The Walk-in Closet Safehouse CH8
Chapter 8: The Predicament
Even with the 30% slowing buff from the Guardian Pinky Ring, there was no stopping the pervasive invasion of moisture from the outside world. Still, the current situation was actually better than Cui Ye had expected.
Inside her rental, Cui Ye took out a mirror. A fish-scale-shaped red patch had starkly appeared on her otherwise delicate face. It was itchy, painful, and throbbed with a faint heat. She had just checked her temperature and it was still within the normal range.
The official website had detailed descriptions of the Scale-Spot Disease symptoms, but she hadn't expected the red patches to manifest as soon as her infection hit 10%.
If it were just simple Scale-Spot Disease, she could handle it—disfigurement could be fixed with plastic surgery later, at least she wouldn't turn into a monster. Right now, the symptoms weren't severe, and she could resist the urge to scratch. But if left alone, the patch would spread, and the next step would be ulceration. There were no ambulances to take her to a hospital now; the morgues in the basement levels were likely already overcapacity.
Her options were limited. She did the only things she could: eat, drink, and stay calm. There was always a way. She had a bowl of beef tripe stew, took some anti-inflammatory meds, and downed a bottle of the mineral water she had lugged back from across town before crashing.
The next morning, Cui Ye was jolted awake by thunder. The temperature seemed to have dropped again.
She first checked the five pieces of clothing that had refreshed today. To her disappointment, none of them had special attributes. After the last two days, she had assumed every refresh would yield something magical, but it turned out to be pure luck. However, her mood lifted slightly when she saw the refresh included a set of fresh underwear.
Only someone facing a water shortage could understand the misery of not being able to bathe. She couldn't wash or dry her clothes properly either, so she was forced to wear an outfit and then throw it away. Fortunately, she wasn't a neat freak, and her wardrobe provided a steady stream of replacements.
She threw on a long coat and walked to the window. Through the safehouse window, she could peek at the world outside. Inside the empty apartment, the AC had stopped running at some point. She checked the neighborhood group chat and learned the power had gone out at 9:00 PM last night and hadn't been restored.
There had been no official notice and no word on when it would return. Cui Ye looked at the heavy rain outside; hope felt slim. At least the water was still running; otherwise, the bathroom would become unbearable within days.
Some people wanted to stockpile water for emergencies, but if too much water was stored in a room, the humidity would spike and accelerate infection. Everyone could only pray the water wouldn't be cut and the power would return soon.
The neighborhood group was full of anxiety. People on the lower floors were pleading for help from those higher up. The lower the floor, the worse the dampness. Cui Ye lived on the 15th floor, but after just one night without power, a corner of the wall was already damp. A patch of grey-green mold had quietly appeared, making her frown. Outside, the water level had already cleared five steps and entered the stairwell.
Watching the raindrops pelt the glass amidst the thunder, Cui Ye tore open a bag of biscuits and ate them quickly to settle her rising stomach acid. She took a roll of waterproof tape and sealed the window frame layer by layer. A hint of dampness spread across her fingertips; the rain was simply too heavy.
After reinforcing the window, Cui Ye returned to the Safe House and checked the Christmas sock hanging behind the door. It was bulging—there was something inside!
Before reaching in, she cautiously leaned in for a sniff. Confirming there was no strange odor, she reached inside. Her hand immediately brushed against something strangely shaped, somewhat hard yet soft, and a bit sticky... it felt disgusting.
She pulled it out: 'Banana Peel 1'. It was yellow and fresh, as if someone had just finished a banana, realized there wasn't a trash can nearby, and shoved it into the sock as a prank. An "evil-hearted" gift.
[Congratulations! Player has obtained: Yellow Banana Peel]
[Yellow Banana Peel: Single-use item. Throw it out and let some poor soul’s backside get intimately acquainted with the floor!]
Cui Ye: "..."
Useful, yet somehow useless. I'll just tuck it away for now.
