Chapter Three: Invading the Plane

Amid the lively discussions, time passed minute by minute. The so-called game guide flashed a friendly smile and clapped her hands, saying, “Alright, the countdown to the public beta is now in its final minute. Please enter your pods and follow the instructions to enter the game.”

“Finally, the public beta is here...”

“I’m so excited... I never thought I’d live to play a neural-linked game. I thought my grandson would have to burn it for me in the afterlife. Thank you, Alpha, thank you, technology, thank you, Federation!”

Everyone voiced their feelings, but if you looked closely, you’d notice that no one moved a step. Though the crowd had queued up early, bursting with excitement as if injected with adrenaline, now, when it was actually time to play, they all hesitated.

Guo Lang smiled and stopped as well. Though he had experienced this scene before and nothing had changed, he still wanted to take one more look—it all felt like a dream.

“What are you all waiting for?” the guide asked, smiling.

“Well... There’s nothing wrong with the game itself, right? It won’t be like some anime where you get stuck inside and can’t log out, everyone forcibly trapped...”

“Sir, that’s an anti-human setting from some silly anime. Please don’t let your imagination run wild. Our game has been thoroughly tested by staff and certified by the Federation Cybersecurity Bureau. Safety is assured. Since this is the first neural-linked game, the Federation has exercised extreme control over this test. We spent three months conducting large-scale inspections and systematic tests. There’s absolutely no need to worry about this.”

“But...” Someone tried to say more, but was cut off by the guide: “Now only thirty seconds left until the public beta. If you’re uneasy, you may wait outside. I can call the next batch!”

“I was just expressing my feelings, that’s all...” Hearing this, everyone laughed nervously and quickly rushed to their game pods, fearing someone might take their spot!

The guide’s words worked far better than her earlier explanations. Each game pod cost twenty thousand Federation coins; most of those queued up in the early morning were people who couldn’t afford one. Her remark had a devastating effect on this group!

Guo Lang obediently entered his own pod. Though he was a reborn soul, he was still, strictly speaking, one of the common folks. If he was kicked out and became part of the second batch, it would be a tragedy. He knew what a storm this test would stir in the Federation. Afterwards, the Federation locked down all of Alpha, and fifty million people vanished—the largest terror event since the Federation was founded.

The second batch of players was recruited by the first batch after their return. Conflicts arose as real-world powers clashed with those who had gained strength in the game, even leading to the division of the Ninth District. Only later, under pressure, was mass recruitment opened, encouraging ordinary people to participate.

In Guo Lang’s memory, this process took nearly two years. The first batch of players had a tremendous advantage, since later players were recruited by the pioneers themselves—like founders versus followers. Guo Lang didn’t want to be delayed and become the latter. Even as a first batch player in his previous life, he had failed to make a name for himself. If he waited to join as a second batch or during mass recruitment, he might not even make a ripple.

“Please select your race according to the prompts. The game interface describes each race’s culture, history, attributes, and advantages. Please choose carefully. A reminder: race selection is final, and due to technical reasons, cannot be changed!”

Dun... dun-dun-dun! Each game pod lit up with different colors, each representing a different race. The guide’s smile faded upon seeing the results: out of fifty people, only two chose Undead, fifteen chose Nature Elves, ten chose Frost, ten chose Human, eight chose Beastfolk, four chose Blood Elves, and one chose Nightshade.

“Sigh...” she let out a melancholy breath. The Undead’s natural shortcomings were insurmountable. Despite her efforts to elevate her own race, so few chose it. Seeing Nightshade’s results, she felt a bit better—at least this time, they weren’t at the bottom. Even races like Void and Chaos received no selections; though her race only had two spots, it was at least middle of the pack. This cheered her up somewhat.

“Well... time to make my escape now...” The guide looked at the glowing pods, knowing there was no one left inside—they’d all been transmitted after choosing their race and signing the contract. With fifty million game pods worldwide, this incident would soon erupt. She needed to hide.

But where? There was no official plan for this, everyone had to fend for themselves. As she fretted, the portly manager strolled over, rubbing his hands together and grinning, “Miss, I’d like to acquire more game pods. Do you have any in stock?”

“Well...” The guide turned, looking at the manager who had drawn closer. She shut her eyes, savoring the sweet scent of blood emanating from his body, unable to help herself as she leaned in and licked his neck!

What the—are girls nowadays so bold? The manager stiffened, then felt a surge of heat—seems like, despite his weight, his charm hadn’t faded! He grew smug, boldly reaching out to take advantage.

“Don’t be so hasty...” The guide deftly blocked his wandering hand, leaned in, and licked his earlobe. “Your place?”

“Sure, sure!” The manager, entirely entranced, nearly sprayed blood from his nose, nodding repeatedly!

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After a bout of spatial distortion, Guo Lang was successfully transmitted. The intense pressure of the space tunnel made him uncomfortable; though he’d teleported countless times in his previous life, he still felt dizzy. Normally, gods’ teleportation sites were safe, so he wasn’t worried about his surroundings.

Exhaling deeply and steadying his senses, Guo Lang immediately said, “System!”

