Just before stepping into the oasis town, Rita activated her disguise skill, [Away from Home, Identity is Self-Assigned].

There were already three Mechanoids searching for her in this game, and now Dawn Cicada had joined the hunt. Of course she wasn't about to walk in unprepared.

Golden lightning flickered through her eyes, dyeing her irises in molten gold. Her two companions split off in different directions to act independently. If things got too chaotic, they could retreat to the pet space; if they found a way to help, they would stay outside.

The moment Rita crossed into the oasis town, a prompt rang in her mind.

[Welcome, player. You have entered Free Trade Zone No. 598.]

She froze mid-step before moving again to look for the zone's game stele.

After three consecutive large-scale games, she had almost forgotten that the first Divine Game she ever played followed this exact format.

While she and Dawn Cicada had been facing off outside, the oasis had filled rapidly from all sides. Following the densest crowd, Rita soon spotted the stele near the town's center.

[Game: Gotcha] (Countdown: 03:27)

When the countdown ended, the free trade zone would lock down and convert into a temporary game area.

Game Duration: 10 minutes.

Once the game began, all Mechanoids would temporarily lose their vision and start hunting players within the zone. Any player caught would be forced to accept a Mechanoid's single request; refusal would instantly lower the final grade of their Player Relic by one level.

Players who remained uncaught when the timer expired could choose any single material within the zone, with no quantity limit.

[Special Mechanic: During the game, all players in the area will temporarily lose the ability to fly.]

[Current number of players in this zone: 3952.]

After reading the rules, Rita slipped into the crowd, left through the opposite side of the oasis, and used her disguise skill again to alter her face. She changed into a soft, silent outfit that would make no sound when she moved, then looped halfway around and re-entered the town from another direction.

She headed straight for the market stalls.

If it was called a "free trade zone," that meant materials could be obtained not only through the mini-game but also through purchase.

She passed stall after stall, her gaze sweeping quickly across the displayed goods while voices around her bargained and haggled.

All materials here were priced in mechanical button batteries. To get those, however…

Rita stopped at a special booth. Most stalls in the oasis were simple—white cloth on the ground, a small robot seated behind it waiting for customers. Only this booth stood out: it was housed inside a small metallic hut.

Every ten stalls, there was one of these huts.

On a high stool behind the counter sat a Mechanoid, a sign placed on the table before it. The sign read:

"Players may sell items, curios, skills, or attributes in exchange for mechanical button batteries."

Below that were listed the purchase rates.

For example, one SSS-grade item could only be traded for ten button batteries.

Yet the materials she had just seen all started at three batteries apiece. Even though they were exquisite—many of them rare or unobtainable outside—this still made the pricing outrageous.

More curious was the restriction that only items or curios used within the last two hundred Starsea days could be sold at that fixed rate. Anything unused for longer had to be evaluated by a Mechanoid before it could be recycled.

That clearly targeted long-time players with deep inventories. An item's worth was measured by whether it still held value to its owner.

Overhead, the final ten-second countdown began.

Rita activated [Hide-and-Seek] and climbed to the top of a tall tree. She slipped the [Plush Collar] she had prepared earlier around her wrist, transforming into a small plush doll.

A short distance away, Dawn Cicada stood beneath another tree, her brow faintly furrowed, searching the crowd for something—or someone.

3… 2… 1…

The moment the countdown ended, all the Mechanoids' cube heads clicked and whirred, twisting rapidly. The blue light inside their seams went dark. That must have been what the stele meant by them "losing vision."

The small robots stretched out their arms and began moving through the town, groping blindly yet with surprising speed—their agility had to be over three thousand. They even started using strange, unpredictable skills to catch players.

The desert town wasn't small, but packed with over four thousand players and with flying disabled, it quickly grew suffocatingly cramped.

Whether or not they had played something like this before, players instinctively knew how to cause chaos.

Most began throwing nearby objects at one another to lure the robots elsewhere. Others flung skills at the empty ground near other players—since direct attacks were forbidden, it was fair game to cause indirect trouble.

Rita, however, stayed perfectly still. She had hiding skills; she didn't need to drag others into it.

Dawn Cicada stood less than seven meters away, motionless beneath her own tree. Every Mechanoid that came near veered away from her as if repelled. Rita couldn't tell what skill she had used.

She took one glance, then looked away.

A breath later, a faint floral scent surrounded her, and a hand seized her wrist.

She was spun halfway around, face-to-face with Dawn Cicada's serene yet glacial expression.

"I really don't understand what's so special about you."

Dawn Cicada's voice was soft, her tone edged with a mocking smile. In the silence of the desert breeze, the words carried sharp and clear.

Dozens of Mechanoids immediately turned toward them and began moving in their direction.

Rita didn't flinch. She wasn't going to risk divine punishment just to trade insults. Instead, she gave Dawn Cicada a puzzled look, as if asking: How did you find me?

[You Are Being Watched] [You Are Being Watched] [You Are Being Watched]

Rita froze.

Not again. Why now?

Dawn Cicada clearly heard it too. Her expression didn't change, but the mockery at the corners of her eyes deepened.

It made Rita doubt her own guess.

That earlier line—"I really don't understand what's so special about you"—could carry a trace of jealousy.

Maybe it wasn't about rivalry or hatred at all, but about Wrathful Moon choosing Rita as its master. For someone like Dawn Cicada, that would be an unbearable slight.

Yet it could also mean something else entirely—divine favoritism.

Just as Bone Shade had cursed her out of envy and resentment, perhaps Dawn Cicada felt the same.

The Chaotic Restaurant attacked by rabbits, Chaotic Blocks hunted by Foolishness, two separate votes to change the game's rules—all of it tied back to her. The others weren't stupid. This kind of attention was a form of favor.

But when divine eyes turned their gaze toward her, Dawn Cicada showed no joy, no awe—only disgust.

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