Little Pink Starfish

“That is…” Eagle wasn’t stupid. Even though he hadn’t received a quest and had never seen this particular subordinate of Kui Wolf before, he knew the man was already dead. And yet, he could still sense something was off about the scene in front of them.

Pei Sen came over and said softly, “This is a Magic Crystal Illusion Realm.”

In truth, although the illusion realms created by dungeon crystals were meant for players, that didn’t mean the “NPCs”—or rather, the native inhabitants of this world—had never accidentally entered them. To generate a dungeon crystal, one needed a “key” and the exact location. The “key” for this dungeon was the rough wooden stamp.

Usually, more than one key existed for a given dungeon, so later on it was common for multiple parties to possess keys and compete to activate the dungeon by finding the correct spot first.

While activating the dungeon required a bit of effort, entering it was as easy as crushing the crystal. Some NPCs had stumbled into dungeons by accident, either stepping on or shattering a crystal. These natives referred to it as entering a Magic Crystal Illusion Realm.

In their understanding, it was a kind of hidden magical space created by rare invisible crystals. They believed it wasn’t dangerous—on the contrary, with good luck, one might even find a “miraculous encounter.”

Years later, legends spread among the natives about young people who entered these realms by accident and obtained powerful treasures or mysterious abilities. The Church of Light even declared that these special crystals were “Holy Light Crystals”—divine blessings from the god of light.
Of course, the players all knew this was just the church trying to make themselves look good.

From the players’ perspective, this was just a dungeon. If you died inside, you didn’t lose a level—just a bit of gear durability. But if everyone inside died, the dungeon collapsed and disappeared. To try again, you’d have to re-enter via another crystal.

Importantly, once you entered a dungeon, regardless of whether you completed it, you had to wait seven days to try again. All dungeons in Bix Magic Cube had a seven-day cooldown.

Even if your whole team died to mobs and never reached a boss, that still counted. The dungeon disappearing = cooldown started. Unlike in some games, you didn’t need to clear a boss to trigger CD.

And each dungeon had a strict player limit. For example, this Slave Cavern was a small-scale dungeon: max 6 players, min 1. Even though Eagle wasn’t a player, as soon as he entered, Pei Sen received the notification:
“Players in instance: 2.”

He had never brought an “NPC” into a dungeon before. He only knew they could enter, and that even if they weren’t players, if they died inside, they would truly die. NPCs could also acquire items inside, but the mechanics were fuzzy.

Knowing the rules ahead of time, Pei Sen had made the choice to bring Eagle along.

Eagle, unfamiliar with this “Magic Crystal Illusion Realm” concept, looked around suspiciously.
“So this is… a kind of illusory space made by magic?”

Judging by the term, he couldn’t believe this wasn’t the real world—it looked and felt exactly the same.

“Yes,” Pei Sen nodded. “It’s a sealed illusion. For example, if we try to leave the cave, we’ll just circle back here. There’s only one way forward: kill everyone in this cave and rescue the prisoners.”

“But they’re all dead already,” Eagle said, recalling the disturbing CG they’d witnessed.

On the continent of Arli, a magic item similar to a camera existed—it was called a Magic Shadow Stone. Advanced alchemists could craft them, but they were expensive and mostly owned by nobles.

Eagle, being a noble, had heard of them.

That “vision” they’d seen resembled the recordings of Magic Shadow Stones.

“They are dead,” Pei Sen confirmed, watching the Kui Wolf underling walking toward them. “But young master, this is an illusion. It’s not real.”

“So… it’s all fake,” Eagle murmured.

“Exactly.”

“Then what’s the point of doing all this?”

Pei Sen looked at him and smiled. “Because in here—we can grow stronger.”

Before he finished speaking, Pei Sen stepped forward, pulled out a long staff, and fired an ice blade at the man labeled “Jekko” over his head.

His storage-account inventory was mostly full of high-level gear—useless now because they had level requirements. The only suitable weapon he had was a mediocre level-40 staff with no special effects.