Each player was equipped with an artificial intelligence belonging to their chosen race, the sole tool for communicating with their divine employer—whether contributing energy points, redeeming items, accessing the racial tech repository, or enhancing attributes, everything depended on this AI. It was the most vital tool for any player!

Beside Guo Lang, a bubble-like sprite appeared out of thin air. Nightshade technology was advanced; their AI ranked at least top five among the ten races. Looking at the slightly dazed little bubble, he felt a bit better. “Analyze the plane.”

“Master, don’t you need a novice guide?” the sprite asked.

Guo Lang paused; the words had slipped out from habit. Still, he acted tough, “I’ve dominated gaming for ten years, never used a tutorial. I played Warcraft without add-ons. Novice guides are an insult to me!”

The bubble showed a human-like embarrassed expression, but patiently continued, “Congratulations, you are now a follower of the Silver Moon Lord, a proud member of the great Nightshade Elves. From now on, you possess this noble bloodline and status. Strive for glory for the Silver Moon Lord.”

Guo Lang chuckled at this.

“Master, the database contains Nightshade history, culture, class system, and the Silver Moon Lord’s doctrine. Would you like to review them first?”

Guo Lang waved him off, “Later. Analyze the plane first, Bubble.”

“Don’t be mean, my name is Peach, not Bubble!” The sprite, acting cute, pouted, making Guo Lang speechless.

Plane Analysis: Seventh Gaia Plane, classified as a low-magic plane. The planet is rich in resources, civilization developed: nuclear era. Significant achievements in new energy; expected to possess planetary engineering technology within a century and enter the cosmic federation era. Political powers are complex, over two hundred nations. The most developed is the Rosa Federation on the eastern continent, thirty years ahead technologically. Next is the Red Eagle Republic in the northwestern ocean, with the largest territory and population, and strong technological civilization. The rest are small nations, some federated, some dependent on the two great powers, others caught in chaotic wars with weak governmental control.

Guo Lang stared at the information, dumbfounded. Low-magic plane? He frowned; such planets weren’t highly exploitable. For recruitment, he could only target technical personnel to supplement cultural and scientific development, but their human evolution was poor, incapable of forming a strategic logistics base.

The universe’s planes were divided by the gods into nine Gaia domains: low, middle, and high-magic planes. His homeworld, Planet D, belonged to the ninth Gaia domain—a representative low-magic plane, but its inhabitants had pure genes. Such chosen worlds were usually occupied by gods, whereas natives of invaded planes had impure genes, far less evolved.

Still, natives of invaded planes were the main source of faith and low-tier troops. The gods granted players only a basic bloodline and a starter civilization database. To grow strong, you had to build your own power in other planes.

In essence, it was invasion and colonization! Of course, the natives weren’t mere lambs to the slaughter. Implementation depended on your methods; direct invasion was absolutely impossible for newcomers like Guo Lang. He’d have to use indirect means, working from within.

Unfortunately, Guo Lang had drawn a poor lot! In his past life, high-magic planes were the best origin points. Their natives had strong genes and abilities, making excellent recruits once integrated, but only if you could control them. For newcomers, the ideal start was a mid-low plane in the cold weapon era, easiest for development.

First, mid-low planes lacked natives strong enough to resist control, offering good starter troops. The cold weapon era meant civilization was less advanced; before reaching the silver stage, hot weapons posed a great threat. Furthermore, cold weapon societies typically had feudal or theocratic systems—easier for corruption and easier to sway the vulnerable masses.

But Guo Lang’s plane was a tough start. Low-magic meant poor human potential, weaker troops. The technology was generally high; advanced tech meant open-minded people, widespread networks, and savvy masses—hard to fool. Even in war-torn small nations, hot weapons were a major threat for newbies like him, and the shadow of major powers’ arms dealers made it hard to intervene. This opening gave Guo Lang a headache.

He poked the floating sprite, “Peach, is this planet newly developed? Am I the only one here?”

“My name is Peach, not Bubble!” Peach puffed up indignantly, then replied, “The planet is newly developed, but you’re not alone. Followers of the Death Lord infiltrated six months ago. Intelligence shows they’ve already taken control of Rosa Federation’s largest tech company: StarSource Group. This conglomerate spans traditional real estate, transport, phones, and even holds high status in biotech.”

“Death Lord? Undead?” Guo Lang was stunned, then asked, “What’s with the six months?”

Peach explained, “Your first batch of followers arrived via divine force breaking the spatial node, not through a stable channel, so the landing time in the plane can vary. Later, once you establish a base and link the source plane, the two spaces will synchronize, and the time will parallel your original planet!”

“Followers?” Guo Lang feigned caution; he couldn’t act too abnormal, who knew whose side these AIs were on?

Peach pouted, “Master, do you still think this is just a game? You didn’t seem that foolish just now!”

Guo Lang: “...........”

This AI was a bit infuriating, but the information was not bad news. Followers of the Death Lord were an enemy faction to the Silver Moon Lord, but their presence gave Guo Lang an opportunity. He knew exactly how the Undead would open up in such a plane!