Lind didn't have to wait long before White Stocking Lover materialized in Starcrest Outpost. Though Lind believed he'd grown accustomed to the man's face, seeing it again triggered visceral discomfort.
"My lord, I've arrived!"
Lind responded with a perfunctory glance, maintaining his NPC persona.
Unfazed, White Stocking Lover found this perfectly normal—this was the early-game settlement's lord, essentially a hot-but-aloof starter-village mayor.
"The game's evolved so much! Did my quest trigger these changes?" His attention swiftly shifted from Lind to the two wooden signs by the entrance:
[Weapon Shop]
[Interim Corpse Recycling]
"Whoa, the details here are insane!" He instinctively reached out to touch one. The plank had paper glued unevenly to it, a corner peeling and damp—probably paste.
He licked it.
No taste?
"Right… I turned sensory feedback down."
He cranked the setting to 100%. Instantly, a bitter mud-flavor flooded his mouth.
"Bleh!"
This level of interactivity obliterated every other game on Earth.
Again, if not for waking up in his own bed, he'd swear he'd isekai'd.
But feedback had to stay below 10. It's not like this world allowed pants removal anyway—higher settings just meant unnecessary suffering.
The [Weapon Shop] turned out to be the very warehouse where White Stocking Lover browsed one-handed swords.
Stepping inside, his face lit up: "Purchase access unlocked! Just as I hoped!"
"Damaged weapons: 10 gold coins each. The one similar to what I picked yesterday is actually 15? Jackpot!" White Stocking Lover gloated inwardly—his keen eye for bargains had paid off spectacularly.
Armor prices came in three tiers:
Cloth Armor: 5 gold
Leather Armor: 10 gold
Iron Armor: 15 gold
Plate Armor: ...
The listings further divided into chest pieces, leg guards, boots, gauntlets, and helmets. A full matching set plus a bow and arrows would easily approach 100 gold.
"Hey mate!" He sidled up to the soldier guarding the ramshackle weapon stall. "How do I earn gold coins?"
The soldier rigidly avoided looking at the nauseating face, clinging to Lind's orders: "Dunno."*
Lind had instructed his men to minimize contact with the Undying—not for secrecy (his only real secret being his transmigration status), but to spare them the nuisance of idle players pestering them during duties.
"Even stiffer than the lord. Guess high-IQ NPCs are rare." White Stocking Lover shook his head regretfully, neon-green hair swaying, oblivious to the soldier's white-knuckled grip on his sword hilt.
After leaving the [Weapon Shop], he wandered into the adjacent [Interim Corpse Recycling], where Old Pete was sharpening a cleaver.
Just as he opened his mouth to ask questions, a sign on the wall caught his eye:
"Intact Hyena Corpse: 5 gold"
"Wait—doesn't that mean I scored huge?" His spirits soared. His current sword cost 15 gold, but yesterday's single hyena kill had earned him 5 gold already. Net profit: 10 gold!
Manpower? That's not a cost! When you're gaming, killing monsters is just part of the fun.
"I'm gonna hunt some wolves! But first, let's chat with the lord—maybe pick up a quest or two." White Stocking Lover jogged off and found Lind inspecting potato growth in the vegetable garden. He was convinced: "The lord definitely has quests. Maybe even a side mission."
"Milord! Milord!" He waved from outside the garden fence. "Got any tasks for me? Uh, I mean... how can I be of service?"
Lind stood up, fully aware of what the player was thinking. As a former gamer himself, he knew the thrill of stacking multiple quests for efficiency. Happy to oblige, he concocted one on the spot to send him off with purpose.
After a deliberate pause, Lind adopted a grave tone: "Your zeal is appreciated, Undying. Indeed, troubles abound. To survive this harsh winter, we require many hyena pelts. Bring me five corpses, and your reward shall be 20 gold coins."
He wanted players to thrive—but through earned progression, not handouts.
"YES! Accepted!" White Stocking Lover nearly vibrated with excitement.
Five hyenas = 25 gold (from recycling) + 20 gold (quest) = half a decent gear set!
And it was all seamlessly aligned: quest completion, corpse recycling, and grinding for XP...
"I'm on it!"
As the green-haired figure sprinted away, the garden guard stared blankly: "Why are they so obsessed with... coins?"
To him, they were just worthless scrap. Food, meat, salt—those were real currency.
Or is it just that the Undying are inherently insane?
Then again, being mentally unhinged is the norm for them.
No sooner had the green-haired White Stocking Lover scampered off than a lookout on the walls alerted Lind:
"More Undying approaching."
How could they tell?
Who else would parade around in nothing but white linen underpants in the dead of winter?
Lind studied the two men and one woman before him, struggling to keep his expression neutral. Fresh tools had arrived—excellent!
"That's the NPC from the videos? Damn, he's kinda hot. Wonder if we can get his character sliders."
"Must be him. Rumor says he hands out gear."
"Let's talk to him. Might trigger a quest."
The trio stared at Lind—his intricately engraved armor, fur-lined cloak, hand resting on his sword hilt. Golden hair framed piercing eyes, his chiseled face radiating "stay back" energy. The epitome of a battle-worn, dashing knight—exactly as they'd imagined.