The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

The top-left of the screen displayed the date, time, and temperature, as well as the inventory.

Temperature was a very important factor. As someone who had seen the design documents, Uffie knew winter would eventually come later in the game, and a steep drop in temperature would require more fuel.

She had to stock up in advance.

The first day went very smoothly. She collected some canned food, vegetables, water, wood, and parts—all very useful supplies.

The female journalist, digging through a pile of rubble, lamented how much she wished she had a shovel.

'Oh, right, a shovel.'

'You need tools to survive better.'

Uffie moved one of her characters to the workbench to see how to make a shovel.

"A shovel needs, uh, a metal workbench..."

Uffie quite liked this feeling of gathering resources and building things up bit by bit.

It was very fulfilling. And watching her supplies gradually increase, even though they were just data, still brought a sense of satisfaction. Similarly, she also loved farming games. Farming was clearly a chore in real life, but it was surprisingly fun as a game.

Uffie got the shovel she wanted and also crafted a rainwater collector.

'Water is definitely the most important thing. You can last a long time without food, but you're finished without water.'

She was going to build a comfortable and warm shelter for these poor souls caught in the war.

Soon, night fell.

At night, each character had four options.

Scavenge for supplies, stand guard at the shelter, sleep, and sleep in a bed.

'Crap, I forgot to make them beds.'

Uffie knew how awful it was to sleep without a bed. She had made do at the office while working overtime before, just throwing a blanket on the floor to get by.

When she woke up, she just felt uncomfortable all over, and her mental fatigue hadn't eased at all.

'They'll just have to make do for one night. I'll definitely make beds tomorrow.'

Uffie chose to send the fastest character, the athlete, out to scavenge, while the cook stood guard and the female journalist slept.

Exploration could only be done at night because, during the day, patrols that could appear from anywhere would attack any living thing they saw.

The already oppressive atmosphere of the game grew even more grim in the dark of night.

Uffie chose to explore a map called "Shelled Cottage."

In the darkness, she couldn't see the layout of the house. There was only a RUSTLING sound, along with a few distant barks.

Knowing there were soldiers and bandits in the game, Uffie proceeded with caution.

She didn't have any weapons right now; she had no means to fight.

She cautiously pushed the door open, her hands sweating from the tension.

'It would be so unlucky to get killed by bandits on the very first day.'

Luckily, the sounds were just rats.

"Phew, I thought it was something else," Uffie said, sighing in relief.

As you could tell from the map's name, the house wasn't exactly intact.

The things she could find were mostly junk, but for Uffie, who had nothing, they were still very important.

This led to a dilemma.

The athlete's inventory only had twelve slots, so there was a limit to what she could take.

'Which supplies should I choose?'

"There's food! Quick, grab the food! We don't have enough back home."

Seeing her hesitating while looking at the inventory, one of her colleagues who had been watching couldn't help but speak up.

"Why grab food? They won't starve in a day or two. If you ask me, take the bullets first. At least we can defend ourselves. This is a warzone."

"What's the use of bullets? Do you even have a gun?"

The saying "a gentleman does not offer advice while watching a chess game" is a virtue for a reason—it's truly agonizing to hold your tongue while watching someone else play.

Otherwise, things like livestream comments or discussion forums wouldn't have become industry standards.

Her colleagues bickered back and forth nonstop.

"Hey, can you all quiet down for a second?" Uffie finally snapped. "I'm the one playing. If you have so many opinions on what to take, go download the game yourself."

After hesitating for a long time, Uffie made her decision. "I'm going to take the wood and parts to build the beds first."

Hearing her decision, her colleagues looked like they wanted to argue but managed to restrain themselves.

With a backpack full of supplies, Uffie returned to the shelter.

She was greeted by a slew of character statuses: Hunger, Fatigue, Poor Sleep, and more.

The ones who stayed behind clearly hadn't had a good night either.

Build beds, cook food, clear the remaining rubble in the house, make a few lockpicks, open the locked door upstairs.

There was so much to do that Uffie didn't let any of her three characters rest.

'They just have to endure it for a little while,' she thought.

However, problems arose one after another.

