Chapter 17: Forming Team

Su Luo dove into the forums, her fingers dancing across the screen as she searched for anything about portable storage spaces.

Instantly, a flood of results popped up.

She clicked the first thread, her curiosity piqued.  

[The system’s portable storage is just there to mess with you.]  

[First Floor]: “What’s this portable storage thing?” 

[Second Floor]: “First Floor, you’re hopeless.”  

[Original poster]: “After my second dungeon run, I stumbled into the system shop by chance and saw it—a portable storage space! But when I checked my points, buying it would’ve left me so broke that dying in the next game would’ve been game over for real. So, I held off, planning to save up. But guess what? By the time I cleared my third dungeon and checked again, it was gone!”  

Su Luo’s eyes scanned the thread, her heart racing with a mix of amusement and dread.  

[Third Floor]: “Noted! I just cleared my first test dungeon.”  

[Fourth Floor]: “Jealous! I didn’t even know about this.”  

[Original poster]: “Doesn’t matter. The game doesn’t leave loopholes that big for latecomers.”  

[Seventh Floor]: “Off to my second dungeon! Wish me luck.”  

[Eighteenth Floor]: “Waiting for the update.”  

[Nineteenth Floor]: “I’m back.”  

[Twentieth Floor]: “Dude, don’t leave us hanging! Spill it like the OP did!”  

Su Luo smirked at the impatience in the replies, but her attention sharpened as the thread took a darker turn.  

[Eleventh Floor]: “Honestly, it’s disgusting, just like the OP said. The game somehow wiped my memory of the portable storage. I didn’t even open the system shop before I was kicked out. Only after I left did it all come rushing back.”  

[Twelfth Floor]: “Classic system move.”  

[Original poster]: “Oh, you think that’s bad? It gets worse. Only those who hit their second dungeon in the first month can even see the portable storage. By the second month, even if it’s your second run, it’s gone.”  

Su Luo’s breath caught.

The system was ruthless.  

[Thirteenth Floor]: “What?! That’s brutal.”  

[Fourteenth reply]: “Look on the bright side—I’m out of the running, so at least no one else gets a shot either. Keeps us all on the same starting line.”  

[Fifteenth Floor]: “Damn, that’s… actually a good point!”  

Relief washed over Su Luo.

Thank the stars she’d snagged her portable storage.

The next dungeon might be a nightmare without points to spare, but without that space, she’d be screwed when her inventory inevitably overflowed.

She needed to check with Ji Hei.

Tapping out a quick message—”Portable storage?”—she barely waited a minute before his reply lit up her screen: “Got it.”  

Her shoulders relaxed.

Sharing a storage space with Ji Hei would’ve been fine, but having her own was infinitely better.  

Monday arrived, and Su Luo showed up right on time.

It wasn’t her first meeting with Ji Hei, but his striking looks still hit her like a punch to the gut.

She admitted it—she was jealous, and maybe a little guilty for it.  

Ji Hei, oblivious to the storm of envy in her head, stood with a gentleman’s grace to greet her.

“Hey, I’m Yun Feibai.”  

“I’m Su Luo,” she replied, then, unable to resist, added, “Your name… and your game tag…”  

“Feibai, Ji Hei—black and white, get it?” He flashed a grin.  

She chuckled.

His name had a clever twist she hadn’t expected.  

They settled into a quiet corner of the café, Yun Feibai waiting for her to sit before asking, “What’ll you have?”  

“Water’s fine,” Su Luo said without hesitation.

Free water, as the sign at the entrance had promised.  

Yun Feibai’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he ordered two glasses of plain water, ignoring the waiter’s knowing, slightly pitying glance.

The café was deserted, and when Yun Feibai waved the waiter off, the man offered a soundproof screen.

Yun Feibai nodded.  

As the screen was set up, Su Luo leaned in and asked, “How many props did you grab?”  

“Two,” he said, his tone casual.

“The rest were useless.”  

She nodded.

Probably the perfume and the pill.

Smart choices.  

Once the soundproof screen was in place, Yun Feibai cut straight to the chase.

“I ask, you answer? Anything I miss, you can ask after.”  

Su Luo nodded.

“Perfect evaluation?”  

“Yup.”  

“Weapon? I’m a dagger guy.”  

“Sword.”  

“Legendary talent?”  

“Yup.”  

“Going for a legendary goal?”  

“Yup.”  

“Hidden class?”  

“Yup.”  

Yun Feibai gave a satisfied nod.

