Kaito accepted the sealed Demonic Rabbit meat and set it carefully to the side. He then straightened and fixed his gaze on his second uncle.
"Uncle," Kaito began, his voice calm yet firm, "there's something else I've been considering. If we want to expand our strength, we can't only rely on the ruins or our current businesses. We need to move into new industries. And I believe the entertainment sector can be our next step."
His uncle tilted his head, brows knitting in mild surprise. "Entertainment?"
"Yes," Kaito said evenly. "You've seen it yourself. Glory is more than a game now. Live streamers are everywhere, building massive followings and earning fortunes. If we establish our own branch—hire players to act as anchors, reporters, even journalists—we can create a network of influence that grows as the game itself expands."
At that, his uncle fell silent, clearly pondering the weight of Kaito's words.
Kaito, meanwhile, let his thoughts drift inward. He wasn't just speculating. He remembered this path vividly from his past life. Entire guilds had once risen to prominence by focusing solely on journalism. Entertainment corporations had contracted popular streamers and anchors, turning them into celebrities who shaped the culture of Glory itself.
And when the first wave of players reached the Cities, the possibilities had multiplied. The city's arena hadn't only been a battlefield for PvP duels—it was also a stage. Its environment could be altered for a price, and entertainment companies had used that function to astonishing effect. Movies were filmed inside the game without the crushing costs of VFX. Concerts were staged, tickets sold through the spectator system. Even celebrities had stepped into Glory, their virtual performances drawing crowds of millions.
That was the moment when Glory stopped being a mere game and truly became humanity's second world.
Kaito's expression hardened as he remembered what came after. The Federation had announced a monumental upgrade that shook the world. Overnight, the rules of Glory changed: playtime was extended from twenty-four hours to forty-eight, and control of the system was said to have been handed over to a so-called neutral AI. With that declaration, Glory's position as humanity's "second world" was cemented. Staying within the game no longer meant just entertainment—it now promised a direct extension of life itself, doubling a player's lifespan.
Of course, martial artists who cultivated diligently could still increase their years through training, but at that time most of the population were still ordinary civilians. Spiritual energy had yet to resurge, and the masses clung to whatever opportunity the Federation presented. Back then, players—including Kaito himself—had celebrated the change, convinced that for once the Federation had chosen fairness over favoritism.
But Kaito now understood the truth. That AI hadn't been designed by the Federation at all. It had been part of the meteoric core from the very beginning—a dormant tower spirit that had evolved according to the world rules, patiently biding its time until it awakened. Once it did, not even the Federation could maintain its hidden advantages. Before, they had cracked pieces of quests, and passed secrets to their allied guilds, giving the Platinum families an enormous lead. But after the AI's awakening, even that advantage began to crumble.
For most citizens, it had been a revelation. For Kaito, it had once been a lifeline. In his previous life, he had welcomed it as a stroke of fortune, believing—like everyone else—that the decision came from so-called neutral members of the Federation who acted outside any faction, supposedly for the people's benefit. It had seemed like a chance for ordinary players to finally stand against the giants.
But now, with the clarity of rebirth, Kaito understood the truth. It had never been fortune, nor fairness. It was simply inevitability.
And then no matter how powerful the enemies standing in his way—the Federation, the Platinum families, or their allied guilds—the future of Glory was destined to be fair. The AI would see to that.
His lips curved faintly, the steel in his gaze unshaken.
Another reason Kaito had proposed this idea was simple: even if the Ren family openly declared their move into the entertainment industry, no powerful faction would bother suppressing them. At most, they might face resistance from existing players in the field—an ordinary kind of suppression every newcomer faced. In fact, many might even scoff at them for choosing to develop within Glory rather than the real world, dismissing it as nothing more than a trivial venture. But that very disdain would buy the Ren family precious time to establish their foundation.
By the time others realized the industry's true potential, it would already be too late. The Ren family would not only have grown stronger in martial cultivation, but their entertainment business would have matured into a top-tier company, firmly rooted and nearly impossible to dislodge—exactly as Kaito envisioned.
…
His second uncle looked up after a long silence. He had weighed the idea carefully, considering both its risks and possibilities. Finally, he gave a slow nod.
"I also think this can be done," he said. "But we should begin on a small scale first. If it proves successful, then we can expand gradually into the entertainment sector."
He paused, his expression firm. "After all, even with the resources from the library ruins, we shouldn't depend on them too heavily. That kind of wealth can vanish at any moment. It's best to be self-reliant. To strengthen our financial foundation, we must broaden our businesses. Before this, the Ren family didn't have the strength to support large ventures, so we stayed within two or three safe trades. But now, with what we've gained, it's time to grow."
Kaito's lips curved faintly. His uncle had understood exactly what he hoped for.
Now that his second uncle had played Glory long enough to sense the potential hidden within it, and after hearing Kaito's suggestion, he seemed convinced this was a proper path forward.
"So," his uncle asked at last, "what do you plan to do?"
Kaito reached into his storage and produced three neatly prepared lists, handing them over one by one.
"The first," he explained, "contains names of famous anchors and live streamers. Some already stand out in Glory, while others gained recognition in earlier virtual games. Right now, no one has recognized just how massive this potential is. A few studios are beginning to dabble in live streaming, but they're still blind to the scale of what's coming. If we move quickly, we can merge one or two of those small studios directly into our own company, bringing both their infrastructure and their talent under our banner." Not only that kaito had also included the names of those players who would become famous live streamers in the future.
His uncle's eyes flicked over the list, thoughtful.
"The second," Kaito continued, "is focused on journalism. These are names of small news companies and individual anchors who built their followings through skill, not money. They're not only good speakers—they're competent players as well. Some could even support us in battle when needed. If we bring them in early, they'll add legitimacy to our platform and credibility to our broadcasts."
Again, his uncle said nothing, but his brows eased slightly as he read.
Finally, Kaito tapped the third sheet. "And this one… is for celebrities." In this list Kaito had included, some figures who will explode in popularity once they step into Glory. Others were artists who seem washed up in the real world right now but will regain staggering influence after entering the game.He also included names of a few who are already famous today and are known for their good character—they'll remain relevant in the future.
At that, his uncle frowned. "Celebrities? Isn't that too big of a step? If we want to start small, shouldn't we focus only on the streamers and anchors? Why tie ourselves to the cost and trouble of celebrities now?"
"Don't worry, Uncle," Kaito replied calmly. "Just sign them. We'll need them in the future. Trust me."
His uncle studied him for a long moment, then gave a reluctant nod.
Kaito leaned closer. "One more thing. Use contracts inside Glory itself—the contracts of the Law God. Make sure you include a clause: if they want to terminate the contract to join another company, they must pay a hundred times the compensation. And more importantly, they'll be permanently barred from working in the entertainment industry again. That way, once they join us, they're bound to us completely."
His uncle inhaled slowly, considering. The clause was harsh, but if the industry truly became what Kaito envisioned, it would ensure absolute loyalty.
"Very well," he said at last. "We'll also form a proper company in reality to register these people under. As for funds—don't use your personal credits. The family already has enough left from what you gave us before. I'll allocate fifty million credits directly from the remaining hundred million to establish this entertainment venture."
Kaito smiled faintly, nodding in approval. "Good. Then you'll take charge of this, Uncle. Let me know if you need anything."
With that, he rose, clasped his uncle's shoulder, and turned away. The next destination awaited him—the church.