The player themselves goes into battle to gain experience points, and there are also two options: manual control, which increases experience faster, or letting the system control, which results in less experience and a time penalty. After a certain period, the account will be deleted and the territory “annexed.”

Henry Lincoln only played for a short while before choosing to let the system level up for him. The leveling wasn’t slow; it only took about ten minutes to reach level two. He gained one more subordinate, who became a warrior and followed the player to fight monsters.

As Samuel Lincoln said, this is a rather boring game. If it weren’t for the mission, Henry Lincoln wouldn’t have lasted long.

In just one afternoon, Henry Lincoln’s character reached level ten, and the territory began to take shape. It was no longer just a patch of grassland; he now had ten subordinates—according to the system’s recommendation, two farmers and eight warriors.

This setup made Henry Lincoln laugh, because he knew that in reality, the ratio of producers to warriors was exactly the opposite, and the difference was much greater.

Gaining experience points to level up was easy; the trouble was how to control the warriors. They had a separate leveling system called tactical points, which increased with the number of monster fights. Only after leveling up could more complex tactics be unlocked; otherwise, it was just a brawl, with several warriors fighting monsters while others circled around the outside.

The more warriors there were, the higher the tactical requirements.

Henry Lincoln played the game while looking up related information. When he exited the game, he really wanted to throw the microcomputer out the window, and asked tiredly, “Are there actually real people playing this game?”

Samuel Lincoln also logged out and stretched. “It’s free, what more can you ask for? I only got to level fifty-something. The most annoying part is you have to join a guild.”

“I didn’t join.”

“Ha, you already joined. You accepted my invitation, so you joined my faction. I joined another guild, and then that guild joined another, and so on—some have dozens of layers. You probably didn’t notice, but five percent of your output is taxed to me. In the future, if you send troops to fight with me, you’ll be tax-exempt, and if we win, there are rewards.”

“Go fight monsters together?”

“Fighting monsters is boring. The real fun is fighting other guilds—player versus player. That’s where it gets interesting. We’re not high enough level, so we can only watch, not participate. Do you want to go watch?”

Henry Lincoln shook his head, really not interested, and stood up. “I’m going to cook.”

Two convenience meals, even harder to swallow than the first time.

“Why is the game called ‘Mother Planet Territory’?” Henry Lincoln asked while eating.

“It’s based on Earth’s terrain. You study Earth’s history—does it seem similar?”

“I can’t tell. All I know is that at no point in Earth’s history could it support so many warriors.”

“Heh, it’s just a game. If it was all about production, it’d be boring.”

After eating, it was still Henry Lincoln who washed the dishes. Samuel Lincoln stretched again. “If it’s just about leveling up, you could reach level ninety-nine in three days. Old Charles gave us a week, so we have plenty of time. How about we go out for a walk? It’s stifling in here.”

The old city district was even livelier at night than during the day. The streets were full of people out seeking fun. Right in front of the barbershop across the street, several groups of young men and women were taking selfies, each occupying their own spot without interfering with each other.

A strangely dressed teenager was the loudest. “Right here! The heir of the Eighth Planet! This is his barbershop! Everyone, follow my finger! There are even bloodstains inside!”

The crowds coming and going didn’t affect them at all.

Samuel Lincoln said in surprise, “Nonsense, even I know the barber didn’t die here. Where would the bloodstains come from?”

Henry Lincoln shook his head.

The two strolled along the street, not daring to go too far or enter any shops at random. Whether it was the favor of the night or the added glow of the lights, these shops seemed even more expensive than during the day.

They bought two drinks and sipped as they walked.

“We shouldn’t be like this,” Samuel Lincoln suddenly said.

“Like what?”

“Like two vagrants. We should be like them—” Samuel Lincoln glanced at a few young people passing by, “wearing the best clothes, going to the most expensive bars, drinking with the most beautiful women, picking fights with the toughest thugs…”

Henry Lincoln burst out laughing. “That’s the movies—totally unrealistic.”

“Old Charles lives that kind of life,” Samuel Lincoln said, his eyes shining with envy, even though he’d never actually seen what Charles Griffin’s real spy life was like.

“Work hard, there’s still a chance,” Henry Lincoln said with a smile, raising his drink. The two clinked cups, feeling a bit better.

“Do you think the game and that barber are connected? Maybe he played it too, and there are secrets hidden in his account.” Samuel Lincoln always wanted to guess the organization’s purpose, and the only person he could ask was Henry Lincoln.

“I don’t know about that, but I think I can guess one use for the game.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Transmitting information.”

“Huh?”

The two turned into a quieter street and stood facing each other. Henry Lincoln continued, “This is a distributed game, with no central server. As you said, even the original company that developed it is gone. So it’s a game with a high degree of freedom and little oversight—perfect for transmitting information.”