“That’s all from me. Your turn.”  

Su Luo tilted her head and said, “Q University, history department.”  

His brows shot up.

“Q University, computer science.”  

She grinned, extending her hand.

“Happy teaming?”  

He clasped her hand, his smile mirroring hers.

“Happy teaming.”  

With the basics covered, Su Luo hesitated, then spoke.

“I… don’t want to team up just yet.”  

Yun Feibai’s brow furrowed and said, “Why not? The Sooner we team-up, the better .”  

She sighed, explaining, “Ever since I landed on this continent, we’ve been matched together. I want to see what happens if I go solo for once.”  

He nodded, understanding dawning.

He’d considered the same, but his confidence in his own strength made him see their partnership as a bonus, not a crutch.

Su Luo, it seemed, wasn’t so sure of herself.  

“Fine,” he said.

“You go in tomorrow, I’ll go the day after. We team up when I’m out?”  

She nodded and said, “Deal. Want to swap some background info?”  

They avoided sharing stat panels because it was too risky without an official team bond but chatting about their pasts felt safe enough.  

Su Luo kept it brief and said, “I’m an orphan. No ties on this continent. Decent at fighting, I guess.”  

That was an understatement.

After a brutal beatdown from a bigger kid years ago, she’d drained her savings for professional fighting lessons.

Now, she could take down five grown men without breaking a sweat.  

“My past’s a bit more… colorful,” Yun Feibai said, his voice calm but heavy with the weight of experience.

“I was the heir to a big family. At fourteen, we went bankrupt. I hit rock bottom. Built myself back up, bit by bit. Now, I’ve got a little something going.”  

Su Luo nodded, sensing the unspoken struggle.

A family like that didn’t just go bankrupt—someone had likely sabotaged them.

His rise from the ashes, especially so young, was nothing short of remarkable.

She admired him, knowing she couldn’t have done the same.  

And yet, there was more to it.

The first time she’d seen him, she’d felt it—an undeniable aura of refinement, unshaken by years of hardship.

His “little something” was probably a massive understatement.  

Part of her wanted to tease him, ask if he’d ever been through a cliché “disowned heir” drama, maybe even a broken engagement.

But she bit her tongue.

If he could read her thoughts, he’d probably throttle her.  

“I’ve got no ties here either,” he continued.

“No relatives under eighteen back in my old world.”  

It felt oddly like a blind date, but Su Luo was satisfied.

He was solid, reliable.  

The meeting went smoothly, and soon they were poring over the system interface, checking the team-up rules.  

[Team-Up Guidelines]:  

[1. First team-up is free. Additional team-ups cost 20 points.]  

[2. If one teammate clears a dungeon, the whole team clears. One teammate’s stat points are shared with the team.]  

[3. Points can be traded between teammates.]  

[Note: Points cannot be transferred otherwise.]  

[4. To disband a team, pay 10 points and clear the Heart-Probing Dungeon. Fail the dungeon, and you die for real.]  

Su Luo couldn’t deny it—the perks were incredible.

The game clearly wanted players to team up.

The Heart-Probing Dungeon was a mystery, but when they searched the forums, the reviews were suspiciously glowing.  

Yun Feibai mused, “Seems like those who passed breezed through. And those who didn’t…”  

“…are dead,” Su Luo finished.

“From the name, I’m guessing if you’ve got guilt in your heart, you’re done for.”  

The system took teaming seriously, offering massive benefits but punishing betrayal harshly.

It was perfect—ensuring neither side could screw the other over.

They were in this together, sink or swim.  

Confident in each other’s smarts, they moved on to values.

Yun Feibai went first and said, “Unless it’s a matter of principle, I prioritize benefits. Stat points over points.”  

Su Luo nodded and replied, “Same. I don’t hurt people unless I have to. But cross me, and I’ll make you regret it.”  

His eyes glinted with approval.

“We’ll get along just fine.”  

Su Luo walked home buzzing with satisfaction.

In a life-or-death game, finding a reliable teammate was pure gold.

If there was anything better, it was knowing your teammate wasn’t too perfect.  

Sprawled on her bed, she flicked on the TV.

A cheesy drama was playing, but its dungeon-inspired twist caught her interest.

The system, personified as a dashing male lead, whisked the naïve heroine through a game world.

Su Luo thought of her own system—silent, unhelpful, and utterly useless by comparison.

Staring at the TV’s flamboyant hero, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Human imagination was truly something else.