The fourth level of the Maze, outside Mist Town, deep within the Mist Forest.

[Earth-eating Rich Man] kicked away the carcass of a Magic Wolf blocking the path, the Enchanted Armor glinting with a cold metallic sheen under the bluish illumination of the fungal growths.

He glanced back at the dense crowd behind him—fifty "adventurers" wielding pitchforks and hoes, squatting on the mushroom mats gnawing on roasted sweet potatoes, resembling a flock of crows pecking at carrion.

"I say, folks," he lifted his faceguard to wipe his sweat, "we're all Black Iron now, yet here we are with these rookies—it's like a high-level veteran returning to a newbie village to blast fish."

[Iron-blooded Fatty], poking at a luminescent blob on the ground with his sword sheath, lifted his head with a wry smile upon hearing the remark, "The thing is, at least blasting fish produces a sound, but this group can't even outrun a Slime as bait."

As if to prove his point, a scream rang out from not far away. Three farmers were arguing endlessly around the steaming corpse of a Demon, an iron shovel with a notch stuck in the gelatinous remnants. Instead of debating combat tactics, their main point of contention was whether they could take this goo back as fertilizer.

"Step aside!" [Jade-faced Hand Tired King] briskly approached, thrusting a torch into the slime. Accompanied by a pungent green smoke, the Demon's remains instantly shriveled into a charred, hard lump.

The onlookers immediately gasped in admiration, not realizing they'd just circumvented a close brush with death.

"As expected of the Mage!"

"That's Alchemy! I've seen it at the market!"

"Clearly a blessing from the Flame King..."

Listening to the increasingly exaggerated discussions, [Earth-eating Rich Man] was filled with black lines, while [Jade-faced Hand Tired King] leaned towards his ear: "I've figured it out, bringing them along in dungeons is like running a nursery."

"Isn't it more like a retirement home?" [Iron-blooded Fatty] quipped.

"No difference, just a bunch of noobs." [Wolf Limp] smirked.

This was the truth.

And the shared sentiment among the other players.

These adventurers they recruited haphazardly had no issues with their compensation, yet they were equally useless, incapable of doing anything right.

But you couldn't blame them entirely, as they weren't professional soldiers, merely farmers who had undergone basic training.

And such so-called training didn't include the brutalities of the battlefield—just marching formations, loading firearms under command, blending into a crowd to fire a shot. It was hardly about honing their combat prowess or killing techniques; rather, it was more about training their obedience, raising morale slightly on the battlefield so they could hold the line, buying time for the main force and not crumbling like cannon fodder in Hell.

Harboring the attitude of making do with what they had and believing the more, the merrier, the members of the Invincible Supreme Adventure Group ventured into the Maze with these burdensome companions for several days despite feeling disheartened.

Through their own efforts and battles, they finally broke through the common bottleneck and achieved Black Iron Level.

However, when they looked back at the adventurers they originally recruited, they were still ordinary people with no combat capability, having made no progress... Anyone would feel demoralized.

After a fierce battle, the four players standing on the Demon Beast's corpse exchanged glances, witnessing the despair in each other's eyes.

Just days ago, they were still engrossed in the excitement of preparing for the "Magic Plant Frenzy" event, but now they faced a harsh reality—

Fifty mouths that needed two carts of sweet potatoes every day.

And it was painfully clear that these NPCs were delivering nothing but negative returns.

"MMP, here we are at Black Iron Level, yet we're saddled with a bunch who can't even handle a monster," [Iron-blooded Fatty] wiped his weapon, unable to resist venting, "by the time they're any use, we'll probably not even have soup left to sip!"

He used to be skeptical.

Now he knew for certain—this game was designed this way; some were born NPCs, like unsculptable lumps of clay.

Of course, it wasn't their fault; perhaps soul level and other factors played a part. Moreover, they themselves were not adventurers, merely forced into a different life they never intended to lead.

[Wolf Limp] also sighed, "Yeah, with them around, we've been treading carefully during level-ups in the Maze, afraid something might happen to them."

[Jade-faced Hand Tired King] frowned in thought for a moment, then said, "The key is, we can't just leave them here, heartlessly abandoning them. After all, they came with us."

[Earth-eating Rich Man] crossed his arms, pacing back and forth with a worried expression.

"But constantly supporting them isn't sustainable; we still need to participate in the Magic Plant Frenzy event, and we can't keep being bogged down by them."

He calculated a sum in his mind.

At this rate, not to mention recouping the early investments, he'd probably need to buy some Joss Paper on the forum to 'feed' these 'digital pets' soon.

Hearing their leaders' complaints, the rookies looked at each other in dismay, feeling a pang of guilt, so much so that even the roasted sweet potatoes in their hands lost their taste.

They weren't lazy gluttons; in fact, they were quite diligent, feeling uneasy if idle for a moment. Hence, during missions with their leaders, they constantly sought to do something, inadvertently causing quite a few mishaps... Just like earlier, they had no idea some Demon Beasts had the Explosive Corpse effect after death.

As everyone was fretting, an adventurer named Tom approached, cautiously speaking to the leaders.

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