Infrastructure starts from the game

"Boom boom boom!"

"Get up, get up! Who let you sleep here?"

With the sound of batons hitting the railing, Mark opened his eyes with difficulty.

The weather in early summer is not as cold as winter, but the floor is still hard and the air has become humid, making the old injury on Mark's knee so painful that he can hardly sleep.

Enduring such pain, Mark could only squint for a while when he was really sleepy, but he was woken up so roughly that his body was so stiff that he could hardly move.

But no matter how unable to move, he had to get up, otherwise the baton would not be hitting the railing, but hitting himself.

Mark straightened up with difficulty.

There is more than one homeless person like Mark.

There was a heavy rain at dusk today, and the nearby homeless people gathered in this garage. Now that they were hit with a few sticks, they jumped out like toads in the grass after the rain.

But even toads have their own ponds, and tramps don't.

Wherever they go, they are chased away.

Mark didn't know where he could go. He dragged his legs and limped forward, but when he passed an alley, his pace subconsciously slowed down.

That alley is a dead end, very dark, and there is a trash can outside, which is very smelly, but this kind of place can barely sleep, at least it won't sleep until midnight, and then be knocked up again.

But before Mark could make up his mind, someone grabbed Mark's arm.

"Don't go in! Another one died in the alley yesterday."

Mark turned his head and looked, and found that the person who grabbed him was a small and thin child, who was even dirty and could not even be seen as male or female—but even this was not safe, even if he wanted to be a homeless man, he had to be someone like Mark People who are over [-] years old and still have broken legs. It seems that there is no value for use. Children and young people are easy to be used by others, and it is impossible to say when they will disappear quietly.

This kid is an exception.

This child has been wandering in this neighborhood for five or six years, and he has not had much to do with those messy existences. He is a very clever child. Mark heard that others called this child "loach".

But Mark didn't care what the kid's name was or where he came from.

Mark has long since run out of energy to care about others.

He didn't even care much about himself.

"People are going to die after all, and death is not a relief." Mark said.

He'd love to have his old leg amputated right now if it would calm the pain in his leg.

Now Mark just wants to sit down anywhere.

"Loach" looked at Mark's wrinkled face and smiled wryly: "Then at least choose a way to die! I heard that the stomachs of the previous deceased were ripped open and their internal organs were eaten. The most terrifying thing is that one of them was killed." I was even angry when I found out, maybe I just watched myself being eaten up!"

Even Mark, who was as numb as Mark, shuddered when he heard such an outrageous way of death.

He obediently followed the loach for a distance, finally found a shelter from the wind at the back of a certain building, and finally sat down.

"Gu..."

After sitting down, I don't know whether it was a sigh of relief or something, the belly of the loach made a sound of hunger, but the loach curled up as if it didn't hear it.

For people like them, since they can still feel hungry, it means they are living a good life.

On the contrary, Mark heard the voice, hesitated for a moment, touched in his bosom, took out two boxes of candy, and threw one of them to the loach.

"What is this?" Loach caught it strangely, squinted his eyes and looked at it, and thanks to his good eyesight, he could see clearly in the dark: "Sugar?!"

"I got it on the road east of the street," Mark explained. "The person who delivered the candy seems to have a problem with his head. No matter who he is, I got two."

But did not dare to eat.

During the day, Mark is still a little more energetic and discerning. No matter how he thinks about it, he thinks it is a strange thing for someone to give candies to homeless people. I’m afraid it’s not poisonous in it. The donated food was mixed with poison, so I didn't dare to eat it at that time.

But on such a sleepy and painful night, Mark felt that it didn't matter.

Just looking at the loach, he felt guilty: "If you think it's dangerous, you don't have to eat it."

"It's edible and not poisonous," Loach said.

"Really?" Mark licked.

So sweet.

Mark commented: "Sweeter than the corn stalks I grew at home when I was a kid."

"You also planted corn!"

"Yeah!" It's just that the land was sold to the mayor's relatives.

The deal seemed fair, and Mark got a lot of money, so he took his wife to Chesser, which was said to be full of money, and wanted to use the money to open a shop, but found that what they thought was "one A lot of money” can’t rent a very good shop in Xie Sisi, so I can only choose a more chaotic neighborhood. After a few years of barely operating, I didn’t make much money, but was targeted by some unscrupulous people, and the shop was closed. The robbery, Mark fought his legs in anger, killed one of them, but was put in prison. When he came out, his wife was gone, the store was gone, and he could only be reduced to a homeless man.

