T0 Gaming Guild Saves the World

Whose job is too cumbersome?

Whose playing style isn't team-oriented?

Who doesn't have a human touch?

For a long time, random teams in the Stars of Proof were "checking physical condition and skills".

The equipment quality is substandard; optimization is needed.

If the number of skills is insufficient, optimize them immediately to become someone who can sit at the same table as the Berserker Mage.

The term "one trick pony" implies equality for all, and it places certain requirements on the professional and skill configurations of a team.

There are no more jacks-of-all-trades in the team; everyone must focus on doing their job well based on their own skills.

People who could normally rely on their professional expertise to get by are easily exposed as having insufficient abilities when everyone has to contribute.

The enamel mug player was already sweating bullets; the previous guild that had been watching the battle started splitting the blame as they fought.

As the process of breaking up occurs, some people become dissatisfied and start arguing with each other, leading to conflicts over trivial matters.

There's definitely no conflict between the boundaries of reality and illusion, but there are two sieves in the team: the Four Primitives and the Jailer!

Community Nikkei topics include, "Wouldn't I be better than the prison guard?" and "I could replace the four original bodies."

Having seen so much of this, I feel sorry for these young people.

The host of the Death Arena, dressed as a clown, danced merrily around the boundary between reality and illusion.

He removed his top hat and unleashed a powerful sound spell, turning the hat into a megaphone that amplified his voice throughout the entire venue.

"Come, come, warriors, step onto this stage of glory and death!"

"Today we will witness a clash of strength and a contest of courage!"

The audience immediately responded with a thunderous roar, the sound waves surging and stirring everyone's blood.

Stepping onto that stage in front of so many people inevitably fills one with excitement.

The host gazed at the crowd with a beaming smile, her makeup contorted and grotesque by the wrinkles on her face.

"This is the arena of death, the birthplace of heroes, and the graveyard of the weak."

"The victors depart, the vanquished rest in eternal sleep."

The notification sound of Yulu ended along with the host's introduction.

"Forfeiting on this floor is equivalent to being killed in action."

"Note: Once a player completes the level, the number of challenge attempts will be restored."

Jiang Heyi frowned.

This rule eliminates players' fear of battle, which is completely different from the Baby Bus in the first 5 floors.

"Please welcome our first opponent at the boundary between reality and illusion, the mountain troll with the fearsome name of the Bonebreaker, Pol!"

The arena gates opened, and a nearly three-meter-tall green-skinned troll slowly walked out from behind them.

Its neck was as thick as its head, and its skin was rough like rock, with a dark gray texture.

The muscles were bulging, each one like steel that had been forged through countless hammer blows.

The bone hammer he carried on his shoulder was far taller than him. It was hard to imagine what kind of creature's bone it was made from. It was covered with silvery-white barbs. Just imagining it grazing an enemy and forcefully slashing him made one feel a phantom pain in their brain.

Jiang Heyi brought up the panel to check: Mountain Troll Pol, level 32.

The host introduced him as the vanguard of the Earthshaker Adventurer Team, who had already completed 19 battles.

In 11 of those matches, it was a one-hit kill.

The remaining 8 games will be easily crushed.

With him in charge, no one in the Earthshaker Adventurer Group has seen any subsequent members appear so far.

The jubilant crowd inside the stadium cheered and shouted, eager to witness the 20th massacre.

Countless gambling orders were placed, all for the moment when flesh and blood would burst forth; the lottery tickets in their hands exuded an alluring stench of money.

Are you ready to die?

Even the host, who wore clown makeup, doesn't have a positive view of the boundary between reality and illusion.

Even though they knew it was just a game, staring at that smug, smiling face so close up, everyone felt a strong competitive urge.

The host announced loudly, "The challenger has called my name!"

The Death Beastfight is a one-on-one event, but it happens to be a one-trick pony, leaving players with no room for team skill coordination.

It's a nightmare difficulty level.

Snow water fried noodles reassured his old friend: "Don't worry, they are the top players."

The enamel mug glanced at him sideways: "I didn't say anything, but you seem more anxious than me?"

Bohr stretched out his finger and moved it disdainfully over the people at the boundary between reality and illusion.

He seemed to enjoy the feeling of indecisiveness that he created, deliberately focusing his attention on the "weak" fries twice before immediately moving away.

“I don’t like bullying women. Come on, you’re the one.” Pol nodded contemptuously. “It’s you. Don’t look around. You’re the human with the staff.”

The jailer pointed sharply at himself, as if asking, "Is it really me?"

"Don't make me laugh at you for being a coward."

Pol raised his voice, as if he wanted to say something more, but the jailer jogged into the center of the arena.

With a height difference of over one meter and a robust physique, the slightly chubby prison guard looked like a child in front of Pol.

A magical barrier rises, isolating the area from the outside world.

At this point, regardless of life or death, victory or defeat, the barrier will not disappear.

"Before it begins, say your last words, even though your companions may not be able to carry them out with them."