She opened the Safe Houses interface to check the stats as usual. Defense was normal at 100; Durability was unchanged at 0. Indoor Environment... Cui Ye’s chewing slowed as her eyes locked onto the updated information:
[Indoor Environment: Mildly Damp (Moisture Intrusion: 9%)]
Cui Ye wasn't the only one; many players with bound Safe Houses were discovering this change. The "Normal" status had suddenly been replaced by a debuff. Some were "Mildly Damp," while others had already reached "Moderately Damp."
Wearing clothes that weren't dry enough would also accelerate infection—that was one of the official warnings.
Some followed the official advice and lit fires. It worked at first; the moisture intrusion levels dropped, and the "Mildly Damp" debuff vanished.
But as fuel ran low, they began burning everything—wooden furniture, books, even curtains and bedsheets. It only lasted a few hours. Once the flames died, the dampness returned.
Fear began to breed. The comment section on the official website was overrun, forcing authorities to shut it down. Still, the wave of negativity online couldn't be suppressed. More and more people fell into despair, losing faith in the "Shelters" promised by the officials. They worried their infection levels wouldn't last long enough for the shelters to be completed.
Waking up, those who had planned to head out for supplies were met with one nightmare after another. Water levels had risen, cars were totaled, and public transport was completely paralyzed. If you wanted to search for supplies, you had to row a boat. But the bad news didn't stop there.
Someone uploaded footage captured by a camera: water monsters were diving and swimming with incredible speed—much faster than they were on land. The risk of going outside had skyrocketed.
When Cui Ye returned yesterday, she had learned from her roommates that their plan to trade supplies with neighbors to complete their mission had failed across the board.
In truth, there was still a way to "complete" the mission: stealing. She wasn't the only one who had thought of it, but currently, most households still had some reserves. Things hadn't reached that breaking point yet, and no one wanted to be the first to act—especially since success wasn't guaranteed.
With no gold coins, dwindling supplies, and rising infection levels, symptoms were manifesting. The buildings standing in the water were like besieged islands; it felt as if every path to survival had been cut off overnight. Many people, including her two roommates, regretted not going out yesterday.
Those who had bound Safe Houses were originally the least stressed group, but it turned out that Safe Houses weren't 100% safe either. Many stopped hiding their status and went online to plead for help, hoping other Safe House players had a solution.
Threads grew rapidly, but most people were just there to watch the drama or mock the victims. Real advice was rare.
Now everyone knew how vital a Safe House was, but some still only knew what a Lucky Balloon looked like from pictures online. Others had bragged about their gold coins when they first got them, drawing a massive amount of attention.
Back then, those people were smug about their sudden wealth and follower counts, thinking they were on the path to greatness. They never expected that in just half a day, the apocalypse the game spoke of would truly arrive.
The quick-witted ones realized the coins weren't just coins and deleted their accounts immediately. Others were too slow; people came knocking on their doors. Calls to the police were made, but by the time officers arrived, the rooms were ransacked, leaving only the unconscious owners on the floor.
It was a chain reaction of robberies and lootings. No wonder so many soldiers had been stationed at the mall yesterday. Before transport collapsed, guarding supply points was the only way to keep more people alive. Cui Ye had been a beneficiary of that.
However, because she hadn't expected the [Random Shop] to appear or that she’d buy a life-saving item, she had cautiously decided to take the Safe House with her. She waited for the 24-hour placement cooldown to end, finally setting out near 1:00 PM.
She had thought she had plenty of time to return before dark, but she hadn't expected sunset to shift two hours early. Then, she was blocked by water monsters on the last stretch. If she hadn't obtained the [Plushie Collector], she likely would have been forced to drop her Safe House in an open area like the others, becoming just another piece of "material."
Cui Ye looked through a "Safe House Collection" compiled by a netizen. Clicking through, she realized how diverse Safe Houses could be.
Mushroom houses, coffee shops, public toilets, train carriages, bars... and many that you couldn't even name just by looking at them. They just looked like square concrete boxes with slightly different doors and windows.
It was as if a small room from an existing building had been ripped out and turned into a standalone unit. Cui Ye guessed that if her Safe House left the closet, it would probably look like one of those concrete boxes in the photos—and it would be the smallest one of all.