Not ideal, but better than nothing.

Rela’s Staff

• Level: 40
• Physical ATK: 25–35
• Magic ATK: 135–155
• Special: No level restriction
• Durability: 400

It had no bonuses, but at least it worked.

Pei Sen had recently advanced from Apprentice to Novice Mage, meaning he could now use true magic spells—not just “basic” ones like Beginner Ice Blade, which was more of a crude model.

Real D-rank spells like Ice Blade, Fireball, Thunderclap, Wind Arrow, and Earth Shield became available to true mages. By C-rank, spells got even more powerful.

The game’s magic system was incredibly diverse—there were hundreds of variations even within a single elemental branch like ice. Most native mages devoted their lives to mastering one type. Dual-element specialists were rare prodigies.

For instance, Kesso was an elite ice specialist, and the Kingdom of Esmia was known for having the most advanced ice magic systems in the world. Even the assassin who’d tried to kill Eagle was an ice mage—no surprise, since five out of ten top Esmian mages were ice users.

Pei Sen, being a mage player, knew all this well. In later stages, fire-magic fans would travel to Bonfrese—Eagle’s mother’s homeland—which was famous for fire spells.

The game encouraged diversity: no two players had the exact same skill set.

Even swordsmen didn’t have fixed skills. Take Sadin, an 8-star swordsman—his techniques were unique to him. His disciples couldn’t fully replicate his sword style.

So just as “no two people are the same,” neither were their sword techniques.

That said, players were different. If the prerequisites were met, they could “copy and paste” NPC sword styles—technically “learned skills.” Still, due to variety, even swordsman players rarely shared identical builds.

Pei Sen, though primarily a mage, wasn’t focused on mastering a specific element. With the right models, he could learn any spell. Players had the advantage of flexible systems.

From the magic book Kesso gave him, everything was ice-elemental. He had no choice but to learn them.

Fortunately, ice spells were solid—he had confidence in clearing this dungeon.

Currently, Pei Sen was level 20, and this dungeon seemed around that level. But since he had no party, it would be a solo run—meaning tougher fights.

The first Ice Blade hit Jekko in the throat—drawing blood. As he opened his mouth to scream, the second Ice Blade silenced him by severing his vocal cords.

This kind of precise execution was nearly impossible for most players—but in later years, dungeons almost required teams to bring a Mute Mage, someone skilled at preventing enemies from calling for reinforcements.

There were even recruitment calls like: “LF mute-mage for clean dungeon run. No CD black runs.”
Eventually, the nickname morphed into “Eunuch with a Knife” due to the silencing nature—much to the dismay of serious mute-mage players.

Technically, clerics who learned the divine spell Silence could also mute enemies—but the cleric class in Bix Magic Cube was so complex and difficult that almost no one played it.

It required real-world faith and devotion to divine incantations—most players simply couldn’t wrap their heads around it.

Because hey—it’s just a game, right? Why take religion seriously?

Back to Pei Sen: his precise, rapid double-cast silenced the enemy and killed him.

In Bix Magic Cube, dungeon NPCs weren’t dumb—they responded to noise. Had Jekko screamed, more enemies would’ve been drawn in. And no matter how strong Pei Sen was, he couldn’t take on a mob alone.

Frost froze the blood in Jekko’s throat. He stumbled, unsure whether to retreat or attack. As a level-1 swordsman—technically “supernatural”—he wasn’t quite dead yet.

But he turned to flee.

Pei Sen anticipated this. He cast Ice Arrow, slower than Ice Blade but deadlier. It pierced Jekko’s unarmored back, striking true. Down he went.

First enemy, dead in seconds.

Eagle stared at Pei Sen, seeing a side of him he’d never seen before—sharp, powerful, dangerous.

“You seem… different,” he said.

At the moment the man fell, something had entered Eagle’s body—a warmth that spread through him.

