Huh? Isn't This A Galgame?-Chapter 67 - 64 Waiting for the Hare by Guarding the Stump

Chapter 67: Chapter 64 Waiting for the Hare by Guarding the Stump

Actually, the staged task set by this system is not too demanding, at least in terms of the number of recruits.

In 24 hours, you only need to recruit one person.

But the problem is, the member being recruited needs to sign a contract for more than three years—

In reality, signing a three-year employment contract is conventional, but for a guild member in a game, a three-year contract is too much.

Who would stay in a game world for a full three years? Signing this contract is essentially making a commitment, acknowledging this guild in this world, and promising never to transfer elsewhere.

With this restriction, it becomes quite difficult for Wen Nan to recruit anyone.

Sitting on the miniature sofa, Wen Nan turned his head and looked meaningfully at Yu Shujun.

Yu Shujun leaned against the wall and coldly replied, "Don’t look at me, I’m a character account now, not a player."

Even if he switched back to a player account, Yu Shujun’s account had already been bound to another guild, making it impossible to join Wen Nan’s newbie guild. But Yu Shujun couldn’t be bothered to explain this; he assumed the other party wouldn’t care even if told.

Wen Nan indeed had no intention of delving into Yu Shujun’s account issues. He glanced at the remaining time he had left in the game’s lobby and felt quite troubled.

If he couldn’t find a veteran member within these last three hours, his domain would be reclaimed. Losing hundreds of thousands of Gold Coins was one thing; he could always earn those back. But to lose the permanent qualification to create a guild—that was a consequence Wen Nan couldn’t bear.

He had to complete these three tasks.

He pulled up the community page from the system, clicked on the [My Community] section, and opened the bare-bones guild interface he had just created. Wen Nan first changed the guild’s name, using a pun on his own name—

[Wenna].

It’s a bit cheesy, but Wen Nan found it quite fitting. The [Wenna] guild, easy to remember.

He casually clicked open the details page and modified the guild introduction—essentially "borrowing" from the introduction of the [Feng Shui Huan] guild he had just viewed.

Additionally, he wrote a few lines about future guild development plans, painted some grand visions, and finally added the members’ rights and obligations—only two simple and straightforward points.

Any member who joins the guild within the first three hours of its establishment enjoys limited-time benefits—

Rights: Equivalent to the guild leader, except for management permissions;

Obligations: None.

After finishing all that, Wen Nan made the recruitment notice into a billboard, and like most real estate agents, posted it on the exterior wall of his office building.

Then came the long wait.

The game lobby wasn’t too big, with roughly sixty private stalls by visual estimate. However, there were quite a few new players in this area. It was roughly estimated that during peak times, there could be thousands of people.

Which means each stall would theoretically receive about a hundred visitors. Theoretically, if he could achieve a 1% conversion rate from the average foot traffic, Wen Nan would successfully complete the first-staged task.

But that’s only theoretically.

The reality is much harsher.

Other than a dozen or so people passing by his small building and pausing briefly, nothing happened.

This is quite normal; even in places like job fairs, where the density of fresh graduates per square unit is highest and resumes are flying everywhere, very few end up at start-up companies. And if this start-up is labeled as "just established today," "currently only has the founder," "and the founder is still a newbie," this series of debuffs would probably scare all job seekers away.

In this harsh reality, Wen Nan passed two hours with no inquiries.

Of course, he wasn’t just idling for those two hours.

During this downtime, he first went to the newly unlocked player marketplace to browse around and then pulled up the live-stream replay from the trial area to check the comments—

While on the map, players on the same map can see the live-stream screen (aside from blocked situations) but cannot view the comments. They can only see the overall popularity and betting situations.

After entering the final settlement period, the live-stream room closes, and the player’s live-stream replay video will be packaged into their account’s storage space, visible only to the player themselves.

Comments during the live stream are embedded into the replay video for players to review later as a reference.

It sounds like a pretty user-friendly design. However, when Wen Nan checked his live-stream replay, the comments floating at the top of the screen, besides [Here it comes], [Finally opened], [+1], and some random emojis, were entirely filled with [***].

Was everything censored?

Why?

9527: [According to the game’s rules, considering that certain instance’s plotlines can significantly impact the difficulty of completion, and to ensure absolute fairness and impartiality, any discussion involving map stories or settings is considered a spoiler and will be censored. This rule applies not only to live-stream viewers but also to all contestants.]

Even contestants can’t give spoilers? If contestants casually chat and accidentally spill something, is that not allowed?

9527: [If any speech or actions by contestants involve spoilers, the system will issue a verbal warning. Accumulate three verbal warnings, incur one fine. Accumulate three fines, the account will be deleted.]

So, does this mean that if a player talks too much and slips up nine times, their account would be directly deleted?

The consequences for spoilers are that severe?

Yet he hasn’t received a single verbal warning?

9527: [As of now, your performance has been exceptional, with no conduct involving spoilers.]

Wen Nan: ?

Really?

Was he always this self-disciplined?

Time always flies when watching a live stream, and when Wen Nan finally detached from the system, he realized that he didn’t have much time left.

[Time remaining until the next instance opens: 00:39:18—]

What, only half an hour left?!

No player has even stepped into his office building.

What is he supposed to do? Go out and recruit on-site like the members of the [Feng Bing Huan] guild?

This kind of thing... is really hard to bring oneself to do.

Wen Nan suddenly missed Wang Xiaoer. If that chubby kid were sharing this game lobby with him, he would’ve completed this task already, instead of being so passive like now.

But now is not the time for self-pity. Wen Nan turned his head and looked at Yu Shujun.

With just one look, Yu Shujun already guessed what kind of tricks the other party was up to. Before Wen Nan could speak, Yu Shujun coldly interrupted:

"If I go out to recruit, I might even drive away the guests who were originally willing to stop and take a look, Master."

Remembering Yu Shujun’s past actions, Wen Nan thought he wasn’t completely wrong.

He sighed, feeling puzzled, "In the trial map before, weren’t you getting along quite harmoniously with my ’harem’? How come in the game lobby, when encountering players and NPCs, it’s different?"

Yu Shujun: "Players are players, characters are characters. To me, they’re completely different, Master."

Wen Nan wanted to ask what the difference was, but with a glance at his quickly dwindling repair time, he realized now wasn’t the time for these trivial past concerns.

Only twenty or so minutes left. Is he going to sit here, waiting like a tree at the edge of a field? No, rather, sitting idly waiting for the end?

Amidst his pondering, a "rabbit" bolted into his private domain.

"I want to join the guild!"

A voice sounded from outside the door.