The devs didn’t drop a new event the moment the Goddess pageant ended; they let the server breathe like a beach after the tide pulls back.

They carved a lull, a white fog between hills, so everyone could cool down; at the same time, they teased parts of the next major update, scattering breadcrumbs like sparrows on frost for players to prep.

Thanks to early whispers from Moonlit West River, Nana Toki wasn’t surprised when players came fluttering like moths to ask for a team-up.

[World] I’m Cute Please Give Me Money: “Treasure wifey, can we team for the next version and grind? We’ll split the loot!”

[World] Treasure Imp: “I already promised Moonlit West River. You’re late. And don’t call me wifey, or I’ll drop you into my blacklist. /Threat”

Ever since the pageant ended, the list of players Nana Toki blacklisted had piled up like fallen leaves; she was numb as winter bark.

All of them were “gentlemen” who, useless as damp matches, still tried to flirt with the champion.

[World] I’m Cute Please Give Me Money: “QAQ hey, why team with those stinky Moonlit West River guys? Isn’t girl–girl squad sweeter?”

[World] Please Come To Work Tomorrow: “Shocking—since when did those Moonlit West River punks have shady dealings with our wifey?”

Some tried to milk cuteness like a kitten pawing at cream to get perks. But—

[Ding—System Notice: ■■ “Treasure Imp” has set player “Please Come To Work Tomorrow” as Nemesis. Lifelong feud, to the bitter end.]

Nana Toki only gave a few female players a sliver of moonlight as a privilege.

[World] Please Come To Work Tomorrow: “?”

As expected, the men felt sore, like bruised fruit under a summer sun.

[World] Full Of Warm Buff: “Moonlit West River, get out here and take your beating! You made a shady side deal with our server’s chief wifey, and got everyone else shoved into the blacklist!”

[World] This Name’s Hard To Pick: “?”

How’s this their fault? They were catching stray arrows like reeds in a sudden storm.

[World] This Name’s Hard To Pick: “What do you mean Treasure Imp’s hooking up with our Moonlit West River people?”

[World] Naming Is So Hard: “It’s just dealings with our guild leader, that’s all.”

[World] Hard To Pick This Name: “To be fair, yeah. Suggest we flog our own guild leader’s corpse; Moonlit West River as a whole has nothing to do with it. He’s the one who played you.”

[World] Never Give Up: “?”

Lurking in the world channel like a fox in tall grass, Never Give Up had been enjoying the show; then the thorn pricked.

Great—those three brats sold out their guild leader that cleanly; where was the law, where was his face like a lacquered mask?

He was a guild leader in the server’s top hundred; did his authority mean nothing, like paper in the rain?

Fine. No more low profile; he straightened his feathers like a proud crane.

[World] Never Give Up: “Sorry, I’m handsome and suave, a jade tree in the wind. If I end up linked with Treasure Imp, it really isn’t my fault.”

[World] Treasure Imp: “? Aren’t we just collaborating? What’s that got to do with hooking up?”

Surfacing like a koi breaking water, Nana Toki popped his puffed-up act with a single tap.

[World] Soft Spring Rain: “Haha, wifey upstairs spoke truth.”

[World] Want A Big Ivan?: “Sudden face-slap. Bro, that stings.”

[World] Never Give Up: “......”

This NPC gave no face, like cold moonlight on a bare blade.

Flexing was fine, but only this little Imp got to flex under her own lantern.

[Private] Treasure Imp: “Did the officials already drop parts of the next version’s event?”

She checked the server time; anticipation hummed like cicadas in heat.

As expected, the dev announcement rolled out like a scroll unfurling in a temple breeze.

[Private] Never Give Up: “Yeah, just now. Want the details?”

[Private] Treasure Imp: “Make it quick.”

Never Give Up paused, feeling her words scrape closer to human heat, less NPC frost by the day; he sent screenshots quietly, like sliding papers across a desk.

Hmm?

[Hundred Ghosts’ Samsara: Side Story]

Nana Toki looked at the title and froze for a heartbeat, like a lantern flame flickering in a draft.

Wasn’t this the Hundred Ghosts from the test server files?

She muttered under her breath, a thin thread of doubt coiling like smoke; the plot seemed to drift off the path again.

She read on, carrying her question like a pebble in her palm.

