At 9:00 PM, Gu Jiu felt the familiar sensation of being pulled and her vision shifted; she was now in the gray fog space where time was frozen.
The system’s emotionless, mechanical voice announced: [Player is about to enter D-level game zone: Seven Little Sheeps.]
[Game Mission: Survive for three days.]
A game store interface appeared in front of her, listing an array of items.
[Item 1: Red Vine Seed, 50 points each, maximum purchase of 4 per person.]
[Item 2: Holy Light Talisman, 200 points each, maximum purchase of 1 per person.]
[Item 3: Horror Chainsaw, 500 points each, maximum purchase of 1 per person.]
…………
Looking over the items listed in the store, Gu Jiu raised an eyebrow. “Why is it that, except for the first item, all the others are the same as last time? Is this game store really here to scam players?”
System no. 387’s soft-voiced immediately chimed in defensively.
[It’s not about scamming players; rather, the items here are just what players might need in a D-level game zone. You can choose to buy them or not; the game doesn’t force you to.]
Gu Jiu scoffed, “So basically, the game is just trying to drain our points, right? The store’s items are not specifically tailored to each scenario. If players buy items that happen to be useful in the game world, good for them; if not, tough luck. This setup not only tests a player’s insight and judgment but also their wallet.”
If 387 were human, it would be breaking into a cold sweat.
Many players had already raised this complaint, but the game had always played dead, refusing to respond or acknowledge the issue.
As the system administrator, 387 couldn’t avoid it and had to whisper, [Milady, it’s good that you understand. Do you have to spell it out so clearly? Besides, there’s nothing you can change right now…]
After observing Gu Jiu’s ways of clearing games, even the system started calling her “Milady,” avoiding the more familiar “Ah Jiu.”
Gu Jiu, however, remained calm. “You’re right; I’m just voicing my opinion. By the way, why doesn’t the game store carry more items that players actually need?”
387 asked, puzzled, [What other items would players need?]
“Real food!” Gu Jiu asserted. “Do you seriously consider bread and instant noodles as food? Players are fighting for their lives in these games and can’t even eat well. The psychological toll is huge. Isn’t the game concerned?”
387: [….] Honestly, it had yet to see any sign of psychological toll on this “Milady.”
However, 387 held Gu Jiu in high regard and didn’t want to brush her off, so it replied quickly, [I’ll pass your feedback along to the Multiverse game management.]
Gu Jiu beamed, “Thanks! I don’t need much, just a meal box on par with a five-star restaurant.”
387 silently pondered whether this was a humble request. What did players who settled for street food think?
After finishing her chat with the system admin, Gu Jiu started her shopping spree.
First and foremost, the Red Vine Seeds ranked at the top are essential. Generally, items listed first are useful in the game world, so the game isn’t entirely out to trick players here.
Most players, when uncertain about the game world, tend to cautiously buy the first few items as a safe bet.
Four Red Vine Seeds cost 200 points, leaving Gu Jiu with only 50 points after the purchase.
387 was aware that she had spent 1,000 points in Boundless City on a 100-slot portable bag, so it refrained from asking if she wanted to buy more life-saving items, knowing she was practically broke.
With her remaining 50 points, Gu Jiu bought clothes, daily necessities, and some food.
After spending all her points, Gu Jiu said to the system, “Alright, let’s enter the game world.”
This time, 387 wasted no time sending her into the game world, lest the now-broke “Milady” start making snide remarks about the game and the system. After all, it was merely a small cog in the game’s machinery, far from being in control.
×××
Gu Jiu adjusted her glasses and took in her surroundings.
It was a dirty, rundown living room. Yellowed old newspapers were pasted on the walls, with patches of plaster peeling off, exposing the brick beneath. Overhead, a round incandescent bulb cast a dull light, its shade soiled with grime, further dimming the already weak glow.
In the muted lighting, everything in the room appeared shadowy and eerie, as if in a haunted house.
A person approached Gu Jiu.
She turned to see who it was and smiled, “Ah Ji.”
Lu Ji barely tugged at the corner of his lips in response, though the forced smile seemed a bit unsettling.
Gu Jiu remarked, “If you don’t want to smile, don’t force it. I know you’re a good girl and don’t need to worry too much about what others think.”
While smiling is often a polite gesture, some people are naturally not inclined to it, especially in such a strange environment, so there’s no need to insist.
