Mid-April. Spring.

It had been about a month and a half of Terra-time since Felix released that new task under Tomorrow’s Development—the one with a Dungeon Crystal as its reward. Since then, the explosive boom of version 2.0 had begun to settle into steady, stable growth.

At present, Tomorrow’s Development boasted an estimated two million players. That wasn’t a joke—it was the strategy group’s conservative estimate. This number included players from CN, North America, and Europe. Other regions—Southeast Asia, South America, Japan, and Korea—were slightly smaller by comparison, but still significant.

Two million people in Lungmen? Not impossible. The nomadic city already housed tens of millions; two million more wouldn’t break it. Besides, most were transient, roaming Terra instead of settling permanently in Lungmen.

More players meant more demand. More demand meant more missions. And that meant Felix needed to recruit far more Terra natives to handle it all. He had made his stance clear from the start: no player would be allowed into administrative roles. To properly serve this massive player base, he needed native staff. Thus, Tomorrow’s Development’s headquarters had expanded recruitment once… and then expanded again.

Rhodes Island had once operated with nearly ten thousand staff aboard a single landship. Felix didn’t yet have a landship of his own, but a skyscraper headquarters was more than enough for now.

As for positions—aside from the top-tier talent Felix had personally brought in, most other management hires had been carefully vetted. He and Loughshinny personally screened every candidate. Felix refused to let rot take root from the start.

Meanwhile, Degenbrecher’s Lightbearers had already grown to over a hundred strong. Each had passed her personal trials, their loyalty and backgrounds confirmed. Drawn to Degenbrecher’s overwhelming power, they had sworn allegiance to Felix after learning of Tomorrow’s Development’s goals. To them, he was no longer just a leader—he was the cause. They would be his sword and shield.

From the beginning, Felix and Degenbrecher had agreed: the Lightbearers would be raised as dual-class operators, the equivalent of Terra’s rare alternate six-stars.

In practice, that meant each Lightbearer would master both melee and ranged combat. For melee, Felix pushed them toward caster combat arts. For ranged, he recommended different branches of sniping. Conveniently, nearly all of them had Originium Arts tied to light: some burned like the sun, others shone like gentle daylight. In short—they fit the Lightbearer name perfectly.

Much like SilverAsh’s Tschäggättä, this was Felix’s private army. Day by day, under Degenbrecher’s merciless drills, they were adapting to the methods of modern warfare—growing stronger at a frightening pace.

“See that, Loughshinny? Those are my Private Army.”

Felix made it a point to visit their training regularly. At his side, as always, was Loughshinny. By chance, they arrived just as the Lightbearers were locked in mock combat—two squads clad in light armor, wielding heavy wooden weapons. The wood might not cut, but each strike landed with bruising force, enough to make anyone yelp in pain.

This was already routine. With Degenbrecher as their devil-instructor, weakness wasn’t an option.

The incentives were generous: not only were their salaries high, but victories and ranking gains earned bonuses. Within the Lightbearers, a meritocratic system ruled. Higher ranks got better equipment, better supplies—approved by Felix himself. Rivalry was encouraged.

On top of that, their meals were strictly managed by professional nutritionists Felix had recruited through Emperor. With such brutal training regimens, proper recovery was mandatory. Every Lightbearer ate for performance, not pleasure.

“They look… incredible.”

Loughshinny murmured softly at his side. She had heard stories of this unit before, but seeing them fight—so close, so fierce—was another matter entirely.

“Only competition and combat can turn an ordinary, unarmed person into someone strong—fast.”

Felix glanced toward Degenbrecher, who was watching from another platform, then continued:

“Give it a year… no, maybe even sooner. I’ll take them to a real battlefield.”

“…A battlefield?”

“Yes, Loughshinny. You know as well as I do—there’s no escaping it. Wherever there are people, there will be conflict. And conflict means war.”

He lifted his gaze toward the horizon, toward the distant lands of Kazdel.

“Out there, no matter how strong an individual might be, fatigue will always come. And just one moment of weakness can drag down not only yourself, but your entire squad.”

“Victoria… Tara.”

He smirked faintly. “Well, let’s set a small goal first—make them strong enough to match Victoria’s steam knights.”

Ruffling Loughshinny’s hair, Felix chuckled at her helpless little laugh, then turned back toward the training ground.

Individual combat strength had to be pushed to the limit. The Lightbearers weren’t Sarkaz royals or rare bloodlines, but their mixed backgrounds gave them balance. This was how a true modern tactical unit was built.

Still, they weren’t ready. Their training needed more time before they could be tested in live combat. As for whether he’d take them on the coming Sarkaz expedition… Felix decided to wait and judge their performance.

Among the Lightbearers, some were Infected.

Felix narrowed his eyes. He had been clear from the start: he explained, scientifically, what could and could not spread. Many applicants had walked out, cursing Tomorrow’s Development as a lunatic company. But in the end, hundreds stayed—either unbothered, or willing to give his vision a chance.

Here, within his private army, he would break the barrier between Infected and uninfected. What even Blacksteel International had failed to solve—he would attempt himself.

Blacksteel fielded tens of thousands of mercenaries, yet their treatment of Infected operators bordered on absurd. They weren’t even allowed to eat at the same table. That kind of segregation was a farce.

And it wasn’t just the Lightbearers. Among Tomorrow’s Development’s two million players, many were also Infected. The only real restriction was housing—they were confined to Lungmen’s Lower District or the slums. Elsewhere, they could roam freely, though hostile stares were never far behind.

This too was part of Felix’s plan. Without showing a clear stance—without action—how could he hope to win over staff and players from Rhodes Island?

