Chapter 252: Chapter 246 – The Origin of Events
Ji Ma took out her phone, her fingers gliding across the glass screen, sending a message in the witch group of nearly a hundred people: “There’s something, come to the Beautiful Palace within 24 hours.”
In the witch group of fifty-three members, messages immediately popped up one after another.
“Is there something going on, Master?”
“Are we having a big orgy this time?”
“What should we wear?”
“Ugh, can you let me off this time?”
“The more you say that, the more the Master enjoys playing with you.”
“How happy it is to play with the Master, I don’t understand.”
“I declare a wedding theme, I’ll take the lead.”
“Why should it be you?”
The group was in a chaotic uproar, with avatars resembling each member, making it look like a group of beautiful maids squabbling.
The witches were all Ji Ma’s close companions and also her chosen ones, spending most of their time not serving Ji Ma in the palace. Although Ji Ma could theoretically summon them directly, modern communication tools made it more convenient.
Ji Ma was too lazy to read the group chat; her gaze swept below, taking in the sight of the oilseed rape maids, and she recalled a certain witch’s suggestion for a big orgy, butterflies fluttering in her stomach.
Ji Ma licked her lips but was not in a hurry to satisfy her insatiable desires.
She jumped down from the terrace railing and walked back into her spacious bedroom, where her computer was running “Mount & Blade II.” Ji Ma sat down to continue playing, but gradually began to feel bored.
“Too simplistic, too uninteresting.” Ji Ma controlled her character in the game, wielding a crescent blade, slicing a cavalryman in two.
“The primitive action system, the crude strategy, a team’s food supply could feed an entire army for a year, even the doomsday army wouldn’t be so exaggerated.” Ji Ma said as she exited the game.
On her black-themed gaming platform, the playtime displayed: 153 hours. Another polished game honed by a legion of paid testers had bored Ji Ma.
“So boring.”
Ji Ma lazily turned her golden eyes toward the outside.
Go have fun with the maids? Sure, but she was too lazy to get up. Why couldn’t they come over to have fun with her? Oh, she had tried that already and kicked them away, so it was fine.
After thinking for a while, Ji Ma concluded that her happiness came too easily, too frequently.
She needed some pain as a seasoning.
A few options floated in her mind: “showing off wealth,” “going to Zhihu to flaunt her academic credentials,” “finding someone bold enough to insult her and making an example of them,” or continuing to mock that group of peers…
Ji Ma took out her portable “cursed doll,” woven from molecular fibers, more durable, with the name “Fang Shiyun” inscribed on it.
She pressed a few times, feeling a hint of pain from the East. The plain and tedious life gained a touch of sweetness.
But she had eaten too much of that sweetness.
At this moment, a surge of painful energy floated in like a thin mist, merging into Ji Ma’s heart, sweetening it.
She almost forgot about them.
She immediately stood up, excitedly summoned the somersault cloud, sat on it, and quickly soared out of the bedroom, flying out onto the terrace.
At that moment, the time on the bottom right corner of the computer showed 9:01.
Every day at nine o’clock, a stream of painful energy would, without fail, flow into Ji Ma’s heart. Although it was scant, she particularly enjoyed the taste of this painful energy, reveling in the expressions of the victims who were suffering.
The somersault cloud carried Ji Ma over a distance of three kilometers, landing at an office building that sharply contrasted with the overall style of the Beautiful Palace.
Ji Ma strode inside, and the front desk maid immediately notified the project manager.
“Master, you have arrived?”
“Take me for a tour.”
“Okay.”
The project manager forced a smile, revealing eight teeth, but could not soften her serious and stern face. Looking at Ji Ma reminded her of her elementary school homeroom teacher.
Although the office building appeared modern from the outside, its internal structure exuded Ji Ma’s local emperor style.
All the staff’s cubicles were cramped together on one floor. On the third floor above them, there was a grandstand that provided a panoramic view, spacious enough for the people below to see the loungers and beds on the stage.
Ji Ma walked up to the grandstand, gripping the railing with both hands, surveying the scene below.
Down below, the cubicles were crammed like a beehive. In front of their computer screens sat beautiful girls, women, and even young girls. Each one was stunning enough to qualify as a dream lover, and how many men went sleepless at night after seeing them.
They relied solely on their appearance to lead a life without lifting a finger; indeed, many of them had been actresses, models, celebrities, or even Victoria’s Secret angels (the company hadn’t gone bankrupt thanks to Ji Ma’s investment).
Yet before the screens, they were all, without exception, listless, their expressions numbed, staring dazedly at the computer screens, dark bags under their eyes, typing away at the keyboards, engaged in coding work.
Ji Ma took a deep breath and smiled, “I’m so happy.”
The project manager interjected timely, “Master, they have been working 996 for a month.”
The 996 work schedule meant working seven days a week, from 9 AM to 9 PM.
“Not bad,” Ji Ma said. “Release some blue ** water to make them keep working.”
“Yes.”
If they became ugly, they wouldn’t seem so happy.
Ji Ma rested her elbows on the railing, admiring the beauties below being exploited like corporate workers.
Ji Ma now felt nauseated at the sight of code; she hated programming and coding more than anything. Therefore, seeing a group of beautiful women forced to do what she loathed made Ji Ma feel pleased.
Quite a few coding maids had noticed Ji Ma, their eyes shining with admiration or astonishment, raising their hands to greet her, the demon who tormented them.
Ji Ma merely smiled subtly.
A few maids down below smiled brighter, straightening their backs and passionately typing on their keyboards.
Ji Ma turned to the project manager and said, “Tell them I have new demands; there should be some changes.”
“Okay, what do you want to say?”
“The Mount & Blade II mod needs to include a logistics lifeline system to ensure that strongholds have intercepting logistics lifelines, highlighting the importance of castles.”
The project manager quickly noted this down.
“Also, we need to design military rations. Yes, design like this; transporting a large quantity of military rations requires a four-wheeled vehicle, thus slowing down…”
The project manager scribbled it down rapidly.
“…so the military has the option to abandon supplies and launch an attack…”
“…there needs to be options for slaughtering captives, and depending on the type of captives slaughtered, different NPC reactions should be designed…”
“…meanwhile, captives should also have the option to be forced into gladiatorial combat to increase security, of course, this behavior should also interact with the world…”
These requirements were extensive and broad, and the changes to the game were so significant that even the usually stern project manager could not help but say, “Master, should we discuss it more clearly?”
“What I want is results, not to learn how to design a game,” Ji Ma said. “Just make the changes to my satisfaction.”
“Okay.”
“By the way,” Ji Ma said, “the AI should also be capable of using the logistics lifeline during combat and protection.”
“But Master, that’s somewhat difficult; it involves too much and requires a lot of code changes.”
“Then work overtime to change it,” Ji Ma smiled and said. “996 can be 997, right? And make the code concise, with clear and understandable comments.”
The project manager gasped, struggling to say, “Okay.”
“Since that’s good, then you should announce it immediately.”
The project manager forced a苦 smile. “Yes, Master.”
Ji Ma leaned against the railing, listening intently. Ten minutes later, there came a wave of painful hisses and complaints from below.
“Another change in demands?”
“Do we need to live at all?”
“997? I came here to be a maid, why am I coding?”
Ji Ma felt entirely satisfied, nodding her head before leaving contentedly.
