The hesitation and unease on Sampo's face froze.
It was just about confirming something this small?
No big deal, then.
"The Wildfire folks didn't tell Brother Leon about this?"
"Just as you suspected, it's not that Wildfire doesn't want to flip the lid sealing the passage—it's that they don't have the ability to."
"With Brother Leon's sharp mind, my confirmation probably already cleared things up for you."
Leon fell into thought, not responding immediately.
Sampo desperately wanted to leave.
But with this guy in front of him not giving the go-ahead, he didn't dare lift a foot.
For some reason, Leon gave off an inexplicable, untraceable sense of dominance targeted specifically at him.
What was up with that?
Leon definitely wasn't a Masked Fool.
There was no trace of a mask's aura or the imaginary fluctuations of a unique Path encounter.
A Mourning Actor, then?
What a joke!
Who's ever seen a Mourning Actor smile?
He wondered if wearing a mask would dispel this suppressed feeling…
But then again.
A mask could be worn, but there was no need for it now.
This guy, at the end of the day, was a Nameless.
As long as you didn't step on his landmines or pull his dragon's scales like some dumb thug, he wouldn't casually threaten lives.
Leon ignored Sampo's inner turmoil, muttering to himself.
"A disparity in firepower and combat strength means Wildfire can't break through the Furnace Core's blockade…"
"Svarog stopping the underground's resistance—what's the logic behind it…"
"According to Oleg, he's a robot who's been through ancient wars, existing for at least seven hundred years, so…"
"Leon, Sampo?" A familiar voice suddenly came from behind.
The tone carried a hint of surprise.
Sampo instinctively turned, seeing the newcomer's eyes light up.
Thank goodness!
Good sister, you better have some urgent business with Leon.
That way, old Sampo can slip away fair and square.
"What are you two doing here?"
Stelle walked up.
"The protagonist finally joins seamlessly, but it looks like she didn't hear their conversation."
Ah Xian knew HoYoverse's style.
They were great at advancing the plot this way, giving players more info through their perspective.
But the in-game protagonist, the player's stand-in, often didn't know.
"Why's there a smell of alcohol?"
Stelle sniffed, her gaze lingering briefly on the cups in their hands.
① "Drinking without me, the Galaxy Booze God?"
② "Can't sleep with insomnia—got any more wine? I want a sip too."
Sampo said weakly, "Good sister… minors can't drink…"
① "Would a minor have my magnificent face?"
② "Brother, you think I'm an eight-year-old kid?"
Laughter.
A phrase worthy of humanity's intangible cultural heritage slipped from Ah Xian's mouth.
"Eight years old, my foot!"
Sampo chuckled awkwardly. "Sorry, sorry, been too tired lately—brain's a bit fried. Don't mind me, good sister."
"No way a minor could look as… picturesque, radiant, noble, and fair-skinned as you!!"
At that, Stelle's lips curved into a smug smirk.
"You're actually pretty honest, huh."
"Lmao, if it was the male protagonist, how would Sampo flatter him here? Anyone in the chat know?"
Ah Xian was genuinely curious.
[Chiseled brows, starry eyes, dashing as a jade tree, face like polished jade, steady as a mountain.]
"Chat's quick on the draw—were you already typing in the dialogue box, waiting for me to ask?"
[Pretty sharp. As expected, Ah Xian's got a big brain for a BoDa stan.]
[Hold up—doesn't falling in love drop a woman's IQ by eight buckets?]
"With a husband as amazing as Leon, can't I, his little wifey, have a brain? I can't embarrass him by loving him."
[Is this how paper lovers are?]
"Shoo, shoo—I'm an exceptional case."
Leon: "Brother Sampo, don't you have a business deal to handle?"
"Oh, right, right, right! I won't bother you—I'm off!"
Sampo got the hint, as if granted amnesty, wishing he could grease his soles ten times over.
Stelle blinked in confusion, watching Sampo run faster than flight.
What, was he dodging a plague god?
Were she and Leon that scary?
"Insomnia, huh? Got a lot of doubts on your mind?"
Leon's voice was calm and soothing, his face showing a touch of concern.
It's hard for gacha games to convey facial emotions.
But compared to how he spoke to Sampo, this almost excessively gentle tone was noticeable to anyone.
[Father's care for his companions is unmatched.]
[Stone-cold killer to outsiders, warm and gentle to the team—love this type of gacha game character.]
[Who doesn't want to be cherished like that?]
[As I said: question Ah Xian, understand Ah Xian, become Ah Xian.]
[One percent of Ah Xian is enough—her obsession with Leon could power a new-energy car for ten thousand kilometers.]
"Ten thousand kilometers? Pfft—I could power an entire city for half a week!"
[That's you alright—terrifying…]
Stelle: "Sort of. What were you and Sampo talking about? Can I know?"
Leon smiled. "Of course you can."
[Leon tells you what he asked Sampo, but omits the part about threatening him.]
It was just a narrative summary of the plot, yet it made countless players feel at ease.
He was too much like a single dad raising two kids.
"Any thoughts after hearing this?" Leon asked.
Stelle nodded.
"Svarog barring Wildfire from entering the surface—I don't think it's directly tied to Cocolia."
Leon gestured with his hand.
"Go on."
He always remembered not to steal the spotlight, never using the protagonist as a prop to prop himself up.
Guiding Stelle to think through the truth, offering support when needed, and correcting errors was enough.
A protagonist who's playful and quirky in normal times but serious and cool when it counts often resonates with players, enhancing immersion.
Only when players are willing to immerse themselves in the game's perspective can they truly empathize with the story.
In short: make players feel their avatar truly exists in the game world and has a purpose.
If he said and did everything, what's the point of the protagonist?
Just a camera to record it all?
That's a subtle form of protagonist abuse, essentially the same thing.
In web novels, it's like a useless protagonist who relies on teammates' borrowed glory.
It'd poison a ton of people and get flamed until their family registry's down to one page.
Speaking of dark humor, Leon's own registry was long gone, but he still knew his limits.
Feeding players garbage—how's that supposed to efficiently gather faith?
The system hadn't forgotten its purpose.
Due to some unknown reason, it was incomplete, missing many functions.
That's why, over nearly two thousand Amber Eras, the system's attitude toward him grew humbler, its stance lower.
It knew it was in the wrong.
No progress bar or anything like that… here's a quirky analogy:
A succubus keeps saying she's almost full, but you turn into a husk, and she still doesn't know how much is left to fill.
While Leon sighed inwardly, he didn't lose focus.
His attention remained on Stelle.
Stelle's face was full of confidence.
"It's a simple deduction: if Svarog was under Cocolia's orders, she wouldn't have freaked out about us going to the underground to find the Stellaron."