Mu Shan did not enter the village right away. She hid the raft in the bushes and crouched low under a tree, observing the people coming and going at the village entrance from a distance that was neither too close nor too far.
Although she knew they were NPCs, these villagers behaved no differently from ordinary humans. They lacked the so-called “fixed trajectories” of AI, displaying high intelligence and randomness.
The villagers might be drawn to a roadside stall or greet acquaintances, their actions logical, as if they were native inhabitants who had existed from the start.
But this place was clearly not set in China.
The villagers Mu Shan saw mostly had Western features: high noses, deep-set eyes, red or brown hair, abundant body hair, and fair skin.
They pushed small carts with their hands or drove livestock to transport goods. Some wore only coarse linen short shirts on their upper bodies as they carried wooden wine barrels one by one. The women wore aprons and headscarves, bustling back and forth with small baskets.
A conservative guess placed the era in medieval Europe.
Notably, there were no Purple Bone-Eroding Fungus around the village; the environment was very safe.
Mu Shan waited a long time and saw many villagers pulling carts loaded with goods leave along a small path, heading who knew where. There were also travelers dressed as foreign merchants entering the village.
There was a road, and it was a stone road at that.
Not every village could afford to build a stone road.
This NPC Village was at least connected to the outside world normally, and it wasn’t as poor as she had imagined. It was even somewhat prosperous.
If there was a broader map beyond the forest, a reasonable guess was that this plane had not only their tower defense game but also independent instances belonging to other players.
But from beginning to end, Mu Shan did not see anyone who even remotely resembled a player appear.
The village was surrounded only by a low mud wall. There were no guards at the entrance, just two rows of crude wooden fences with a few symbolic wooden spikes on top.
Such things couldn’t even stop players, let alone giant bug monsters.
Through the wall, she could see stone buildings of varying heights inside the village, crowded streets, and hear noisy chatter along with the sound of bells clanging.
Wafts of cooking smoke rose, carrying the aroma of bread and wine.
She stowed her axe and stood up empty-handed.
Mu Shan wore a white baseball cap that day, her hair tied into a bun. She had on a gray long-sleeved athletic shirt and matching athletic pants, with a black waterproof backpack—very everyday attire.
Such an outfit looked harmless to humans and animals alike. Before the apocalypse, it would have pegged her as a college student.
But as soon as she approached the village entrance, she drew intense stares from the natives inside. Everyone dropped what they were doing and focused their gazes on her all at once.
The scrutiny from dozens of eyes nearly made Mu Shan draw her axe.
The laborers who had been hauling goods hurriedly parted to the sides. The entrance had been fairly wide to begin with, but they cleared a path for her.
In their eyes, Mu Shan saw fear and wariness, even though her appearance wasn’t particularly strong or majestic.
Her leather boots stepped onto the uneven stone pavement, making faint sounds.
As she passed, the surrounding laborers all huddled with heads bowed, like a group of trembling little animals afraid she might grab them for something.
A young red-haired man sneaked a glance at her face, only for the middle-aged man beside him to roughly press his head down.
Mu Shan glanced over but said nothing to anyone as she walked straight into the village.
After a dozen steps, those gazes still clung to her back.
The village had only one main street, flanked by densely packed low dwellings. The houses were mainly built of stone, with some wooden shacks; the workmanship was very crude.
The street’s sanitation was a bit better than she had imagined, but it still reeked of livestock that lingered inescapably. One had to watch their step on the road to avoid donkey dung.
The clanging bells she had heard earlier came from the church, the tallest building visible in the small village at fully three stories high.
Beside the church was a spacious wooden building with quite a few children inside; this was probably the village school.
Many women sat at their doorways washing clothes or weaving. They all wore headscarves and loose long skirts with dirty hems.
After Mu Shan, dressed in pants, passed by, they first averted their eyes, then cautiously observed her.
No one chased her away, but no one came forward to talk to her either.
She strolled around the street and happened to run into the school letting out. A curly-haired child came running with his head down and accidentally bumped into her. Mu Shan reached out and steadied him.
“Kid, be careful.”
The boy’s face was grubby, with a booger hanging from his nose. He clutched a toy ball in both hands and looked up at her with a dazed expression.
Mu Shan intended to ask something, but before she could speak, a woman rushed out from the side, swiftly yanking the boy into her arms.
Her face full of terror, she muttered apologies under her breath.
Before Mu Shan could say anything, the woman had already scooped up the child and hurried away.