Maybe it was better to be dead then.

Mark thought, biting into a candy, like biting into a corn stalk as a child.

Loach treasured the candy a lot since he ate it. He didn't dare to bite it, but carefully held it in his mouth: "This candy smells like fragments of a dream. If you eat it, you will probably have a dream."

"No wonder the person who gave out the candy said it was a dream candy." Mark muttered.

"Hey, can you have sweet dreams after eating?"

"She also said she could find a job!" Mark said.

"In a dream?" Loach laughed.

Mark didn't ask Loach why he knew the magic material "Dream Fragment" - he didn't even know that this was a magic material - and Loach didn't say, like they didn't care why the homeless man in the alley died Same.

Maybe tomorrow, they won't be able to open their eyes.

Such a sweet sleep to death may be a happy thing instead.

With this thought in mind, Mark slowly closed his eyes.

Mark is not dead, just a dream.

At first, Mark didn't realize he was dreaming.

He usually lives in a muddle, and there is not much difference between dreams and reality.

But in reality, Mark will not become a huge statue.

Yes, statues.

Mark feels that he is a statue now. He has a body made of stone, taller than a two-story house, and the body is also carved with patterns, shining brightly.

Mark didn't care much about this change, anyway, his usual body was extremely hard.

Ah, turned to stone at last?

But it's not bad to be turned into a stone, at least the knee doesn't hurt anymore.

Mark thought so.

At this time, a voice said to Mark: "Go, move these stones to the open space over there."

Following the instructions of the voice, Mark saw a pile of stone bricks on the ground, but Mark did not move.

By and large, homeless people are people without a future.

Some of them are unable to work due to illness or various objective reasons, and some are simply unwilling to work—most of those who think they can improve their lives through work are in factories and on construction sites, and are squeezed into the former by capitalists.

Mark seems to belong to the former, but his mentality is close to the latter.

He already felt that the world was not worth any effort, not to mention that it was useless, so Mark didn't want to do anything.

He stared at the pile of stones with no intention of moving.

Seeing him like this, a sigh came from nowhere.

Then another voice called, "Honey, help me move that pile of rocks?"

Mark's eyes widened—no, it was just a metaphor.His current body was carved out of stone, and so was his face, so he did such a subtle thing of pulling his muscles and widening his eyes—he turned his head, and saw his missing wife waving to him in the open space in the distance.

Mark had an idea at this time.

He didn't know why, but suddenly felt that if he hugged the stone in front of his wife, he might be able to see her again.

Mark finally lowered his head and tried to lift the stone up.

This action was unexpectedly difficult.

After all, the stone is not as soft as a piece of meat, and it is difficult to bend over.

Fortunately, this is not a problem for Mark. After all, his body is usually very stiff. Mark seems to be frozen in sleep. He bent his waist at [-] degrees, straightened his arms, and grabbed the stone.

Then it's easy.

For the stone giant, moving these stones does not require any strength at all. Mark hugged the stones, unskillfully controlled the stiff stone legs, and strode towards his wife.

"Put it here," Mark's "wife" said.

She looked the same as Mark remembered.

Mark put down the stone.

He stared at his wife and asked slowly, "Are you... are you here to pick me up?"

"Don't just let me die!" "Wife" said angrily with her arms akimbo, "Maybe I'm still alive!"

"I pray it doesn't happen," Mark said sadly.

No matter what the world is, women are always more sad than men.

Mark survived so hard that he couldn't imagine his wife's situation.

"Maybe things aren't as bad as you think," Mark's "wife" smiled, "Death is all right, but sometimes there is hope in life."

Saying so, Mark's "wife" put a candy and fifty cents in Mark's hand: "Even if you don't want to find me, at least try to make yourself happy?"

"It's impossible to be happy like this." Mark said, looking at the coins in his hand.

"Then continue to move bricks tomorrow night." The other party smiled.

Mark woke up.

Then he felt the pain on his knee, and because of this pain, he understood: he was just dreaming, otherwise, even if he turned into stone, how could his knee not hurt?

