Famine 67: Return to the Team

—Zhong Yanqing simply couldn’t do it alone.

Her thoughts were bold and unrestrained, always in need of someone to keep her grounded. The Xubei Team had always depended on teamwork to gather clues and advance their investigations.

But the other Xubei Team members were not at the farm during the day.
They all had to work on their main quests, particularly in searching for the location of the high tower.

Though they had accumulated a lot of credits, they couldn’t just sit and watch their reserves dwindle. Most of their time and energy went into questing to earn credits and put food on the table.

Letting such capable people handle only main quests, in Si Zhiyan’s opinion, was an utter waste and dreadfully inefficient. Yet there was no alternative; this was the reality faced by famine players.

It was his own team, yet he couldn’t utilize them to their full extent—an endlessly frustrating state of affairs.

Si Zhiyan considered whether to reveal his true identity and tell them that he was “that gentleman.” After much thought, he decided against it. In the end, he still didn’t know how he had come to this situation. If there were a mole in the Xubei Team, or if the team were being monitored, or if whatever had once harmed him returned, it could all go terribly wrong.

As he debated how to broach the subject, the Xubei Team came to him first.

He He led the fourteen-person team and sat in Si Zhiyan’s small cabin, filling the reception room to the brim.

“We plan to stay here for a fairly long period,” He He said, a hint of nerves in his voice. “My Chosen ranking is relatively high; it might attract unwanted trouble to the farm.”

“No problem,” Si Zhiyan smiled. “That’s nothing to worry about.”
If other Chosen are drawn here because of you, I’d be happy to see it.

He He visibly relaxed. “That’s a relief.”

He took a deep breath and cut straight to the chase: “If possible, we’d like to help you in any way we can.”

“If you have any tasks for us, we’ll give our all.”
“That project from Zhong Yanqing’s group—we can help with that too… Just, without your permission, we dare not look at your data.”

“We hope you’ll allow us to earn our eligibility to stay by offering our labor.”

Si Zhiyan couldn’t help but laugh.
So that was their hesitation.

It made sense—the Xubei Team was founded to dig up the mysteries of the Famine game.
When he and Bian Xu “disappeared,” they lost their backbone and probably floundered about like headless chickens in confusion for quite some time.

Now, his farm—with its air of secrecy—stood as the place most tightly interwoven with the game’s essence that they could find.
Rather than searching for the high tower, it made more sense to stay and see how things developed at the farm.

They were genuine people—the emotion was unmistakable. Looking at their eager and hopeful eyes, Si Zhiyan realized that his actions at the Holy Sepulchre and Bone Ferry had already won these people’s trust.

They were Chosen; wherever they went, the leaders would roll out the red carpet, letting them choose their terms.
Yet here they were, coming to work at the farm, wanting to stay, and looking incredibly anxious about it.

Afraid they might trouble someone as “kind” as him.

Si Zhiyan laughed. “Of course, that’s no problem.”
“Now, let’s discuss compensation.”

After some consideration, Si Zhiyan named a fair wage. “Two thousand credits per person, per day. How does that sound?”

Zhong Yanqing stood at once, flustered. “We didn’t mean that at all—we’re not here for pay! Whatever task you assign, we’ll see it through.”
He He, too, was startled. “Isn’t that a bit much…”

“It’s alright,” Si Zhiyan interrupted calmly, reclining into the sofa. “You’re worth it.”

Those four simple words brought everyone to a sudden halt.

He He’s eyes shone; Anderson, Zhong Yanqing, and the others fell quiet, all looking up at Si Zhiyan in awe from their seats, like a flock of small animals.

Si Zhiyan was not the sort to lord favors over others. Since they were willing to follow him, he would not let them be shortchanged.
Previously, due to the farm’s precarious state, Anderson’s wage had only been seven hundred credits—far beneath Anderson’s capabilities. Anderson had worked for him out of gratitude for being saved, but now that the emergency was past, the rest of the owed compensation could be made up.

Fourteen people wasn’t many; all told, their daily payout totaled twenty-eight thousand. Add in payments for the rest of the staff, and the farm’s daily operating cost was around forty thousand credits.
Yet with twenty-one thousand in daily income, the farm could easily cover those wages.

Si Zhiyan had always believed that only a fair, all-benefiting system could last in the long run.
He would never take advantage of anyone.

At last, the Xubei Team he founded had made its way home.
A circle completed, no matter how winding the path.

And so, the Xubei Team officially became permanent staff at the farm, drawing salaries and joining the regular workforce.

Without delay, he put them to use.

The first step was to set the learned members of the team to work on the ice research.

For Zhong Yanqing, these were the best conditions she’d ever had—in the day leading her group on their project, by night sleeping in lakeview dorms. It was like the days before the game’s descent, buried in scholarly work, motivation surging anew.

It was just as well; with her leg still healing, she could use the chance to recuperate. Si Zhiyan made special arrangements in the kitchen so Li Xuan would provide extra nutritious meals for the Xubei Team, giving the scholars a health boost.

