What To Do if You Can’t Win? You Can Only Choose Strategy

A ten-square-meter wooden house with drafty windows.

On the table, a page of a yellowed diary was blown open.

First page.

"I think I probably didn't wake up, otherwise how could I dream about "Fantasy World," the worst movie of the century."

"Planner, you should be damned. You just waste my youth during the day and continue to torture me at night."

"Should I say it, it is indeed one of the top epic trash games of the year that netizens jokingly call the game with its feet as the plot. It was in vain that I paid 100 yuan to get a place in the closed beta after seeing the game's illustrations look so good."

"As a result, in just three months, this game was able to make everyone abandon the game, so that Party A's capital chain was broken and it had no choice but to shut down the server."

"Planner!"

"Can you use one-tenth of the money you spent on the vertical paintings to polish your preschool plot?"

The second page.

"I guess I haven't woken up yet."

"I've played this game a hundred times."

"All the main plots and hidden branches have been completed."

"I have touched every inch of the map, and I have obtained all the hidden copies and treasures."

"I have practiced all professions to the max."

"If you can't get through, you can't get through."

"Why do you still dream about this game?"

The third page.

"Not awake?"

"Drink some water and go back to sleep."

"I'm going to sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep..."

Page 4.

"impossible!"

"This is absolutely impossible."

"Why are you still dreaming?"

"Head hurts."

"I'm starving to death."

"Is it because you slept too long?"

"Forget it, even a dream can't starve to death.

"Eat and sleep."

"..."

"I might, probably, maybe, maybe, I really can't wake up."

Page five.

"I suspect the whole world is one giant Fantasyland."

Page six.

"I transmigrate."

Page seven.

"Well, it's really transmigrated."

"To explain it from a scientific point of view I think it's completely scientific."

“I don’t understand metaphysics enough to explain it from a theological perspective.”

"No Goldfinger, no system, no plug-ins."

Page eight.

"Um......"

"Having no father or mother, I am alone and have no relatives."

"The leg is a little lame and the right hand is broken."

"Okay, okay, hell difficulty starts, right?"

"Let's see what I have?"

"A small wooden house, dilapidated furniture, and only a tiny, heavy bag of gold coins left."

"The gold coin has the big portrait of Emperor Duze printed on it. It is a genuine royal gold coin."

"Okay, it gave me a way out."

"First use a gold coin to treat physical disabilities."

Page nine.

"I****, no one told me that it is the French Empire now! So what's going on with the gold coins of the future empire?!"

A gust of cold wind blew from the window, causing the pages of the diary to flip through.

Until the last page was turned.

"The plan to kill the devil."

"The Demon King has the innate ability to distinguish between true and false, top-notch physical fitness, and an inexhaustible source of magic power."

"Master black magic and necromancy magic, instantly fall into a violent state after death, and have three stages of transformation..."

"The Demon King appears in the Winter Dungeon for the first time, and exits the dungeon at full level."

"The rumors about the Demon King seem to be related to the fall of the French Empire..."

"According to the Demon King's own statement, he was very weak at the beginning and could not do anything or protect him."

"Snapped--"

The diary is closed.

A hand covered with calluses and frostbite stretched out, put the closed notebook into his breast pocket, and then put his hands together in front of his mouth.

"Hoo~"

A puff of hot breath came out.

"It's so cold."

Rubbing his hands together.

Three years.

Subei has been waiting and watching for three years.

Su Bei, who knew the plot of the game, knew that if he didn't do something, he would definitely die in the end.

No one wants to die.

Do something.

When we first transmigrate, the brave adventure group has not yet been established, the devil has not yet awakened, the angel will not come, and the devil is still sealed.

The world is still under the illusion of prosperity.

And all these beautiful things were completely destroyed in these three years.

War, poverty, conflict, contradiction.

now.

The French Empire fell.

The capital is newly established.

Everything returns to where the plot of "Fantasy World" began.

For three years, Su Bei wandered in the fantasy continent like a transparent person, hiding his sense of existence, watching the kingdom change, and all living beings miserable.

You will also feel unspeakably lonely.

But he couldn't do anything, for fear that changing something would trigger a butterfly effect and lead to changes in the most critical plot.

After all, this disaster is just the beginning.

The future will only get worse.

Everyone will die.

Unless, kill the devil.

Three years to sharpen a sword.

Only today.

Su Bei straightened his untidy collar and put on his cylindrical hat with three patches.

Bring the tetanus sword you found in the trash can and put on your ancestral black windbreaker.

Entering the noisy night with cold wind.

——————————————————————

The entrance to the Winter Dungeon.

Su Bei was sitting in the bushes, with his back against a pine and cypress tree, hiding in the shadows.

Because his body was stiff and he changed his sitting position, a thick layer of snow fell from the cylindrical hat, landed on his shoulders, was shaken off, and slapped on the ground.

"Isn't it tonight?"

Su Bei sighed, and his body curled up tighter due to the low temperature.

After all, the clues are obtained through various details. If you really can't meet the Demon King, there is nothing you can do.

"Click——"

There was the sound of feet stepping on the bushes.

A figure wearing a huge black felt hat emerged from the distance.

The figure was obscured by the large black magic robe on his body, making it difficult to see the details of the person coming.

"Is he the Demon King?"

Su Bei frowned and observed every move of the visitor.

The Demon King shouldn't be a magician, right? But the possibility of disguise cannot be ruled out.

The figure gradually approached the Winter Dungeon and stopped at the entrance of the dungeon, hesitating.

He seemed to be considering whether to go in.

There are hundreds to hundreds of adventure groups entering the dungeon every day, but there are definitely only a few magicians who enter alone.

What's more, it's still late at night.

Su Bei no longer hesitated.

Nothing is more like the Devil's than this sneaky, swishing dog.

"Ji La——"

Draw your sword and step forward.

Su Bei made a lot of noise when he got up, and he didn't intend to hide it.

The figure paused, trembling slightly, and clenched the hands holding the black magic robe, but made no next move.

Su Bei kept walking, getting closer and closer, only to realize that the body under the felt hat opposite him was so petite.

Maybe only 1.34 meters.

In Su Bei's impression, the Demon King was a tall man of 2.5 meters, with a burly build and sharp eyes.

"Keng——"

Raise your hand.

Aiming the edge of the sword at the lower edge of the felt hat, he swept away the black hat.

The felt hats were flying, being swept up by the wind and snow and spiraling upwards.

The long snow-white hair spread out like a peacock spreading its tail, then fluttering in the wind.

A pale and delicate face was slightly raised, with drooping eyes.

Like white jasmine growing in the cold wind.

The Demon King cannot be human.

Absolutely impossible.

The Demon King is Demon Race, a man, a scumbag who plays tricks on the brave.

This is the conclusion that Su Bei has seen with his own eyes a hundred times in the game.

Su Bei frowned tightly, realizing that he might have made a big mistake and was probably involved in a terrible side mission.

The cold wind blew, and the snow hit Su Bei's sword and the girl's shoulders.

The wind and snow were so strong that Su Bei's hand holding the sword couldn't help but tremble.

Maybe it's the snow, maybe it's the cold.

The girl's ethereal tone was light and husky from exhaustion:

"Are you here to kill me too?"