Mark twitched the muscles on his face, trying to touch his knee, but heard the sound of coins.

He stared blankly at a fifty per cent coin rolling out of his hand, as well as a piece of candy.

"Huh? Uncle, did you get the money and coins too?" At this time, the child next to him also opened his eyes. When he saw the coins, he yelled, "Why did you get more money than me?"

"... How much are you?" Mark asked.

"Ten per cent." Niach said, "That puppet was too heavy and difficult to manipulate, so I accidentally crushed some, and then the cheapskate over there didn't want to give me more money."

"...But, is this a dream? Why does money come into reality?" Mark murmured.

And sugar.

Does this also mean that the wife he saw in the "dream" is real?

Thinking this way, Mark squeezed the candy in his hand.

He wanted to enter the dream again.

For the first time in many years, Mark wanted to do something from the bottom of his heart.

He was obviously not the only one who came up with this kind of thought. Many people who also got the candy—whether they were homeless or not—were determined to try again.

It's just a "dream" anyway.

Being able to work and earn money in a dream is something that everyone will not reject!

Only Loach murmured softly: "Did those nightmares change the method of obtaining energy?"

"I need a batch of nightmares."

Angel said seriously to Mithril and Yinye.

The puppet manipulation through dreams as a medium has encountered unimaginable obstacles: a large number of people are like Mark, even if they are guided by the game, they are unwilling to take a step.

This is the first time Angel encountered a situation where the "game" didn't work.

But when you think about it, it makes sense.

Although some people always think that "games" are relaxation after being tired, people who are really tired are not in the mood to play games at all, because a good game must occupy a lot of time and brainpower before they can invest in it and have fun.

For people who are really tired, they are not in the mood to play the game at all.

At least I'm not in the mood to play games with complex settings.

At this time, special stimulation is needed.

Also, adults are not as innocent as children!

Children can be very happy with simple games, but some adults need a "wife" to stimulate them to act.

Then give them "wife".

It just so happens that a group of dream creatures are exceptionally good at this kind of thing.

"I'm going to contact junior Yasang." Yinye said without a word, and took the initiative to take over the recruitment task.

"Will those nightmares be willing to work for you?" Mithril was a little skeptical, "They are monsters after all!"

"It's okay, if they don't want to, I'll come and invite them personally." Angel said, "I've always been sincere to my employees."

After hearing that someone wanted to "come to the door in person", the patriarch of the Nightmare Clan knelt down in front of Angel tremblingly in his dream that night.

"Master Angel, if you have any ideas, just talk about it! We will definitely do our best!" said the Nightmare patriarch.

"Are you afraid of me?" Angel looked at the nightmare with some amusement.

The hair on the patriarch of Nightmare's sheep's hooves exploded in fright: "How dare we be afraid of Lord Angel?"

"That's why I'm really scared, why?" Angel asked.

This patriarch was different from the stupid little Nightmare Yasan. It was obviously not afraid of it because it misunderstood that Angor was the Demon King—in its view, Angor was obviously more terrifying than the Demon King.

Speaking of this, Angel suddenly noticed a very strange thing: "By the way, are you afraid of 'Angel' or 'Cecilia'?"

Why choose between two such horrible options?

Can I not have both?

The Nightmare patriarch trembled all over, but he said flatteringly, "Damn, of course it's you, because you're here!"

Cecilia is here, you think it's Cecilia, right?

Angel said: "But it is worthy of praise, you are the first existence that does not insist on treating me as Cecilia!"

"Because he is you, but you are not him." The Nightmare patriarch whispered.

"……What's the meaning?"

"I can't explain it. After the explanation is over, 'He' will come." Nightmare gave an answer similar to that of the Wind Elf.

Angel was sick of these puzzles.

"If you don't want to say it, forget it!" Angel said impatiently, and he made a request directly to Nightmare: "Silver Leaf should tell you the job content!"

"The mixed-blood succubus said that it needs us to act as an 'NPC', but I don't understand it." The Nightmare patriarch said bravely. It doesn't quite understand that it would be even worse if it casually agrees but fails to do so, so it simply boldly asked: "Master Angel is using the souls of other cities to control the golem? But why bother? Directly from the Isn't it easier to kidnap people to the East from other places?"

