Asia, both in real life and in Immortal Frontier, was submerged in the darkness of night, but it didn't sleep, with a third of the playerbase being active, especially those who had a day-time job. After all, most of them were casuals, who sought adventure, socialization and entertainment, and didn't count on any substantial income.

The same was true even for mega- and super-guilds. The vast majority of their members were not bound by any formal agreements and retained a high degree of freedom, merely being obligated to fulfill a minimum quota of contributions for the benefits they gained, like security, prestige, respect, sense of belonging, or access to well-organized hunting parties, lucrative grinding spots, information and business networks, competent training, shared interest clubs and circles, crafting lodges, etc.

The contribution systems were extremely well developed and standardized by this point, establishing the auxiliary arm of each professional association, comprised of outer members – the primary one being made up of contracted, inner members, that is the actual employees, and then there was the core, divided into lower and upper echelon.

Contribution points, commonly called credit, were basically an internal currency to be exchanged for additional privileges, and although they couldn't be traded directly between players, there were ways to partially circumvent that, like ceding some of the acquired rights to a buyer.

Naturally, the ranks one could attain as an outer member spanned a wide spectrum, from a grunt to an officer, and with sufficient input it was even possible to be promoted to a core member. But there was no deluding oneself – those guys were cheap labor, nothing more. Whenever the guild issued new directives, they were supposed to listen and obediently move according to the will of their leaders, akin to hired muscle, only they didn't receive any monetary payment.

Motivating one's voluntary manpower to farming gold for the guild treasury (or whatever strategic resources were required), was an art in itself. In Immortal Frontier's case it was somewhat unique because of the tutorial, but it boiled down to the same thing – an investment in the future. The worth of game currency constantly fluctuated within guilds, and contributing it early meant more points. It also saved players the hassle of finding buyers and footing money transfer fees, which ate away at their meager harvests.

Besides, the black market wasn't a place for casuals, so their gold had an expiration date anyway, hence the various guilds had so much of it at their disposal. It would be a completely different story in the full version, where everyone could legally sell their coins. There, the most routinely exploited approach would be tax avoidance, that is purchasing gold for promotional vouchers from associates, stakeholders and business partners, which the law could do nothing about so long as they were used for private consumption – obviously, peddling so acquired merchandise was illegal.

And then there was crafting.

This career choice was quite luxurious, with a high entry bar. Not that independent artisans couldn't make it, but they certainly had it tough compared to those with backing. Since profitability was based on one's success rates, having good tools of trade, access to a creative environment (including safety in the advent of full realism, which delivered sensations so vital to crafters) and enough materials to work non-stop was essential to be competitive. Meanwhile, there were innumerable wannabes manufacturing tons of trivial items and flooding the market with cheap wares. For that reason, a fourth factor had to be satisfied in order to turn this profession into a lucrative one – massive throughput, which, absent starting capital, was only achievable with help from legions of hunters and gatherers.

Top crafters were almost always core members of large guilds, boasting enviable contracts and bestowed with all the resources they needed. They were housed in proper workshops, given the best blueprints, designs and recipes, then provided all the materials and ingredients. Logically, their entire yield belonged to the guild, and would either strategically serve the core members, be sold on the outside as a specialty with high margin, or internally at a discount, as a benefit to all members.

That last option was of utmost importance. Nurturing experts meant a lot of inferior and failed products, which had to be squeezed for all the residual value they held, not to mention the enormous volumes of ordinary stock flowing from throngs of average crafters grinding experience.

That's why guild warehouses were so pivotal in their development. Here, the members could shop for bargains, paying with gold, a combination of gold and credit, or credit alone if the item was exclusive – the more remarkable ones would even get auctioned off, often prompting coin donations for quick credit.

But this was only the beginning. Immortal Frontier had merely been up for four and a half days, and mastering the miscellaneous subclasses was a slow burn, with most chief crafters stuck at the intermediate rank, and few having barely entered the advanced one – this, of course, was not publicly known, as it pertained to guild foundations. The minimum for crafting fine quality, however, that is magically enhanced items, was expert rank, and that didn't take into consideration the level of materials used – normally an apprentice master was required.

Generally speaking, the spread of proficiency ranks reflected the ranks of quality, with adepts at ranks 1-4 and masters at ranks 5-8.

Beginner crafters operated in the realm of inferior quality items.

Intermediate crafters – common quality.

Advanced crafters – good quality.

Expert crafters – great quality.

Apprentice masters – fine quality.

Masters – superior quality.

Elder masters – masterwork quality.

Great masters – supreme quality.

Sure, it was possible to surpass the threshold and attempt to produce quality exceeding one's realm, but that came at the cost of success rates. And there was another complication when stepping into the domain of high quality, that is ranks 5 to 8 – one had to bring together precision and magical artistry, either by letting a crafter collaborate with a magical engineer, or by having a specialist do the job, like a magesmith, mageweaver or formulator.

This was easier said than done.

For one, high level materials were impossible to handle at this stage of the game, which disqualified most of the blueprints, and the rest contained designs for mediocre and generic items, typically sold by NPCs at affordable prices. Two – while collaboration demanded deep familiarity between the co-workers, specialists took more time to nurture. Last, but not least – hardly any magical materials could be found in the instanced dungeons, forcing the exploration of the open world.