Pei Sen glanced at his XP bar. That mob gave him 500 EXP—not much for his level, but for someone like Eagle (essentially level 10 or below), it was a huge boost.

“Do you feel warm?” Pei Sen asked.

“Yes.”

That was normal. For non-player characters, this “experience” entered as pure energy—transforming into magic potential or battle aura.

That’s why some natives who stumbled into dungeons really did become legends—“miracle encounters,” people said.

For players, it was just EXP. For natives, it was power itself.

Even Pex, the useless cat, leveled up—from level 2 to 4—just from standing around.

Pex stared at his paws, spun in a circle, and scratched at the ground.

Did… did I just get stronger by doing nothing?!

Maybe this new owner wasn’t so bad?

But no. Pex had no ambition. He just wanted to be a lazy, spoiled noble’s pet.

Deeper they went. Pex shrank behind Eagle, trying to be invisible. Eagle, meanwhile, wondered if he should try casting some apprentice spells—he couldn’t just be dead weight.

So when Pei Sen killed the next mob, Eagle darted in and landed the finishing blow—then looked proudly at him like, Praise me!

Pei Sen smiled, “You’re amazing, young master.”

“Of course!” Eagle beamed.

Meanwhile, Pex continued being a scaredy-cat.

Around the corner, they encountered another of Kui Wolf’s men—with a vicious guard dog.

Pex shrieked, fluffed up like a pompom, and tried to climb Eagle in terror.

The dog, sensing Pex’s Shadow Cat lineage (i.e., magical beast), also trembled and clawed at the ground to flee.

Pei Sen: “…”

Five skills, and you’re scared of a dog?!

He tossed the fat cat forward, “Kill it! That’s an order!”

The dog wasn’t even magical—it just looked scary. Pex should’ve dominated easily.

Instead, the cat screamed and ran.

Eagle ended up killing the dog.

Pei Sen sighed, “I think I should give you back your cat, young master. It doesn’t fit me at all.”

Eagle had already lost interest in this humiliating furball. “No thanks. I said it’s yours.”

Thirty minutes in, they reached the dungeon’s depths—and met the first boss: Kui Wolf himself.

Pei Sen had guessed Kui Wolf would be a boss—but being the first one meant there were others. Stronger ones.

He speculated the next boss might be someone from Arzi Town—possibly the mayor.

It couldn’t be Wallis—too strong, and unlikely to appear in a mid-level dungeon.

Eagle squinted, “That’s Kui Wolf… looks different.”

Indeed. This version of Kui Wolf was strong, proud, still a level-2 swordsman—not the broken man players tortured to death in the main storyline.

Pei Sen nodded respectfully. “Young master, please step back. I’ll handle him.”

Ten minutes later, Kui Wolf was dead.
His body vanished, replaced by a glowing golden chest.

Eagle blinked. “What’s that?”

“Unique loot from the illusion realm,” Pei Sen explained.

He opened the chest—delighted by the first-kill rewards.

Loot scaled to your party’s class composition. Since Pei Sen was a mage, it was all mage gear: robe, weapon, items, scrolls, and a glittering ice-element magic crystal.

Normally, a dungeon boss dropped up to four items. This one dropped eight. Including a purple-grade spell scroll, which should never drop in a level-20 dungeon—unless it was a first kill.

“Let’s finish the dungeon and look at these later,” Pei Sen said.

“Alright,” Eagle replied. He wasn’t greedy—robes and staves he could buy anytime. But that strange energy inside him… that, he craved.

Pei Sen checked the forum. Uh-oh.

Those two players? They’d already shared the quest with way too many people.

Things were spiraling out of control.

If he and Eagle didn’t get back soon, Sadin might actually kill him.

Golden Rose Manor was likely overrun by curious players by now. Kara and Linni had probably discovered their disappearance.

Pei Sen was starting to regret giving the quest to those two friendly goofs.

Did you really have to share it with everyone?!

What if hundreds… or thousands… of players stormed the manor?

Pei Sen shivered.