“Now, the song sales in Angel City have already started to generate quite a bit of feedback. Every time terminal merchants come back from the outside, they always collect data on the popularity of songs and TV dramas. At present, fan groups have clearly started to form. Although there isn’t a very solid organization yet, a distinction is gradually forming between well-known songs and unknown ones. Furthermore, in terms of film and television, there are also differences between works for the masses and works for niche audiences. So even songs that don’t use mind control can still secure a place in the market.”
This was the first time He Fang had heard what Yuan Sanjin said: “When did you all start collecting this kind of data?”
Yuan Sanjin paused for a moment: “This is… part of helping Angel City better understand the preferences of the public. It will influence the direction of future creations. However, what I report to you, City Lord, is generally just the overall totals. Too detailed of a report would bring you unnecessary extra work.”
He Fang choked a little. Even though that was the case, he actually wouldn’t have minded learning about it. Since when do players complete quests without even knowing what’s going on?
“So are there download rankings, sales rankings, positive review rankings, and things like that?” He Fang asked curiously.
“There are. They’re all on the terminal, and everyone can see them,” Yuan Sanjin replied.
He Fang scratched his head, looking a bit awkward. In real life, he used the internet often enough, but surely he didn’t need to surf the web inside a game, too? So inside the game, he basically only used the terminal to contact various NPCs.
He Fang turned to Shi Sangtian in front of him and said, “As for the matter of composing, I think it’s fine. You can go discuss it with Yuan Sanjin.”
“Got it.”
He Fang watched Shi Sangtian leave. He sat in the library’s conference room, stretched out his body, and blinked his eyes.
The abilities of the two Deputy City Lords from the Library were indeed formidable. Once the final version of the Doctrine of the Divine Lord by Shi Sangtian was approved by He Fang’s side, its implementation began immediately. It had to be said that the results were especially remarkable. Now, He Fang could see the rate of increase in the Divine Lord’s faith points accelerating. Thanks to the existence of the Doctrine of the Divine Lord, those who preached now had something solid to rely on. The published doctrine had practically become a must-have. Everyone owned a copy, except for the NPCs in the main city.
The NPCs in the main city really did look down on the Divine Lord. Understandably so. After all, to them, the Divine Lord was nothing more than a nondescript landmark in the city. And no one would put their faith in just a landmark.
He Fang sat casually in his chair, idly spinning one leg of the stool on the ground, his body swaying back and forth.
Lately, his NPCs had become increasingly refined. There were many things that only required him to make decisions. Everything else they could handle. And they seemed to be getting better and better at understanding how to interact with him, how to find the methods he liked best.
Things were peaceful, and development was swift. He Fang faintly felt that perhaps the city was now starting to evolve in the direction he had always longed for.
Even without him, the city could now develop on its own.
While joy blossomed in his heart, a faint sense of melancholy also quietly spread within. As expected, compared to infrastructure-based games like “Ruins Without Restart”, the main storyline of this world wasn’t truly so grand that it would take several years to complete.
Thankfully, the real charm of this game didn’t lie in its main storyline anyway.
He Fang opened the terminal and started browsing through all kinds of content. However, the more he looked, the more astonished he became. It was practically no different from the modern internet.
His terminal was the highest-grade model, personally crafted by Zhu Yan and directly implanted into He Fang’s avatar. His eyes could see it at any time, and his ears could hear it whenever he wished, with perfect sound quality.
Previously, when Angel City had just begun producing films, music, and short videos, He Fang couldn’t view any of it. So when he tapped open the music charts, he assumed it was probably just for show.
But the moment the musical prelude reached his ears, He Fang froze in place.
The gentle sounds of instruments, the soothing and calm melody slowly unfolded in his ears. Every unexpected note became a miraculous encounter with the world. And when that clear and leisurely female voice entered his ears—soft like a shallow whisper—the female singer used her flawless voice to tell the story of how she, in the apocalypse, gradually crafted a breathtaking legend out of ordinary despair and boundless hopelessness.
This song… was truly beautiful.
He Fang felt like he’d lost control of his strength for a moment. His chair suddenly slipped from underneath him, and he fell straight to the ground. Half-lying there, his eyes were filled with shock.
He could actually listen to songs composed by NPCs in the game?!
He Fang found it hard to believe. He immediately set the game to idle mode, opened his phone, and used a music recognition app to identify the song from “Ruins Without Restart”. It found it!
He Fang could only hear the pounding of his own heart—thump thump thump—but then his eyes suddenly caught the name of the album: “Ruins Without Restart” Original Soundtrack.
There were quite a lot of songs in it. Just one glance down, and it seemed to stretch on endlessly. Then, He Fang noticed that there were many similar albums, all with “Ruins Without Restart” in their titles, and a great number of people had done secondary creations of the songs. There were so many of them.