Looking through the photos, Cui Ye noticed most people's Safe Houses were around 20 square meters. Hers was pitifully small—only five or six square meters. Even the mushroom house looked twice as big as hers.
She supposed she should be glad the walk-in closet had built-in wardrobes on two walls, leaving some floor space. Otherwise, she wouldn't be sleeping on a padded bench; she’d be sleeping on a pile of supplies.
In the collection, Cui Ye was most interested in that mushroom house. White stalk, red cap—clearly a poisonous mushroom. Scores of spores floated on the water surrounding the house; it looked peaceful, completely at odds with the miserable state of the other Safe Houses.
Take the bar—the largest-looking Safe House—as an example. Its two glass windows were completely shattered, and the door looked ready to collapse. Slanted rain was already drifting inside. Other Safe Houses were in various states of disrepair, but most still had their crucial doors and windows intact.
Logically, since that bar had lost its defensive capabilities, the owner was either dead or had abandoned ship. Yet the photo showed two water monsters lingering around it, refusing to leave.
Cui Ye looked at the string of "Rest in Peace" and candle emojis under the photo. She suspected the owner might still be alive and inside. Water monsters had sacrificed their brains for hunting instincts; they wouldn't hang around an empty house. Still, that Safe House was huge. She was jealous...
As Cui Ye stared at the picture, her phone suddenly buzzed. It was a company group chat. She remembered quitting all of them two days ago?
Driven by curiosity, she clicked in. After checking the members, she remembered this group had been created temporarily for a department team-building trip. After the trip, it was forgotten. She hadn't realized it was never disbanded.
Cui Ye grabbed a bag of chips and scrolled through messages while eating. She found that Cao Zhongliang, that corporate bootlicker, was with Zhao Guangcai—the guy with the "connections."
Cao had posted photos in the group. Though the lighting was dim, you could see stacks of supplies in the room. There were over ten crates in the shot alone.
He promised that anyone who came to rescue him and Zhao Guangcai could take five crates of supplies for themselves—first come, first served. He was even "clever" enough to place crates of canned meat and self-heating rice right in the center of the frame. It was a perfectly decorated bait, waiting for a hungry predator to bite.
Cui Ye knew this guy too well. Four words: Profit above all else. His shaky sense of morality was held together solely by the Civil Code.
She didn't believe for a second he’d be that generous. If he had stockpiled supplies so early to prepare for the end of the world, why would he give them away? "First come, first served" likely meant "first to arrive, first to die."
The location he sent was on a commercial street. There was a large mall nearby—not the one she visited yesterday, but not far from it. He had likely faced the same situation she had: getting surrounded by water monsters while transporting supplies and being forced to hide in a nearby building.
Looking at the amount of supplies in the photo, and considering his beer belly and Zhao Guangcai’s "inflated" muscles, there was no way they had moved it all themselves. They must have had help. Otherwise, they’d be halfway to their next life by now, not scamming people in a group chat.
If anyone fell for it and rushed over, they’d be walking into an ambush. Whether they were finished off by the monsters in the water or the humans on land depended on how much "brainpower" they had sacrificed for muscle.
Cui Ye only guessed part of it. Cao Zhongliang hadn't revealed the most critical detail: the Safe House. The bar in the collection—the one that looked the largest—was his. Although the ground floor had been destroyed, the basement level was still intact.
Because the doors and windows were broken, the restriction that only the owner and tenants could enter was gone. In the crisis, after sacrificing two bodyguards, the remaining four had crawled into the basement storage room. The entrance was hidden, and the water monsters—who were reluctant to leave the water—hadn't found them.
Most of their supplies were in that basement. Although it was only half the size of the first floor, they at least had enough to eat and drink. But food eventually runs out. Besides, there were only twelve days left in the countdown, and they had no clue where the [Ticket Hall] was.
To survive longer, the Safe House had to be repaired. Repairs cost gold coins. Since the four of them couldn't even scrounge up a single coin, they hoped someone passing by would lure the monsters away so they could escape and find a solution.
