Chapter 208 – The Change

Chapter 208 - The Change

The shift occurred after the reproduction of the new port was complete. All players were then logged out, with a notification that the game was updating.

Initially, those who hadn't entered the reproduced new port and weren't too concerned about it didn't react much. Besides, the game only took a mere ten minutes to update before they could log back in. Upon discovering that the in-game time remained unchanged, they shrugged it off.

However, players who had logged into the new port experienced something different.

Take Aron for example, who continued his career as a gaming streamer. Unfortunately, he missed the new port's reproduction event, but considering the popularity of the newly-built pagan university on the forums, he had been streaming from the new port recently.

Aron closely monitored the situation with the reproduction, so when the game suddenly announced an update and forced all players out, he was the first to notice something odd.

Sure enough, upon the completion of the update, Aron was stunned by the sudden transformation of the landscape when he logged back into the game.

He hurriedly opened a post on the game forum:

Aron: Are you currently in the game? Log in right away! It's completely different in reality!

It's like we've been transported to an entirely new map!

Upon sending the message, Aaron, with his acute senses, launched his live stream, showcasing the transformed scenery of the new harbor.

"Hey, what just happened? Why did the screen go black?"

"It seems like an in-game update. Players were suddenly logged out."

"Too sudden, no warning at all! I was in the middle of fighting a monster, qwq!"

"Hey, where did Aaron go? Is this a new map?"

Viewers in the live stream noticed that the surroundings Aaron was in were unfamiliar. Currently, players mainly logged into three locations—Arkham, New Harbor, and Orland—and every inch of these places, along with the neighboring towns, had been thoroughly explored by scenery enthusiasts and detail hunters. There were no uncharted territories left.

However, in Aaron's live stream, the architectural style around him was vastly different from before he was disconnected, with skyscrapers towering everywhere.

Once most of his audience had joined the stream, Aaron leisurely opened the in-game map.

"Hmm? Is there a bug? Why does the map show New Harbor?"

"This is New Harbor? Which part? I've never seen this kind of landscape before."

"Hmm, look ahead. Isn't that the government building? It's really the New Port, or should I say, the city center!"

"?????"

Gradually, the viewers in the live stream noticed something amiss, and Ah Long stopped being enigmatic. "You're not mistaken, folks. This is still the New Port, but it has undergone a transformation, likely due to that previous Replica Dungeon!"

"But didn't they say that Replica Dungeons are just illusory copies?"

"Wait...the Replica Dungeon actually altered history?"

"Well played, so the officials have remade the New Port map altogether?!!!"

The chat was filled with astonishment, and as the players regained their composure, they collectively exited Ah Long's live stream, logging into the game if they had access.

However, Ah Long wasn't at a loss. Newbies and casual viewers who hadn't drawn a slot urged him on:

"Quickly show us the differences in the New Port map!"

"How fascinating! I knew the main storyline left vestiges behind, but to remake a map because of a dungeon – the developers are truly dedicated!"

"I just want to ask, are the programmers still blessed with hair? hhhh"

"It must be pre-prepared, otherwise they couldn't have updated so quickly. Sigh, the officials really put in the effort."

"I just want to see the updated map, Aron, hurry up and show us!"

Without their prompting, Aron had already directed the camera towards the various buildings lining the streets.

The changes in the new port were visible to the naked eye.

Originally, the dominant tone of the new port was a gloomy dusk, which logically, with its seaport and favorable location, bordered by several small countries, should have been prosperous solely based on import-export trade. Yet, the previous state of the new port had been stagnant, with half-finished skyscrapers dotting the city, some neighborhoods plagued by criminal activity, and the pervasive presence of cults.

Indeed, the entire city seemed to be held back by an invisible black hand, as if it were stuck in a veil of superstition and backwardness despite being in a technologically advanced region.

But now, everything was different.

The abandoned skyscrapers had been transformed into gleaming office buildings, joined by newly constructed structures, facilities, sports arenas, and, of course, bustling commercial districts that the players in the live stream could witness teeming with crowds.

While such sights were common in Orland, this was the new port!

Curiosity piqued, Aron approached a passerby and inquired, "Brother, do you follow any religion?"

In the past, religious figures were the ones to avoid the most in New Port. To some extent, their influence surpassed that of the underworld. People on the streets would often proselytize tirelessly, but now, the passerby glanced at Aron with surprise before avoiding him as if he carried a plague.

The players in the live stream were amazed.

"The change is enormous. Is it still the same city?"

"Check if Bletchley University still exists, Aron! It's our university!"