He Fang suddenly wondered. What on earth had he just been thinking in that moment?
It was entirely possible that these were songs written by the official developers or by players, added into “Ruins Without Restart“ and shared from there. It was also possible that the game really had randomly generated these pieces of music and then uploaded them online. There was nothing strange about that. After all, there were still plenty of people in the world playing “Ruins Without Restart“, even if they weren’t streamers.
He Fang opened the in-game film and television section, and to his surprise, he could watch everything. He even looked some of them up in real life and found the same ones. Apparently, those films and shows were all independently produced.
Thinking about it carefully, it was understandable. After all, the world of “Ruins Without Restart“ was so realistic. It wasn’t surprising that players who enjoyed filming would make use of the highly attractive NPCs in the game to shoot their own shows to suit their personal tastes. Sharing them for others to enjoy is also completely normal.
Just now, he had been wondering why things from inside the game could appear in the real world. But when he thought it over carefully, he realized that it wasn’t all that strange.
He Fang’s main city had been poor for a while, so there were no loans being offered for the time being. But money was still circulating freely among the NPCs. Never once had it dried up. And there were still transactions happening, with people buying houses.
However, several mobile cities had already raised objections, requesting that Hope City and Angel City should no longer continue expanding. They stated that since both Hope City and Angel City were also parties to the Peace Treaty, they too must abide by the land division rules and could not expand at will.
He Fang agreed. Not because he was being overly accommodating, but because the city had already expanded enough. He had no need to seize the land that these mobile cities were eager to claim. Once he had enough money, he could simply expand further into the Nightmare Beast Forest.
Perhaps because of He Fang’s “obedience”, these mobile cities became much more stable. The Peace Treaty had already reached its initial draft, with the finer details still under negotiation.
And among all this, what no one expected to be finished first was the promotional music suite for The Doctrine of the Divine Lord, which Shi Sangtian had requested. The set included three tracks: “Origin”, “Prosperity”, and “Future”, all with lyrics written based on The Doctrine of the Divine Lord. The songs came together very quickly. According to Yuan Sanjin, everyone had been deeply moved after reading The Doctrine of the Divine Lord. They truly came to understand the history of the divine, were greatly touched, and inspiration surged forth like a spring.
In truth, The Doctrine of the Divine Lord was entirely based on He Fang’s actual experiences, only altered slightly. So when he heard them say such things, he didn’t even dare to make a sound, fearing that he might shatter their image of the divine.
The songs were completed, and Xiao Zi sang them with full devotion. He Fang listened to them. They were good. Good. Just good. All three songs on loop, completely brainwashing. He Fang even began to suspect he was being mind-controlled. Because, honestly, strictly speaking, Xiao Zi’s voice didn’t have the unique soft beauty of a human’s tone. It sounded mechanical. But somehow, it was still unbelievably good.
Originally, Yuan Sanjin had considered filming music videos for the three songs, but Zhu Yan vetoed the idea.
Although Xiao Zi’s mental control was quite strong, it had already been significantly reduced after Zhu Yan’s adjustments, reduced by a great deal. If visual interference were added on top of that, it would diminish the effectiveness of Xiao Zi’s songs.
Because these were missionary religious songs, they were distributed under that banner. Terminal merchants were instructed to give the three-part suite away for free, with no need to purchase. Everyone figured: “It’s free anyway, why not?”. And so, they all downloaded it.
He Fang had originally thought that the effect might take some time to manifest, but he hadn’t expected that as long as the music entered a mobile city, it would explode in popularity almost immediately.
Terminal merchants typically stayed in one city for seven days. On the first day, the people who got the three-song suite for free went absolutely crazy. Each one frantically wanting to know who the singer was, who the creators were. If it weren’t for the fact that terminal merchants were NPCs from the main cities, they probably would have been torn to shreds.
To ensure they wouldn’t be affected by these frenzied residents, the terminal merchants built themselves a cage, locking themselves inside just to safely make it through the seven-day stay in each city before moving on to the next one to distribute the music.
By the time one round was completed, it was obvious that this missionary song trilogy had created a massive impact.
Due to the overpowering mental influence of the songs, listeners’ nervous systems were numbed to some degree, inducing a state of excitement. Whether in thought or in action, they displayed signs of happiness and comfort. This effect was a part of the power Zhu Yan had deliberately compressed within the songs from the very beginning.
He Fang met with Zhu Yan several times, asking him to fine-tune the balance, wondering whether Xiao Zi’s power was simply too great, causing the songs’ mental control effect to be too intense.
