The Game Warrior Chapter 1

Dugu Hong opened his eyes in the dark, or rather, he tried to open his eyes. There was only darkness around him. He could still feel the blindfold over his eyes.

He sighed. This was the 200th time he had done so. In reality, it had been six months, but inside the game, it had been more than three years.

Instinctively, he pressed down the option for “Training Internal Power.” First thirty-six internal cycles, then fifty-four big cycles, all to be done within one second. His entire days had been spent like this.

It wasn’t so much he was hard-working, and liked to do this much training—he had no other choice . . .

He was inside an online game called Jiang Hu, which was designed to recreate an ancient world filled with martial arts and warriors. The game used an all-digital system to compete with D&D, a popular game from the West.

The game started on October 18, 2181; it had run for more than 250 days already.

Dugu was one of the first to play the game. In the game, the punishment for death wasn’t harsh; one didn’t lose any settings or functions, only gear and accessories.

But to be honest, unless the gear included magical amulets or secret potions, then they weren’t a big deal if lost.

While the game didn’t make you start over from scratch, it had other ways to discipline you.

Like now, Dugu was blindfolded. He had no idea where he was, his ears and mouth were covered; he had no way to get help. His limbs were tied to pillars, so he couldn’t even commit suicide. And he had been like this for the last seven months.

In the gaming forum, players called this state the “frozen screen.” It was like when games buffered or stalled years ago.

Being like this was worse than being wiped out; and Dugu wasn’t the only one like this. So far, the only way to get out of this state was to wipe one’s account and register again.

Dugu didn’t want to do that.

In the game of Jiang Hu, the most unique setting was cultivating one’s internal power. To use an analogy from martial arts novels, internal power was the only thing one could not cheat.

If a person spent three hours daily to meditate and cultivate one’s power, one could complete thirty-six cycles of internal power and increase power by about twelve points.

Everyone knew from his or her teacher that thirty-six cycles was the maximum, or one could go crazy.

In a daily session of twenty minutes, one could do one big power cycle, which had no limit, but even if one did this every day and nothing else, it was only seventy-two times a day and an increase of twenty-four points in personal power. 

So, the best way to train daily was to do thirty-six internal cycles plus fifty-four big cycles, and gain thirty points in power.

There was no way to cheat. Even if you read at an advanced level, you wouldn’t be at the top overnight.

Even if you knew top martial arts, you could work faster, but still not succeed right away.

Dugu was actually lucky. On the first day of playing the game, he was fortunate to acquire a copy of “Shaolin Meditation Secrets” from a martial arts studio.

Usually, these sorts of studios only taught “Basic Secrets.” Very few people were able to get “Shaolin Meditation Secrets.” 

“Shaolin Meditation Secrets” was the fundamental training for Shaolin students, which helped to prevent demonic possession. Internal power growth index: 8. 

Dugu didn’t know the meaning of the growth index, but he could tell this method grew one’s power faster than regular meditation by about five percent.

Dugu had an advantage since the start of the game, and he never grew complacent.

If he deleted the account and started over, he’d have no advantage, and it’d be a shame to give up on the training of his internal power.

Since he was stuck in the game, he’d nothing to do but train his power; his internal power was already at more than forty thousand.

So-called top players had no more than thirty thousand, so Dugu was even more reluctant to wipe out his account.

Now, his only hope was that internal power gave you some kind of extra strength.

One day, maybe he could use his internal power to break free.

According to some experts, a beginner NPC in a game had 20,000 to 30,000 points in power, and those with their own names had maybe 50,000 to 60,000 points, and the top NPCs had points in the millions.

Dugu’s internal power was still at the beginner stage, so it would take a while for him to break free.

Boring games usually had few players, but Jiang Hu’s only boring part was its internal training portion.

The game had very realistic simulated scenes; its tasks were elaborate and interesting—far better than other games. The best part was its combat mechanics with a web-monitored points system that made the fights amazing. Other fighting games seemed obsolete, and many players flooded to the game.

The time spent meditating was not always boring. Jiang Hu had a forum inside the game, so while the players were doing automated tasks, they could still browse postings.

Dugu wasn’t interested in too many discussions; he only wanted to learn about training internal power. The other players were busy discussing fighting techniques. They hadn’t graduated to the stage of competing with internal power yet.

Fighting Club, Tai Chi Club, All-Around Club, Consciousness Club . . .  The forum was already full of different clubs.

Jiang Hu’s designers were smart to make the game so fascinating that the players were obsessed.

Sighing, Dugu logged off the forum and returned to the familiar darkness. Suddenly, there was a flash of white in front of his eyes and blazing heat flew down his head, making him dizzy.

It took him a while to realize that this meant he had acquired a new skill.

Chapter end