Lu Ji, who was labeled as a “good girl”: “….”
“Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Gu and Miss Lu!”
A warm, surprised voice called out. Gu Jiu and Lu Ji looked up to see a massive shadow blocking the light as a hefty figure moved in front of them.
Gu Jiu raised her eyebrows slightly and smiled, “Oh, it’s Brother Fatty. Where’s Brother Skinny?”
Fatty chuckled and stepped aside to reveal the thin figure he’d been obstructing.
Seeing Gu Jiu and Lu Ji, Skinny’s mood seemed to lift as he nodded in greeting.
“We really must be destined to meet! I didn’t expect we’d end up in the same game again,” Fatty said, his body jiggling with excitement.
“Even though we parted just two games ago, it feels like it’s been months since we last saw each other…”
Fatty’s joy was understandable. Ever since he and his brother became players in the Multiverse game world, they’d encountered many people, but Gu Jiu had left the deepest impression on him. Despite it being her first game, her performance had outshone that of the more experienced players. She was practically a rising star in the making, and it was clear she had the potential to become one of the high-level elites in the future. To establish a good rapport with such a promising player before she ascended to greatness was naturally advantageous.
Their friendly gathering attracted the attention of other players. While friendships among players weren’t unheard of, it was rare for anyone to truly trust or open up to others in the game world. Seeing such camaraderie sparked a bit of envy among some of the onlookers.
This round had gathered thirteen players: eight regulars and five newcomers.
The experienced players carefully examined their surroundings, while the newcomers looked around in panic and confusion. However, they refrained from shouting or asking what was happening, seemingly aware enough to hold back.
As the four of them chatted, a woman dressed in a sleek black leather outfit, looking cool and tough, approached the newcomers. She wasted no time with small talk and succinctly explained the nature of the Multiverse game and the mission at hand. Though brief, her explanation was thorough, not withholding any key details.
It seemed this woman had been designated by the game to provide orientation to the newcomers.
She wasn’t traditionally beautiful, but her face had a striking, spirited look, and she possessed an undeniable charisma.
After briefing the newcomers, she ignored their reactions and turned to the regular players, introducing herself. “My name is Ying Tong, and I’m about to advance to the C-level zone.”
Her introduction was simple and direct, emphasizing her level of experience.
An experienced player nearing the C-level zone was impressive, naturally attracting others to rally around her, hoping her guidance would lead them safely through the game.
Indeed, the three other regular players exchanged glances and gravitated toward her, introducing themselves in turn. Fatty, ever sociable, pulled his brother along to join them, excited to meet another impressive female player.
Though Gu Jiu and Lu Ji didn’t join the crowd, they also didn’t try to challenge her position as the leader. Once the others had introduced themselves, they too offered brief introductions.
This game’s eight regular players included five men and three women, all in their twenties.
The five newcomers were also relatively young: a brawny man with a greasy tank top, sporting a coiling dragon tattoo on his arm; a pale, hollow-eyed man with a nerdy look; a shy, demure woman with delicate features; a man in a cheap suit who had an honest, modest air; and a handsome man in a beige casual outfit.
The man in casual clothes let his gaze linger on the three women, his eyes practically glued to Gu Jiu as he stared at her in a daze.
It was clear that among the four women, Gu Jiu stood out the most, not only because of her appearance but also her aura.
Standing quietly, she seemed like a serene ink painting bathed in soft light—elegant, refined, and extraordinary. Her presence elevated the dreary, decrepit environment, making it feel less stifling.
While Lu Ji was also attractive, her sickly complexion, cold demeanor, and pale face made her seem unapproachable. Ying Tong had an imposing, tomboyish charm, and the shy woman could at most be called pretty.
With Gu Jiu’s graceful beauty and dignified presence, she naturally drew the attention of others, who often mistook her for a gentle and refined lady, someone with the poise of an Miss.
The man in the casual attire, named Tu Shuai, was a notorious playboy in the real world. Seeing Gu Jiu, he made no attempt to hide his interest, his gaze lingering on her openly.
Sensing something, Lu Ji turned his gaze toward him, his dark eyes fixed on him intensely.
Tu Shuai shivered inexplicably under her stare, a chill running through him. For a moment, he felt an instinctual fear, quickly averting his eyes. Realizing what he’d done, he cursed himself inwardly for getting spooked in such a creepy environment.