Yes, it was ambitious, maybe even reckless, to aim at a future organization years before its founding. But Felix understood Rhodes Island’s ideals, and he intended to walk the same path.

Financially, the last stretch had been good. Players received only a base wage each month, yet their drive to complete missions—and their speed—far outstripped Terra’s mercenaries. And unlike locals, they had no cultural hang-ups, no endless living expenses.

In fact, players spent far less than Terrans. A native might need all manner of daily goods. A player? Nothing of the sort. For them, grinding was joy. If they stopped to sightsee, it was rare and fleeting. Most preferred to spend every spare moment raising weapon proficiency or farming materials.

With profits soaring, Emperor quickly bought two factories on Lungmen’s outskirts, pushing Tomorrow’s Development closer to self-sufficiency. Felix’s own research institute, near the city center, was nearly complete as well. Equipment was still coming in, but experiments could already begin.

As for staff, Felix had started by poaching several senior professors from Lungmen’s leading institutes. He then tasked Loughshinny with leading them on a recruitment drive through Lungmen Tech and other universities. By summer, the institute would welcome fresh blood—students, junior researchers, and entire teams following the professors into Tomorrow’s Development.

Kristen’s plans for the Horizon Ark Project had already been drafted. Felix had sent the blueprints and a thick stack of notes back to Trimount via messenger weeks ago. Judging from Muelsyse’s hints, construction had already begun.

When it came to reaching for the stars, Felix could only give his full support.

The newly purchased factories ran nonstop, churning out equipment for Tomorrow’s Development’s players, meeting demand that never ceased.

Emperor, sharp as ever with money and resources, expanded even further. His stage tours had made him well-connected across Terra, and now he leveraged that reach. Beyond factories, research labs, and bars, his hand stretched into gray zones too—nightclubs, red-light districts, dance halls. All excellent hubs for gathering intelligence.

As for the Duck Lord… Felix hadn’t seen the bird since he bought in. According to Emperor, that duck was always either on his way to an investment, or on his way back from one. In short—nothing to worry about.

After nearly two months of steady progress, the players finally produced the first person to complete the daunting 40,000 contribution point collection quest—and earn a dungeon crystal.

With the first milestone achieved, the professional teams quickly followed suit. After all, dungeon crystals were personal: only players who owned one could enter the instance. That meant every member needed one.

—

At the so-called Round Table—mockingly nicknamed “the Round Table Conference” by Cheng—Huang Tianhou scanned the circle of faces. His gaze lingered on a newcomer, one of the 2.0 recruits: a sniper scouted from the secondary league, poached by their coach. His in-game ID was “Uzi.” Round-faced, eyes earnest, Uzi was watching his captain intently.

“Now that everyone has their crystals,” Huang Tianhou said, “training hours will be cut in half. The rest goes to dungeon practice. Any objections?”

“But… the rewards for this dungeon don’t seem that great.”

It was Uzi who spoke up. “I read the drop list. Aside from a unique victory ring, all it offers is a new title.”

“This is about promotion—for the Dynasty team.”

Huang Tianhou frowned slightly before continuing. “That ring’s stat boost is solid. It’ll be mandatory gear for all of us. …Any further questions?”

Cheng only shrugged. No complaints.

“Good,” said Huang Tianhou, sweeping the room with his eyes. “Then let’s begin.”

[ You have activated Memory Crystal: “Midnight Rain Knight – Desperate Battle.”

Required Level: 30.

Party Size: 8/8.

Enter? ]

The Dynasty players clicked Confirm in unison. Their avatars dissolved into showers of light and vanished.

Moments later, Sheila entered with a tea set, ready to refill cups—only to find the room empty. Tilting her head, she blinked in puzzled silence.

—

Eight figures rematerialized inside the Blood Rain Colosseum.

It wasn’t an exploration map, Huang Tianhou realized—it was pure gladiatorial combat. A massive circular arena, ringed with blades pointed inward toward its heart. The message was clear: step outside, and you die.

“hehehe… what fine prey has arrived.”

A figure in a dark overcoat loomed on the high platform, arms spread wide as though presiding over this world.

“…The Darksteels Assassin.”

Cheng’s voice faltered. This was the final boss of the Zero-Type Midnight Rain Knight— the very same one Felix had slain during the Kazimierz operation. And from his mannerisms… he seemed almost terran.

“To think you could challenge me… challenge the K.G.C.C. Utter delusion.”

A distorted, middle-aged voice thundered through the arena speakers. Then, in the next instant—two armored knights crashed down from above, shaking the ground with their landing.

Huang Tianhou’s eyes widened. That was… weren’t they Verdant and Foam? Both of them had joined Tomorrow’s Development—and yet here they stood, clad in black armor, faces blank, weapons bared, murderous intent pressing down like a storm.

“W-what… what is this!?”

Uzi staggered back a step, face flushed with alarm.

“This…” Huang Tianhou exhaled heavily, gripping his blade tighter. “…This is another possibility. The Organization’s possibility.”

—

[ There is no if in the past, for history is written by the victors.

Yet, on that storm-lashed night, people could not help but wonder—

if all hidden powers had revealed themselves, would the ending have been different?

Hear the verses of the Sankta Pioneer, and witness the other possibility of that bitter night. ]

“This road… is closed.”

The Foam Knight’s dull voice rumbled as his weapon slid free of its sheath, the weight of his presence making the players’ hearts shudder.

“Heehee… Come on, play with your big sister.”

The Verdant Knight covered her smile with delicate fingers, eyes glinting like ice. She licked her lips. Killing intent spilled out in waves.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep