章節 37: If You’re Not Biological, Who Is?
Rita didn't mind the perfectionism brought by the **God of the Culinary Arts** gift. It required her to cook meticulously to maximize its benefits. She didn't rush things anymore, though. Ever since the first beta test, she had been in a state of constant anxiety, unable to relax for even a moment, always feeling as if a predator was chasing her. Now, with the biggest threat in hand, she could slow down—at least enough to make sure she got six hours of sleep every day!
As she lay in bed, her mist diffuser gently sprayed **Advanced Reveal Potion** into the air. She checked her current stats:
- **Strength**: 8+2
- **Constitution**: 11+2
- **Intelligence**: 14+1
- **Agility**: 21
For someone healthy and with a habit of exercising, a starting value of 7 was typical. Of course, intelligence was influenced by IQ, and men with strong physical training often started with higher strength and constitution, sometimes even reaching 10. Runners or parkour enthusiasts had agility far above 7. But even by those highest standards, Rita's current stats were equivalent to those of a level 6 player. And yet, she was still at level 0, with just a handful of experience points from the few small tasks she'd done during the first beta test, plus the quest from Apache.
The game was set to fully integrate with reality by February next year. Rita wasn't planning to tip off the authorities. Her plan was already completed, and whether she acted good or bad wouldn't make much of a difference. The truth was, after the third beta test, many of the players would be itching to show off. Some people just couldn't help but flaunt their newfound powers, while others sought to settle old scores.
There was no way to keep such things under wraps.
In her previous life, by the end of 2078, strange news stories were already popping up, and rumors about the game spread even a month or two before the full invasion began. Rita figured the authorities had likely already received intel. Out of the millions of people involved, some were bound to be government agents, which would explain why they had reacted so quickly last time.
Having prepared for everything—hoarding supplies, securing resources, spending where needed—Rita decided to devote her time to learning martial arts and marksmanship. She was no stranger to close combat or ranged attacks; in her last year on the run, her hand-to-hand combat skills had been honed in countless life-or-death battles.
Her fighting style was purely lethal—no fancy moves, just brutal efficiency aimed at weak points. Elbows to the throat, eye-gouging, kidney punches, stabs to the heart. It wasn't that she disdained formal techniques, she simply wanted to expand her repertoire. Even with high stats, if she couldn't effectively use her power, it wouldn't matter.
There was a reason formal martial arts systems were so highly regarded—each had its advantages, and Rita wanted to study them.
As for ranged attacks, her skills in her previous life had relied entirely on magic—arcane missiles, ice balls, fireballs, all launched on instinct. She might have had some innate talent, but it was the **Impersonation** gift, which allowed her to store and use others' abilities, that had helped her survive for a whole year.
Now, with the **Master Archer** gift in hand, she was determined to master marksmanship. Anything less would be unworthy of the gift, not to mention her high agility stat of 21.
She had plenty of money saved for training. Her days were structured: mornings spent learning martial arts—how to strike effectively, which body parts could be used as weapons, how to escape when restrained; afternoons were for marksmanship, where she studied controlling distance and calculating wind speed.
Unlike her wild, self-taught skills from the past, Rita now saw daily improvements. Her stats were no longer just numbers; she was more agile, more responsive, and capable of exerting greater strength.
Her shooting coach was astonished by her talent. When she first started, her form was all wrong—something she must've picked up from watching online tutorials. But in less than a week, she was hitting her target every time within 30 meters. Had she been younger, the coach would have recommended her for the national team. There was just one odd thing—every seventh arrow she shot seemed to miss. The coach suspected she was struggling with stamina, but it was baffling.
In truth, Rita wasn't lacking in strength. She was deliberately holding back her seventh shot to avoid revealing her **Seventh Shot Critical** effect. So, on her seventh shot, she would only draw the bow a little, sending the arrow limply forward.
Rita knew her own limitations. When given time to aim, she was fine. But in rapid-fire situations, her accuracy dropped to 60%. Her accuracy with moving targets was even lower, and hitting a target while on the move herself was a disaster.
But she wasn't discouraged—everything was just getting started.
---
While Rita was immersed in her intense training schedule, Samuel finally recovered from his shock. He carefully sealed up the shattered pieces of his treasures, optimistic that if his son could live with half a manhood, there might be a skill or item out there that could restore these valuable items. After all, his daughter was still helping him search for a cure. Why not believe in miracles?
So, Samuel started actively gathering information about players, hoping to find someone with a skill that could restore damaged objects.
Meanwhile, Scarlett was the happiest member of the family, aside from Rita. Her son had married into wealth, and her entire family had been blessed with these strange occurrences. She couldn't think of a reason not to be happy. As for the surname of future grandchildren, she couldn't care less. "It's not like they'll have my maiden name, so what's the difference?" She considered herself quite pragmatic.
She was the kind of woman who saw herself as the enlightened type, living an effortlessly clear-minded life. Her only complaint? Her daughter no longer gave her pocket money.
Rita couldn't help but roll her eyes when her mother texted her:
**"@Rita, Sweetheart, Mom's got her eye on this new purse [blushing emoji]."**
Rita immediately held down the message, selected **Reply**, and tagged Rick:
**"@Rick, Brother, I've got my eye on a new gun [blushing emoji]."**
She knew Rick had the money.
Rick sighed deeply. Ever since marrying into the Lopez family, he had been receiving 5 million as a monthly allowance. All his living expenses were covered by the Lopez family—clothes were bought or custom-made for him. That 5 million was pure pocket money. Eating soft rice really was a sweet deal!
And his wedding night had gone smoothly, thanks to the bed Rita had gifted. After a night of intense passion, Rick had almost forgotten about his "little problem." Even Zoey seemed pleased, though she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something wasn't quite the same length as before. Still, satisfaction outweighed suspicion.
Feeling generous, Rick transferred 500,000 to both Rita and Scarlett.
He then asked them to help gather information about **Divine Gifts**, especially whether anyone had discovered a **Divine Gift** that had stopped working.
The women immediately promised to do their best, flooding the group chat with enthusiastic messages:
**"Got it! Don't worry, boss!"**
**"Leave it to us!"**
Their service was so good it rivaled certain well-known hotpot chains.
Samuel jumped in too, transferring money to the women and asking them to keep an eye out for any skills or items that could repair broken objects.
The two women responded with another round of **"Got it, boss!"**
And then promptly forgot all about it.
A week later, when Rick and Samuel asked if they'd found anything, they were met with radio silence. Rita looked at the group chat and started laughing at herself:
**"Rita, if you're not the biological child, then who is?!"**
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