Can't Let It Win, Not Again

Next day, a group of foreign magicians arrived in the Grey World.

Old magician Harley had been to the Grey World many times before. This unique steam-powered country covered more than half the planet, and it was divided into several massive city clusters. The Morning Wind Metropolis was the largest of them all.

Although magic was scant in this world, it had an abundance of fascinating mechanical inventions, like typewriters, which were perfect for non-magic users.

Old Magician Harley had a particular fondness for the mechanical typewriters produced in this world. In fact, his room was filled with over a dozen different models, displayed like collectibles.

To Harley, the rhythmic clacking of the keys was music to his ears. The hot steam, the massive metal gears, and the ever-burning boilers all represented a different kind of power—one that magic didn't possess, but this other civilization did.

There was a time when worlds were isolated from one another. But after the gods arrived, everything changed. Harley was deeply grateful for their presence.

Despite being a Grand Magician of the Falling Star world, Harley now had a mechanical dream of his own—to pilot a giant robot.

The servants of the Steel Church have some that were entirely made of steel and machinery. These Iron Puppets were similar to magical golems, possessing basic cognition and serving as the workforce. While magical golems were sculpted from clay and sustained by magic, Iron Puppets drew their life force from clockwork or boilers.

Harley had always dreamt of driving a giant robot like that. Unfortunately, those machines were typically reserved for large-scale projects. To acquire one required not just immense wealth but also a mountain of paperwork.

You'd need documents like a Large Machinery Driver's License, Mechanical Operations Permit, First-Class Machinery Operator's Certificate, Quality Report, Health Certificate, Road Traffic Safety Commitment, and Boiler Operations Certificate. You will also have to pay large machinery taxes, register with the Steel Church, and routinely replace the boilers, maintain the clockwork, and lubricate the parts.

Not only was it complicated, but it was also time-consuming—and the maintenance fees were downright brutal.

In short, piloting a giant robot wasn't something one could do on a whim.

Trailing behind Old MagiciaHarley were a group of young students, who were visiting the Gray World for the first time. Ever since stepping out of the world portal, they had been excitedly chattering non-stop. Every steam-powered building and device they saw drew different degrees of awe and curiosity.

And that curiosity soon transformed into a powerful urge to buy things.

"Hey, boss, can you cut me a deal on one of those steam backpacks?" One of the students stopped in front of a shop, drawn in by the strange steam-powered backpacks on display. These odd devices, crafted by the Steel Church, came in various models to suit different tasks.

There were backpacks for flying, digging, mowing, and even diving. Some required matching tools or uniforms to function properly. For Wizards, magic could accomplish all these tasks more quickly and easily, but that didn't stop the students from being intrigued by the mechanical devices. After several rounds of haggling, every student had a new steam backpack in hand.

Old Magician Harley watched as his students spent their money on all sorts of mechanical gadgets but he didn't stop them. This was, after all, a crucial part of their societal training.

Understanding the social environment, local customs, social structure, and the people's needs, as well as political and religious issues—experiencing all of this firsthand was far more meaningful than hearing someone else talk about it.

Only after gathering this knowledge could they craft a promotional campaign that fit the world's unique circumstances, aligning with the client's demands.

At the same time, this was also a significant opportunity to promote their academy, potentially attracting new students from across different worlds.

As Harley and his students continued walking, they noticed a crowd gathering near a tavern.

"Is that Maya's Tavern? What kind of game is she hosting this time?"

Harley had visited the Grey World many times and had come to known Miss Maya, a vampiress who, rather than sucking blood, had an unusual fondness for alcohol. Harley was fascinated by her and her peculiar habits.

Maya ran a tavern on the southeast corner of District Six, in the third sector of the Morning Wind Metropolis. The game activities she organized were incredibly popular, and her beer had a unique flavor that attracted a large daily crowd.

But something seemed different today—her sign had changed.

"'Church of Fiction? Wait, when did she start getting into religion?"

Harley's face was full of confusion, but what baffled him even more was the dense crowd outside the tavern. It seemed larger than the one inside. People were gathered around a few strange Steel boxes with screens.

"What are those things?"

"Arcade machines. Do you even know how to play it? Noob..." A passerby casually answered Harley's question before turning his attention back to the player in front of the machine, throwing out critiques as he watched the game.

The player being mocked, soon finished his turn, shaking his head as he stepped away, likely because a group of eager onlookers were waiting for their chance.

"Interesting. Mind if I try?"

Harley asked one of the players about to take a turn. The man frowned, about to refuse, but then Harley pulled out a gold coin.

It wasn't just any gold coin, but one from this world. Harley had amassed quite a fortune during his visits.

The classic response followed—no one says no to money. Harley got his chance to try out the arcade machine, but it didn't take long for him to realize that this game wasn't as simple as it looked.

His first game lasted less than two minutes before the tiny plane he was controlling in the game exploded in a burst of colorful fireworks. The machine rang up with a defeated tune.

Amidst the laughter of the onlookers, Harley started a second game, with his students watching from the sidelines.

Their curiosity for this new and exciting thing had already begun to grow wildly in their hearts.

The second round didn't last much longer, and Harley, without missing a beat, quickly started a third.

Half an hour passed, and by now Harley's eyes were glued to the glowing screen. After yet another Game Over, he was fuming like a bull by now. His hair and beard puffed up as if a gust of wind had blown through, angrily flaring out like the tentacles of an enraged octopus.

He'd played, or say lost, seven or eight rounds already. The constant stream of Game Over on the screen had now condensed into a single word in his mind—Noob.

"Who even let him play? you're really bad at this outsider."

The crowd taunted him, but Harley didn't respond. He started another roundC, and after a moment, something seemed to click in his mind.

Everyone thought he was about to smash the machine with his spiked staff this time, but to their surprise, the transformation Magician instead cast a spell on himself.

"I can't let it win, not again."

And just like that, Old Magician Harley turned into a paper-thin figure and flew straight into the screen.