B8017913 had already guessed Rita was after the Dull Game, but it still didn't know where she was headed.
"Where are you going?"
Rita gave the mismatched-colored, incomplete revolver in her hand a little spin and sighed.
"10th Month Theme Park."
She was going to scout things out. If she could recover the three missing Dull Game fragments from TingoAutumn Deer, she'd willingly empty her entire wallet to buy the last one.
But if she couldn't—then she'd change course, and sell the five fragments she already owned as a bundle. That way, even if the buyer found out later that Universal Fragments couldn't complete it, it would be too late.
She'd already come up with the perfect sales pitch:
"A divine relic lost by the god Dull, preserved in Divine Game. One of a kind. Possibly allows communication with Dull."
As for whether such a claim might anger the god himself?
There weren't many beings capable of interfering with her attempt to collect the Dull Game, and the one most likely to do so was, naturally, the one most connected to it—Dull.
With all she now understood about gods and demons, she couldn't think of another explanation.
Since the other party already disliked her, she had no reason to care about his preferences either.
Thinking of that outrageous price tag on the fragment, not only did she not care—she wanted to send Dull a cease-and-desist.
Through the indignant shouting of a gingerbread-shaped ticket agent, Rita successfully refunded her admission and stood at the gates of the 10th Month Theme Park.
She never thought she'd return here of her own volition.
First, she took out a few regular attribute Blocks and stuck them to herself—pre-paying her park fee just in case. She'd already paid to enter via 1st March Theme Park, but she had no idea how long she'd be here. Best to prep for any automatic tolls inside that might kick her out if left unpaid.
She pulled Nivalis's capsule machine around to her front.
It was light—far too light. Not even half full.
Rita opened her own capsule machine, removed a tray of Blocks, cracked them apart one by one, and started feeding them into the second machine.
She didn't stop until she'd tossed in 200 Blocks.
Then came a couple dozen event gift packs, some game rewards she didn't need, and a few dozen duck feathers for flair.
By the time she was done, the machine held 978 capsules, jam-packed so tightly that they barely moved when she shook it.
Satisfied, Rita shrank her primary capsule machine—filled with two Divine Relics and a pile of elite gear—to its smallest size.
Then she popped open her head—crafted from small Blocks—and carefully embedded the tiny machine inside her brain cavity.
Wearing the second machine on her back, Rita piloted her spaceship into the 10th Month Theme Park.
Snow swirled through the air the moment she entered, and she shivered in the cold.
The spaceship's movement kicked up enough wind to scatter the snowfall, the flakes vanishing the moment they touched the Block-paved roads.
Rita's right hand spun the ship's wheel while her left held the Dull Game—still glowing with the Blocks Tracker indicator—guiding her toward her target: TingoAutumn Deer.
At under 30 centimeters tall, and made entirely of tiny, pitiful Blocks, Rita's arrival in the 10th Month Theme Park turned heads.
High-tier players—18th and 19th stage—pets, casuals, even event packs glanced curiously in her direction.
The capsule machine and fire-feathered wings gave her away instantly.
Those who paid attention knew who she was right away.
But Rita didn't stop. In under five minutes, her ship had docked outside a game attraction.
The arrow on her Dull Game stopped blinking and pointed directly at the entrance.
Rita peered inside and easily spotted her mark—a small, deer-shaped player.
The game admitted players in batches. Whatever the rules were, Rita didn't care—she had no intention of getting the Dull Game through gameplay. She wasn't that reckless.
She also wasn't going to wait for TingoAutumn Deer to come out—that would draw too much suspicion.
Standing atop her spaceship, Rita took a deep breath and started shouting like a street vendor:
"Divine Relics, limited-time event!"
"Capsules! Come try your luck at the capsule machine! BS-Rita's exclusive! Divine Relics, god tokens, nine-piece game sets, Universal Fragments, event boxes—you name it!"
"A capsule machine where you can pull a Divine Relic! That's right! A full Divine Relic—not just fragments!"
"Are you the fated one? Yes! Don't doubt it—it's you!"
She didn't need to prove any of it was true.
All games in Divine Game followed rules, and the capsule machine was no exception.
She'd tested it back with Nivalis—when inviting others to play the capsule game, you physically couldn't lie.
Rita was counting on that. The top-tier players here, if they'd ever played capsule games through event packs or gathered info on them, would know the rule.
And even if they didn't? It'd only take a little word-of-mouth among players to clue everyone in.
This whole scheme—scamming Blocks through the shady second capsule machine—wasn't airtight. The biggest vulnerability?
If someone went to buy a capsule machine from an event pack and noticed the "Do not sell to BS-Rita or her pets" clause.
Any sharp-minded player could deduce from that restriction that she'd somehow acquired a second machine through less-than-legal means.
Even if they figured it out, most players wouldn't care enough to blow the whistle.
Especially since it had been quite a while since she'd stirred chaos in the July Theme Park with her original capsule schemes.
The top dogs and overlords might not care what low-tier players did—but they absolutely paid attention to what happened at the 17th stage. Especially if it involved high-level capsule tokens.
And that meant they'd probably already asked around about machine pricing.
But the new "Do not sell" rule in Nivalis's machine? That had only been patched in a few hours ago.
Which meant there was still a timing gap.
In short, the plan wasn't perfect. But as long as TingoAutumn Deer hadn't caught wind of the update, Rita had a 90%+ chance of pulling this off.
If she could, she'd love to use duck feathers to disguise herself as an event pack—but public zones banned skill use. Roaming the game zone dressed like that was suicide. One unlucky pull and a pissed-off player could smash her to bits.
So she let that idea go—for now.