The mention in the chat instantly grabbed the players' attention. Right, they had a university too, one they had put so much effort into.

"Apollo, no rush. I'll take the sightseeing bus and check things out along the way." Aron was also eager to know the situation at the university. Spotting a sightseeing bus at a corner, he quickly climbed aboard to the top deck, observing his surroundings with interest.

New Port had truly transformed. The atmosphere on the streets was different. In the past, it was rare for players to come across pedestrians laughing carefree; most people hurried along, not lingering on the streets. Police patrols were scarce except in the city center and affluent areas. Now, officers were visible everywhere.

Aron observed the passengers on the sightseeing bus more closely. They were carrying numerous bags, and their accents hinted at origins closer to the southeastern coast. "Hey, are you all here for tourism?"

One NPC turned back warily. Upon noticing Aron's attractive appearance, she replied, "Yes."

"Are many tourists visiting this place?"

The girl shrugged nonchalantly, "Well, the beaches here are quite famous during the summer." As she held up her tourist brochure, she added, "But we've already been there. Today, we're planning to visit the Black Death Memorial. Would you like to join us?"

Aron's gaze instantly focused on the brochure in the girl's hand. Noticing his interest, she generously lent it to him. He thanked her and, amidst the eager messages from his live stream viewers, began to read.

"The Black Death Memorial commemorates the plague that swept through New Harbor City fifty years ago, as well as the people who lost their lives and those who made great sacrifices in combating the epidemic," Aron read aloud at the request of his audience. It was clear, he had to visit this memorial!

Taking the opportunity, he posted the memorial's address on the forum before eagerly returning the promotional brochure to the girl.

"Thank you!"

She replied modestly, "You're welcome. So, would you like to come with us...?"

Before she could finish, Aron flipped and jumped over the railing, landing gracefully. He dusted off his pants and cheerfully ran towards the memorial.

Girl: ???

"Quick, quick, quick! We'll definitely be the first ones to enter!" Aron exclaimed excitedly to his live stream audience.

However, the reaction in the live stream was intriguing.

"Ah Long, you're immune to persuasion!"

"Hilarious, the expression on that girl's face!"

"Ah Long: In my heart, only popularity matters."

"Players and NPCs forming a romantic duo, no wonder you're still single!"

Despite the teasing, the live stream audience was genuinely looking forward to the memorial, especially those who had followed Ah Long's replay of the dungeon. Thanks to Ah Long's promotion, the memorial's existence became known on the forums, drawing more and more viewers into his live stream.

Fortunately, the memorial wasn't too far away. Ah Long hailed a taxi and arrived in just ten minutes.

From the outside, the memorial looked unremarkable, with a modest flow of visitors. Inside, an elderly man, seemingly on the brink of old age, was in charge of ticketing, while a few strong young men served as guides.

Entry to the memorial required a group, and Ah Long had nearly secured the last spot. However, after a moment of hesitation, he didn't follow the viewers' request to be the first one in.

"Don't worry, everyone," Ah Long addressed the live stream, "how can watching this alone compare to the thrill of having the main characters present? I've arranged a meeting with God Amongst Men and his crew."

The live stream comments couldn't help but tease him.

"Ah Long, you've grown up. You know how to ride on the coattails of big shots now."

"This is a bit mean, hahaha, but I'm so looking forward to it!"

"Since such significant changes have happened at the new harbor, it must mean that traces of the big shots' deeds remain! I can't wait!"

"It feels like we're witnessing history in a strange way!"

Soon, players who had been involved in the incident, such as God on Earth, Milk Tea Dog, Blood Disciple, Tax Collector, Pink Bunny, and Science Student, arrived one after another. Ah Long, being very socially skilled, approached them to greet and successfully exchanged contact information with them.

As they had just enough people, they eagerly went to the old man to pay the entrance fee.

The gatekeeper was almost bald, with a pair of seemingly blurry eyes. Staring at God on Earth for a long time without speaking, Ah Long assumed he couldn't see the amount of money clearly and kindly read it out to him, "Old man, you still need to give us back 10 Xi Yuan."

The old man came back to his senses and asked God on Earth with a complicated expression, "What's your name?"

"Austin."

"Is there... anyone in your family named Simon?"

"No."

The old man fell silent, took their money, and led them inside.

The memorial hall was air-conditioned, with a solemn and dignified ambiance. Walls were adorned with photographs.