They spoke Chinese? But Mu Shan was more inclined to think the Main God System had applied one-click translation for all players.
The commoners’ reactions already explained a lot.
1. They were not unfamiliar with players’ appearances; it was a long-term and frequent occurrence.
2. They had some understanding of players’ abilities, at least knowing the gap in martial prowess.
3. Some players had behaved unfriendly in the village, making the villagers fearful yet wary.
This basically set Mu Shan’s approach in the NPC Village. She knew it was best not to stand out and to try to blend in with the others.
There was a grubby stall by the street selling meat. Behind the cutting board stood an oily old butcher.
She glanced from afar and saw swarms of flies buzzing over the stall. It wasn’t beef or mutton for sale but poultry like chickens and pigeons, which killed any desire to buy.
Mu Shan randomly stopped a farmer-dressed man. He jolted all over, staring in terror as if his eyes might pop out.
“I want to buy medicine and food. Do you know where to go?”
Trembling, the farmer pointed in a direction. “There’s a general goods stall over there, with food and herbs!”
Mu Shan nodded, and he let out a huge sigh of relief before fleeing like his life depended on it.
Under the gazes of people coming and going on the street, she made her way to what the villager had called the general goods stall. A small alley had been set aside here, full of all sorts of stalls.
The most common food for sale was black bread. This was a staple for commoners made from whole wheat and bran, easy to store, dry and hard. In the past, it could have been used as a brick to smash people—a pretty good weapon.
There weren’t many types of herbs, and Mu Shan didn’t recognize their effects anyway.
As she examined the stall goods, the native stall owners were sizing her up too.
Perhaps her young and harmless appearance put them at ease. A chubby man in a small hat sidled up with a smile. “Esteemed adventurer miss, looking to buy food? I’ve got freshly baked black bread here—one loaf for just 20 gold coins!”
No sooner had he spoken than another crowded in. “Miss, don’t listen to him. My bread is one of the thickest in the village—this size for only 25 gold!”
“Adventurer miss, take a look at this linen—woven by my wife herself, just 30 gold per bolt!”
“15 gold a basket of herbs to reduce fever—you’ll definitely need them…”
They swarmed around her, pushing their wares eagerly, a far cry from the cautious demeanor of the other villagers.
Mu Shan was soon surrounded watertight.
Seeing her silent and showing no sign of anger, they even started shoving items into her hands, practically forcing sales.
“Take mine first, mine!”
“I was here first!”
Mu Shan stood there relaxed, seemingly interested as she eyed the goods.
The next second, she exploded into action, grabbing the nearest fat man by the front, slamming his back onto the table.
A muffled “bang” echoed.
The fat man trembled all over. His face pressed sideways against the tabletop, he was forced to stare at an icy axe blade descending from above, mere centimeters from his face.
Cold sweat silently trickled from his forehead.
The Viking Battle Axe was embedded diagonally in the table. Scratches covering its blade proclaimed its undying battle record, the frigid edge only a few centimeters from the man’s head.
The previously bustling alley fell deathly silent in an instant, as if someone had hit pause.
In a flash, the vendors around Mu Shan scattered like birds and beasts, instantly clearing a quiet circle around her. They didn’t dare breathe; the timid ones even knelt.
And the fat man pinned to the table had no power to resist against the slimmer Mu Shan.
This was a test—not just of her, but of the player faction as well.
“Is it really worth that many gold coins?”
Mu Shan gripped the axe, her voice sounding from above and shattering the five-second absolute silence.
The man instinctively looked up, meeting her calm—almost mild—expression.
“Doing business means fair trade; being a merchant means upholding integrity.”
She released her hand, and the fat man collapsed to the ground quivering, unable to even crawl up.
Mu Shan smilingly pulled out the Viking Battle Axe. “I believe you’re not a man without integrity.”
Her action sent a message: players might be outsiders, but they weren’t fools.
As if a switch had been flipped, the previously frozen vendors scattered in all directions. Some didn’t even have time to pack up their stalls.
Moments later, the surroundings were deathly quiet.
Mu Shan hauled the fat stall owner, limp on the ground, to his feet.
He panted raggedly as if recovering from a grave illness, trembling faintly, drenched in sweat like he’d been fished from water.