Zhong Yanqing was deeply moved, near tears. “Having food delivered with a broken leg, not having to scale cliffs or fall into frozen pits, not being forced to solve riddles while being harassed by bizarre rabbits, being able to work out formulas on a proper table—this is just too comfortable!”
She took a sip of latte, eyes shining. “To think, after an all-nighter I can even get coffee! Is this paradise?!”

…It sounded both pitiful and deeply moving.

The other team, headed by He He and Wang Jianguo, constituted the combat unit.

These members weren’t academics—they had been recruited by Bian Xu for their special combat abilities.

Anderson was also part of this group.
Now that the Bone Ferry was liberated, there were more qualified players around. With the farm’s micro-economy in balance and enough credits from outside mission runs, service players could return to their original jobs—Anderson need not keep running agritourism events.

Anderson could now return to the team, with much more free time.
Though, truth be told, he seemed a bit regretful, as if he’d grown fond of performing in front of crowds and was missing the stage.

It was an admirable side of him, but having such talent perform street magic was a waste. Si Zhiyan, not one to succumb to sentimentality, assigned them a real task.

—Exploration beyond the current boundaries.

He dedicated a cabin as the Xubei Team’s war room. At its center stood a massive map.

Their knowledge of this mist-shrouded world was still sorely lacking.

The map depicted two adjacent territories: the farm and Bone Ferry, not far from each other, both settled within the Blackthorn Deadwood Forest—half-frozen, desolate ground. Further north, the region connected via underground rivers and glaciers; north of the ice fields yawned the endless abyss.

The ice fields seemed to mark the extreme northern edge of this world. In this light, the Blackthorn Forest, where the farm lay, was already in the far north.

What lay in the even more distant regions was complete darkness—nobody knew.

To find more settlements, they’d have to explore further into the mist, steadily unveiling the hidden face of this world.

The new world hadn’t been open long, and so far, all players who’d reached the convenience store had been born in either the icefields or the Blackthorn Forest.

Yet one player brought back a different report from the Xubei Team’s research:
“I spawned on the edge of the Blackthorn Forest. North of me was forest, but south was a stretch of endless lava.”

“And deep within the lava… there was the shadow of something else…”

“Eh? Take a closer look? No way! Scared me half to death; I didn’t dare go south—I dashed straight north into the forest.”

Just recalling it made the player shudder. He popped open a cold cola—fizz!—and gulped half of it in a refreshing rush.

“Ahh—thank heavens I made the right choice.”
He burped, sounding immensely relieved.
“To find a convenience store, to end up at the farm—I’ve never been luckier!”

“But… what about players who spawned further in?” He wondered. “Probably can’t even find water.”

“Haha, but not my problem. I’m as happy as could be right now. Gotta go, I have a fishing date this afternoon. Thanks again for the cola!”

“Alright, thanks for your trouble, brother, really appreciate it,” Wang Jianguo said with a smile, looking thoughtful.

And so, the exploration team settled on their next route—

They would head south, to seek out the lava zone.

He He himself stayed at the farm with two teammates to handle the daily blood mist; Zhong Yanqing, with four teammates, managed the research.
The remaining six, led by Anderson, organized themselves and set out on their journey.

Si Zhiyan had made a pact with them: whatever they found, they must return within ten days. When the attack from the [Eye] arrived, the farm would need to gather all its strength.

For smooth communication, Si Zhiyan called in the Holy Grail from Nidhogg’s party and handed it over to Anderson, the leader.

Anderson looked down at the Holy Grail, then up at Si Zhiyan, his eyes widening in sudden realization. “You…”

Si Zhiyan shook his head gently.

After a moment’s hesitation, he said nothing, only instructing:
“Recalling the Holy Grail is easy enough. This time, don’t lose it.”

Anderson nodded solemnly.

Si Zhiyan watched them depart, his heart filled with hope for their expedition.

…………
……

Si Zhiyan had patience, maintaining the status quo day by day.

And his patience was rewarded.
At last, some who had sat on the sidelines could wait no longer.

Three days later, Nidhogg sought Si Zhiyan out.

He made one request:

“That ritual by the hot spring—the blood sacrifice.”
Nidhogg lounged in the frost, dragon wings stirring a chill wind.
“I don’t care what you plan to do about it. But after you finish with the array, I want what’s left.”

“What’s left?” Si Zhiyan queried.

“Remnants. The structure, the markings, the cursed objects—call them what you will. Once your business with the sacrifice is done, let me have what remains—preferably something as intact as possible.”
“If you need to claim essential loot, take what you must, just leave me the core of the ritual array.”

Si Zhiyan’s smile relaxed as he leaned back into the clouds, legs crossed. “A fair trade. The farm doesn’t do business at a loss.”
“If you’re making such a request, you must already know what you’ll give me in return.”

“Of course.”

Half of Nidhogg’s face was lost in shadow.

“If you bring me an array that’s still seventy percent intact, I’ll answer a question for you.”

In the darkness, the dragon’s pupils gleamed gold.

“Fair enough, isn’t it, boss? You’ve been curious about me for a long while, haven’t you?”

Si Zhiyan kept his composure, gazing steadily at him.

Nidhogg stared right back, and after a long moment suddenly grinned.

“What’s wrong, don’t trust me?”

“As a deposit, I’ll give you a hint in advance.”

“Boss… now I remember where we’ve met before.”