Chapter 53: Shadows of Conflict

The retaliation from the great families came swiftly.

In the blink of an eye, Rein lost one of his rooms.

It happened almost exactly the way he had orchestrated his earlier success.

A spy within Rein’s group had leaked all the information to the great families.

Although Rein had prepared for such a scenario, the great families moved even faster than he anticipated.

They struck when the room’s defenses were at their weakest, with only a small team invading.

The invaders were from the great families.

Against the strength of just five individuals, everything crumbled.

Unable to overcome the disparity in power, Rein quickly abandoned that room and focused his efforts on the remaining ones.

***

The conflict didn’t remain confined to the second floor.

Once the great families ascended, they began exerting influence even on the first floor, which they had previously ignored.

This was solely to weaken Rein’s faction.

Thus, a war began.

While the two sides fought, the mercenaries profited greatly.

Both factions paid significant sums to keep them neutral, knowing that the balance would collapse if they took sides.

As time passed, the war dragged on.

Both sides frequently bribed students to steal information from the opposing group’s bulletin boards.

False information and fake plans flooded the boards in attempts to deceive the enemy.

An intense information war unfolded.

Both factions fought fiercely to gain the upper hand in this battle of intel, which often escalated into real-world confrontations.

Although Rein had anticipated such developments, he hadn’t expected the fervor to last even after two months.

The professor, however, seemed thoroughly entertained.

Just like now.

Irien, the professor, leaned against her table, inspecting numerous mirror bugs floating before her.

These bugs reflected the secret bulletin boards of the respective groups.

Each day, she would check the contents when I visited her.

She even let the groups know that she was observing their boards.

‘Come to think of it, that might be why the war has persisted. It was a rare chance to capture the professor’s attention, after all.’

Regardless, it was a good thing for me.

Watching the ongoing war seemed to revive the professor’s enthusiasm.

The lethargy she once displayed was nowhere to be seen.

She even seemed inspired to recreate such battles in the treasure hunt.

In her last lecture, she designed a massive battlefield, ensuring that only the last surviving group would challenge the treasure.

Thus began the twelfth treasure hunt.

The great families emerged victorious from that war.

However, they suffered significant losses in the process, making them easy prey for the treasure, “The Bleeding Fang.”

***

The professor picked up the last cookie from the plate and ate it before reclining in her chair.

A deeply satisfied smile spread across her face.

I approached her and bowed.

Lunch had come to an end.

“Then, I’ll take my leave now,” I said.

The professor nodded.

I carefully exited the floor.

Another session of hosting was over.

‘Perhaps I can enjoy a brief moment of peace.’

Stretching my body, I headed to the workshop.

There, a shadowy figure was crafting dolls in front of a floating mirror bug.

Sensing my presence, it turned to look at me.

“Zero-One, did anything come up while I was away?”

The figure shook its head and resumed working on the doll.

I glanced at it—a grotesque creation with about twenty legs.

‘Well, everyone has their preferences.’

Smirking, I quietly stepped back.

“If you need assistance, send a message to my mirror bug. I’ll assign more shadow dolls to manage the bulletin boards,” I added.

Zero-One nodded.

Things had been relatively calm lately, so it could handle the tasks alone.

During the initial influx of people, things were chaotic.

The three bulletin boards were like battlefields.

Conflicts erupted dozens of times daily.

Members attacked one another through defamatory posts, scams, and traps to throw opponents into crises.

Even impersonation through fake names was rampant.

‘None of this helped me grow.’

I had established the boards to accumulate knowledge and experience, not to turn them into warzones.

Thus, I made Zero-One the administrator of the boards.

It was the only one I trusted to handle the task.

Leaving it to others wasn’t an option.

Other wizards would inevitably exploit their authority for personal gain, and the personalities I created weren’t competent enough to manage everything.

Zero-One cleaned up the boards systematically.

Those who posted malicious content to defame others received warnings.

Repeat offenders were banned outright.

Scammers, however, were immediately blocked without warning.

Fraud was the most severe issue and required strict measures.

Banned individuals were only allowed to return after agreeing not to bring group disputes into the boards.

Through such measures, rules were established.

Violating these rules resulted in warnings or bans.

The regulations were simple—register with your real name, avoid dragging in group matters, and don’t commit fraud.

These minor rules kept the boards from becoming lawless zones.

Finally, a semblance of peace returned.

***

Leaning back in a recliner enchanted with soothing magic in the workshop, I relaxed.

The enchantments worked wonders on my body as I let out a soft sigh.

The mirror bug floated from my chest and hovered near me.

“Open the free board,” I instructed.

The free board had become far more active than I had imagined.

Information and trading boards operated more like shops, so interactions were minimal.

