Prelude: February Fourteenth_2

Weight: 1.5kg

Usage: Create a Fire Barrier for ten minutes / Summon a Totem with relatively low defensive power (attributes depend on the environment) / Launch a mixed element pulse.

[Note: Magic rod created by the young gnome magician, Miss Milu Qian. It contains various element properties, can effectively deal with various situations, but is expensive.]

As soon as Motan saw the last four words in the note, he raised his head intending to decline, but found that the gnome girl had left without him noticing. He thus stashed this favor in his heart, storing the high-quality consumable in his bag before standing up to leave...

He had to seize the time, for he didn't know when his night would come to an end.

...

[You have urgently disconnected. Please select whether you want to reconnect.]

"Yes."

[Reconnection started...]

[Connection completed, reading character information]

[Welcome back, neutral Tan Mo. You are about to enter the realm of innocence, let's make a performance to your heart's content!]

...

East of the innocent continent - City of Freedom

"Hehe~" Motan's mouth, hidden under his hood, twitched up slightly. Suddenly, he melded into his shadow at his feet. After a moment, he, who had originally been sitting in a bustling tavern, appeared at the side of the street, with two more coin purses in his hand.

No one recognized him as his current appearance was entirely different from the gloomy hooded man in the tavern, shrouded in a gray cloak. Now, Motan had on a pair of exquisite, delicate gold-framed glasses, wore a white robe adorned with rose-colored frills, had a huge book in his left hand, a silver harp in his right, seeming every bit a Bard. Of course, the Bard was indeed one of his many identities...

Pulling a silver coin casually out from his pocket and tossing it to the half-Dragon fruit seller near him, Motan exaggeratedly bent over and bit into an apple from the vendor's stall. Afterward, he plucked the strings of his harp, strumming a melodious and soothing tune, and began singing lushly with emotion:

"Black king stands~in thorny halls, gazing~at his Scepter!"

"White elephant's warcry breaching all borders, roaring~in battleground!"

"Queen meditates, cup of poison rose clashes~deadly trap~hidden!"

"Knight's mad rush, sword sweeps aside all in his path~Battleflag~soaring!"

"Next second, what will you think next?"

"At that moment, who will hurt for me?"

"Who plays their piece, exchanging his paradise?"

"Be a puppet, lingering by her side!"

"On the chariot, black flag dances~ takes flight~ thunderous boom!"

"Under the white steed, female Knight~ suffers injuries~hums softly!"

"Memories whispering in ears~ resound!"

"Black soldier draws blade~slashes up!"

"Remember that small workshop~ on the table"

"We of the grey, without~ faith"

"You, leaning on it with your sword~ hum softly"

"I watch~infatuated and silent."

"Now you and I, wear different coats~Stand in the~battlefield!"

"But can't forget, the distant and remote view of the past~ you are~in my heart!"

"Battered chariot succumbs, collapses on the open field~ Ways of my heart~ mad!"

"Hooves sound, as remembered in that gaze~ We~are lost!"

With that, Motan carelessly strummed his harp on the street and danced to the rhythm of the melody. His body swayed with the tune and even the sound of him biting into the apple during the pauses of the lyrics sounded like accompaniment. Almost everyone's gaze was drawn to him, and Motan, whose expressions shifted between sorrow, recklessness, gloom, and extravagance, enjoyed the attention.

Doing what he wanted, feeling joyful at the moment, what's wrong with casually picking a couple of wallets and suddenly bursting into song? Even if such acts brought no benefit, what mattered was the joy it brought him~

Anyone could see that the dissolute-looking bard was completely different from the righteous Knight temporarily stationed at Pamira Harbor. Although in many respects, they were indeed two different people...

Even Motan could not deny that they were actually the same person.

But it didn't matter, no one could link them together. Even if anyone heard of both, they wouldn't imagine them to be the same person~

Because all players knew that they could only create one character in the innocent continent.

As for the NPC's, they wouldn't be foolish enough to recognize two individuals who, despite their striking resemblance, are entirely different in character and standpoint, as a single person.

Indeed, 'their' social circles in the game were entirely different.

"In Knight's dirge, pear blossom across her face~ Whispering~ humming~"

After closing his eyes and singing the last part, the area at his foot was filled with silver coins and copper coins. Motan bowed to the crowd that had unknowingly gathered around him.

Before the crowd could fully disperse, Motan had already turned into a small alley with a spring in his step, and was soon surrounded by several masked individuals, as expected.

"Oh~ Long time no see, Muse." As he put his harp in his bag, Motan, with his eyes crinkled, greeted the tall-eared one whose face was completely wrapped in leather armor: "Do you need something?"

The elf called Muse scoffed, "Tan Mo, you're really hard to find..."

Motan shrugged, "You know Exotic People like us often disappear into thin air for a while. It's quite normal that you can't find us, isn't it?"

Muse drew the twin blades strapped onto her waist in response, her body slightly coiled up, "Anyway, you've got a minute to prepare your last words."