With a savage grin, Bohr dropped the bone hammer from his shoulder, smashing it to the ground with a loud thud, creating a dent.

The jailer nodded slightly and looked at the host not far away.

"If I kill him, will I get the body?"

"..."

"..."

The host paused for a moment before explaining.

"According to the rules, the winner certainly has the right to deal with everything the loser does."

"Then I'm relieved." The jailer patted his chest.

The trash talk before the match couldn't hide Boll's killing intent. The moment the starting bell rang, he lifted his foot and stomped it hard on the ground!

The tactic of striking the earth with sheer force to disable a nearby spellcaster's channeling has proven effective time and again.

"Boom~~~~"

A deafening explosion rang out behind Bohr, splashing him with dark green liquid.

Before anyone could react, another explosion rang out from the green mist.

This time, the explosion occurred at the feet of Bohr, who was staggering forward.

Caught off guard, two explosions at close range corroded and festered one of Bohr's hands and one of his legs, causing flesh and blood to turn into pus and flow to the ground.

Its sturdy and robust body was riddled with holes by the foul-smelling green spots, resembling a honeycomb.

After winning 19 consecutive matches and striking fear into the hearts of warriors and mages, Boll lay on his back, coughing up blood, before he could even launch a proper attack.

The jailer breathed a sigh of relief: "Phew, thankfully my mana recovery speed is keeping up."

The third Corrupted Corpse Explosion occurred right in front of Bohr, completely shattering his hopes that the overconfident jailer would get close, launch a counterattack, and turn the tide of the battle.

He didn't have time to say any last words before the rotting green sphere that dropped from the sky blasted him into half a honeycomb briquette.

Jiang Heyi was stunned for a moment, then couldn't help but lead the applause.

"How was my performance?" The jailer turned around at the sound of the voice, his mouth practically smirking.

French Fries replied, "I didn't see any operation, I only saw the numbers."

Orange Tea nodded in agreement.

"It has such beautiful numerical values."

Chapter 415 My stats are above yours

Transforming into the operators, everyone stripped off their equipment and wrestled with the monster in their weakest and most helpless state.

Following the above procedure, the boss of the level that refreshes in the 10th round is usually no more than a level 6 mage.

If everyone then dons their gear and engages in a righteous brawl, as long as they coordinate their hands and eyes, the boundary between reality and illusion makes it impossible for them to lose.

If everyone can enter the Tower World, there's no reason why there should be players at the level of a paramecium, right?

If you're strong, I'll be even stronger; if you're weak, I'll be weaker. The strategy for level 5 is already very well-established.

But precisely because of this, none of the members of the virtual-real boundary who returned from the storyline had any idea of ​​their own strength.

Troll Bolt became the first stepping stone for Jailer Bro to regain his strength and positioning.

"Next person."

The jailer was eager to try. In response to Paul's provocation, he paced around in front of the mangled corpse, pointing repeatedly.

If it weren't for conserving energy, Jiang Heyi felt he would have performed a high-speed squat.

Kru, the Dark Swordsman, a Forest Elf Swordsman, level 30.

Although his rank was inferior to Pol's, the opening ceremony host listed his numerous shocking deeds like a menu.

A solo player can defeat a Tier 6 monster.

He is proficient in a variety of secret sword techniques.

Legend has it that his sword strikes are as fast as lightning, making them impossible to track with the naked eye.

The victim's vision went black for the first time, then his consciousness was cut off, and his life force vanished.

To date, none of his peers who have seen him draw his sword have survived.

The silent swordsman with flowing golden hair didn't change opponents, tacitly agreeing to another match with the jailer.

His companion's death had no effect on him; with a calm mind, he slowly lowered his center of gravity and gripped the hilt of his sword.

The bells rang, and lightning struck in an instant.

It was indeed a dazzling sword light, visible to the naked eye. A halo of white and dark ink-like light enveloped the jailer as dozens of light and shadows were slashed in an instant.

With graceful and agile steps, the shimmering light reflected from his blond hair blended seamlessly with the sword's gleam, creating a dazzling and captivating sight.

The impenetrable sword light, like a curtain, spun and tore from top to bottom.

It was incredibly fast, as if the attack was erased with a wave of the hand, and time was stolen.

but……

The boundary between reality and illusion is so clear that everyone can see his moves.

It's not as if the dishes were out of sight as mentioned when reciting the menu.

Although it is fast, it is by no means as fast as Düsseldorf.

The scumbag teacher tore through space with a wave of his hand, teleporting with silky smoothness that is unforgettable once witnessed.

Bohr won every battle, and most of the spectators in the Colosseum never got to see Kru make a move.

As the sword was about to be drawn, the jailer stood frozen in place, bathed in the sword's light, and then burst into an impatient cheer.

The host craned his neck and stood on tiptoe, staring intently at the prison guard, ready to sing loudly as soon as he swayed and collapsed to the ground.

"The jailer has fallen!"

I've already figured out the rhythm and tone to use for singing.

The only question is, why hasn't he collapsed yet?