A brand-new day, brand-new farming opportunities.
Well, not brand-new. I was going to continue farming Mirdabons until I drove them to extinction, or their drop rate became abysmal, whichever came first—probably the latter. After finding out about this lucrative business opportunity, I spent the rest of my gaming time yesterday and this morning leading battalions of Mirdabons to their doom.
Several hours yielded me nearly eight hundred pieces of [Patches of Fur]. I also had several hundred pieces of [Small Fang] and [Black Spike]. I estimated I was already an Artas millionaire when I liquidated all of them. Unfortunately, the fun was about to get less fun. I had turned level eleven.
While the Mirdabons barely gave any Essence and next to no Gli, I probably killed a couple thousand of them at this point. The loot was noticeably reduced.
Nonetheless, I was going to milk this as...I don't know enough about milking cows to make an awesome metaphor. I should ask Sawyer about it. My point was there was still money to be made—a lot of it.
However, the money-making machine was going to pause for a few hours to give way to a lunch meeting appointment with Mr. Armand for the MotherCon coming in a few weeks. Before I played Mother Core Online, I looked forward to business opportunities advertising our new food products at MotherCon. Now, I wanted to attend it because I loved the game; I wanted to see the happenings and people at a gaming convention. I hadn't been to any before.
"A two-hour meeting, maybe three hours tops," I said as I stared at the auction house board. That'd be just in time when the auction period for the materials I put up yesterday would expire. Have a nice lunch and return to thousands of Artas; that's life.
My seventy-six pieces of [Patch of Fur] on the board had reached the price of seven hundred fifty Artas each, way higher than the price on the listed requests I had seen yesterday. It was tempting to accept the listed requests, but that was box-like thinking for quick money. Instead, I put my items up for auction to gauge the upper limits of what the wealthy veteran Mardukryons were willing to pay for a newbie to farm materials they needed. This price might still rise when I return later.
Funnily enough, I might be more excited looking at my items in MCO increase in price rather than checking my investments in the stock market. The latter wasn't moving much these days, but the observation amused me. I did promise myself to play MCO as free-to-play. I supposed that was the reason every money-making opportunity became more impactful.
I appreciated the system of MCO, where loot from low-level areas was still relevant further into the game. It was a subtle way of giving new players a leg up and a money sink for the rich high-level players.
"Now, to check how much richer I have become," I said as I spawned in front of the Chief's Lodge.
After my lunch meeting, I told Jimmy to drive me straight back to my apartment. The traffic was pretty heavy, so our travel took a good while.
I was already considering bringing along the AU-VR Helm next time. Playing MCO in the car? That might be too unbecoming, wouldn't it? I had an image to project to my employees.
I all but galloped to the auction house. The board outside no longer displayed my items—it was time to claim them.
"Here are the records of your sale," said a Mardukryon NPC sitting behind the table with stacks of parchments on both sides. "Kindly review them before claiming your earnings."
The interior of the auction house was a small circular space with several counters attended by Mardukryons. Inside were three players whom I hadn't met before. They were engaged in a heated negotiation and didn't notice me.
When I sat in front of an NPC, I noticed that all the other noises became muffled, and my surroundings turned hazy. It was as if I was wrapped in a bubble, isolated from the 'outside world'.
I surmised that each Mardukryon NPC generated a separate instance for each player. Otherwise, there'd be a long line for transactions, and only a limited number of players could participate in each auction. There must be many other players here, and I just couldn’t see them.
"A thousand Artas each?" I exclaimed, all my four eyes widening upon seeing the final price for a [Patch of Fur]. "Isn't that too much?"
And it wasn't only for the [Patch of Fur]. The [Small Fang] and the [Black Spike] also had the same winning bid. This could be a rich player in a rush to buy them. The prices for [Crab Leg] and [Clump of Chitin]—I had put up a hundred pieces each—didn't reach that high, nor were they round numbers. Apparently, this mysterious buyer wasn’t interested in Hermit Crabore materials.
"This...Chimichangaroo, " I read the name of the winning bidder for the Mirdabon materials. This was the first time I had heard of him. I couldn't criticize his business decision because time was money, and those with money could buy time—this was also applicable in the real world.
"Here are your earnings," the Mardukryon NPC said, knocking me out of my musings. "We have already deducted our five percent merchant fees from it."
[ Received: 278,825 Artas ]
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” I celebrated, pumping my fists in the air.