Of course, if the person who showed up brought gold coins to "fund" their repairs, that would be even better.
Zhao Guangcai had called his uncle for help, but the man hung up the moment he heard about the damage and their current state. Zhao Guangcai had smashed his phone in a rage.
With no other choice, Cao Zhongliang had to come up with a plan, which led to the group messages. He had actually sent the same message to every group he was in. Cui Ye had only seen one of them.
Seeing that no "unlucky fish" had bitten in this group, Cui Ye quit it too. She had no idea that in a dim, foul-smelling basement, Cao Zhongliang’s wide net had actually snagged a few catches.
Successfully quitting the group felt like a final goodbye to her former life as a "working-class ox." Right now, she had more pressing problems. She woke up to find the red patch on her face had darkened. She had to keep distracting herself to keep her hands from scratching it.
Her infection level had reached 13%.
It seemed like she hadn't received a single piece of good news since she woke up. But as long as she looked at her hard-earned supplies and counted her glittering gold coins, her mood improved.
Under the bright white light, two stacks of gold coins were neatly arranged before her. Not one more, not one less: exactly twenty. One coin from the daily mission, and nineteen from the nineteen water monsters she’d slain. Cui Ye felt she had finally cracked the code—farming monsters was much faster than doing missions.
She was supposed to have upgraded her Safe House yesterday, but after reconsidering, she decided to wait for today’s shop refresh. Fortunately, the wait was worth it.
[Today’s Items: Food Voucher (1 Gold Coin), Protective Shield (2 Gold Coins), Dehumidifier (20 Gold Coins)]
Even with the 30% slowing buff from the Guardian Pinky Ring, there was no stopping the pervasive invasion of moisture from the outside world. Still, the current situation was actually better than Cui Ye had expected.
Inside her rental, Cui Ye took out a mirror. A fish-scale-shaped red patch had starkly appeared on her otherwise delicate face. It was itchy, painful, and throbbed with a faint heat. She had just checked her temperature and it was still within the normal range.
The official website had detailed descriptions of the Scale-Spot Disease symptoms, but she hadn't expected the red patches to manifest as soon as her infection hit 10%.
If it were just simple Scale-Spot Disease, she could handle it—disfigurement could be fixed with plastic surgery later, at least she wouldn't turn into a monster. Right now, the symptoms weren't severe, and she could resist the urge to scratch. But if left alone, the patch would spread, and the next step would be ulceration. There were no ambulances to take her to a hospital now; the morgues in the basement levels were likely already overcapacity.
Her options were limited. She did the only things she could: eat, drink, and stay calm. There was always a way. She had a bowl of beef tripe stew, took some anti-inflammatory meds, and downed a bottle of the mineral water she had lugged back from across town before crashing.
The next morning, Cui Ye was jolted awake by thunder. The temperature seemed to have dropped again.
She first checked the five pieces of clothing that had refreshed today. To her disappointment, none of them had special attributes. After the last two days, she had assumed every refresh would yield something magical, but it turned out to be pure luck. However, her mood lifted slightly when she saw the refresh included a set of fresh underwear.
Only someone facing a water shortage could understand the misery of not being able to bathe. She couldn't wash or dry her clothes properly either, so she was forced to wear an outfit and then throw it away. Fortunately, she wasn't a neat freak, and her wardrobe provided a steady stream of replacements.
She threw on a long coat and walked to the window. Through the safehouse window, she could peek at the world outside. Inside the empty apartment, the AC had stopped running at some point. She checked the neighborhood group chat and learned the power had gone out at 9:00 PM last night and hadn't been restored.
There had been no official notice and no word on when it would return. Cui Ye looked at the heavy rain outside; hope felt slim. At least the water was still running; otherwise, the bathroom would become unbearable within days.
Some people wanted to stockpile water for emergencies, but if too much water was stored in a room, the humidity would spike and accelerate infection. Everyone could only pray the water wouldn't be cut and the power would return soon.
