Conquering OtherWorld Starts With a Game - Chapter 178.2: Feed Mill

Elsewhere, Viscount Darcy’s granddaughter, Gina Darcy, was sitting quietly in an inn on Weisshem’s main street, awaiting an audience with Charles Rex.

At an age full of curiosity, Gina might have explored unfamiliar streets elsewhere, but Weisshem was too intimidating a place for such ventures.

It wasn’t just her. The accompanying steward, maids, and coachmen didn’t dare venture out of the inn, and all just stayed put.

The reason was simple. The unsettling sight of skeletal undead casually passing by on the streets was too much for those unaccustomed to such sights.

After three days confined in the cramped inn, Young Miss Gina finally received word that Charlie Rex would see her.

In the town hall’s reception room, Young Miss Gina met… Charlie Rex, whose tanned skin and closely cropped hair bore no resemblance to the rumors about him.

Staring at the young man who contradicted the image of “Charlie Rex” she’d heard about, Gina was speechless for a full thirty seconds.

“It’s a pleasure to have you visit Weisshem, Miss Gina,” Rex said, his demeanor polite and friendly. “I’m sorry, but I cannot accept the gifts from Viscount Darcy. Please convey my apologies to your grandfather.”

With that curt rejection, the busy Rex hurried away.

Young Miss Gina sat dumbfounded as the accompanying steward, unwilling to give up, chased after Rex only to stop at the sight of him conversing with two undead in the corridor. Returning with a look of indignation, the steward exclaimed, “This man is so rude! What do we do now, Miss Gina?”

Gina stiffly shook her head, remaining unmoving.

Being rejected was something Miss Gina had considered; she knew her appearance wasn’t particularly charming.

And from Charlie Rex’s reaction (if he indeed was Charles Rex), it seemed he had little interest in marrying into Indahl nobility.

Gina Darcy, often overlooked within the Darcy family, was no naive girl. Growing up in a noble household, only the foolish lacked the acumen for strategic marriages.

“It appears Grandfather’s hopes might be dashed,” Gina muttered softly to herself.

As a young lady of a viscount family, Gina’s reception in Weisshem was considered less than warm. She stayed in a civilian inn recommended by a town hall clerk without any special treatment during her wait. Even in the town hall, no clerk or officer paid her any special regard; everyone treated her as just another ordinary visitor.

Gina was accustomed to being ignored in her own family, but since she was representing her grandfather, she found the indifference in Weisshem particularly striking… It was clear that the people of Weisshem cared little for Indahl nobility!

Instinct told her that something wasn’t right, but Gina couldn’t pinpoint what it was. At this moment, a commotion outside jolted her.

Before she could turn over and look, her maid’s terrified whisper and the steward’s shocked retreat caught her attention.

The sight outside the reception room explained their reactions—the odd mound in the courtyard flashed continuously with white light, from which undead emerged one after another…

Gina paled, clutching the arms of her chair and rising slowly.

The number of undead in the courtyard was increasing.

“Could it be… today?” Her heart raced, and her breathing got labored. “Is today… the day Weisshem attacks Indahl?!”

In the hallway outside the reception room, Rex, who had just coldly refused Miss Gina, was rubbing his temples.

“So, Yang has spun my tale into a narrative for all the undead, hasn’t he?” Rex grappled with the revelation.

“Indeed,” Ji Tang affirmed with a note of sympathy. “He even took liberties with the tale, suggesting you suffered at the hands of the Rex family and that your mother’s demise was entwined with… domestic strife, among other fabrications.”

“It’s fine, Rex,” Zhao Zhenzhen offered consolation. “While our kin require a justifiable cause to undertake meaningful endeavors, the intricacies of such a pretext matter little to most.”

Her observation was sound; indeed, the majority of players harbored little interest in the storyline—so long as there were monsters to defeat and treasures to claim, they were content.

“How does my background qualify as a legitimate pretext?” Rex couldn’t help but feel bemused at the irony.

Exchanging glances, both Ji Tang and Zhao Zhenzhen found themselves in a quandary. “Well,” Ji Tang began with a hint of exasperation, “tales of princes on quests for vengeance and damsels in distress stories are timeless favorites… You needn’t take it to heart. Our brethren may rally to this cause in your name, but rest assured, their perceptions of you won’t be swayed. In their eyes, you remain just like Hal and the others.”

These were just memes in the eyes of players and indeed didn’t need to be taken seriously.

Rex once again found himself facepalming.

His “Inner Demon Instance” would routinely massacre untold undead three nights in a row, biweekly, and now they were expected to view him as a beacon of inspiration… No matter the perspective, it was a notion he found impossible to ignore!

As Rex grappled with his dilemma, Yang Qiu had little patience for his delicate sensibilities. Coming from the main hall, he urged, “Stop dawdling, Rex. It’s time to move.”

This upcoming “siege” followed the same protocol as the previous battle on the wastelands: initial missions were assigned to a specific subset of players, allowing a fraction to accompany the NPCs to the frontline and establish respawn points before summoning the undead legions to join the fray.

Given the need to make a public appearance before the citizens of Indahl, Rex couldn’t rely on Ascetic Lowell to stand in for him this time… He had to personally make an appearance.

With his emotions in a jumbled mess, Rex followed Yang out of the hall, still trying to mentally prepare for the encounter with the undead. But before he could even begin, he overheard a rather impudent skeleton atop the dais openly critiquing his appearance—

“No offense, but Rex really doesn’t fit the bill of a revenge-driven protagonist. His visage, marked by a blend of vigor and melancholy, seems more suited for a tragic side story—the kind doomed from the start. To cast him as the lead is stretching it.”

Rex: “…”

The insolent skeleton’s companion seemed to agree, nodding. “Indeed, Rex’s design hardly screams ‘hero.’ He’d be more believable switching faces with the pretty boy.”

Another bored skeleton chimed in, “Well, you never know. This siege is bound to be tougher than the wasteland battle. Maybe Rex is here as an NPC to be a casualty in the first wave. Once he falls, it’ll be the pretty boy’s turn to shine.”

The first skeleton seemed to be enlightened. “Ah, that makes sense! It was the pretty boy who led the troops before, right?”

“No wonder the pretty boy never tried to usurp Old Yang’s position. The main plot has already been set here.”

“Definitely, the pretty boy fits the role of lord much better!”

Rex: “…”

He silently inhaled sharply. He must have been crazy to even feel a shred of guilt toward this undead wishing for his demise!