Building a Gaming Empire From Scratch

He had been disguising and sneaking around in Chang’an City, having a great time.

Although he had failed a few times in between, discovered by the soldiers, having gone through several desperate runs, climbing over walls, dying and reviving, Wu Di finally escaped the chase and arrived at the West Market.

By this time, the sky had already darkened.

Under the deterrence of the curfew, there were few pedestrians on the street, and the few people were in a hurry to get home.

However, inside the West Market, it was still brightly lit, bustling and crowded with people.

Wu Di didn’t know how to find the mysterious assassin with no name, so he could only wander aimlessly around West Market.

Compared to the East Market, which mainly targeted the domestic market, West Market was more filled with goods and merchants from overseas countries like Turks, Persians, Abbasid Caliphate, Goryeo, Izumo, and even Kunlun Slaves. It was like a showcase of ancient Asian ethnicities.

Another obvious feeling was that the merchandise in the West Market was much more down-to-earth compared to that of the East Market. There were fewer of those luxury items like luxurious fabrics, expensive jewelry, exquisite clothing, and high-end incense.

Putting it more bluntly: the East Market was more like a central mall filled with luxury products, while the West Market was more like a discount supermarket and home store.

As a result, the composition of traders and residents in the West Market was much more complex than that of the East Market.

Wu Di wandered around for a long while, his eyes opened to many novel sights, even spotting a few Persian beauties with golden hair and green eyes, but he didn’t see the assassin.

Until suddenly, a hand patted him on the shoulder, and a familiar voice sounded from behind him: “You’re almost an hour late.”

Wu Di was startled but soon breathed a sigh of relief, then couldn’t help but complain: “Don’t you think that the fact that I can stand in front of you alive is already pretty absurd?”

Let’s not mention the fact that he’d died eleven times along the way…

“You have a point.” Mr. Assassin nodded in agreement. “So you’ve passed the test. Follow me.”

As Wu Di caught up, he casually chatted, “What should I call you, Boss? Didn’t you say you’d tell me your name when we met again?”

“Han Jing.”

Wu Di couldn’t help but blink, “Is that your real name? Assassins shouldn’t tell people their names so easily, right? So, is this a fake name?”

Han Jing stopped in his tracks but restrained himself from turning around. He took a breath and started walking again.

This time, his pace had noticeably quickened.

Wu Di lowered his head to look at the footprints on the ground and couldn’t help but ask, “Shouldn’t skilled assassins have light footsteps, landing silently and leaving no trace in the snow? Why do you leave such obvious footprints?”

“Oh, I see, my bad.” Before Han Jing could respond, Wu Di immediately recalled some basic scientific knowledge. “Physics, of course!”

Han Jing resisted the urge to kill Wu Di with a single stroke of his sword and sped up his pace once again.

Although his movements didn’t seem too dramatic, and the noise was minimal, his speed had clearly risen a level.

Wu Di had no choice but to jog along behind him to keep up with his pace.

At this time, Wu Di naturally didn’t have the energy to pay attention to the footprints on the ground, so he didn’t notice that although Han Jing’s speed had increased, the depth of his footprints had become much shallower. Eventually, there were only traces of less than one-third of his footprints left on the ground.

The sound of his footsteps had completely disappeared.

This part of the skill was a combination of leg-training methods provided by cold weapon masters, rumors from grandmasters, and elements from martial arts novels.

However, it was a pity that the impressive skills were wasted on a blind eye.

Wu Di was too preoccupied with following Han Jing’s pace to pay any attention to the footprints on the ground.

The unremarkable alleyway, a narrow door only wide enough for two people to pass through, a long and narrow hallway, another door, and finally, they entered an unremarkable little room.

Han Jing finally stopped.

Wu Di looked around, his eyes falling upon various chests and a large medicine cabinet, feeling a bit puzzled.

He casually opened the cabinet beside him, glanced at the contents inside, and found it full of medicinal ingredients.

“Is this… a warehouse for a herbal medicine shop?”

“Yes.”

“Why are we here? I thought you’d take me to some underground secret base or something. A warehouse is… too ordinary, isn’t it?” Wu Di was disappointed.

“It’s close.” Han Jing replied concisely.

Before Wu Di could continue complaining, Han Jing started the procedure: “I ask you one last time, do you really want to join The Path of an Assassin?”

“Absolutely, I’m one hundred percent sure! I swear on my five sons!” Wu Di didn’t hesitate.

He could only stay in Virtual Chang’an for seven days. After the game was officially released, his information would be deleted, so his choice now had no right or wrong – everything would disappear after he left.

“Alright, I’ll teach you the Path of an Assassin now!”

“First, the weapons.”

Han Jing pulled open a drawer at the bottom of the large medicine cabinet, took out two short swords directly from inside, and threw them to Wu Di.

Then, without another word, he started to teach him the techniques.

“Just like that?” Wu Di took the two swords, filled with doubts.

But as Han Jing had already started to explain and demonstrate the weapon manipulation skills, he could only focus on learning.