What was there to fear from the gaze of some slip of a girl?
Despite his inner monologue, his gaze kept darting around restlessly, especially in the direction of the women. When he caught Ying Tong’s eye, he flashed what he thought was a charming smile, but she merely glanced away indifferently.
Creaaak—
A sharp, jarring sound echoed, drawing everyone’s attention to the entrance of the living room, where someone was pushing open the doors.
The doors were old, two wooden panels that emitted grating squeaks with every movement, their sounds scraping against the silence like nails on a chalkboard.
A man, skeletal in appearance, entered.
He was even thinner than the rail-thin “Skinny,” his clothes hanging loosely from his bony frame as if they were simply draped over a skeleton. His hand, clutching a flashlight, appeared like skin stretched tightly over bone, and his face was a mask of thin flesh clinging to a prominent skull, cheekbones, and jaw, giving him the semblance of some primitive, incomplete creature.
There was something deeply unsettling about him.
He scanned them with a pair of cloudy, hungry eyes, filled with undisguised greed and something more sinister, a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth.
Everyone: “….” This was the most unfiltered NPC they’d ever encountered.
The regular players remained motionless, watching the man cautiously, recognizing him as an NPC likely tied to the game. Although the newcomers were unfamiliar with the game world, they followed the regular players’ lead, refraining from any rash actions and waiting to see what the NPC would do next.
The man grinned, his skull-like face twisting into a ghastly smile.
“I’m your landlord. Follow me, and I’ll show you to your rooms,” he rasped, his gaze lingering greedily on each of them before turning and leading them through the living room with slow, stiff movements.
At the back of the living room was a door leading to a staircase. The landlord took the lead, moving sluggishly, while the players, led by Ying Tong, followed in silence.
The staircase was so narrow it barely allowed two people to walk side by side.
In the quiet, Gu Jiu’s voice rose, “Why is the staircase so narrow? And couldn’t they at least install some lights? It’s too dark and hard to walk here.”
Her voice was soft and slightly petulant, with a hint of girlish charm, like someone used to being pampered.
Without turning, the landlord’s hoarse voice responded, “This is a self-built house. It cost a fortune to build back then, drained everything I had. I had to cut corners wherever I could. As long as it’s walkable, why waste extra money? You’re renting here because it’s cheap, aren’t you?”
His tone dripped with disdain, implicitly mocking them as penny-pinching pretenders, pretending to have high standards yet complaining.
The players bit their tongues, resisting the urge to retort. As if they’d willingly come to rent in this hellhole! They were practically dragged here against their will!
Gu Jiu scoffed, “Fine, then. Give us our money back, and we’ll leave.”
The landlord was speechless: “.…”
The other players: “.…” Could she really pull a move like that?
The landlord ignored her, continuing up the stairs as if he hadn’t heard a word.
Seeing his reaction, Gu Jiu knew there was no chance of getting a refund and continued to provoke him.
“The only reason I rented this place was because I was duped by false advertising! How dare you rent out a place like this and charge so much? Even if you paid me, I’d still think it’s beneath me to stay here. Just look at this filthy floor—it must have decades of grime built up, probably never cleaned!”
All the way up, Gu Jiu kept talking, picking apart every inch of the place with criticism and even throwing shade at the landlord himself with cutting remarks.
If this were in the real world, she’d probably already be trending online for her merciless commentary.
The players stared at her as if witnessing a miracle, full of admiration. Was it really a good idea to stir up so much hostility right after entering the game? Didn’t she worry that the landlord might turn out to be a boss character and take her out first?
Finally, they reached the top of the stairs. The landlord stopped and shot Gu Jiu a cold glare.
Gu Jiu met his gaze without flinching, still relentless with her barbs.
“Am I wrong? You’re incompetent, a bottom-feeder, and I’m not supposed to say so? A house reflects its owner—just look at this dump, and it’s clear what kind of person you must be. Your insides must be as shabby, decrepit, and revolting as this place.”
In that moment, everyone could see that the landlord was barely restraining himself from strangling her on the spot.
The veins on his skeleton-thin face pulsed, revealing just how much her words had rattled him.
Finally, instead of snapping, he broke into a sinister smile.
“Let’s see if you’ll still be so bold after tonight.”
Without another word, he gestured toward the doors surrounding them.
“There are thirteen rooms here. Choose one for yourselves.”