The neighborhood group was full of anxiety. People on the lower floors were pleading for help from those higher up. The lower the floor, the worse the dampness. Cui Ye lived on the 15th floor, but after just one night without power, a corner of the wall was already damp. A patch of grey-green mold had quietly appeared, making her frown. Outside, the water level had already cleared five steps and entered the stairwell.
Watching the raindrops pelt the glass amidst the thunder, Cui Ye tore open a bag of biscuits and ate them quickly to settle her rising stomach acid. She took a roll of waterproof tape and sealed the window frame layer by layer. A hint of dampness spread across her fingertips; the rain was simply too heavy.
After reinforcing the window, Cui Ye returned to the Safe House and checked the Christmas sock hanging behind the door. It was bulging—there was something inside!
Before reaching in, she cautiously leaned in for a sniff. Confirming there was no strange odor, she reached inside. Her hand immediately brushed against something strangely shaped, somewhat hard yet soft, and a bit sticky... it felt disgusting.
She pulled it out: 'Banana Peel 1'. It was yellow and fresh, as if someone had just finished a banana, realized there wasn't a trash can nearby, and shoved it into the sock as a prank. An "evil-hearted" gift.
[Congratulations! Player has obtained: Yellow Banana Peel]
[Yellow Banana Peel: Single-use item. Throw it out and let some poor soul’s backside get intimately acquainted with the floor!]
Cui Ye: "..."
Useful, yet somehow useless. I'll just tuck it away for now.
She opened the Safe Houses interface to check the stats as usual. Defense was normal at 100; Durability was unchanged at 0. Indoor Environment... Cui Ye’s chewing slowed as her eyes locked onto the updated information:
[Indoor Environment: Mildly Damp (Moisture Intrusion: 9%)]
Cui Ye wasn't the only one; many players with bound Safe Houses were discovering this change. The "Normal" status had suddenly been replaced by a debuff. Some were "Mildly Damp," while others had already reached "Moderately Damp."
Wearing clothes that weren't dry enough would also accelerate infection—that was one of the official warnings.
Some followed the official advice and lit fires. It worked at first; the moisture intrusion levels dropped, and the "Mildly Damp" debuff vanished.
But as fuel ran low, they began burning everything—wooden furniture, books, even curtains and bedsheets. It only lasted a few hours. Once the flames died, the dampness returned.
Fear began to breed. The comment section on the official website was overrun, forcing authorities to shut it down. Still, the wave of negativity online couldn't be suppressed. More and more people fell into despair, losing faith in the "Shelters" promised by the officials. They worried their infection levels wouldn't last long enough for the shelters to be completed.
Waking up, those who had planned to head out for supplies were met with one nightmare after another. Water levels had risen, cars were totaled, and public transport was completely paralyzed. If you wanted to search for supplies, you had to row a boat. But the bad news didn't stop there.
Someone uploaded footage captured by a camera: water monsters were diving and swimming with incredible speed—much faster than they were on land. The risk of going outside had skyrocketed.
When Cui Ye returned yesterday, she had learned from her roommates that their plan to trade supplies with neighbors to complete their mission had failed across the board.
In truth, there was still a way to "complete" the mission: stealing. She wasn't the only one who had thought of it, but currently, most households still had some reserves. Things hadn't reached that breaking point yet, and no one wanted to be the first to act—especially since success wasn't guaranteed.
With no gold coins, dwindling supplies, and rising infection levels, symptoms were manifesting. The buildings standing in the water were like besieged islands; it felt as if every path to survival had been cut off overnight. Many people, including her two roommates, regretted not going out yesterday.
Those who had bound Safe Houses were originally the least stressed group, but it turned out that Safe Houses weren't 100% safe either. Many stopped hiding their status and went online to plead for help, hoping other Safe House players had a solution.
Threads grew rapidly, but most people were just there to watch the drama or mock the victims. Real advice was rare.
Now everyone knew how vital a Safe House was, but some still only knew what a Lucky Balloon looked like from pictures online. Others had bragged about their gold coins when they first got them, drawing a massive amount of attention.
