Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game

Chapter 82.1: Forcing Plotlines on NPCs

Chapter 82.1: Forcing Plotlines on NPCs

Hal Maxwell, whether judged by the moral standards of Chinese people or natives of the Navalon Continent, would undoubtedly be classified as a scoundrel.

He was unquestionably self-serving, cold-hearted, and capable of adapting to any circumstances; at least, he would lower his head for the sake of his comrades. In an orderly society, he would certainly be unwelcome, but when placed in a gray area where law was non-existent, he could still hold a leadership position in a small team or organization.

In short, whatever could move Rex certainly didn't hold the same for Hal. He patiently listened to Blossoming Strokes introduce the situation of those three rescued individuals and responded by laughing.

Not only did he respond with mockery, but Hal also rolled his eyes at the players as if they were idiots. "What does that have to do with me? Why would I want to meet such disgusting scum?"

Players: "What the heck?!"

Blossoming Strokes raised a hand to signal everyone to not rush into criticizing. Then, still brimming with confidence, she looked toward Hal and asked, "Are you sure, Hal? Have you really decided to not lend a hand to help Ossirian and the other two?"

Hal had only listened to these undead because he had nothing better to do. Now his patience was nearly spent, so he waved his hand dismissively, shooing them away. "Cut the crap and scram. Get out of my tent."

"Do you still remember Jim?" asked Blossoming Strokes.

Hal's annoyed expression instantly froze.

Blossoming Strokes continued calmly, "Your friend from the industrial city in the north of the Kenyan Empire you met when schooling… Wait, no. Jim couldn't have met you while you were still studying at a prestigious institution. You met him after you stopped going to school. You let Jim die before, didn't you?"

Hal's stiff face turned grim, and the skin around his eyes tightened. He stared at Blossoming Strokes with a murderous look that could kill.

The threat of death was something that players least cared about, so even though Hal closely resembled a real enraged murderer right now, she nonchalantly continued her barrage, "You let Jim die without offering any help and even climbed all over his body to survive. How many years have you been haunted by that same nightmare? After Jim, have those other people you let down also appear in your dreams?"

"Shut up!" Hal snapped, taking a step forward and poking his finger into Blossoming Strokes. "Shut your mouth, undead! Regardless of where you heard about my affairs, you have no right to point fingers at me!"

Blossoming Strokes responded with a calm smile, "You're wrong, Hal. We are not here to teach you how to do things; we're here to threaten you."

Hal: "?!"

"You are the boss of the other instructors, right? We all know that Tuttle, Finley, and Jerome all listen to you," Blossoming Strokes stated gleefully. "If you don't do as we say," she raised both hands, gesturing to the other three undead behind her, "we will tell everyone about your nightmares where Jim terrifies you, making you break down in tears and begging for forgiveness."

"What sort of cr*p are you spouting!" Hal's face turned purple.

"I'm not speaking any untruths. Afraid to be killed, you accepted a gold coin to personally bury your friend's body. Becoming scum just to survive? You were quite candid when you screamed about it in your dreams," said the smiling Blossoming Strokes.

Hal: "…

Hal Maxwell's knees buckled, and he submitted.

Having successfully persuaded (threatened) Hal to agree to meet the three rescued individuals, Unceasing Entropy couldn't help but give Blossoming Strokes a thumbs-up.

In front of Hal, Unceasing Entropy openly praised Blossoming Strokes, "Blossom, you were really steady. When Hal got mad, I thought you were gonna get chopped down."

Blossoming Strokes grinned in satisfaction. "On the contrary, as soon as that happened, I knew that it was a done deal. Our strategy was absolutely effective."

"What do you mean?" Guileless Gale and Win By Grinding, who hadn't contributed much, were both puzzled.

"You guys all know that I'm a web novelist, right? I've read some psychology books in order to make my characters more lifelike." Blossoming Strokes didn't hide anything and openly shared her habit of observing human NPCs' reactions. "If someone is truly angry, the emotion of anger accumulates gradually, just like how a person would get louder and more agitated during an argument.

"But if someone appears extremely angry in an instant, this anger often contains a dramatic element, possibly guilt, evasion, projection, or some similar factor."

