered around Da Chun. His movements in the water became noticeably steadier; his breath-holding capacity lengthened, making it easier to pry open shells underwater. His swimming proficiency soared!

Da Chun recalled what the pro gamers had said: on calm water surfaces, one could only reach Basic level 10. To advance to Intermediate, one had to swim upstream against strong currents; to reach Advanced, one had to brave the complex whirlpools of the open sea. Moreover, skipping levels was impossible—a novice swimmer thrown directly into the whirlpool was bound to perform all the wrong moves, making mastery impossible.

The buoyancy-reducing skill of the diving suit clearly overcame the “calm surface” limitation, promising a breakthrough to Intermediate.

Ten minutes later, Basic Swimming level 2, stamina +1, carrying capacity +1!

Eight minutes and forty seconds later, Swimming level 3, stamina +1, carrying capacity +1!

…

After nearly two hours, Basic Swimming reached level 10, earning 10 stamina and 10 carrying capacity. The speed of skill advancement would surely astonish the pro gamers!

At this point, Da Chun moved through the water like a fish, graceful and agile. Yet his swimming proficiency barely increased afterward!

Da Chun was stunned—he couldn’t break through despite the equipment. How did this game’s mechanics work? While considering marginal diminishing returns in a game where damage equaled “attack minus defense” was somewhat unreliable, this situation only suggested the buoyancy reduction wasn’t strong enough.

What else could reduce buoyancy?

Da Chun focused on hunger. After two hours of intense labor, hunger should be nearly critical! At last:

—System prompt: Warning! Your hunger has reached 50. Your attributes are beginning to decline. Please eat promptly.

Here it came! The pro gamers had warned: when hunger causes attribute drops, movements become distorted, leading to failures in mining and combat skills. However, there was a small chance for skill breakthroughs in this state. This was the famed “Hunger Stream” or “Dying Stream” breakthrough method circulating online, grounded in the idea that under extreme hunger and fatigue, the body’s movements became most energy-efficient, natural, and closest to the secret essence…

Despite some effort, proficiency still failed to rise. Was the hunger level not severe enough? But at that point, movements were wildly distorted and failed. Hm?

Suddenly, Da Chun remembered—swimming had various styles: backstroke, butterfly, breaststroke—all distinctive, but the game defaulted to freestyle. Could the key to breakthrough be changing this default posture?

Then backstroke! It was the least strenuous and suited for calm water.

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Without hesitation, Da Chun tried, but it wasn’t easy—he wasn’t a professional swimmer. Resolutely, he dived under the ship’s hull, where one had to lie flat. This barely allowed a back-floating posture, and it didn’t hinder lying flat while gathering shells.

Then he waited for the pro gamers’ strategy to take effect. This reminded him of a famous saying: “The greatest secret of the atomic bomb is knowing it can be built.” If this failed, he could try the seawater outside the dock to push into Intermediate?

While lost in thought:

—System prompt: Your swimming proficiency +5 points!

Da Chun was overjoyed. The sudden surge was likely because he mastered the standard backstroke form!

He immediately maintained this posture, but after gaining several increments, the proficiency stopped increasing again. Now he felt his posture was clearly distorted, a failed movement.

Checking hunger: 67!

He understood—the game required hunger between 65 and 66. At that range, the movement distortion perfectly matched backstroke’s requirements, triggering rapid proficiency gains; beyond that, it wouldn’t work.

Hence, the current goal was to eat just enough to maintain hunger between 65 and 66! He could visit a restaurant for the free newcomer meal, but that would reset hunger to zero—not suitable.

He turned his attention to the shells!

Of course, the shells on modern steel ships were toxic due to heavy metal paint and coatings, but here, on a wooden ship, they were safe. More importantly, these readily available shells were free food!

So, he had to learn cooking as well! But cooking required utensils, so he decided to borrow some from the old man.

Da Chun dragged his sluggish body ashore and returned to the old man’s dormitory. The old man lay slumped in a hammock, clutching an empty bottle, snoring thunderously—one nostril exhaling frost, the other fire.

Damn, the effects of that liquor…

The old man had warned not to disturb him, so borrowing utensils was tricky—only the hoe could be replaced.

Da Chun peeked into the corner swarming with flies and found a stove, coal, spatula, oil, salt, seasonings, garlic, onion, and chili peppers—all there. No hesitation; he borrowed them all.

—System prompt: Warning! You have used the drunkard’s property without permission. Friendship points decreased!

Fine, let them decrease. He’d buy liquor later to make up for it.

Back at the dry dock, Da Chun set up the stove by the shore, boiled water, then dove in to gather a heap of smooth, closed shells, salted the water, and started cooking. These were fresh, live shells—basic foodie knowledge.

—System prompt: You have successfully triggered “Cooking” skill training. Upon accumulating enough proficiency, you will master “Basic Cooking.”

Here it came!

Cooking was arguably the easiest life skill to learn—essentially, lighting a fire and boiling food sufficed. But mastering it to develop popular recipes was reportedly quite difficult.

Da Chun’s standards were simple: as long as it wasn’t poisonous and edible, it was fine.