The guide explained, "These pictures were taken by journalists at the time. Fifty years ago, the plague, known as the Black Death, made its last major appearance and swept through the entire city. With the medical knowledge of that era, it could have been eradicated before it spread. Unfortunately, due to human factors, the plague wasn't dealt with promptly and properly in the beginning."

"What factors?" A regular tourist asked out of curiosity.

The guide replied, "Before I answer that, I assume you all noticed the anti-superstition advertisements when you first arrived in this city, right?"

"Yes, not just on large screens, but also on various modes of transportation."

"Indeed, we don't oppose our citizens' religious beliefs. We're cautious simply because we've suffered from disasters," said the young guide. An old, raspy voice interrupted, "An organization called the Salvation Society had control over this city."

The young guide turned around and said helplessly, "Old man, aren't you retired?"

The old man ignored him and continued, "That church controlled the entry and exit of the city, preventing the people inside from contacting the outside world. They slowed down the flow of information so that we could only rely on them for news. We were led to believe that the plague was severe but was gradually improving under their control."

The few people from God on Earth looked at the photographs and text displayed on the wall with curiosity. Although they had personally experienced these events, it felt to them as if it had all happened just a dozen minutes ago.

It was only through these black-and-white photographs and cold written accounts that the passage of fifty years and its weight could be truly sensed. In these images, crude and backward hospital wards were filled with countless dying patients lying in disarray. There were also remnants of the church's propaganda platforms in some suburban areas, along with some perplexing bloodletting tools and vessels that seemed absurd to the uninitiated. God on Earth stared at one of these photos for a long time before suddenly pointing at the instruments and laughing.

"The church must have calmed the people through bloodletting, huh."

"Yes, how did you know?" the young tour guide said in puzzlement.

Bloodthirster and Milk Tea Dog chuckled. "Because we've tried it ourselves!"

The young tour guide and the other tourists were left with question marks above their heads.

The guide was confused for a few seconds, assuming they were joking. He then turned to continue his explanation about the church. "The Church of the Savior is a cult. They manipulate public sentiment using myths and ghost stories, claiming that blood can cure the Black Death. On the contrary, blood is actually one of the ways the disease spreads..."

"In reality, they've been secretly stockpiling medicine and distributing it to those who drink the blood, creating an illusion that the patients are improving."

Someone inquired, "How did people back then uncover this deceit?"

The young guide smiled, his face glowing with admiration as he said, "One of the Savior's priests, guided by his conscience, could no longer bear to see the people suffer under the plague. He defied the Church and allied himself with the leader of the resistance at that time, a man named Anthony."

Next came a photograph of Anthony, though the figure that should have stood beside him was represented by a black silhouette.

"Due to various reasons, the priest left behind no images. We only know of his existence through fragmented accounts from others. Nevertheless, he was undoubtedly a key figure in the opposition against the Church."

"It's indeed an impressive accomplishment, but it feels so awkward knowing that the big shots are listening too."

"Upstairs, isn't it strange like listening to an NPC narrating someone's life story in a graveyard?"

"Exactly that feeling!"

"Sigh, we can only listen here in the graveyard, while those reenacting the scenario have a whole memorial museum."

"Hahaha, so prestigious!"

"Is this the big shot's first memorial museum?"

"Folks upstairs don't count. I heard that the Arkham government is planning to build a Norman King Memorial."

"Holy cow, that's too prestigious!"

The God Amongst Men maintained a composed expression, but the players sitting beside him couldn't hold back their laughter. Bloodthirsty, who had a good relationship with God Amongst Men, nudged him with his elbow, "You'll go down in history!"

God Amongst Men glanced at them helplessly and whispered, "Same to you."

As they moved on to the next area, the players completely lost it.

"Cough, well, Father Simon and his companions devised an ingenious solution back then, in the face of the Church's information lockdown," the guide explained, a touch of awkwardness and amusement still evident in their voice, despite having recounted this tale hundreds or thousands of times before.

"The approach was to create and distribute adult magazines, using them as a medium to convey information to thousands of isolated households. Well, it turns out that this method was quite effective. As you can see, the exhibition currently features one of those magazines. It is said to have been drawn by Bill Innes, a city resident who was dissatisfied with the church at the time, and it holds significant collectible value."

The Pink Bunny, who had just been teasing about the divine presence on Earth, immediately lost its composure. Bill was the card it had anticipated.

The barrage of comments unleashed relentless mockery.

"Ahahaha, a notebook destined for the annals of history!"

"Well, I'm utterly impressed."

"I recall the big shot mentioning that her illustrations reflect her own preferences, right?"