Why are you monsters and elves so keen on kidnapping!

"Because I need the Signal Tower (X) Tower of Dreams." Angel said.

That's why he was so happy when he heard about the puppet.

Angel explained: "Through the dream as a connection, the controller's body is in Shesser, but the soul is in Cecilia's puppet. When this 'game' takes shape, I can guarantee that a certain amount of soul will always be there." 'Online', so that even without soul slices, a connection is formed, and I can use their souls to create the Dream Tower."

"Besides, there are so many labor forces in other cities, they don't need them, why can't I use them?"

"As for the question of why I didn't just arrest someone and slice it up, I just don't want to do that, understand?" Angel added.

He was asked several times by Mithril, and he was already impatient to answer this question.

"Of course, Lord Angel has always been kind." The Nightmare patriarch said.

It would have been more convincing if his goat legs hadn't been shaking like a sieve.

Angor also felt very dissatisfied with this.

He felt that he was gentle and loving enough, why were everyone so afraid of him?

The Nightmare patriarch didn't want to discuss such a terrible topic with Angel.

It bowed its head and asked: "Then the so-called NPC refers to..."

"For some plot guidance, I will let Mithril train you." Angel said.

"Oh!" The nightmare patriarch heaved a sigh of relief.

It doesn't want Angor to educate itself.

"Then it's about the reward..." Angel continued.

"How dare we ask for compensation for doing things for Master Angel?" the Nightmare patriarch said in a panic.

"No, there will be a reward," Angel said, he prefers an equivalent exchange.

This is also for the sake of 'sustainable development'.

Whether it's the Wind Fairy or the Nightmare, they are all honest because of Angel (Cecilia). If they don't give them enough sweetness, God knows what will happen after Angel is gone. The group of things will use the Tower of Dreams and the Magic Power Base Station to do something, so from the beginning, they will maintain a good relationship with each other just like the Snow Clan.

Speaking of which, there are so many long-lived species in this world, if you give up future development only for the sake of temporary benefits, it will be human beings who will die in the end.

Fortunately, humans and nightmares are not completely hostile races, and there is still a way to coexist.

"What do you think of Yasang's compensation method?" Angel asked.

"Ah Sang... Are you talking about the live broadcast of Academy City?" The Nightmare patriarch suddenly showed a surprised expression, "The so-called NPCs also do that kind of thing?"

Nightmare certainly doesn't reject that kind of trading method, human desire is an irresistible delicacy.

"This is directly a dreamland. It can be more direct and allow players to favor NPC directly." Angel had originally considered that, but the words of the Nightmare patriarch obviously reminded him of something.

Angel muttered: "But speaking of it, once the Tower of Dreams is built, you can consider networking. Even with the current signal scale, the networking of the magic power base station is still not possible. After all, the magic power transmission in the dream is too unstable. Yes, but the TV signal is definitely possible! It’s just a pity to rebroadcast it.”

"Master Angel?" Nightmare team leader looked at Angel nervously and said.

He was suddenly a little uneasy.

"Indeed, it's a pity to only let you be NPCs to trick players," Angel patted the Nightmare patriarch on the shoulder and said, "Would you like to have a TV show?"

"TV show?"

"That's right, to be more precise, it's an infomercial!" Angel said with a bewitching voice.

exactly!

How can I not make a special advertisement program for my own workshop for the TV tower that has been built so hard?

This group of nightmares looks very suitable for carrying goods.

The Nightmare patriarch didn't know what Angel thought of his clan.

After signing a series of seemingly equal treaties with Angel, it was finally sent back to the clan to select its personnel.

But these nightmares were not as reluctance as Angel had imagined.

Some elders in the clan asked curiously: "How is it? Is that Mr. Angel the same as the one in the 'dream'?"

"Exactly the same." Nightmare patriarch said with a sigh.

They looked at the palace of the Nightmare Clan—this palace is very old, and it was built in the first era. Nightmare has always used this place as its own warehouse, but the inventory inside is very small, and only one dream remains.

A brilliant dream.

The elder asked: "Can Master Angel really lead us to this dream-like future?"

"Of course! After all, this is Cecilia's dream!" Nightmare patriarch said slowly.