Once the water boiled, the shells opened.

—System prompt: Complete the current cooking process?

This was just the first step—no!

He scooped out the shells, discarded the cloudy water, added oil to the pot, and fried the crushed garlic, onion, and chili peppers until a pot of bright red chili oil appeared, accompanied by a shimmering smoke with hues of green and red.

The game couldn’t simulate aromas, so it used colors to represent scents. This visually pleasing color was mouthwatering. Now he added the previously boiled shells back into the pot.

That was more like it—simple home-style stir-fried shells, completing the cooking process.

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have successfully cooked a dish. Consuming it restores hunger and stamina. You have developed a new recipe, “Shark Oil Fried Shells,” earning the achievement “Recipe Expert,” reputation +100, and have mastered Basic Cooking level 1, stamina +1, carrying capacity +1.

—System prompt: Recipes can be transferred to others, sharing techniques. The higher your cooking skill, the better the food’s effects. The greater the “Recipe Expert” reputation, the more commercially valuable the recipe becomes.

…

Already mastering a recipe? Shark oil?

Da Chun checked the recipe’s ingredients—it really was shark oil! The same oil used to coat the sharkskin diving suit! This oil seemed quite high-end… So that explained the promising start!

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Focusing on hunger, he ate a few shells until hunger reached exactly 65, then stopped and resumed swimming practice.

Sure enough, swimming proficiency returned! The theory held solid.

When hunger hit 67, Da Chun went ashore to eat shells again, repeating this cycle over a dozen times. Finally:

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have accumulated substantial proficiency and mastered Intermediate Swimming level 1. Your speed in water has significantly increased. Achievement reward: Stamina +1, Carrying Capacity +1.

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have mastered Basic “Fancy Swimming” level 1. Your resistance to water drag has decreased to some extent. Achievement reward: Stamina +1, Carrying Capacity +1.

…

Damn!

Though he knew a breakthrough was imminent, the double reward surprised him! Though not exactly the backstroke he imagined, fancy swimming was more precise, and this skill also reduced drag—perfectly complementing the diving suit! Moreover, fancy swimming was a competition event, allowing for participation prizes.

Da Chun felt himself swimming at the hull with grace and agility, rolling freely and moving at least fifty percent faster than before. His fancy swimming proficiency began to skyrocket!

Now, he was far more agile in water than on land. The next step was to master underwater mining, right?

Time to speed up…

At 4 a.m., Da Chun was lost in focus. Intermediate Swimming slowly rose to level 2, while Basic Fancy Swimming maxed out at level 10. Then, with a thunderous cracking of a pile of shells, the awaited moment finally arrived:

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have accumulated substantial proficiency and mastered Basic “Underwater Mining” level 1. Your mining speed and success rate underwater have improved. Achievement reward: Stamina +1, Carrying Capacity +1.

—System prompt: You have successfully resisted the corrosion of acidic water.

Done! Underwater mining—a true hidden skill! Turns out breaking a patch of shells triggered the acidic water; luckily, the diving suit protected him.

Upon mastering mining, the pickaxe felt entirely different—hearing the shells crackle and collapse in clusters was immensely satisfying! Soon, the entire bottom of the ship looked as fresh as a peeled egg, and the dock’s pool water turned murky with acid.

—System prompt: Congratulations! You have successfully completed the Scavenger profession’s assessment task. Please report back to the drunkard to hand over your mission.

Mission complete, Da Chun smiled as he climbed ashore, suddenly recalling the old man was drunk and asleep!

Damn, when would he wake? Surely he wouldn’t wait idly?

Da Chun gazed out beyond the dock at the sea. His diving suit was meant for the pool, but now with Intermediate Swimming, he could barely venture into the sea to train for Advanced.

Hm? Along the shore, a row of small wooden boats as large as lifeboats lay drying in the sun. What were these?

Da Chun approached and found them battered and worn—whether unsellable or irreparable was unclear. He gave one a push, and it slowly slid down the beach.

They floated!

Da Chun was instantly thrilled! Newcomers typically started with transport and odd jobs on merchant or fishing vessels, never having the chance to captain a boat alone. Owning a small boat to set up independently usually took days. Now, opportunity was at hand—a small boat to practice “Boat Handling”! He could also mount a fishing rod onboard to train “Fishing,” which had an auto mode. The old man’s warehouse was full of fishing rods!

Pro gamers had said fish tended to gather around large floating objects in the sea, so catching fish was guaranteed—fishing skill was basically free passive income.

Just then, as the bow dipped into the water, a red warning flashed before Da Chun’s eyes:

—System prompt: Warning! You have used shipyard property without authorization. If witnessed or investigated, you will face direct consequences.

Damn!

Da Chun quickly retracted and glanced around; a few workers were playing cards nearby. Fortunately, his movements caused no disturbance.

Looking up at the sky, the game’s time indicated dusk. Time to wait for their shift to end and train at night! As a mere newcomer, he couldn’t row the boat far—staying close by for a night of rowing and fishing was safe enough.

Though resolved, Da Chun hesitated staring at these unreliable, dilapidated boats. Which to choose? If it sank, the consequences might be unbearable…