"Unbelievable, truly unbelievable. Others leave behind a legacy of selflessness, but Pink Bunny leaves behind... those books."

"Speaking of such preferences... No, please don't."

"Just the thought that these scenarios might have publicly influenced some NPCs' tastes, it's enough to make me laugh until I die."

The guide found it odd. Typically, this area drew the most enthusiastic response from visitors, provoking knowing smiles and chuckles from both men and women. But with this group, something was different.

They were laughing, yes, but it seemed forced, and they kept patting the shoulder of a now-stunned companion.

"Don't mind it, buddy, oh wait, sister."

"What's wrong with drawing books? Haven't we all dabbled in it at some point?"

"Exactly, aren't there plenty of risqué masterpieces in historical paintings? Everyone uses symbolism, while you depict various... scenarios."

"But have faith, perhaps the myriad of classic plot twists in later generations originated right here! You're the ancestor of the doujinshi world!"

"Enough with your nonsense!" Pink Bunny was regretting her decision to visit this place, especially with the guide's enthusiastic descriptions and exaggerated praise, making it feel like her own illustrations were being publicly critiqued.

Where, oh where, is the time machine?!!

After enduring the awkwardness that made Pink Bunny wish she could burrow into the ground, the group's laughter and chatter faded away.

The guide's expression turned solemn. In the exhibition hall stood a replica of a hospital ward, recreating the scene from that era.

The white hospital bed, medicines, and fake blood on the dummy patient transported visitors back to the hospitals overwhelmed by the Black Death fifty years ago.

"After the information spread throughout the city through ero-manga magazines, the Church, realizing they had been exposed, turned hostile. They deliberately loosened their control, causing chaos. A large number of people were infected during that period, nearly paralyzing the hospitals. It was also the most severe phase of the plague outbreak, with nearly 500 deaths per day."

"Yet, amidst this turmoil, a group of people stepped forward. They stole medicine from the Church, saving countless lives."

"Of course, we must also express gratitude to the healthcare workers who remained at their posts. Without them, the death toll would have been even higher. Despite their protective measures in the primitive sanitary conditions of the time, many doctors and nurses unfortunately fell victim to the plague themselves."

"Luckily, in the darkest hour, an engineer within the city, along with his unidentified companion, took a stand. Collaborating with Father Simon, they used a hot air balloon to signal for help outside while the Church was occupied with its sacred feast. And it was Father Simon who exposed their scheme during the very same church banquet."

The young tour guide's voice was compelling: "The outside world finally became aware of the situation here. The lockdown was lifted, and many journalists came to document it. After the news broke, it caused a national uproar. Many aid workers entered the city, saving countless lives."

"Yet, those who first stood up against the church are forever gone from us."

Reaching the final section, the group was surprised to find an old notebook displayed in a showcase, open to its middle pages.

"This belonged to the leader of the resistance against the church, Mr. Anthony. He said he didn't want to take all the credit. It's the story of everyone together. Though many vanished amidst the chaos and their traces may never be found, their names should be remembered."

Some emotionally sensitive visitors teared up at this, and the players' playful expressions turned serious as they examined the listed names.

"Can we look at the notebook?" a tourist asked.

The guide hesitated, "I'm sorry, for preservation, it's not usually taken out. You can read these few open pages. There's Bill Innis, Andy Hado, Bernie Calvin, Simon..."

He named some of the names on the pages. After reciting two pages, the guide stumbled. At that moment, the old man who had been silently following them spoke up:

"Alec Meller, Jennifer Cooper, Lily O'Ginnick, Bessie Banyan, Jonah Gillette, Anthony Kissinger..."

Everyone fell silent, listening intently as the old man recited the names. The players also looked at him with a sense of awe.

"Fors Bonner." The last name rolled off his tongue, and the guide, eager to present him, announced, "This is Dr. Fors, one of the heroes who battled the plague back then, and also the curator of this memorial."

The crowd couldn't help but cheer in delight, applause echoing around. However, the old man was not impressed. "Not for me, for them."

He glanced at the group of young strangers, their faces unfamiliar. Perhaps out of disappointment or some other emotion, he turned away, seemingly losing interest. He was too old now, his eyes failing him to the point that he had almost mistaken Simon for standing before him. This young man's aura reminded him of that person, but reflecting on it, even if he were still alive, he would probably have aged into a similar old man.

Yet, more applause and cries rang from behind him.

"Dr. Fors."

Fors turned around to see Sanzang among the crowd, looking intently at him. "Thank you."

Thank you for remembering us.