Chapter 421 Only Win
Ambrose wrote a message on the chat interface and then pressed send. He had been talking with Bella, and she ensured that she was fine.
They were both quite nervous about what would happen when the server was offline, but luckily, everything went smoothly.
Moriarty walked beside him down a lonely street, and saw bounty posters nailed on the building walls. Most of them were slightly torn, and weathered, but still readable.
"You're indeed very popular here." He said with a tone of amusement. "I've only seen yours and some guy Reinhardt's wanted posters. Is there some history between you and this place?"
"Maybe." Ambrose put away the chat interface.
"If you're so wanted here, why did you want to meet here?" Moriarty asked. "Sounds quite reckless. If you are recognized, it will bring tons of problems."
"I was curious." Ambrose glanced at all those wanted posters, some with scribbles over his face, and there were plenty of hateful messages.
"I wondered how this town felt towards me, and now I know. I guess I am not very welcomed here."
"Haha, you wanted to know whether they hated you?" Moriarty chuckled, revealing a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You care about other people's opinions?"
"It's not that." Ambrose shook his head. "In the patch notes, it said that how you treat NPCs will determine how other NPCs act towards you.
"I don't think I had been rude towards NPCs, but now I am sure of one thing."
"What is it?" Moriarty side-glanced at him and asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.
"It's possible to trick the way NPCs think about you." Ambrose said with a deep frown.
"These NPCs feel very human-like to me now.
"The way the patch notes talked about NPCs made me feel like they were just models of code rather than complex beings with their own thoughts and emotions. But, whenever I meet them face-to-face, I can't think like that."
"Huh." Moriarty murmured, shaking his head in disbelief. "I haven't met someone like you before. In my school, a few of my classmates talked about killing NPCs or treating them poorly.
"I am not used to hearing someone treat them as equals."
"What do you think about them?" Ambrose asked.
"Mm, good question." Moriarty chuckled and then saw a top-hat-wearing man walking on the same sidewalk as them. "Well, look at this."
Ambrose lifted his eyebrow and watched as Moriarty walked to the top-hat-wearing man.
Moriarty bumped shoulders with him, knocking his top hat off and causing it to fall to the ground.
"Ah, I am sorry, sir." Moriarty said with an apologetic smile.
"Look where you are going, brat." The man patted dust off his shoulder and picked up the top hat from the ground before placing it back on his head. "Children these days have no respect."
"Hey, I already said that I am sorry." Moriarty said, his smile freezing over. "You are the one being disrespectful."
"Hah, the saying is indeed true." The man patted the top hat before smirking. "Wisdom comes within age, and that's especially true between you and me, brat."
"Well, I am really sorry, sir." Moriarty knelt on the ground, as if he were going to kneel to the man, but then picked up dirt from the ground and threw it onto the man's neat suit.
"Ah, the heck!" The man backed off, took out his handkerchief, and wiped the dirt off his suit, his face flushed with anger. "Brat, you are really getting on my nerves!"
"Bla!" Moriarty showed his pink tongue tauntingly.
"Argh, this generation is doomed, I say, doomed!" The man walked away with anger blaring in his eyes. He almost bumped shoulders with Ambrose as well, but Ambrose managed to sidestep him at the last moment.
"Hmm…" Ambrose moved his gaze from the man's back to Moriarty and asked. "What were you wanting to show me?"
"Saw that?" Moriarty crossed his arms. "That man cares about his appearance and thinks that respect comes with age.
"In his sleeve, I saw some crayon marks, as if some kid had accidentally scribbled on him. Do you think that all was coded?
"There are millions of NPCs in this game, and I don't believe for a moment that they were all coded individually."
"What you are saying… makes plenty of sense." Ambrose never thought about that, and he looked at him in a new light. "So, you are saying that they might be using some kind of machine to automate the coding process, making each person random?"
"Perhaps." Moriarty motioned for Ambrose to continue walking alongside him. "However, I've heard that Martial Company is using the world's most advanced AI technology."
"Oh?" Ambrose had a hunch that he knew what he was trying to say.
"I've heard another rumor." Moriarty looked at him with a smile. "I heard they were using the AI to create all the NPCs while the real humans were focusing on creating the world and all the quests, interfaces, etc."
"Interesting." Ambrose said out loud. "Maybe Martial Company themselves don't know everything about the NPCs."
"Maybe," Moriarty pondered, curious about the possibility of hidden depths within the NPCs. "From what I know, acting douchy towards NPCs is foolish in the long term. Especially now that they are giving special quests.
"Whoever was acting rudely to them in the past is now kicking themselves in the leg."
Ambrose nodded in agreement.
As they walked down the lonely street, they came across a little girl reaching her hands towards the tree branches.
The tree was planted in a modest-looking yard, and its branches looked dead. In one of the branches, there was a red balloon tangled among the twigs.
As Moriarty reached out to grab the balloon as it was within his reach, another hand grabbed it first and handed it over to the little girl.
"Here." Ambrose said with a smile on his face. His feet were hovering slightly above the ground.
"Thank you!" The little girl smiled and went to join her friends, who were waiting for her.
As Ambrose landed back on the ground, Moriarty looked at him with a surprised expression.
"Dude, you can fly?"
"Oh, that?" Ambrose looked at his feet and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah. Is that a rare ability?"
"Of course it is!" Moriarty exclaimed, amazed at the sight. "Well, that will be extremely useful in the tournament."
"Why do I have a feeling that you are hiding something equally amazing?" Ambrose glanced at him with a knowing smile. "Any player would've cried out in astonishment after seeing me fly, but you are only moderately amazed."
"Haha, you were checking my reaction?" Moriarty rubbed his chin with a grin. "You're sneaky guy. I can't ever be relaxed around you!"
"Well, was I true?" Ambrose asked.
"Yeah, I have something on my sleeve." Moriarty chuckled. "Because I stream all the time, all the competitors think they know everything about me, but they are mistaken.
"I have been hiding one ability of mine for a very long time, and I'll plan on using it in tournament's finals!"
"You're already focusing on the finals?" Ambrose asked. "It's a long way to go."
"I know." Moriarty sighed. "However, losing is not an option."
"What if we lose in the first round? We could be part of that 99.99%."
Moriarty looked at him sharply. "That would be unacceptable. Of course, there is a chance that such a tragedy might occur, but it must not."
"What if it happens, theoretically?" Ambrose asked.
"I'll probably cry myself to sleep." Moriarty said and shrugged his shoulders. "I have plenty of sponsors, who are now also your sponsors since you are with me.
"They want me to reach the finals and represent them there. If we lose in the first round, they'll lose all their faces, and they will abandon me.
"Without them, my streaming career will also stagnate and eventually die. So, yeah, I am betting everything on this tournament."
"Oh, damn." Ambrose gulped. "I am feeling a little bit nervous now."
"Remember one thing: do not be afraid to fight." Moriarty narrowed his eyes. "We'll kill everyone who stands in our path."
"Heh." Ambrose's lips curled into a confident smirk. "I can do that."
"Good." Moriarty saw that they had reached the horse barracks and asked. "This is where you left your horse?"
"Yeah." Ambrose pointed to a brown-maned horse tied to one of the hitching posts.
"I'll get a horse for myself, and then we'll ride to the nearest hunting ground." Moriarty said, and he went to look for a horse.
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