In the plan of the technical staff of [Virtual Chang’an], there should have been a full atmosphere ceremony here, allowing players who joined [Path of an Assassin] to experience a sense of history and noble organization ideas like “sacrifice for righteousness”, “punish evil and promote good”, and “self-sacrifice for the greater good”.

But when they were about to do it, they realized—it’s so troublesome!

It was too much work, and they weren’t good at this kind of content, which would be even more laborious to create.

So, in the end, they decided… forget it.

Things like ceremonies, organizations, ideas, backgrounds, etc., would mostly be related to the main storyline in a big city. Even if they created it now, it would most likely have to be revised later, so it’s better to save energy and focus on creating things that can be used in the final version of the game.

Weapon skills and combat effects of cold weapons were their primary work, which might be used in the final version once created.

So they skipped this part and continued to study weapon skills and combat mechanisms.

As for Wu Di, his [Virtual Chang’an] journey had finally moved from [Sightseeing] to the [Combat Mechanism], truly touching the substantial content of the [Virtual Chang’an] game.

He would go through a relatively long training process, from the use of cold weapons to physical enhancement, then to light body techniques, the way of assassination, and finally, the indispensable—trial tasks.

This was a pretty lengthy task line that would consume a lot of Wu Di’s time.

With his busy schedule of working during the day, taking his sister and aunt to exercise, and organizing and participating in the [Virtual Full Armor Fighting Tournament] at night, it’s uncertain whether Wu Di could successfully graduate before his [New World Travel Ticket] expires.

The good news was that this task wasn’t enclosed—true players couldn’t tolerate that.

Wu Di could go out and stroll around during the training breaks, enjoying the atmosphere of the glorious Tang Dynasty while experiencing the unique local customs.

Currently, the urban development in Chang’an had almost completed most of the markets, so Wu Di could freely enter and exit without worrying about having nothing to do.

The issue of him being hunted wouldn’t bother him anymore: the bounty order would still be archived after the task was completed, but as long as he didn’t provoke the law enforcement institutions, the soldiers wouldn’t actively pursue him.

—After all, the player’s game experience had to be considered.

However, Wu Di didn’t feel like wandering around right now. He just wanted to finish the “assassin profession training” quickly, then use his professional skills to go to the palace for his brothers to explore the way ahead of time.

In Wu Di’s mind, he thought, I won’t make a move, just wander around the harem to see the sights, there’s no reason that shouldn’t be allowed, right?

Outside of the game, the impact of the “insider leak incident” continued to grow.

“My World” had over 40,000 players participating in the closed beta, which was not a small number.

With Lincoln’s public statement “encouraging leaks”—yes, some people genuinely understood it this way—many began to urgently build up their records.

However, as always, these people came from various backgrounds: some genuinely wanted to leak something, some were just joining the hype with smoke grenades, and some were simply responding to Lincoln’s call, trying not to get caught leaking information.

This led to the rapid and concentrated appearance of too many “possible insider information.”

When the first few posts came out, many players were exhilarated and expressed sincere admiration for the “fearless Mr. Insider.”

But soon, dozens, hundreds, and then thousands of “insider posts” emerged like bamboo shoots after the rain, making it impossible for people to discern their authenticity.

Even the credibility of the first few posts instantly dropped to zero.

Claims like “casually pick a wife/husband from villagers, keep ten or so at the same time, no problem, can have children, and develop into a family and open up clan and heritage gameplay.”

And “biotechnology”, “rich enough to rival a country”, “technological gap”…

The more ideas, the more absurd they seemed, and the more likely they were to be false!

As the situation continued, any posts with phrases like “I’m an insider”, “risking my life to leak spoilers”, and “everyone, trust me” were all dismissed by the players as imposters.

The reasons players gave were also quite sufficient—if there were so many insane people lining up to provoke Cloud Dream, who would believe that?

Two or three insiders seemed normal, but more than five? They were unwilling to believe it themselves.

So the real insider definitely wouldn’t say “I’m an insider” but would try to make themselves look as little like an insider as possible.

Thus, on the Vortex Forum, in the [New Game Preview] section, all posts unrelated to the game welcomed an influx of players, who tried hard to comprehend their meanings:

[Won the lottery but only got five bucks, ecstatic for nothing.]

“Is this hinting: there’s a lottery gameplay in the game, but the prize pool is terrible?”

[Became a forest ranger in a nature reserve, can’t see a soul for miles around, only endless silence, almost driven crazy!]

“Is this hinting: there’s no online gameplay in the game? No way!”

[On a long ocean voyage, the Third Officer and Intern hook up and invite me to join. What should I do?]

“Of course, you should join them! You don’t want to undermine unity on the ship, do you? No, wait… are you hinting: the game has a rich sailing gameplay?”

[Just graduated last month, went to a night scene with a client to talk business, and the client ordered a companion for drinks, turned out to be my girlfriend.]

“Is this hinting… never mind, bro, that’s rough, you have my sympathy. Come on, put on your hat, we have work to do. Be strong.”