Chapter 42: Chat Channel

Three days.

For seventy-two hours, Leon Wes did absolutely nothing. He did not swing a sword, he did not cast a spell, and he did not concern himself with the brutal, ticking clock of the elimination cycle. He simply existed within the serene, magically insulated luxury of the Lotus Rest hotel.

Mira had stayed for exactly one night. The morning after their shared soak in the hot spring, Leon had emerged from the Imperial Suite to find her worn leather jacket gone from the massive silk-sheeted bed, replaced by a hastily scribbled note on hotel stationary.

I can’t stay here, Leon. It’s dangerously easy to get comfortable, but if I get soft now, the system will kill me on day 100. I’m heading back out to the grinding zones. Need to continue putting in the work so I can actually survive this shit.

— M.

P.S. Your "dragon" looked nice, it’s just a compliment, don’t read too deep into it!

Leon had laughed out loud reading it. Of course his dragon looked nice. And Eternal Heaven wasn’t a game where a high-level player could just carry a low-level player to the finish line. The system demanded individual strength. By leaving to grind on her own, Mira was just doing what was expected of any player.

So, Leon had spent the next two days indulging in the exact comforts he had been denied during the final, bedridden days of his life on Earth.

Currently, he was sitting on the wooden veranda of the Imperial Suite, wearing a loose, comfortable cotton robe, staring out at the meticulously manicured inner gardens. Resting on a small bamboo table beside him was a white ceramic plate holding the remnants of a massive, impossibly rich slice of dark chocolate cake.

Leon dragged a silver fork through the last bite, bringing it to his mouth and closing his eyes as the dark cocoa, buttercream, and sugar melted across his tongue. It was flawless. The NPC chefs in the safe zone cooked with ingredients infused with ambient mana, elevating the flavors to a level that defied standard culinary science.

He swallowed, setting the fork down with a slow, contented sigh.

Cake. Hot baths. A body that moved exactly how he commanded it to, free of pain, free of weakness.

He opened his eyes, and swiped a hand through the air, summoning his status panel to review exactly what he was working with before he stepped back out into the grinder of Sector 4.

Ding!

[Status]

Name: Leon Wes

Role: Support

STR: 30

AGI: 40

CON: 50

INT: 75

Stat Points: 0

Level: 27 (0/50,000)

Rank: Initiate

HP: 1,020/1,020

MP: 1,400/1,400

Skills: Arcane Requiem (Lvl. 27, Gold), Verlimon’s Judgment (Lvl. 27, Platinum), Wraith-Step (Lvl. 27, Platinum).

Role Talent: Vitalis Mend (S)

Talents: Poison Howl (A), Obsidian Carapace (B), Gorgon’s Decree (B), Domain of the Dead (B), Alpha’s Roar (C), Gale Weaver (C), Quillcore Projectile (D).

Inventory: Stormcaller’s Conduit (Gold), Bloodfang Edge (Silver, Severance Effect), Fanghide Battleplate Set (Gold), The Sovereign’s Mantle (Platinum), Pendant of the Undying Ember (Artifact), Band of Deflection.

Leon stared at the glowing blue text. He was a Level 27 Initiate on day thirteen. His stats were grossly inflated by the Mythic-tier orb he had consumed, and his arsenal of SSS-Rank talents had allowed him to cannibalize the most broken abilities of the monsters he slaughtered. He was, by all metrics, a walking catastrophe.

But as he stared at the word Initiate, a familiar, cold pragmatism settled into his chest.

Initiate. It was just the beginning. The starting line. Reaching Level 30 wasn’t the end of the game; it was merely the threshold required to not be summarily executed by the system on day 100. If Malakor, Sovereign of the Ash, had only been a Level 30 Zone Boss in the beginner sector, then the Adept-tier threats waiting in the higher realms would be exponentially worse.

The break was over. It was time to get back to work.

As if the system itself was responding to his shift in mindset, a sharp, crystalline chime echoed directly inside his head.

Ding!

[Global Update Integration Complete.]

[A designated Chat Channel interface has been integrated into all surviving players’ systems.]

[Purpose: To facilitate communication, trade, and strategic coordination among the chosen.]

[Please create a unique Username to access the channels.]

Leon blinked. A chat channel.

It made sense. Throwing a hundred million people into a death game without a way to communicate was a recipe for isolated extinction. By giving them a network, the system was encouraging the formation of large-scale guilds, alliances, and, inevitably, massive localized wars over resources.

A glowing text box appeared in front of him, waiting for input.

Leon didn’t need to think hard about it. He tapped the floating keyboard.

madeyouread

Ding!

[Username accepted. Welcome to the Network, madeyouread.]

The interface expanded, revealing a sleek, semi-transparent window divided into ’Global’, ’Sector 4’, and ’Private’. But before Leon even looked at the scrolling text of the chat, his eyes locked onto a small, red counter situated in the top right corner of the window.

[Current Player Population: 98,412,901 / 100,000,000]

Leon stopped breathing for a second.

Ninety-eight million.

Over one point five million people were dead. One and a half million human beings had been wiped from existence in exactly thirteen days. And this was just the beginning phase, where most players were hiding behind walls or fighting Level 5 rats. When the hundred-day timer ran out, anyone who hadn’t reached Level 30 would be added to that deficit.

Leon forced his eyes away from the death toll and glanced at the scrolling text in the Sector 4 channel.

[IronFist]: ANY HEALERS NEAR THE WESTERN RIDGE? PARTY OF FOUR, WE HAVE TWO DOWN BLEEDING OUT! PAYING 500 COINS!

[ShadowWalker]: Selling Level 6 Bronze daggers at the Eastern Checkpoint main square. No lowballs. I know what I have.

[CrimsonMage]: Has anyone found out who the Anonymous player is? My guild leader is offering a 10,000 coin bounty just for a verified name.

[TankMaster]: He soloed a Level 30 boss, you idiot. You think a 10k bounty is going to do anything but get you killed if he finds out you’re looking for him?

[LostSoul22]: Please... I haven’t eaten in three days. Does anyone have any spare food near Village #0081? I’ll do anything. Please.

Leon watched the messages blur past. It was exactly what he expected. A mixture of raw desperation, ruthless capitalism, and terrified speculation.

This chat will make it much easier for people to coordinate and form temporary teams. For example, someone with incredible healing abilities but little to no combat ability could team up with two strong combat players. During a fight, the support player could stay behind them and focus on keeping them healed, while the combat players handle the monsters. Once the battle is over, they could reward the healer with resources, equipment, or other items that would help them develop their own combat abilities.

But in the end, cooperation can only take you so far. It is your own skills and strength that will ultimately carry you to the end. After all, players still need to complete quests and kill monsters to gain EXP, level up, and become stronger. No matter how good your teammates are, if you can’t eventually stand on your own, surviving until the end will be nearly impossible.

He then reached out and tapped the top right corner of the window.

The chat vanished.

He didn’t need to read anymore. The only goal in Eternal Heaven was to get stronger. And strong, Leon would become.