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Chapter 11 - 11

I just saw a comment from an enthusiastic reader in the discussion area saying that this book is slow and the plot is a bit drawn out. Hmm, I think it's necessary to clarify this matter.

First, regarding the pace, currently, I'm publishing 2-3 chapters a day. Yesterday, I published 5 chapters. Each chapter is around 3500 characters, so it shouldn't be considered slow. In the future, barring any unforeseen circumstances, I plan to publish 2 chapters a day, roughly six to seven thousand characters. While I can't claim to be incredibly fast, it definitely meets the average standard.

Second, regarding the issue of the plot being drawn out, I think this needs to be emphasized. I am a Diablo fan. Although my skill level isn't high and I've never played on Battle.net, only ever messing around in single-player, this doesn't negate the fact that I'm a Diablo fan. This is also the reason that prompted me to write this book.

As a Diablo fan author, the setting of this book is the protagonist transmigrating to the Diablo World. However, I don't want to mess around with settings like many other transmigration novels, introducing this other world with just a few casual strokes.

I really like Diablo, so I hope that the world the protagonist transmigrates to, which is similar to Diablo, can be depicted more completely, both in terms of setting and plot. I hope to portray each individual character within it vividly and realistically. I hope that even people who haven't played Diablo can feel the charm of Diablo. Therefore, in the beginning part, I will explain the setting of this world in relatively detailed terms and strive to depict the customs and culture within the Diablo World. I hope my readers see a relatively complete Diablo World, and not just a book. So, regarding the issue of the plot being drawn out in the earlier parts, I acknowledge it might feel a bit frustrating. I have also done my best to add some humorous elements to hopefully compensate for this deficiency. Perhaps some people still won't like it, but I will persist in writing this way. This is just the beginning; soon, everyone will see a magnificent Diablo World unfold before their eyes.

That's all...

(end of chapter)

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The three people I just pointed out are considered to be doing quite well. There are many other Class Holders who only hold a rough Wooden Club in their hands, wear Daily Clothing, and thick leather shoes on their feet. It looks like they haven't dropped a single piece of Equipment yet. Poor kids.

As I looked around at the surrounding Class Holders with interest, their gazes were also fixed on me. There are only a few thousand Class Holders in the entire Rogue Encampment. Even if people aren't close, they've long remembered each other's faces and names clearly. So, the appearance of me, a stranger who is clearly also a Class Holder, made them all turn their heads.

The center of the Camp was clearly cleaner and tidier than the west district I just came from. Just the ground, which was paved with polished stones, and the wooden houses, which were still shabby but infinitely better than tents, showed this. There was also a huge fountain in the very center. As expected, special status comes with special treatment.

Almost everyone walking around in the center was a Class Holder. Over time, this place had become the default exclusive paradise for Class Holders.

It's not that there's a sign outside saying, "Commoners and Dogs Not Allowed." Anyone is allowed to enter and exit here. But think about it, most Class Holders are here. If you, a Commoner, are here, you'd have to show humility every time you see a Class Holder. You'd probably be exhausted just from bowing and scraping all the way. Moreover, there's nothing here that Commoners would use. Most of what's sold are travel supplies for Class Holders, and so on. What would a Commoner come here for anyway? To drink? There's plenty of Ale in the west district, and the taste isn't necessarily worse. To broaden your horizons? Be careful you don't encounter a Class Holder with a bad temper who casually throws you into the Fallen Camp.

Soon, Doug and Geoff stopped at a relatively well-decorated wooden house. I looked up and saw the sign that read "Rogue Ale." It seemed this was where Doug meant when he said "have a drink."

Following Doug and Geoff inside, a cacophony of noise immediately assaulted my ears. Inside, people were packed together, the air thick with heat. Voices talking, arguing, bragging, roaring – every sound reached my ears. The space inside the Ale house was vast. After staying for a while, I could clearly sense that although there were no walls separating them, it was divided into several areas. The large area right by the entrance occupied almost three-quarters of the entire Ale house. Most of the people sitting there were Barbarians, interspersed with a few more unique Paladins, Amazons, and Druids. They were drinking Ale in large gulps, shouting loudly, bragging, and arguing. Almost all the noise and chaos in the Ale house was generated by this one area.

To the right of this chaotic area was a small section where only Paladins, Druids, and Amazons sat. They were calm and steady. The difference was that when they discussed things, Paladins always carried a hint of rigor, Druids were gentle, and Amazons were indifferent.

In the innermost part of the Ale house was the paradise for Mages (Necromancers and Wizards) and Assassins. Assassins liked to live behind the shadows, so this corner was naturally their best choice. As for Mages, they were silent, wise, and always liked to think. Their occasional exchanges were always about academic knowledge. This quiet corner was also the most suitable place for them.

"Oh, damn it, is today a god's birthday? Why are there so many people?" Doug and Geoff said, frowning. At this time, the entire Ale house was almost full.

Finally, Doug and Geoff, relying on their physiques, managed to squeeze out a few empty seats in the first area. At the same time, they kindly waved me over. I immediately shook my head. Are you kidding? In my original world, I didn't like going to bars because they were too noisy. Let alone now, asking me to sit next to the loud-mouthed Doug, I'd have to be crazy.