Everything on those boards required points, after all.

They flocked to the free board, which could be used without any cost.

There, they began writing and reading a variety of posts.

Some shared trivial aspects of their daily lives, while others posted information too insignificant to belong on the information board.

Through this exchange, they accumulated a wealth of information.

The atmosphere on the free board resembled the lively buzz of a city tavern.

I started reading the posts, one by one.

***

[Nadia: We’ve developed the most optimal route from Stalactite City to here in just six hours! Detailed instructions are posted on the information board, so be sure to check it out. This achievement is courtesy of our “Safe Hiking Club” and is much safer and easier than the eight-hour route we provided last time.]

[Luca: A passing monster would laugh at this. Are you trying to scam people again?

┗Nadia: Why are you picking a fight? We’ve never deceived anyone.

┗Luca: Never deceived? I nearly died taking your route last time.

┗Nadia: Maybe you didn’t read the contract carefully? Our paths only last for about a week.

┗Luca: Wow, and you charge 100 points for such a route? Are you kidding?

[Nadia: If you’re not satisfied, let’s settle this. Meet me in the central hall on the first floor.

[Luca: Fine, 100 points. Let’s see who wins.]

***

[Cassian: Look at this adorable teddy bear. Day 56.

[Picture of a teddy bear rolling]

[Picture of a teddy bear hanging from a tree]

[Picture of a teddy bear sitting on a chair]

[Isn’t it cute?]

[Hao: Is this supposed to be cute?

┗Cassian: Meet me in the central hall on the second floor. I can’t forgive anyone insulting my teddy bear.

[Hao: I was just asking.]

┗Cassian: If you don’t come, I’ll find you myself.

[Hao: It’s cute. Really cute. Please stop. He’s actually coming!]

***

[Goro: Encountered a strong monster today while on the way here. It’s in a cave on the southern mountainside. Be careful, everyone. These are some other monsters I ran into on the way.

[Picture of a man stepping on a fallen bear, grinning]

[Picture of a man flexing his upper body muscles]

[Picture of a man holding a sword with intense focus]

┗Omon: Whoa, thought you were the monster for a second.

┗Goro: Don’t you think that’s a bit much, even for someone from the great families?

┗Omon: How’s it my fault you look like that?

┗Goro: I won’t let this slide. Meet me in the central hall on the second floor. Duel me.

[Omon: Sure, sounds like a good warm-up. I’ll head there now.]

***

[Yuna: Accidentally absorbed too much magic while sleeping yesterday and got fined—100 points! This is why I hate sleeping outdoors. Be careful not to absorb too much magic while camping. Honestly, I only took a little; how did they even know?]

[Mauro: Did you sleep in the western mountains last night?]

[Yuna: Yes, why?]

[Mauro: Oh, thanks.]

[Yuna: Huh?]

[Mauro: I got a 50-point reward for reporting it.]

[Yuna: Meet me in the central hall on the first floor. I’ll tear you apart 50 times.]

[Mauro: You won’t even manage once. Let’s see you there.]

***

The posts continued endlessly.

Reading them made me laugh.

Although things often escalated into fights, it was relatively peaceful compared to yesterday, when twenty people got into an argument that ended in a brawl.

The central halls on each floor were now frequently used as dueling arenas, with people even placing bets on the fights.

The professor occasionally watched these battles herself.

Regardless, the steady accumulation of information nourished my shadow tree.

It absorbed the incomplete consciousness embedded in the data, enriching itself.

But this also caused issues.

“Switch to the trading board,” I instructed.

The mirror bug shifted its display to the trading board.

I checked my post there—no replies.

Despite updating it daily for nearly a month, there was no response.

I let out a wry smile.

It seemed I wouldn’t find what I needed here.

I would have to head to the city.

Time was running out.

Information was piling up too quickly, faster than I had anticipated.

It wasn’t entirely unexpected.

I had only reached the level of a young tree less than a year ago.

As such, the capacity of my shadow tree wasn’t very large.

My original plan was to gradually gather people and expand its domain, but Rein’s disruptions led to an overabundance of mirror bugs being distributed too quickly.

The influx of information exceeded what my tree could process.

I needed a new storage space capable of holding vast amounts of data.

I tried commissioning others and seeking information, but no solutions came.

It was likely that no one among the first- and second-floor students knew the answer.

Ultimately, I’d have to go to the city.

[Evron: In one week, all boards will be closed for two days. I’ll be away on a trip to the city. Thank you for your understanding.]

I posted the notice on the free board as a pinned message for everyone to see.

Soon, the mirror bug began vibrating rapidly—comments were pouring in.

Closing my eyes, I sank deeper into the chair.

‘Should I take a quick nap? No need to check those replies now.’