Chapter 12: Are They Using Paid Commenters?
This was no different from a bolt from the blue for Song Jiulai.
After all, even when she was on Blue Star, her salary wasn’t enough to pay taxes.
This is the silence of men and the tears of women.
Moreover, “The Myriad Immortal Sect is so rich, they still charge money?”
A Wu asked with some confusion but stated matter-of-factly, “Sect Master, although you are new, you must know that the land we stand on belongs to the Myriad Immortal Sect. On the Myriad Immortal Sect’s territory, various rogue cultivators and demonic cultivators dare not approach easily, so they naturally have to pay taxes.”
A Wu’s explanation made Song Jiulai understand.
Fcuk!
This title sounds nice, but isn’t it just paying protection fees?
A Wu informed Song Jiulai that the tax collection rules here were calculated per person.
Previously, only A Wu paid a small amount within the sect, but now there were fifty more people.
The Myriad Immortal Sect didn’t care who these fifty people were; they collected taxes based on the highest cultivation level in the sect.
If there was a Foundation Establishment Stage cultivator, it was twenty low-grade Spirit Stones per person.
If there was a Golden Core Stage cultivator, it was fifty low-grade Spirit Stones per person.
It increased with higher levels.
Because cultivators at higher levels have good earning potential—good my ass!
Aren’t you considering the fact that besides this Foundation Establishment Stage, everyone else is at Qi Condensation Stage?
And now there isn’t even a Foundation Establishment Stage, so why are they still collecting taxes based on the Foundation Establishment Stage when I’m the only Sect Master at Qi Condensation Stage?!
Is there any law or justice in collecting taxes like this!!
Song Jiulai looked at A Wu sincerely, “If we don’t pay taxes, what do you think our fate will be?”
A Wu looked at Song Jiulai with worry, “Sect Master, when the previous Sect Master founded the Longevity Sect, the sect monument was registered with the Myriad Immortal Sect. Even if you want to run now, you can’t escape. You can leave, but if you don’t pay taxes, they will at least dispatch Golden Core Stage cultivators to hunt you down…”
Song Jiulai: “…”
What’s the difference between that and directly using a delivery service?
Is not paying taxes really that cruel?!
Song Jiulai looked at the last four mid-grade Spirit Stones remaining in her Mustard Seed Bag, and felt like the sky was falling.
She still needed these Spirit Stones as a reserve fund for the Players, as A Wu needed money to open up more land to grow Spirit Herbs.
Next month, she not only had to earn living expenses but also ten mid-grade Spirit Stones to pay taxes.
Since that was the case.
It could only rely on the Players!
The Players would definitely find ways to make money. She provided Players with accommodation and the Game, and she initially covered the Cultivation Methods, Inner Elixirs, and Spirit Herbs.
After earning money, she would take a 30% tax.
The System scoffed, “You don’t even know how to be a capitalist? You’ve already given them the most important thing: opening up Spiritual Roots. What’s wrong with making them hand over all their money?”
From this, it could be seen that the System was the true Zhou Bapi.
They wouldn’t be this black-hearted even if they sold them to work in the coal mines.
“That would dampen their enthusiasm. Who plays a game to work for free? They don’t see numerical rewards, and they have to work hard for their cultivation. If I charge less, they will work harder to make money. The more they pay, the more they earn. This is just a temporary tax standard for now; it’s too tight in the early stages, so I have no choice. Later, I will definitely implement a tax threshold, and I plan to copy Blue Star.”
It’s a waste not to copy a mature system. The wisdom of a country is far greater than her own.
For the Players, there were no pay-to-win channels. If they didn’t find ways to earn money, they wouldn’t even survive until the game officially opened.
If all the money they earned was handed over or most of it was taken, who would still work hard?
No matter how fun the game is, it still needs to follow basic principles. Even the most black-hearted players will grudgingly play, but there’s no need for that.
What she wanted was for the Players to help her make the Sect bigger and stronger.
Moreover, the more Spirit Stones the Sect had, the better.
Cultivating in places with dense Spiritual Energy was faster than others.
There’s a saying: Talent isn’t everything; birth is the trump card!
Song Jiulai immediately started writing on the blackboard, letting the Players pick up tasks themselves.
The Longevity Sect’s main way of making money now was planting and selling Spirit Herbs. Each Player would be allocated two plots of land, which would serve as a Novice Mission.
Song Jiulai also wanted to buy a pill furnace to practice, but a normal pill furnace cost five mid-grade Spirit Stones. If her skill wasn’t good—it would explode.
Poor, so poor everywhere.
Song Jiulai, who was poor, shed tears while cultivating.
*
Blue Star time 11 o’clock.
After discussing for a long time, the Players finally learned that the strongest talents were Jiang Ya and Chen Miaomiao.
They had the longest time, a full three hours!
The Big Shot named Chen Miaomiao was a Player who, along with Zhou Xiao, discussed whether Spirit Herbs could be improved, cultivated, and upgraded.
Judging from her eloquent speech, she was definitely a female academic prodigy.
Without a doubt, these two belonged to the first tier.
What was unexpected was that the female Player who was previously disliked by A Wu, the only one who hadn’t done Character Creation, named Mu Qiu, belonged to the second tier of talent, with two hours and fifty-five minutes.
Besides these three, the highest talent was Han Tian.
Only he and Zhou Nüzi exceeded two hours; the rest were actually under two hours.
Han Tian estimated that Jiang Ya, Chen Miaomiao, and Mu Qiu all possessed higher talents.
Judging by the five-minute intervals, it indicated that there should be a small talent gap every five minutes.
Exceeding the hour mark represented a level gap.
Everyone has a competitive spirit. To think that he was several small levels lower than others, Han Tian felt a mix of emotions.
However, he then thought that it wasn’t strange to have such distinctions since he wasn’t an “Emperor” in the game.
He was already better than more than forty people in the group.
The Players who had over an hour were quite cheerful, calling Jiang Ya, Chen Miaomiao, and others “Big Shots.”
Jiang Ya was not very talkative, while Chen Miaomiao had a gentle temper and would respond to anyone who asked her.
Mu Qiu was also relatively quiet.
Because there were several girls in the group, the male Players didn’t speak as freely as they usually did in other games.
Everyone’s current focus was on the game itself.
Compared to the lively discussions in the group, they had actually been constantly harassed privately tonight.
Mainly, those who hadn’t played the game felt their behavior was too strange.
They kept sending messages asking what kind of game this was and if it was fun, wanting some kind of answer.
The replies they received were all: “The most awesome game, man, you’ll regret it for life if you don’t play.”
Especially the Reviewer: “I’ll thank my brothers and sisters for life. If they hadn’t urged me, abandoning this game for a meal of lobster would have been the most regrettable decision of my life!”
And then?
Where were the screenshots, the recordings, what was the plot like?
You guys didn’t say a single word!
The more this was the case, the more it piqued everyone’s curiosity, making them want to know how much money this company, which dared to call itself a Virtual Game, had spent to hire so many Paid Commenters.
Until Jing Baotian, while waiting to log into the game, posted an article.
