Chapter 379 – Dongqing Earthquake (Part 11)
“The visitor doesn’t come with good intentions!”
Even though the System was merely a bundle of data, after years of interacting with Jiang Pengji, it had grown increasingly familiar with her temperament. Hearing her tone like that made the System’s heart skip a beat, its nerves taut as a bowstring. After careful consideration, it finally replied, “What does the host want?”
Jiang Pengji, taking advantage of her solitude, found a flat spot to sit down, her fingers pressed together, radiating an aura of calm.
Little did she know, the more relaxed she appeared, the more anxious the System felt inside.
Jiang Pengji spoke nonchalantly, “Remember the snow disaster in the capital years ago? I asked you if I could exchange popularity points for food. You told me my live stream level was too low, and even if it was high enough, ten thousand points would only buy me a measly hundred jin of food, right?”
The System was different from living beings; it had backend data, so forgetting was an impossibility.
Jiang Pengji’s detailed recollection left the System with no choice but to answer. Connecting the dots with the magnitude of the recent earthquake, the System felt a wave of relief, realizing what Jiang Pengji was leading up to. “Does the host want to exchange popularity points for food? Given that the anchor’s live stream level has risen to level four, the exchange section can be opened. If you wish to exchange for food, you can do so now.”
Heh… greedy little thing, Jiang Pengji thought as she lowered her eyes, hiding the disdain within.
She hadn’t budged back then, so why would she now?
Aside from her own accumulated twenty-three million popularity points, the remaining thirty-three million in the backend account came from the live stream audience’s gifts for disaster relief, and that was already assuming the System had claimed half of it.
In other words, since the earthquake struck, the audience had raised at least sixty-six million!
Jiang Pengji had previously gauged the audience, knowing their general price levels.
One yuan in gifts equals one popularity point.
The System’s exchange rate was ten thousand points for a hundred jin of food.
What does that mean?
It means ten thousand yuan buys a hundred jin of rice.
The rice prices on the live-stream side varied, but typically, a standard twenty jin of premium rice was around fifty yuan.
Running the numbers makes it painfully clear just how greedy the System really is.
If it were an ordinary situation, considering the System’s occasional usefulness, Jiang Pengji might have turned a blind eye and let it siphon off a profit.
You fatten a pig to slaughter it, right?
However, the gifts were meant for disaster relief. Jiang Pengji had promised the audience something, and she would keep that promise.
So, she could negotiate with the System, but the rate had to be adjusted.
“Ten thousand points for a hundred jin of food? Don’t you think that’s a bit like robbing people in their time of need?” Jiang Pengji smirked.
The System retorted, “Transactions are based on mutual agreement. Where’s the robbery in that?”
Jiang Pengji inwardly sneered at this; did the System think it could act tough just because she hadn’t schooled it recently?
She guessed the System thought she wanted to exchange for food and had to negotiate with it—so it grew emboldened?
With a click of her tongue, she nonchalantly fidgeted with her fingers, seemingly lost in thought.
“Can’t that rate be adjusted?” she asked.
The System replied, “It cannot. That’s the established rate of production. Neither the host nor the System has the right to change it.”
Upon hearing this, Jiang Pengji sighed deeply in her heart.
Some people always seemed like petty nuisances, never realizing when they were stepping on the wrong toes, making one want to roll their eyes.
She chose not to continue negotiating with the System. Instead, she swiped her right index finger through the air, pulling up her personal attributes.
Her attribute panel was growing longer, with various data categories becoming increasingly detailed.
She skipped over the meaningless content and locked onto [Basic Martial Force 51 points, Fusion Martial Force +67 points].
Back when she left the capital with Mr. Yuanjing, she had fused her martial power once, leading to a System upgrade. After spending half a year in Langya, completing numerous mundane tasks and boring live stream content, she had fused her martial force again, causing the System to “coincidentally” upgrade again.
After a stalemate of half an incense stick’s time, the System finally asked, “Do you want to exchange for food?”
“Do you think I should?”
She countered with a smile, yet her eyes held no flicker of emotion, cold as ancient ice.
After hesitating, the System suggested, “Based on backend calculations, I recommend exchanging. This earthquake’s epicenter was a magnitude of 7.8, and there have already been five aftershocks. In just the capital alone, the death toll exceeds thirty thousand…”
Don’t underestimate that thirty thousand; the capital’s common population was about 120,000, plus the 100,000 stationed Imperial Guards, totaling roughly 220,000.
Imperial Guards mostly lived in military camps, so their casualties were minimal after the earthquake.
In other words, disregarding the Imperial Guards, the death rate among the capital’s common people has already reached one-fourth.
That was just of the confirmed dead; the number of those buried under rubble but still holding on was even higher.
The System laid out the data, clearly telling Jiang Pengji: If she wanted to play the saint, she shouldn’t be stingy with her points; if she was stingy with points, then don’t keep whining—so what if it was exploiting the disaster? Not its fault if people died; it’s none of its business…
Understanding the underlying message, Jiang Pengji didn’t feel humiliated; instead, she revealed an inscrutable expression.
The System initially thought Jiang Pengji would eventually relent, but soon it sensed something was off.
She was far too composed!
Did it lose its own composure?
Jiang Pengji casually continued, “System, we’ve been bound for three or four years now, and I don’t think I’ve formally introduced myself.”
The System felt a slight discomfort but couldn’t pinpoint why. It could only follow along and ask, “Haven’t you introduced yourself before?”
A long time ago, when Jiang Pengji had a poor relationship with her audience, she had introduced herself to vent frustration.
“I did, but not fully.” Jiang Pengji shifted the topic away from food exchanges, which only made the System even more unsettled. She said, “Now that I think about it, I should properly introduce myself again. Name: Jiang Pengji, profession: General of the Federation, gender: Female, Commander of the Seventh Legion, wielding one-tenth of the Federation’s actual power…”
“I know all this,” the System replied, sounding patient but growing increasingly impatient.
Heroes don’t dwell on past glories.
“No, I haven’t finished my statement.” Jiang Pengji continued, “The selection for the Commander has a hard requirement…”
“What kind of ridiculous requirement?” the System interjected.
“The mental domain development level must at least reach 3S level,” Jiang Pengji responded flatly.
This answer struck the System like a lightning bolt, akin to a bomb being detonated in its mind.
The System remained silent, prompting Jiang Pengji to add, “Scientists categorize mental domain levels from the lowest F to the highest 3S, with a total of twenty-one levels. Each level advancement signifies a qualitative leap in the mental domain. A higher level does not equate to higher intelligence or greater development—only to increased mental energy… What are you running from?”
Before her words could finish, a subtle source of energy seemed to peel away from her brain, a pure mental force binding it tightly.
“System… tell me, what are you escaping from? Hmm?”
