Online Game: My Decay Drives the Entire Server Crazy

Chapter 50: Hundreds of Millions Spent on Game Gaming Go Down the Drain; Qin Wentian Angrily Smashes Twenty Game PodsThe night Qin Wentian finished paying the fifty million gold coins, he sat alone on the stone steps at the entrance of Commoner Supermarket, staring blankly at the main city’s night scenery. Fatty Wang handed him a cup of milk tea; he took it and took a sip. It was sweet, but his mouth was filled with bitterness.

He opened his character panel and looked through it from beginning to end.

ID: Heavenly Temple Qin Wentian. Level: 35. Equipment: A full set of white-tier gear. Only ten million gold coins remained in his bag—the last of his savings after selling off his assets. The guild channel was empty, and the avatars of the last few core members were gray; they hadn’t been online for several days. He tried sending a message: ”Is anyone there?” No one replied. There was only deathly silence.

Qin Wentian stared at that empty guild channel, suddenly finding it laughable. The Heavenly Temple he had spent over a hundred million real-world currency to build, the number one guild in the server with thousands of people, now only had him left as a commander without an army.

He remembered when he first founded the guild three years ago, there were only five people. Himself, Po Jun, Ling Tian, Kuang Zhan, and Fa Shi. The five of them had squatted in the Novice Village square, not even having a decent guild territory. Back then he said, ”Brothers, one day, I will make Heavenly Temple the number one guild in the server.” Po Jun smiled and said, ”Guild Leader, I believe in you.” Ling Tian patted his chest and said, ”Guild Leader, I’m with you all the way.” Kuang Zhan and Fa Shi also nodded.

Later, they really did it. Heavenly Temple became the top guild on the server, with thousands of people lining up to join. Standing on the top floor of the guild territory, looking down at the dense crowd below, he felt like the king of the entire server. Back then, he thought that as long as he had money, he could buy anything. Levels, equipment, guilds, people’s hearts—everything could be bought.

But what about now? Po Jun was gone, Ling Tian had quit, and Kuang Zhan and Fa Shi had deleted their accounts. A guild that once had thousands of people didn’t even have someone to talk to now.

Qin Wentian stood up, threw the milk tea cup into the trash, and walked out of Commoner Supermarket. He walked aimlessly through the streets of the main city, passing the Trading House, dungeon entrances, and material shops. These places used to be Heavenly Temple’s territory, but now they all had new owners. Casual players were laughing, playing, and scrambling to buy cheap materials; no one cared about him, the former ”Leader of the Number One Guild in the Server.”

When he reached the old site of Heavenly Temple, he stopped. The former guild territory had turned into a ruin, with a system reclamation notice posted on the gate, and the Heavenly Temple flag on the wall torn to a mere fragment. He pushed open the iron gate and walked in; the hall was empty, with only a few pillars still standing. Shards of tables and chairs used for meetings were scattered on the floor, and the plaque he had personally written back then still hung on the wall—’Number One Under Heaven.’

Qin Wentian looked at that plaque and suddenly laughed. As he laughed, tears began to fall. He crouched on the ground, covering his face, crying like a dog. When he founded the guild three years ago, he never imagined it would end like this. He thought Heavenly Temple would exist forever, that it would always be number one. He thought money could buy everything, could buy forever.

But now he knew—money couldn’t buy hearts, couldn’t buy trust, couldn’t buy forgiveness. He had spent over a hundred million real-world currency, and all he had bought was a pile of data and an empty guild channel.

After crying for a long time, he stood up, wiped his tears, logged out of the game, and took off his helmet. The room was dark, with only the indicator lights of the gaming pods flickering. He sat in his chair, looking at that row of gaming pods—twenty in total, arranged neatly against the wall. He had bought these for Heavenly Temple, one for each team member. Twenty people, twenty pods, costing over a million. Now, these pods were all empty.