A different world game? A different world game!

In a newly built library near the Tower of Trials.

While flipping through the records in his hand, Popot turned his head and asked the person next to him: "I thought you would rush to the front line again this time."

Hearing this, the girl next to him sighed softly.

The sigh caused Popot to turn around and she adjusted her glasses on her rat face.

"What's the matter? You sighed in front of me on purpose, are you trying to act like a spoiled child? You're already a Soul Keeper, what can't you solve?"

Hearing this, Weir next to him turned her head and looked at Bobot with disbelief.

"What's wrong?" Such a look made Popot extremely confused. Did he just say something strange?

"You don't care about me at all?"

"I'm not caring about you."

"Then don't you know that our team's application for the Soul Keeper mission failed?"

This made Popot put down the report in his hand and turn to look at Weir.

"Why? You actually failed? If Lelia knew, she would definitely keep telling you about it for days. She trained you a lot, and she would feel like you've embarrassed her."

This made the worry on Wei'er's face even more intense.

"That's why I came to hide here with you."

"Oh!" Popot suddenly realized and asked curiously, "How could you fail? I know your strength.

I remember you guys started applying for missions before the Trial Tower was even built, right? Don't blame me for not caring about you. I've been so busy lately. The Trial Tower alone has been taking me away for the better part of six months. I can't believe you didn't succeed."

"Oh..." Wei'er sighed and began to tell the story.

"During the previous winter raid, our team was responsible for heading north to rescue more resistance forces. On the way, we encountered a small town that believed in the plague. During that process... we mistakenly let a seemingly ordinary villager go."

At this point, she looked at Popot's puzzled eyes and shrugged helplessly. "From what we can see now, he's obviously not ordinary. We noticed it at the time because the Plague Cultists were protecting him. We've fought him many times since then, and each time we've noticed his strength rapidly increasing. Now he's become the high priest of the Plague Cultists and the Plague Monarch's representative on earth. Who could have predicted this?"

Although they cannot be blamed entirely for the mistake, they are indeed to blame, and naturally, the promotion mission has failed.

After listening to the brief story, Popot frowned and began to think.

"Are you talking about the Bishop of Mercy?"

"Yes."

"Then your failure is understandable," Popot agreed with their plight. "This Bishop of Mercy is highly skilled in plagues, and most of the recent plagues were caused by him. The abominable thing about this plague is that it doesn't simply infect people, but disguises itself as a 'cure,' though this 'cure' has some side effects that can unwittingly turn people to the Plague Lord. Because of these actions, combined with the Night's Watch's description of him, this Bishop is like a saint gone astray, hence the nickname. But his actions have indeed caused great obstruction and disruption to the Night's Watch's operations."

"So what is your new promotion task?" Popot asked curiously.

Upon hearing this question, Weier's scowl became even more pronounced. "This is the real headache. Our captain has decided not to apply for promotion until he's eliminated. Because... he feels like he let him go."

"Okay, that's understandable. After all, I remember that your team members are all quite young."

Just as the two were chatting, heavy footsteps were heard downstairs, like the sound of horse hooves.

"Oh no, Lelia is here! I'm leaving first!" Weil rushed to the window and jumped down.

……

The heart of the Allied Forces-occupied zone.

Compared to the outer guard areas that were frequently attacked by war, the areas in the hinterland had escaped the impact of the rats' full-scale attack.

In these areas, the once-destroyed cities and villages had long since been rebuilt with the help of the Night's Watch. With the Night's Watch's strong support and participation, this area even became the logistics base for the entire coalition army, with large quantities of supplies, manpower, and soldiers continuously transported from here to the front line, providing a "blood supply" for the front line.

Perseid City is such a city located on the edge of the hinterland. It is not under the direct control of the Night's Watch, but a city under the jurisdiction of the United Kingdom.

Although not under the control of the Night's Watch, their tight intelligence network meant nothing escaped their notice. Furthermore, after the previous incidents, all nobles and officials of various ethnic groups had become more restrained. Furthermore, the Night's Watch was responsible for the vital food supply and a large amount of work, making it much more difficult for these powerful individuals to act recklessly.

There are many refugee camps around cities like this one.

Moonlight cast a bluish-gray hue over the canvas tents of the refugee camp. Maggie, a young woman from the camp, walked towards a nearby makeshift military station, carrying a potion of medicine.

The seventeen-year-old girl deliberately let the linen skirt be stained with mud, her chestnut curly hair was scattered casually, and a wild rose was pinned in her hair.

"Sir, your marigold tea." Maggie knelt on the blanket, her simple clothes perfectly framing her figure. In the light of the oil lamp, her collarbone shone like honey. The young captain, studying the garrison map, couldn't help but feel his Adam's apple move. He noticed that the bracelet that slipped from the girl's sleeve as she handed him the tea was the gift he had "lost" in her hands three days ago.

"You'll be staring at those lines all day, and your eyes won't be able to bear it." Maggie pressed his temples gently, and the scent of herbs mixed with the orange blossom on her body filled the air. "My brother always says that the curves on the map are very different from the real thing."

The young captain sighed contentedly.

One is the captain of the army who manages the refugee camp, and the other is a girl from the refugee camp. The girl is not absolutely beautiful, but her overall temperament is just right.

At this time, there were a large number of refugees working in the city, many of whom were engaged in servant work.

As Elena untied her wisteria-embroidered corset, the bronze mirror reflected the flushed face of the quartermaster behind her.

The veteran with twenty years of experience was now stammering to explain that he had no intention of doing anything inappropriate to the girl, he just cared about her.

In fact, he has been "caring" for others ever since the refugees arrived here.

The girl's face flushed slightly in the moonlight, and her clothes became thinner and thinner.

As she turned, her pearl earrings slipped off just in time. As she bent down to pick them up, she caught sight of the daily patrol schedule spread out on the table, including the detailed list. (End of this chapter)