Hal, who was sullenly walking behind the players, looked in amazement at this female undead whose only good point was her melodious voice.

Hal couldn't understand what a web novelist was, but the way Blossoming Strokes' depiction of psychology and human emotional reactions was clear and spot on. Just the thought of it sent a chill down Hal's spine.

These undead creatures actually understand psychology and know how to analyze human emotional responses?!

O Assassin God, which terrifying dimensional realm did Yang summon these weirdos from?!

Arriving at the players' makeshift tents, Hal laid his eyes on Ossirian, Lyka, and the black-haired human youth.

Hal wasn't like Rex, whose top priority was the expedition team's safety, nor did he care if anyone attacked the undead caravan. And he certainly wasn't going to show any sympathy for unfortunate souls he found "disgusting." Therefore, he had nothing to say to Ossirian and the other two.

After standing in awkward silence for a while, Hal impatiently turned to the undead that had pressured him to come. "I've seen them, you bastards. Satisfied now?"

This scene… left the players perplexed.

"Why aren't they interacting? Does Hal not have any plotline for this quest?" Guileless Gale mused.

"That shouldn't be. Rex is Level 5, and so is Hal. Both of them ought to have a plotline, right?" Blossoming Strokes scratched her head.

"Could something be missing, perhaps some crucial factor?" Win By Grinding frowned.

Veins bulged on Hal's forehead. "Stop muttering behind my back while I'm talking to you, you damned undead!"

"Ummmm… Hal, could you talk to them for a bit?" Blossoming Strokes asked.

The bulging veins on Hal's forehead were turning purple. "You said that I just had to see them. Don't push it!"

"Tsk," Blossoming Strokes clicked her tongue and slightly raised her voice. "You are making things difficult for me, Hal-san~ Can't you cooperate a tiny bit? Otherwise, we'll have to go find Tuttle for a chat~"

Hal's hand went to the hilt of his blade.

"Cutting me down won't help either," Blossoming Strokes said with nonchalance. "It's no use even if you kill everyone present here. To be honest, it isn't just the few of us that know your secret. You understand, right?"

Hal gritted his teeth, then reluctantly withdrew his hand…

Hal was from the Kenyan Empire, and when it came to orcs… well, he didn't hold them in high regard. After all, in the environment he grew up in, orcs were nothing more than a kind of livestock. This was the view that had been shaped since his childhood and wasn't easy to change.

After filtering out the two orcs, the only one Hal could barely bring himself to speak to was the black-haired youth. "You, kid. What's your name?"

The players didn't care about Hal's intimidating aura, but the black-haired youth was visibly frightened. He stammered in response, "I… I'm Brook."

"Where are you from?" Hal glanced at the players and continued the conversation, clearly agitated.

"I'm… I'm a citizen of the Rhine Kingdom, and I used to live in Indahl," Young Brook replied timidly.

"How did you end up in Weisshem?"

"My comrades and I were hunting Long-Eared Red Foxes on the outskirts of the Sorenson Mountains. We got… separated by accident, and I, uh, was deceived by a caravan from the south. I wanted to return to the city with them, but then…"

"—Are you an idiot?" Hal immediately rebuked, raising his voice. "Living in Indahl and not knowing what these caravans coming and going are like? And you even followed them?!"

Young Brook: ?(?°? °;)?

"I've seen too many half-grown brats like you, who don't know their place. Read a few fables or knight legends and think they can become the protagonists of such stories—daring to leave the town with some rookie team that isn't the least bit reliable and thinking they can make a name for themselves!" Hal pointed at the youth angrily. "Let me tell you the eventual fate of such foolish kids in the end. Either they turn into some wild beast's dung, together with their so-called brothers and friends, or they're used for some foolish, suicidal task, and their eventual fate is still turning into beast dung!"

After severely chastising young Brook, Hal turned his wrathful gaze toward the players. "Are you satisfied now, you bastards?"

Players: "…"

"Yes, yes. Very." The corner of Blossoming Strokes' mouth was twitching.

The players couldn't understand the human kid's language, but they could clearly hear what Hal was saying. Given Blossoming Strokes' high EQ, she could tell that while Hal was chastising the kid, he was actually resenting his past; with a past that could be turned into a dungeon, this fellow was undoubtedly someone with a story.