The open world …

It was a perilous place, not for the faint of heart. Outside of safe and common areas, where outlaws and dark players were still betrayed by red-to-black markers of hue intensity appropriate to their stigma, every passer-by encountered was a potential PKer, eager for your loot. The monsters were also not degraded like the ones on expeditions, plus they weren't restrained, but roamed freely across vast swaths of land, and the predators actively hunted for whatever prey they sniffed out, including people.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Here, far away from revival, teleportation terminals and temple services, strength in numbers was the number one rule of survival. Understandably, this was the territory of large guilds, and a battlefield on which they duked it out for the most valuable prizes – hidden locations abounding in wealth. These could be ore veins, mineral deposits, mana nodes, wild magical gardens, grinding spots, a whole variety of man-made structures, whether lost or occupied, and – most prominently – quests.

In this exciting theater of cold – and sometimes hot – war, the real high-stakes were involved. A single lucky find could turn into an astronomical gain, to the point of changing the status quo. And since this was an era of subterfuge and spies, many of whom were deeply rooted in the midst of rival forces, playing neverending cat and mouse with counterintelligence sections – such discoveries inevitably sparked intense negotiations, which arose organically to maintain the delicate balance. After all, if they weren't one-sided, armed conflicts only served those who stood by and watched as their competitors weakened each other, so they were usually treated as last resort, and avoided like fire.

Therefore, guild foundations were paramount. In such a state of affairs, those who held the most leverage would come out on top. That is until their tyrannical rule provoked an alliance to bring them down a notch …

Ultimately, it could all be summarized into the same, old, regurgitated, disgusting, insidious … politics.

…

Xielong conglomerate headquarters, Beijing-Tianjin megalopolis.

It would soon dawn in this time zone, and the rural behemoth was slowly waking up from its slumber for another day full of enterprises.

“Good morning, Grandpa … here, my report from Geneva for you …”

“Ah, good morning, Chang-Chang. You haven't slept yet? You shouldn't waste your health like that.”

“I know …”

“I hear you haven't been fortuitous there, hmm? Would you like to return?”

“No! I mean … no, I'd like to linger for a while, Grandpa … and I made Jade Lotus reimburse me fully!”

“Well done, my child. What's with those necklaces I'm reading about, we have a few, don't we?”

“Yes, Grandpa. I've informed the vice guild leaders, and they're freeing up the funds. On my side they're all gone already, but we still have the mainland and the American divisions.”

“Mhm. We need to buy all that we can, so hurry. Oh? One hour to clear a stone crab habitat? Another peerless expert? This Lionheart fellow is quite interesting!”

“Yes, but I wonder … is it a worthwhile application of Confuse?”

“I very much doubt it, at least for us. Every mage with Confuse is a strategic resource, best used in high-rank dungeon conquests. For small guilds and adventuring teams, however, this is indeed a brilliant scheme. Anyway, they must be spending a lot on mana … potions!”

“That's what I thought, Grandpa. Confuse can be speedily and cheaply mastered this way, right?”

“Precisely! Haha, I see you're learning fast, my dear Chang-Chang. Good, excellent! Send our people there to grind proficiencies!”

“Yes, Grandpa! And we have to do it secretly from one of our towns, because if the world found out, gold would get devalued.”

“Absolutely. You have the makings of greatness in you, young lady! I'm proud of you!”

“Thank you, Grandpa …”

…

Shiva's Hand mega-guild headquarters, Mumbai.

It was the dead of night, but the entire upper echelon in the gaming colossus was on call round the clock. Even the guild leader wasn't exempt from this obligation.

“Boss Rudra, I'm sorry for waking you up.”

“It's alright, Gian, this is a critical time. What do you have for me?”

“We've produced the first fine quality item, as you wished.”

“Wonderful! Is it the pulse grenade?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Marvelous! Haha, Gian, do you realize how big this is?!”

“I do, Boss. Unfortunately, the costs are still prohibitive.”

“Not for long! Tell the artificer to persist and master the design!”

“Right away, Boss. We've also received an update from Geneva, and it seems that Lionheart character has devised another ingenious system, this time for rapidly training Confuse with minimal input. I've dispatched our mages to covertly do the same.”

“Splendid! Well done, Gian. Hmm? In spite of such good news, you don't look happy. Something's bothering you, isn't it? Spit it out.”

“Ehh … here, it's about this item.”

“The Necklace of Preservation? I've instructed you to buy them all out before the price spikes like with the scrolls, then resell them for enormous profit.”

“Yes, I know, Boss …”

“So what's the problem? You can't secure the financing? This should be our number one priority!"

“No-no, we now have the gold … and we're looking for them everywhere, but … they're gone! And it's not players, Boss, it's NPCs who are buying them out!”

“What?!”

“And they don't budge, no matter how generous of an offer we extend. I even told one of my men to keep raising it until they do, which only irritated the NPC, and they eventually revealed the necklaces will be available at an auction during the day!”

“Those scoundrels! Is this Cybercore's doing?”

“Boss, you're not implying … ?”

“No, of course not! I'm merely hinting at the possibility of them implementing precautions against such sudden exploitation to prevent large guilds from manipulating the markets. Either way, contact all of our branches and agents. Scour the whole world!”

“Boss … I already said … they're all gone …”