It was more than enough Artas to buy the Ocadule Shard for [Enraging Call]. But it was too early for it. I was going to spend the foreseeable future grinding low-level mobs and building my bank, so I didn't need a taunt skill just yet.
Along with this unexpected windfall came an increased sense of caution.
I should be more mindful of my purchases. I did make a speech yesterday in front of Gadwall high schoolers about people winning the lottery wasting their prize money. My situation could also be considered winning the lottery, albeit on a much smaller scale. It was pathetic if I'd ignore my own advice.
"Can I check the buyer requests here?" I asked the NPC. A screen popped up in front of my face. I set the list to display buyers of Mirdabon loots.
Expectedly, the offered prices increased due to the winning auction bid—people were willing to shell out more after knowing that others did too. The highest price for all three Mirdabon drops was a thousand per piece, all posted by Chimichangaroo.
I accepted the orders but supplied only two hundred pieces per item. It was only the first day. Other buyers who hadn't logged in or checked the auction listings yet might be willing to bid higher. And so, I put a hundred of each item on the auction to see if I could get a better price for them the following day.
Step one of 'Operation Mirdabon Farming': gallop full speed from Kurghal Village to the Golden Forest.
Step two: once inside the forest, aggro as many Mirdabon packs as possible while traversing it to the other side.
Step three: exit the forest and lead the Mirdabons off the cliffs.
Step four: After the Mirdabons have all died, kill yourself—that sounds morbid.
Rinse and repeat.
After my...I didn't know how many times I had gone through the golden forest today...I spotted something different. A massive mound of white moved. For a second, I had a mini-heart attack thinking it was Buvalu.
A [Lvl 12 (Elite) Mirdabon] turned to face me.
Although I had killed plenty of Mirdabons, it was such a small dent to their overall population in the entire forest that I didn't expect their elite variant to appear. But I must've passed some killing threshold to summon this asshole here. Yes, I’m annoyed it showed up.
Indeed, fighting it was an exciting challenge. It probably had good item drops. But it was also plenty of Essences to push my experience bar up, which was the last thing I wanted right now.
Uncharacteristic of its kind, the Elite Mirdabon had chubby arms growing out from the middle of its body. When it saw me, its fur bristled, a wave of red coating it. Its tiny mouth suddenly widened, almost splitting its circular body in half, displaying rows upon rows of sharp teeth similar to a shark. Scythe-like claws sprouted from the ends of its arms.
"Dammit! I don't want to face you!" I veered hard left to avoid it, diving through a tight gap between two trees. There were multiple thuds as a dozen or so Mirdabons chasing me slammed against the trunks.
Then there was the sound of trees crashing, followed by a reverberating roar.
I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw the Elite Mirdabon, which was now level sixteen, rip apart the trees as it bounced through the forest. Normal Mirdabons picked themselves up from the wreckage. Unfortunately for them, the elite one grabbed a couple and tossed them into its gaping maw.
"What the...?" I whispered.
I had heard of Buvalu cannibalizing other Mirdabons from Sharulrath, but I assumed that was merely dialogue for lore purposes. This was the first time I had seen a monster eat another in this game, and it was frightening.
And the Elite Mirdabon grew larger after eating its normal siblings! That must be its gimmick because it was alone. It had a forest full of food to make it stronger.
The ground rumbled beneath my hooves. More trees were falling.
I had no idea what the hell was happening behind me, but it sounded as if the forest was getting leveled. Tiny squeaks turned into growls as I unintentionally stepped on innocent Mirdabons sleeping in the snow. But their angry protests were swallowed by noises of destruction.
A hundred percent, I'd get flattened if I tried to facetank the Elite Mirdabon.
Should I lead this guy to the cliffs? Could it die that way? It might be able to hold on to the rocks with its hands. And I honestly, with every drop of my blood, didn't want its Essence if it died.
There was one last option—logging out.
"Duck! You there! Duck!" Far up ahead, barely noticeable through the gaps in the trees, was a player. I only noticed him because of the flames swirling around him.
I followed his instructions and dropped down. My momentum carried me forward, and I stumbled over roots, rocks, and golden crystals. Streaks of blinding light flew above me, heading for the Elite Mirdabon.
KABOOM! BO-BOOM!
Explosions rocked the forest. I cast [Greater Pyro Shell] and kept my whole body close to the floor. When everything calmed down, I turned to the Mardukryon player approaching me.
"You okay there, partner?" He lowered his staff, extinguishing its flame, and gave me a friendly salute. "It looked like you needed help." Above his head was the name 'Chimichangaroo'.