Seeing me refuse, Doug didn't mind. He turned his head and pricked up his ears, listening carefully to the conversations nearby. Soon, he found an opening and immediately started discussing loudly with another Barbarian. As soon as his loud voice came out, it indeed overpowered everyone else, like placing a high-power speaker in a place where the decibel level was already severely off the charts. I secretly congratulated myself for not being dizzy enough to join them.

It seemed the second area was where I should stay. Those polite Paladins, I believed, wouldn't refuse my request. More importantly, there were fellow Druids there. Perhaps I could learn something from them.

I actively turned to the right, but was quickly disappointed. There were no seats available there either. I couldn't possibly be as thick-skinned as the Barbarian brothers and squeeze onto a chair with someone. I sighed helplessly. I originally wanted to leave this unpleasant place, but for a moment, I didn't know where else to go, so I had to set my sights on the innermost corner, the territory of the Mages and Assassins.

I didn't like Assassins. They gave off a chilling feeling. Unless I was familiar with them, I absolutely wouldn't sit next to them. As for Mages, good heavens, do you expect me, a student who graduated from a third-rate university, to have any common topics with these old scholars who have researched the Arcane Domain for decades? Those academic questions, like heavenly scriptures, were even more effective than lullabies to me.

But now, forced by the situation, I either leave here or stay with them. Perhaps I could also choose to just stand here. Tch, do you think I'm stupid?

Without thinking (actually, I had been standing there like an idiot considering for a long time), I walked towards the innermost part.

When passing through the boundary between the second and third areas, I clearly felt myself passing through a fragile membrane. Then, as if suddenly entering another world, the rude and boisterous sounds from outside suddenly disappeared.

Among the four Mages sitting around the innermost table, the one who looked the oldest suddenly turned his head and glanced at me. Then, with a hint of a kind smile, he gave me an almost imperceptible nod before lowering his head and continuing to immerse himself in the topic they were discussing.

So powerful, I was secretly startled. This layer of membrane was clearly the Soundproofing Barrier set up by that old Mage just now. So, when I rashly intruded, he discovered me as soon as I touched the barrier.

I wasn't surprised by the existence of the Soundproofing Barrier Skill. After all, I wasn't an idiot. With thousands of years of history on the Dark Continent, how could there only be the few Skills and spells from the Game? Do you think those Mages known as "magic fanatics" lived in vain?

The reason for my surprise was that from Lars's words, I vaguely understood that besides the main Skills that Mages could learn after reaching a certain Level, any Mage wanting to use other Skills had to possess a certain ability. Therefore, the old Mage before me either had a very high Level or had reached a considerable level in his research and control of his own magic.

Forget it, it's not like I can curry favor with him now anyway. I also have no interest in lowering myself to flatter him. I looked around. There were only 8 tables in total here. Four of them were already occupied by Wizards. Although there were still empty seats at each table, seeing their profound and mysterious appearance while discussing problems, I wisely chose to ignore them.

There were two more tables with plenty of empty seats, but each was occupied by a chilling Skeleton... Oh, no, they were two great Necromancer Lords. Seeing their gloomy appearance and the faint death aura emanating from them, they clearly hadn't mastered their cultivation yet. According to Lars, the most powerful Necromancer in legend, wherever he walked, the bones on the ground would turn into Undead, and Corpses would be repeatedly Resurrected as Golems...

I immediately pictured such a scene in my mind: In a former battlefield, countless Corpses and skeletons lay on the ground in unwilling, twisted postures. Rusty Weapons were stuck all over the earth. The air was filled with a rotten, bloody smell. At this moment, a dark figure walked from afar, completely shrouded in a huge, hooded black robe that reached the ground. A layer of black aura surrounded his entire body as he slowly moved without his feet touching the ground. Wherever he passed, the soil began to loosen, and pale Skeletons, some wielding great axes, some holding longbows, some riding ferocious Bone Horses wearing sturdy armor, some draped in black magic robes shimmering with magical light, slowly crawled out of the earth. They slowly straightened their bodies, raised their chilling skulls, and let out a heavenward roar. Before long, the entire bloody earth was covered in white...

OMG, what a shocking scene that would be! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil. It's truly f***ing awesome! Such a character would probably be able to be a villain boss even in Star Wars.

However, even if these two Necromancers hadn't mastered their skills, I didn't have the habit of dining with them. Nobody would want to eat with someone next to them who constantly reminds them of Corpses and bones.

Then, there was another table with two Assassin uncles sitting there, looking cold and unapproachable. It seemed they sensed my gaze and looked at me. Their cold eyes passed right through me as if they only saw air, and then they continued to lower their heads and silently discuss something.

OMG, they scared me to death! I can't afford to provoke any of these people!

So, I directed my gaze towards the last table.

One person is good, there's an empty seat.

Not old, good, we might have common topics.

Seems like a girl, good, maybe we can even have a deeper exchange.

This table seemed tailor-made for me, or like a lovesick beauty who had waited eight million years for a chance to cross paths with me. Although this situation felt a bit strange, as the saying goes, there are three things to avoid in the Jianghu (martial world): one, children; two, monks/nuns; three, single women. It's best not to provoke these three types of people if possible. And the young female Wizard before me seemed to fit two of those categories!

But at least it's better than the other tables, I thought, and slowly walked forward...

(end of chapter)

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