After Zhu Yan negotiated with Shi Canghai, they confirmed that yes, the effect really was too strong. Because there had been too few test subjects during development, all those who had listened to the songs during production had robust and powerful brains. But for ordinary residents of the mobile cities, it was a bit overwhelming. If they were to make adjustments, then all the terminal merchants would need to be recalled immediately, and the songs would have to be revised and replaced.
However, Shi Canghai said there was no need for any modifications because these were the Divine Lord’s songs. Divine songs and their powerful effects could be entirely attributed to the “god”.
He Fang had wondered whether the excessively strong mental influence might actually harm ordinary residents, so he once again asked Zhu Yan to run tests. The results confirmed that it would not, and in fact, the effects were positive. Regular people who had heard the songs showed improved mental states: better appetite, better sleep, and more energy during the day.
After this confirmation, He Fang finally breathed a sigh of relief. His only lingering worry was whether the city lords of the mobile cities would reject the terminals due to the sudden appearance of a “brainwashing divine song”. But in the end, He Fang’s concern turned out to be unnecessary.
The trilogy had a tangible positive effect on the human body. When people’s spirits were lifted, their enthusiasm at work naturally became much higher than usual, and they even rested better. Added to this was the reverence they felt toward the “divine”. Given the long-standing history of music itself being able to empower people, there was almost no resistance to it.
Even so, He Fang requested that all future songs be adjusted to a more appropriate range. Only this trilogy should possess such powerful effects. Any more would risk disrupting the natural development of music in the entire world.
Now, He Fang had entered the diagnostics room of Rainbow Squad’s Xiao Zi. He looked up at the massive purple light pillar, his gaze flickering slightly. As expected, the lights of the Rainbow Squad could be looked at directly without discomfort. They did not hurt the eyes. In fact, the Rainbow Squad’s true nature was very gentle.
Yuan Zhiran stood beside He Fang, looking at him. “It might be a bit dangerous. You’d better stand farther away.”
He Fang had specially come here today to see whether Xiao Zi’s ability would affect him.
Up until now, He Fang had never encountered a Rainbow Squad member who showed hostility toward him. But then again, he had never had the intention of destroying his own city either.
Now, however, He Fang wanted to see if group-based mental control abilities like those of Rainbow Squad’s Xiao Zi would work on him. After all, as a player, he ought to have some special privileges, right?
“Let’s begin,” He Fang said to Yuan Zhiran beside him.
Yuan Zhiran nodded, raised his hand, and punched the light pole with great force. Just watching that made He Fang wince in pain. If possible, maybe he’d find a way to change the method of summoning the Rainbow Squad in the future. Having to punch someone every time just to summon them, wasn’t that a bit too pitiful? They were the ones seeking help, yet they had to get beaten up for it.
He Fang tilted his head up high and suddenly felt as if all the sounds around him had vanished. It wasn’t just his imagination; they truly had disappeared. The sounds of machinery, the calls of birds and animals in the mountains, and the rustling wind through the trees. Everything was gone. Even when he lifted his hand, the sound of his clothes brushing against his body came through oddly delayed, as if it had taken a long time to reach his ears.
He Fang turned to look at Yuan Zhiran. Yuan Zhiran had frozen in a particular pose. He looked behind him. Everyone observing the situation had also been frozen in place, their expressions fixed at the moment of interruption. Some even had their mouths open in mid-speech, trying to turn and talk to someone beside them. It was comical.
Could it be that time itself had been frozen?
He Fang found it unbelievable. He checked the instruments and discovered that they were still functioning, which meant only the people had been affected and placed under control.
Incredible.
Gradually, He Fang saw Xiao Zi slowly emerging bit by bit from within the light pole glowing with a soft purple radiance. He could see her with his naked eye—and he was stunned.
Xiao Zi, though shaped like a woman, was the embodiment of mech beauty. Her layered, violet armor resembled the flared hem of a princess’s gown—vintage, elaborate, and regal. She had a face possessing the gentle grace unique to human women, yet her facial features weren’t arranged like a human’s. Her eyes were disproportionately large compared to her face, but upon closer inspection, He Fang realized they weren’t really “eyes” at all. Rather, they were a kind of eye-like, uniquely radiant metal. Even as a player, just looking into that metal left him dazzled.
“Hello,” He Fang attempted to speak with Xiao Zi.
Given Xiao Zi’s massive mech form, it wasn’t easy for her to see the tiny He Fang. But upon hearing his voice, she bent down, bringing her knees together, resting both hands atop them, bowing at the waist, and lowering her head to draw near to He Fang. An unmistakably approachable gesture.
And within her enormous, reflective eyes that could mirror his entire figure, He Fang saw his own ordinarily average, unremarkable face… transformed into one with movie-star-level, breathtakingly handsome features.
He Fang: “?”
