FVN Chapter 252: 167: Too Artistic (Third Update)_2
Chapter 252: 167: Too Artistic (Third Update)_2
Chapter 252: Chapter 167: Too Artistic (Third Update)_2
Music was the only creative thing that the residents here still retained, which made the music exceptionally melodious, and also caused Liuzi to lament that the world view setting was too detailed, to the extent that some small details all reflected the other party’s diligence.
Liuzi had wanted to say something, but a guard beside him gestured not to speak.
They could only stand still in place, silently appreciating “The Pilot Song” for the third time, before the music suddenly stopped, and the huge chair in front of them was turned around by a North Pole bear.
Atop the chair sat Mukuai.
And in Mukuai’s arms, there was a squirrel.
At that moment, Mukuai was vigorously rubbing the squirrel fur, seemingly completely indulged in the pleasure of petting the squirrel.
Looking down on the squirrel and the hedgehog from high above, the squirrel on the table said:
“Welcome, my friend, Liuzi.”
“...Xiemen Waidao?”
“Yes, it’s me. Seeing your friend, shouldn’t you be crying tears of joy and rush over in emotion? I didn’t expect that we all entered the game in the same batch, you became a prisoner, while I am the leader of the Freedom Alliance. Just now when I found out about this, I was devastated. It took a lot of effort to control the urge to burst into laughter.”
Looking at Xiemen Waidao’s feigned seriousness in front of him, Liuzi decided that he must buy a self-destruct device when he went back.
Not for anything else, but so that next time he could blow Xiemen Waidao, this bastard, to smithereens!
Knowing that the person opposite was an acquaintance, Liuzi also let down his guard and relaxed.
Although Xiemen Waidao kept pushing him, asking nonsense like “Now that our statuses are different, what do you feel when you face me?” Yet the galaxy was too huge; the chance of encountering another player was extremely small, so seeing one now really felt like fate.
Of course, it felt more like a cursed fate.
After exchanging their experiences over this period, Liuzi also learned about Xiemen Waidao’s subsequent gaming exploits.
This player, who had a penchant for bug hunting, didn’t intend to play the game properly from the beginning and instead set out in search of bugs.
After discovering that Plague Chicken could no longer be farmed, he left the safe area and found the pirate organization known as the Freedom Alliance.
Even though the boss here had repeatedly emphasized that they weren’t pirates, after Xiemen Waidao had a complete understanding of the Freedom Alliance’s profit model, organizational structure, and working hours, he managed to convince the original boss through well-founded arguing, meticulous logical reasoning, and listing various facts, that they were indeed pirates.
The head of the pirates, who believed they were engaged in a righteous cause, was greatly shocked and then took a small broken ship to wander the seas. Before leaving, he handed over his leadership position to Xiemen Waidao.
After hearing the whole process, Liuzi was rather speechless.
The whole process was so absurd that it seemed almost real.
Comparing their situations, Liuzi realized that while he had made over seventy thousand followers from selling paintings, the other party had simply taken over a pirate organization and begun indulging in the sustainable plundering of passing ships.
The Freedom Alliance was a small pirate organization, just over a thousand in number, with fifty ships, the very definition of a basic team.
And this team was their first batch of guinea pigs.
Before long, each pirate had received a benefit.
That was an animal field guide.
Seeing one animal sketch after another, the pirates gasped in amazement, then declared they’d go through fire and water for their new leader, never thinking of their own lives.
And Xiemen Waidao said, “I don’t want your bodies, I want your youth.”
“Everyone vote, then pick out your favorite images.”
With Delta handling the vote counting, Liuzi and Xiemen Waidao discovered an astonishing consistency in the numbers.
Each species would vote for their own, and while they said the artwork of other species was artistic, the most artistic were those of their own kind.
“This seems to involve a sense of species identity,” Xiemen Waidao noted when he saw the results. “Although they say all under heaven is one family, when it comes to artistic preferences, everyone still likes their own kind.”
“Indeed,” Liuzi agreed, nodding. “That’s a problem then. There are too many races in the galaxy. To make a product profitable, it needs to be universally appealing. So we must find an artwork that everyone likes. That’s the only way to make money.”
“That’s not easy to find. Hey, how about selling your comics?”
“Although I’m the original creator, I don’t own the copyright all to myself. Using it for commercial distribution is illegal. Plus, the copyright protection in Sakura Country is a mess; I don’t want to end up in jail.”
“Hiss... How about drawing doujinshi?”
“Do you think what you’re saying makes any sense?”
Just as the two were at a loss, they were interrupted by a series of disdainful laughter.
Turning around, they saw a spineless hedgehog looking at them, seemingly waiting for something.
Ignoring the goofball, the two continued their distressing discussion, pondering what kind of animal art could make them rich.
Seeing that no one was paying attention to it, the Goddess of Art finally couldn’t sit still.
It ran to Liuzi’s side, placed a comic in front of him, pointed seriously to the male and female protagonists on it, and said, “Do this kind.”
“Humanoid? But there are no humanoids in this galaxy.”
“Trust me, do this.”
Seeing the Goddess of Art so earnest, the two players thought it over and felt it wouldn’t hurt to agree.
They adopted the idea casually, but the results were unexpected.
Every pirate who saw it said the thing was just too artistic!