A brand-new day, brand-new farming opportunities.
Well, not brand-new. I was going to continue farming Mirdabons until I drove them to extinction, or their drop rate became abysmal, whichever came first—probably the latter. After finding out about this lucrative business opportunity, I spent the rest of my gaming time yesterday and this morning leading battalions of Mirdabons to their doom.
Several hours yielded me nearly eight hundred pieces of [Patches of Fur]. I also had several hundred pieces of [Small Fang] and [Black Spike]. I estimated I was already an Artas millionaire when I liquidated all of them. Unfortunately, the fun was about to get less fun. I had turned level eleven.
While the Mirdabons barely gave any Essence and next to no Gli, I probably killed a couple thousand of them at this point. The loot was noticeably reduced.
Nonetheless, I was going to milk this as...I don't know enough about milking cows to make an awesome metaphor. I should ask Sawyer about it. My point was there was still money to be made—a lot of it.
However, the money-making machine was going to pause for a few hours to give way to a lunch meeting appointment with Mr. Armand for the MotherCon coming in a few weeks. Before I played Mother Core Online, I looked forward to business opportunities advertising our new food products at MotherCon. Now, I wanted to attend it because I loved the game; I wanted to see the happenings and people at a gaming convention. I hadn't been to any before.
"A two-hour meeting, maybe three hours tops," I said as I stared at the auction house board. That'd be just in time when the auction period for the materials I put up yesterday would expire. Have a nice lunch and return to thousands of Artas; that's life.
My seventy-six pieces of [Patch of Fur] on the board had reached the price of seven hundred fifty Artas each, way higher than the price on the listed requests I had seen yesterday. It was tempting to accept the listed requests, but that was box-like thinking for quick money. Instead, I put my items up for auction to gauge the upper limits of what the wealthy veteran Mardukryons were willing to pay for a newbie to farm materials they needed. This price might still rise when I return later.
Funnily enough, I might be more excited looking at my items in MCO increase in price rather than checking my investments in the stock market. The latter wasn't moving much these days, but the observation amused me. I did promise myself to play MCO as free-to-play. I supposed that was the reason every money-making opportunity became more impactful.
I appreciated the system of MCO, where loot from low-level areas was still relevant further into the game. It was a subtle way of giving new players a leg up and a money sink for the rich high-level players.
"Now, to check how much richer I have become," I said as I spawned in front of the Chief's Lodge.
After my lunch meeting, I told Jimmy to drive me straight back to my apartment. The traffic was pretty heavy, so our travel took a good while.
I was already considering bringing along the AU-VR Helm next time. Playing MCO in the car? That might be too unbecoming, wouldn't it? I had an image to project to my employees.
I all but galloped to the auction house. The board outside no longer displayed my items—it was time to claim them.
"Here are the records of your sale," said a Mardukryon NPC sitting behind the table with stacks of parchments on both sides. "Kindly review them before claiming your earnings."
The interior of the auction house was a small circular space with several counters attended by Mardukryons. Inside were three players whom I hadn't met before. They were engaged in a heated negotiation and didn't notice me.
When I sat in front of an NPC, I noticed that all the other noises became muffled, and my surroundings turned hazy. It was as if I was wrapped in a bubble, isolated from the 'outside world'.
I surmised that each Mardukryon NPC generated a separate instance for each player. Otherwise, there'd be a long line for transactions, and only a limited number of players could participate in each auction. There must be many other players here, and I just couldn’t see them.
"A thousand Artas each?" I exclaimed, all my four eyes widening upon seeing the final price for a [Patch of Fur]. "Isn't that too much?"
And it wasn't only for the [Patch of Fur]. The [Small Fang] and the [Black Spike] also had the same winning bid. This could be a rich player in a rush to buy them. The prices for [Crab Leg] and [Clump of Chitin]—I had put up a hundred pieces each—didn't reach that high, nor were they round numbers. Apparently, this mysterious buyer wasn’t interested in Hermit Crabore materials.
"This...Chimichangaroo, " I read the name of the winning bidder for the Mirdabon materials. This was the first time I had heard of him. I couldn't criticize his business decision because time was money, and those with money could buy time—this was also applicable in the real world.
"Here are your earnings," the Mardukryon NPC said, knocking me out of my musings. "We have already deducted our five percent merchant fees from it."
[ Received: 278,825 Artas ]
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” I celebrated, pumping my fists in the air.
It was more than enough Artas to buy the Ocadule Shard for [Enraging Call]. But it was too early for it. I was going to spend the foreseeable future grinding low-level mobs and building my bank, so I didn't need a taunt skill just yet.