Meeting Mu Shan’s scrutinizing gaze, he snapped to attention and bowed deeply. “Miss, adventurer miss! It was my fault—please don’t be angry, forgive this lowly, ignorant, and foolish one! May the Savior’s glory be with you…”
Mu Shan rapped the table with her knuckles. “Cut the nonsense. Still doing business or not? I’ll take the bread, cloth, and herbs. Price is negotiable.”
The man, who had been groveling a second ago, swiftly produced paper bags and twine for packaging. “Selling, of course selling.”
He wiped the sweat from his brow and cautiously glanced at Mu Shan, who was seriously selecting herbs— the axe that had appeared from nowhere in her hand had vanished tracelessly once more.
The villagers had seen such feats more than once.
Indeed, adventurers couldn’t be provoked—really couldn’t be provoked… even if it was just a girl not much older than his daughter.
In the end, Mu Shan bought a basket of dried herbs said to be effective for staunching blood and reducing swelling. She also got a bolt of natural linen for emergencies.
She took a basket of tooth-breakingly hard black bread—not that she didn’t want white bread, but the villagers’ livelihoods mainly relied on brewing and weaving; what they ate was coarse black bread.
Right in front of the stall owner, Mu Shan dumped all these items into her Virtual Backpack, where they vanished into thin air.
The next moment, his gaze grew even more reverent and humble.
“Miss, I could get you white bread, but it’d take a few days…” the stall owner ventured.
Mu Shan counted out 10 gold coins and handed them over, tossing 2 more as deposit. “Fine. I’ll come back here next time—hold them for me.”
“Yes, yes. Thank you, miss—thank you, adventurer miss.”
Mu Shan casually asked, “What made you all think of ganging up to rip me off?”
The fat man clutched the gold coin pouch tightly to his chest, smiling obsequiously. “It wasn’t aimed at you specifically. Everyone in the village knows adventurers are generous with their spending and have all sorts of rare goodies. You’re new around here and look approachable, so we all wanted to try our luck.”
Mu Shan scanned left and right, confirming no one else was nearby.
“How long have adventurers been coming to the village?”
“A long time—about a year ago. Back then, the village was plagued by bug monster attacks; lots of people died. Then those adventurers dropped in like they fell from the sky.” The man exaggerated.
“They’re really impressive! Practically omnipotent, they quickly drove back the monstrous bugs.” He lowered his voice and whispered, “It’s just that their tempers are a bit foul, and their mental states aren’t all that healthy!”
Mu Shan looked suspicious. “Wasn’t your village targeted by the bug monsters from the very start?”
“No, about a year ago, the village gradually grew prosperous, and that’s when giant bugs started coming downstream to attack the villagers as we planned to build a road. Oh, around the same time the adventurers showed up!”
“The village chief said they were emissaries sent by the Savior to help us escape our suffering! To meet the adventurers’ needs, the village chief specially led people to build this row of miscellany stalls.”
Mu Shan pondered for a moment. The timing of deploying players matched the emergence of the bugs, so it was almost certainly the system’s doing.
“How many adventurers are there in the village in total?”
The man waved his hand. “Who knows? They always swapped out silently without a trace, vanishing back to the Savior at any moment.”
“There are probably a dozen or so adventurers in the village now? You’re the only one who’s appeared for the first time.”
He pointed to a house billowing cooking smoke diagonally behind them. “If you want to find them, you can check out the tavern. They all like drinking there.”
Mu Shan left immediately. “Thanks!”
The tavern the stall owner mentioned was just a small red-brick house, with several massive wine barrels piled in the courtyard. The front door stood wide open, draped with a greasy cloth curtain that people kept lifting as they came and went.
Mu Shan could hear loud voices from inside, along with bursts of food and alcohol aromas wafting out.
She approached the tavern and lifted the curtain to go in.
A U-shaped bar counter took up one side, while the rest of the space was filled with rough-hewn log tables, totaling just over twenty seats. A plump landlady bustled about like a busy little bee, constantly serving food to the guests.
Seven people sat inside the tavern—no NPC villagers.
Mu Shan kept her composure and sat at a spot against the wall.
Players recognized each other at a glance.
For one thing, the unhideable ID bars floating above their heads gave them away; for another, the players’ clothing and conditions were utterly different from ordinary villagers.
They were vigilant, cautious, seeing threats everywhere.
They were mad, vile, hysterical.
Mu Shan subtly raised her eyes. At a table diagonally ahead by the bar sat a scrawny man whose overhead ID read: 【Huang Hongbo · Elementary Fire Mage】.
It was the one who had attacked her.