Another two days passed in the game. The Fatigue and Hunger statuses still hadn't been cleared, and the cook had gained a new status: "Unwell."

It looked like he was about to get sick.

Despite being so busy, their supplies were still insufficient.

A knock came from outside the shelter. Someone had risked being shot in broad daylight to come here.

Uffie initially thought it was a trader.

'Traders really do show up under any circumstances.'

'Such an unparalleled work ethic.'

It was just that the traders here didn't use common methods of exchange. They preferred to barter. They'd take money too, but not at peacetime prices.

A bundle of cash for a bottle of water, a jewel for a can of food.

And you couldn't even complain. Who knew if cash would just become scrap paper later on?

Uffie sent the female journalist to open the door.

She had a talent for haggling and was planning to trade for some good items.

However, when the door opened, she saw a frantic-looking man.

He said a nearby safe zone had been attacked, but there were still a few survivors. He needed people to help with the rescue and, if possible, hoped they could spare some water and medicine. He promised he would definitely repay them in the future.

An attack on a safe zone. The war's background, which had never been explicitly mentioned, was finally hinted at.

Uffie's first reaction was to click "Agree."

'What's there to hesitate about when it comes to saving people?'

But just as her mouse cursor hovered over the agree button, she stopped.

'He needs people, but I only have three, and the cook is unwell.'

'I have some water, but only a few meds. What if the cook gets sick and I have nothing to treat him with?'

This decision, which she normally wouldn't have struggled with at all, suddenly became difficult.

Uffie started to consider the cost-benefit ratio.

In this harsh environment, the importance of morality and justice seemed to be slowly diminishing.

'Survive. Survival is the primary objective.'

Uffie looked at her colleagues in conflict, wanting to ask for their opinions.

Her colleagues waved their hands, gesturing that she was the one who told them not to talk.

"Hey! I need you guys now! Are you going to help or not?!"

"If you ask me, don't help. We're already struggling to survive ourselves. Where are we going to find the energy to save others?"

"We at least have a place to live. The safe zone is in that state... Shouldn't we help the weak?"

"Helping the weak shouldn't mean sacrificing ourselves. We should only do what's within our means."

"I think we should help. He said he'd repay us. Zog wouldn't set up a scenario where you help someone only to get screwed over, right? What's that thing he always says? 'Games are meant to be played by players.'"

"Don't be so sure. I've seen the design documents. There are definitely scenarios like that. Haven't you noticed that the 'play' feel of this game is different from others?"

The more people there were, the harder it was to reach a consensus.

In the end, Uffie still clicked "Agree."

She chose to follow her own moral compass.

"Sigh..."

The colleagues who thought she shouldn't help sighed.

"At least helping will improve their mood, right?" Uffie said.

Mood was also a very important factor in this game. If a character had a mental breakdown, there was a high chance they would commit suicide.

In a hopeless war, death could perhaps be a form of release.

The female journalist character went to help, taking some water and their only medicine with her.

For the time being, only the athlete and the cook remained in the shelter.

Another night fell. The athlete had to go out and scavenge for supplies, or there would be no food tomorrow. As for the cook, Uffie had him sleep in a bed.

No one was left to stand guard.

After returning from a night of scavenging, she pushed open the door only to receive the message that the shelter had been robbed.

Uffie had lost her only food, and the cook's condition had changed to "Injured," leaving him barely able to move.

The hand controlling the mouse trembled slightly.

This was the first time a game had made her feel so wronged.

Even that other game, *Holy Mountain Journey*, which was designed to torment players, hadn't made her feel this way.

'I tried so hard, but I'm still so powerless in this damn war.'

She had no choice. The athlete, already exhausted for several days, had to continue scavenging. There were no other characters left in the shelter.

A new map appeared tonight.

Quiet House.

Uffie decided to go check it out.

She had now learned how to peer through the keyhole to see what was inside a house.

Through the narrow line of sight, she could see a relatively cozy atmosphere inside.

A tidy environment, a burning fireplace, and an elderly couple who looked gentle and refined.

They seemed like they would be easy to talk to.

'Maybe they'll help.'

With this in mind, Uffie controlled the athlete to push open the door.

"Who are you? How did you get in?" the old man inside asked, standing up.