Along with this unexpected windfall came an increased sense of caution.
I should be more mindful of my purchases. I did make a speech yesterday in front of Gadwall high schoolers about people winning the lottery wasting their prize money. My situation could also be considered winning the lottery, albeit on a much smaller scale. It was pathetic if I'd ignore my own advice.
"Can I check the buyer requests here?" I asked the NPC. A screen popped up in front of my face. I set the list to display buyers of Mirdabon loots.
Expectedly, the offered prices increased due to the winning auction bid—people were willing to shell out more after knowing that others did too. The highest price for all three Mirdabon drops was a thousand per piece, all posted by Chimichangaroo.
I accepted the orders but supplied only two hundred pieces per item. It was only the first day. Other buyers who hadn't logged in or checked the auction listings yet might be willing to bid higher. And so, I put a hundred of each item on the auction to see if I could get a better price for them the following day.
Step one of 'Operation Mirdabon Farming': gallop full speed from Kurghal Village to the Golden Forest.
Step two: once inside the forest, aggro as many Mirdabon packs as possible while traversing it to the other side.
Step three: exit the forest and lead the Mirdabons off the cliffs.
Step four: After the Mirdabons have all died, kill yourself—that sounds morbid.
Rinse and repeat.
After my...I didn't know how many times I had gone through the golden forest today...I spotted something different. A massive mound of white moved. For a second, I had a mini-heart attack thinking it was Buvalu.
A [Lvl 12 (Elite) Mirdabon] turned to face me.
Although I had killed plenty of Mirdabons, it was such a small dent to their overall population in the entire forest that I didn't expect their elite variant to appear. But I must've passed some killing threshold to summon this asshole here. Yes, I’m annoyed it showed up.
Indeed, fighting it was an exciting challenge. It probably had good item drops. But it was also plenty of Essences to push my experience bar up, which was the last thing I wanted right now.
Uncharacteristic of its kind, the Elite Mirdabon had chubby arms growing out from the middle of its body. When it saw me, its fur bristled, a wave of red coating it. Its tiny mouth suddenly widened, almost splitting its circular body in half, displaying rows upon rows of sharp teeth similar to a shark. Scythe-like claws sprouted from the ends of its arms.
"Dammit! I don't want to face you!" I veered hard left to avoid it, diving through a tight gap between two trees. There were multiple thuds as a dozen or so Mirdabons chasing me slammed against the trunks.
Then there was the sound of trees crashing, followed by a reverberating roar.
I quickly glanced over my shoulder and saw the Elite Mirdabon, which was now level sixteen, rip apart the trees as it bounced through the forest. Normal Mirdabons picked themselves up from the wreckage. Unfortunately for them, the elite one grabbed a couple and tossed them into its gaping maw.
"What the...?" I whispered.
I had heard of Buvalu cannibalizing other Mirdabons from Sharulrath, but I assumed that was merely dialogue for lore purposes. This was the first time I had seen a monster eat another in this game, and it was frightening.
And the Elite Mirdabon grew larger after eating its normal siblings! That must be its gimmick because it was alone. It had a forest full of food to make it stronger.
The ground rumbled beneath my hooves. More trees were falling.
I had no idea what the hell was happening behind me, but it sounded as if the forest was getting leveled. Tiny squeaks turned into growls as I unintentionally stepped on innocent Mirdabons sleeping in the snow. But their angry protests were swallowed by noises of destruction.
A hundred percent, I'd get flattened if I tried to facetank the Elite Mirdabon.
Should I lead this guy to the cliffs? Could it die that way? It might be able to hold on to the rocks with its hands. And I honestly, with every drop of my blood, didn't want its Essence if it died.
There was one last option—logging out.
"Duck! You there! Duck!" Far up ahead, barely noticeable through the gaps in the trees, was a player. I only noticed him because of the flames swirling around him.
I followed his instructions and dropped down. My momentum carried me forward, and I stumbled over roots, rocks, and golden crystals. Streaks of blinding light flew above me, heading for the Elite Mirdabon.
KABOOM! BO-BOOM!
Explosions rocked the forest. I cast [Greater Pyro Shell] and kept my whole body close to the floor. When everything calmed down, I turned to the Mardukryon player approaching me.
"You okay there, partner?" He lowered his staff, extinguishing its flame, and gave me a friendly salute. "It looked like you needed help." Above his head was the name 'Chimichangaroo'.