She quickly found the core: the “Side Story” was built from online fabrications, straw fables braided by the net, which the devs turned into a brand-new event.

The backdrop sat three years after Hundred Ghosts; because the Shadow Clan was annihilated, a curse washed over this server like black rain, capping everyone at level seventy.

To break the Shadow Clan’s curse, players here had to run a chain of event tasks, sharpening themselves like whetstone against steel, and finally shatter the seal to earn the right to breach level eighty-five.

The setup had flavor, like tea with a hint of smoke.

To stoke the fire, the devs tucked in easter eggs from Hundred Ghosts, glittering like pebbles in a riverbed.

Nana Toki’s interest stirred like plum blossoms in late snow; she read deeper. The easter egg reward was a golden legendary growth weapon that could stand toe-to-toe with Thorn—said to be the Shadow Clan’s last treasure.

It oozed prestige like lacquer and gold; almost the moment she finished the screenshots, the world channel was already boiling like a hotpot over charcoal about the coming [Hundred Ghosts’ Samsara: Side Story].

[World] Loves Lamb Skewers: “The level-unlock event next version is set so well! I just searched old open-beta info on Hundred Ghosts and found so many eerie bits.”

[World] Punch Through A Wall: “Yeah, players trapped in the game is wild. But it’s all old online fiction, no real source. Treat it like a short fantasy read.”

[World] Don’t Tell Ghost Stories: “Hoo, made me nervous. Even if it’s made up, it feels scary. Being stuck in-game? I don’t even dare imagine.”

[World] Palace Lord, Not A Princess: “Did you see the easter egg reward? That weapon’s stats can go fifty–fifty with Treasure Imp’s Thorn!”

[World] Lazy Casual Reporting In: “Quit dreaming. The notice says hunting eggs takes real power. Even if found, only aces get them. Let’s just run tasks.”

[World] Rolling Beaded Curtain: “Exactly! Daily confession to my ace, even if they can’t see me.”

[World] Cherry Bomb: “Upstairs boy-mom still hasn’t stopped chasing the ace?! /Shock /Shock”

“......”

Nana Toki lingered a moment like mist over water; when the salted chatter drifted off into weeds, she closed the chat window and asked Moonlit West River for the full docs, like fetching a complete map before a journey.

Never Give Up’s screenshots were limited; she wanted a full sweep of the weather. She had no wish to repeat the last plane’s ill-prep, a thorn she’d already pulled out.

[Nearby] This Name’s Hard To Pick: “Did you really make some unspeakable side deal with our guild leader?”

After handing over every scroll she had to the little loli before her, the three-name trio in Giant Lizard Forest spoke up, words nudging like a toe at soft mud.

“?”

Accepting the scroll they offered, Nana Toki looked at the three from Moonlit West River like peering at three fools under a sunhat. “You don’t think I have designs on your guild leader, do you?”

[Nearby] This Name’s Hard To Pick: “No.”

[Nearby] Naming Is So Hard: “Impossible.”

[Nearby] Hard To Pick This Name: “Even if you’re an NPC, I trust your eye.”

Nana Toki: “......”

These three were sharp as vinegar, and just as biting.

“We’re just curious why a big-shot NPC would lower herself to help Moonlit West River run events.”

This Name’s Hard To Pick swept a look up and down Nana Toki like checking a blade’s temper. “NPCs don’t chase money or lust. I can’t figure how our leader could buy you. There are stronger guilds than us in-game, yet you picked us. We do care.”

“You suspect I have designs on that idiot?” Nana Toki read their wind and rain with a slight tilt of voice.

“......”

“You know you’re not like ordinary NPCs. Our leader’s simple heart lets him trust you; he can’t help it. But as friends, we can’t be that naive.”

As the words fell like stones in a pond, the trio’s aura snapped—faces stayed lazy as cats on a warm wall, but their edges flared like hidden knives.

The slouch felt like a mask; the true grain beneath was hard to read, like tracks in moonlight.

“Are you threatening me?” Nana Toki’s face chilled, frost crawling over the rim; she hated threats like grit in tea.

“No. Just a normal conversation.”

“Is that so?”

Nana Toki’s smile curled eerie, like a crescent over dark water. “If I do have designs on that idiot, can you stop me?”