Bai Youwei quickly committed their names and faces to memory.
Ada — short ponytail, mixed-heritage features, speaks with expressive gestures, slightly erratic in personality, full name sounds like British aristocracy.
Natasha — red curly hair, vivid blue eyes, looks bold and striking, seems like the straightforward type.
Yuri — broad forehead, flat-top cut, powerfully built yet radiates no sense of intimidation — his temperament is warm and steady, and when he isn’t speaking, he barely registers as present at all.
Bai Youwei gave them all a sweet, harmless smile. “I’m Bai Youwei — just call me Weiwei. It’s great to meet everyone.”
She linked her arm through Shen Mo’s beside her and asked cheerfully: “How did everyone meet my husband? I just came over from the Life Zone — everything here feels so different.”
Shen Mo explained: “Earning points is how you survive here, and the only way to earn points is by going into dungeons. Dungeons are generally run by teams, and new arrivals need to join a team before they can enter. But Asian faces have a harder time finding squads.”
Compared to white and black users, East Asian builds tended to be at a slight disadvantage in appearance. Though effort could compensate, teams recruiting new members almost always preferred those who looked taller and more imposing.
Natasha said: “Our team was short on people. When we went to the newcomer board to recruit, Yuri spotted Shen Mo at once.”
She laughed at the memory and continued: “Yuri’s judgment has always been sharp — I trust him.”
Bai Youwei asked: “What’s the usual composition of a team?”
“Half close-range, half long-range, roughly.” Ada leaned against his chair with a slightly lazy air. “For attacking power, the more attackers the better. Mo ge is our main attacker now; me and Natasha are left and right secondaries; Yuri handles long-range support.”
He thought of something and turned to Bai Youwei: “By the way, did you claim your newcomer gift package?”
“Yes — 1,500 points. More than double what the Life Zone gives.” Bai Youwei answered.
“The Combat Zone’s monthly relief fund is 1,500 as well,” Ada said. “You just need to broadcast for at least 10 hours a month to qualify.”
He slanted a grin toward Shen Mo. “But your husband is loaded — one dungeon run and he walks out with over a million points. So you don’t need to go risking your neck. Let him support you~”
Bai Youwei immediately lit up and looked at Shen Mo with shining eyes: “Husband, you’re so impressive~”
Ada seized the chance to tease: “Even more impressive in bed!”
Shen Mo glanced at him mildly and asked: “You’ve tried?”
Ada choked.
“HAHAHA!” Natasha doubled over laughing, holding onto Yuri.
Even the usually quiet Yuri cracked a smile.
Bai Youwei looked at these people and felt a sudden rush of warmth, as if she’d gone back to the old days — when Tan Xiao, Teacher Cheng, and Pan Xiaoxin were all still there. They’d been a team too, eating and drinking together, joking around every day… These people were different, she didn’t know them well yet, but knowing that while she was away Shen Mo hadn’t been alone — that he’d had teammates to keep him company — felt genuinely wonderful.
As dinner wound down, the conversation drifted toward the dungeons, and the earlier laughter gradually gave way to something more serious.
Bai Youwei stopped joining in, and quietly listened while eating, as they conducted what seemed to be a “post-mortem” of their run.
From the sound of it, every time they came back from a dungeon, they gathered to review — discussing where they’d scored points and what mistakes they needed to avoid.
In sharp contrast to the laid-back nature of the Life Zone, streaming in the Combat Zone was a breathtakingly high-stakes wager with one’s very life. And precisely because of that, both the monthly relief funds and donation caps were far higher than what the Life Zone offered.
“Which brings us to the question.” Ada spread his hands and tapped the table twice. “Why hasn’t our score rating gone up, when we performed so perfectly?”
—