Chapter Ten: Completely Transformed

“T58 triple-resistant combat suit, purple-grade equipment, strength requirement 20 points, constitution requirement 10 points, defense 140, durability 1000/1000, normal resistance 18%, water resistance 56%, additional attributes: ranged specialization +2, strength specialization +4, movement speed +5%.”

“Desert Six combat boots, purple-grade equipment, strength requirement 25 points, defense 38, durability 500/500, resistance 8%, additional attributes: strength specialization +5, movement speed +15%.”

This combat suit was fairly average, but paired with these boots it became formidable—the strength specialization added a total of nine points. Wu Hua calculated that if he wore them, he’d gain nine extra points of strength, almost matching the power of a level fifteen genetic warrior. His HP would automatically recover at a rate of ten points per second, equivalent to half the effect of a blood regeneration agent; in four minutes, his HP would be fully restored. With movement speed increased by twenty percent, he’d become a high-end tank shooter, able to venture into far more dangerous areas.

“Are we trading or not?” The Trickster smiled.

Wu Hua sneered, “Is this your bottom line? Do you take me for a fool? That suit is nowhere near mine, the boots are decent, but you know the overall value isn’t equal.”

The Trickster gritted his teeth, “Alright, I’ll add three thousand credits and three extra items for your two pieces. If you say no, just pretend we never met.”

It was a generous offer. Yet seeing his determined expression, Wu Hua laughed, “Make it three thousand three hundred and we have a deal.”

The Trickster immediately understood Wu Hua’s intention: he wanted to round up the three hundred credits from the Desert Eagle deal. Since the main obstacles were gone, he didn’t mind this small amount.

“Three hundred more it is. Deal.” The Trickster finally agreed.

Wu Hua knew well—the Trickster was going to sell these two items at the auction house, likely for thirty thousand credits. The Trickster had plenty of connections for buying and reselling, whereas Wu Hua had none; otherwise, he’d sell them himself. But the auction house required qualification certification, VIP membership, reliability rating, and so on—essentially, if you weren’t famous, people wouldn’t trust you. Clearly, in this Star Wars world, there was still a long road ahead.

But this was enough. Wu Hua calculated: he’d lost a level but gained so much, it was worth it.

After a smooth transaction, Wu Hua’s crystal card account increased by three thousand credits, worth about four hundred RMB. His hands trembled—this was the most money he’d ever had since entering Star Wars. His previous record was seven hundred credits on his card. Now, he finally had a small fortune.

“Oh, right. I have another question. What’s with the Desert Eagle and its four hundred joules of kinetic energy?” Wu Hua asked.

The Trickster scoffed, “And you call yourself a munitions expert? Do you know the power of a .50 caliber round? This is purple-grade gear; it needs AE rounds. You think those are easy to buy?”

AE rounds are the special ammunition for the Desert Eagle. The weapon uses a gas-operated mechanism and a rotating bolt. Due to the immense bullet power, standard rigid locking systems in automatic pistols can’t handle it. If you loaded AE rounds into any ordinary pistol, it would explode instantly.

Wu Hua realized he’d been tricked again, “You sell them here, right?”

The Trickster grinned, “I’d advise you to buy them from the mall. Ten credits a box, twenty rounds per box. Here, it’s thirty credits for four boxes, wholesale only, no singles.”

“Damn you,” Wu Hua cursed under his breath. “Give me forty boxes, you bastard!”

The Trickster gleefully opened the trading panel and placed the crystal card, “Three hundred credits, hand them over.”

Wu Hua said, “Hey, I’m buying forty boxes at once, at least give me a twenty percent discount, or thirty percent.”

The Trickster nearly punched Wu Hua’s smiling face, “Get lost! You want a discount on this? You want me to starve?”

Leaving the black market, Wu Hua felt elated. Overnight, he’d transformed himself; with his equipment and attack power, he was stronger than many level twenty scouts and assault troopers. Now that he had gear, his goal was to quickly level up—being level twelve was far too low.

But it was late, the night brilliant and starry. It was about time to sleep.

The desert night wasn’t suitable for low-level, low-resistance players like him—that was the domain of advanced players.

The virtual world allows sleep; the gaming pod’s micro-electrical waves stimulate the pineal gland, and when players enter dreams, the system automatically disconnects. Upon waking, it reconnects.

Wu Hua slowly walked into the city, now midnight. The nightlife was just beginning, and Star Wars offered the rich kids as much entertainment as the real world.

Dream Orchid Grand Hotel was a landmark, luxury cars parked below, handsome men and beautiful women paired up. Seeing these players indulging in the nightlife, Wu Hua couldn’t bear to spend eight hundred credits for a night of extravagance. His motto was “diligence, thrift, courage,” so he chose a soft patch of grass in the nearby park and lay down, gazing at the star-filled sky, gently drifting into sleep.

He awoke at dawn, quickly rising and heading to the port service hall. A good day often begins well—the port was a prime spot, the source of all team and quest information.

At seven in the morning, the service hall was bustling; outside, spaceships, warplanes, military vehicles, and trains roared, sending wave after wave of players off.

Wu Hua arrived at the hall, intending to use the central screen for team ads, but reconsidered.

He disliked group leveling for a reason—while it sped up experience gains, it did nothing for combat skill development. Especially for shooters, when has a top gun god ever emerged from grinding experience? Their precision, quick reflexes, and accurate judgment were forged through countless life-or-death battles. That’s why Wu Hua always leveled slowly.

Skills had to be learned, but in Star Wars, combat techniques depended on the players' own exploration. Once proficiency reached a certain level, one could create their own skills. Wu Hua already had a self-created skill—“Focused Strike.”

After roaming the hall, Wu Hua boarded the southwest-bound magnetic levitation train, headed for Ice Creek Path, 520 kilometers away. It was an unexplored area; players who’d been there posted on the forums, describing a bamboo forest completely covered in snow and ice, with a frozen river stretching into the distance. The monsters there were level thirty Ice Bears, but no one had seen the boss yet.

Upon reaching the frontier station, Wu Hua found he was the only one getting off. Clearly, few players cared to come here.

Looking ahead, it was a world of ice and snow, countless bamboo leaves draped in icicles glittering in the sunlight. The bamboo forest stretched endlessly to the horizon.

Wu Hua strode onto the icy river bridge, and as he entered the bamboo forest, a wave of cold assaulted him—it was bitterly cold, but luckily his combat suit had fifty-six percent water resistance, or he’d face the same automatic HP loss as last time in the Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain area.

The bamboo forest was dense, but a winding path led forward. Wu Hua didn’t dare rush, sticking to the path and entering battle mode.

The Desert Eagle was already in hand, safety released. The metal felt cold against his skin, but this chill was different from the biting cold of the snowy air—it was a feeling of trust and security. Wu Hua was eager to test his new weapon’s power.

“Ice Bears, come out now. My hands are itching for action,” Wu Hua murmured.