My Players Are So Fierce

765: 261.

Beware of the Transylvanian civil officials!

They are more combative than the samurai!

-【11/20】_2

765: 261.

Beware of the Transylvanian civil officials!

They are more combative than the samurai!

-【11/20】_2

Let’s go!

I will take you to find Governor Milian!”

“You shouldn’t go!

Damn, there’s a curfew now.”

Dust Beater tried to stop him, but the already heated Brickmover ignored him, confidently saying:

“That curfew is for NPCs, can they control this noble player of mine?

What are you playing the game so conservatively for?

Let’s help!

Do you understand?

When war breaks out, do you think the enemy cares whether you are an administrative professional or not?

Sir Morphy’s generous treatment to us is part of the gameplay, but the monsters don’t care about that.

If you don’t start training now, what will you do when you’re really attacked in future?

Wait to die with your eyes closed?

Do you understand the concept of initiative?”

“Damn!

Although I know you’re talking nonsense, you do make some good points, let’s go!

Let’s go.”

The two immediately took the foremen out of the tent.

Very soon, they assembled the construction workers and selected dozens of the best fighters from them, making their way in a grand manner towards the Administrative Court.

However, on their way, they met a group of three middle-aged men who had also sneaked out.

Both parties quickly hit it off.

The full-risk semi-trailer, who was in charge of camp security, went straight to open the camp arsenal, distributing firearms and bombs smuggled from the Golden Flower Kingdom as well as several cases of molotov cocktails that Loyal Brother had just finished, and was about to hand in.

All of this commotion startled the other administrative players who, without any hesitation and after a brief yet successful negotiation, also “turned their coats,” and joined the group of rebels with excitement.

Then, as expected, they were stopped by Wumeioge at the entrance of the sewer.

“You guys, get the hell back!

Are you going to present your NPCs as moving blood bags for the vampires?”

Wumeioge was stunned.

He stamped and shouted on the spot:

“You can go and face your deaths, but these NPCs can’t!

Do you know how valuable manpower is now?

Each one lost is irreplaceable, do you understand?”

“You don’t understand shit!”

The oldest man, the Dump Truck Brother who held a finely crafted hunting rifle and was festooned with bombs, retorted:

“You also know the nature of this game.

We can lead the charge, but who else but NPCs can defend our homeland?

Why do you think they are designed to be so smart and real?

They can grow too!

If you don’t let them see blood now, what will you do when real trouble comes?

Can your broken ship drive a few nails?

We’re too few to protect them completely.

They need to learn how to protect themselves.

Get out of the way!

Do you understand the concept of using public sentiment, or how mitigation is better than blocking?

If you block us again, we’ll give you a beating!

Let me tell you, if you get beat up by NPCs, no one will stick up for you.”

“Damn!”

Wumeioge was about to retort but was pulled back by the crafty Little Hand.

His cousin whispered something to him, and Wumeioge coughed a few times.

He stepped back and said in a prolonged voice:

“Just to make it clear, if anything happens to the folks you bring in, don’t blame me!”

“Brothers!

The time to defend our homeland has come!

This is our land, the land of the Transylvania People!

Let those dog-like Greys return to their dog houses!”

Dump Truck Brother raised his hunting rifle high and yelled with his cracked voice:

“Brothers, the time to sacrifice for our country has come!

Charge with me!

For your homes, for your wives and children, charge!”

He was the first to rush into the sewer, howling.

A group of administrative players followed him with cries, and the NPCs, carrying torches and guns, were also encouraged to rush in.

After they left, Wumeioge and his group of seven waited a moment before Wumeioge coughed a few times and then said in a drawn tone:

“Well, um!

Listen carefully!

I just saw that there are a lot of these workers who have converted to my faith, they are believers of the Avalon Church!

As the protectors of the Avalon, how can we stand by while our believers are being bullied by the evil werewolf vampires?

Brothers!

Follow me!

Protect the believers and propagate the doctrines, the time is now!

Our boss in Avalon is watching, it’s time to demonstrate sincerity and strength!

Charge!”

With that, the players from the old church who were patrolling around readily followed.

They have been worrying about not having a good reason to join this main vampire storyline task.

Look, didn’t the opportunity just show up?

“Damn!

Can we do it this way?

This cunning guy is just different!”

Riding his smelly scorpion lion steed in the sky, Poorman stared wide-eyed.

He quickly shouted to the “professional breeder” Fat Man patrolling below:

“Hurry up!

Let’s go and kill monsters and loot equipment…

uh, I mean, offer our loyalty to our god, Avalon!”

A few minutes later, the anxious voice of Ambo rang in the Calculating Pearl of the guild leader, Natalie.

The scout shouted:

“Guild leader, those apprentices ignored the warnings from the vampires and rushed in, what should we do?”

“What else can we do?”

Natalie rolled her eyes, having already been waiting impatiently on the ground.

She grasped the hilt of her waist sword “Punishment,” kicked open the sewer entrance cover at her feet, and said:

“After all this, are you still waiting on the surface?

Did they bring local believers in with them?

If so, we now have a reason to get involved in the internal affairs of the vampires.

Let’s go!

The holy land bestowed upon us by our god cannot fall into the vulgar hands of the werewolf vampires!