Back then, those people were smug about their sudden wealth and follower counts, thinking they were on the path to greatness. They never expected that in just half a day, the apocalypse the game spoke of would truly arrive.
The quick-witted ones realized the coins weren't just coins and deleted their accounts immediately. Others were too slow; people came knocking on their doors. Calls to the police were made, but by the time officers arrived, the rooms were ransacked, leaving only the unconscious owners on the floor.
It was a chain reaction of robberies and lootings. No wonder so many soldiers had been stationed at the mall yesterday. Before transport collapsed, guarding supply points was the only way to keep more people alive. Cui Ye had been a beneficiary of that.
However, because she hadn't expected the [Random Shop] to appear or that she’d buy a life-saving item, she had cautiously decided to take the Safe House with her. She waited for the 24-hour placement cooldown to end, finally setting out near 1:00 PM.
She had thought she had plenty of time to return before dark, but she hadn't expected sunset to shift two hours early. Then, she was blocked by water monsters on the last stretch. If she hadn't obtained the [Plushie Collector], she likely would have been forced to drop her Safe House in an open area like the others, becoming just another piece of "material."
Cui Ye looked through a "Safe House Collection" compiled by a netizen. Clicking through, she realized how diverse Safe Houses could be.
Mushroom houses, coffee shops, public toilets, train carriages, bars... and many that you couldn't even name just by looking at them. They just looked like square concrete boxes with slightly different doors and windows.
It was as if a small room from an existing building had been ripped out and turned into a standalone unit. Cui Ye guessed that if her Safe House left the closet, it would probably look like one of those concrete boxes in the photos—and it would be the smallest one of all.
Looking through the photos, Cui Ye noticed most people's Safe Houses were around 20 square meters. Hers was pitifully small—only five or six square meters. Even the mushroom house looked twice as big as hers.
She supposed she should be glad the walk-in closet had built-in wardrobes on two walls, leaving some floor space. Otherwise, she wouldn't be sleeping on a padded bench; she’d be sleeping on a pile of supplies.
In the collection, Cui Ye was most interested in that mushroom house. White stalk, red cap—clearly a poisonous mushroom. Scores of spores floated on the water surrounding the house; it looked peaceful, completely at odds with the miserable state of the other Safe Houses.
Take the bar—the largest-looking Safe House—as an example. Its two glass windows were completely shattered, and the door looked ready to collapse. Slanted rain was already drifting inside. Other Safe Houses were in various states of disrepair, but most still had their crucial doors and windows intact.
Logically, since that bar had lost its defensive capabilities, the owner was either dead or had abandoned ship. Yet the photo showed two water monsters lingering around it, refusing to leave.
Cui Ye looked at the string of "Rest in Peace" and candle emojis under the photo. She suspected the owner might still be alive and inside. Water monsters had sacrificed their brains for hunting instincts; they wouldn't hang around an empty house. Still, that Safe House was huge. She was jealous...
As Cui Ye stared at the picture, her phone suddenly buzzed. It was a company group chat. She remembered quitting all of them two days ago?
Driven by curiosity, she clicked in. After checking the members, she remembered this group had been created temporarily for a department team-building trip. After the trip, it was forgotten. She hadn't realized it was never disbanded.
Cui Ye grabbed a bag of chips and scrolled through messages while eating. She found that Cao Zhongliang, that corporate bootlicker, was with Zhao Guangcai—the guy with the "connections."
Cao had posted photos in the group. Though the lighting was dim, you could see stacks of supplies in the room. There were over ten crates in the shot alone.
He promised that anyone who came to rescue him and Zhao Guangcai could take five crates of supplies for themselves—first come, first served. He was even "clever" enough to place crates of canned meat and self-heating rice right in the center of the frame. It was a perfectly decorated bait, waiting for a hungry predator to bite.
Cui Ye knew this guy too well. Four words: Profit above all else. His shaky sense of morality was held together solely by the Civil Code.
She didn't believe for a second he’d be that generous. If he had stockpiled supplies so early to prepare for the end of the world, why would he give them away? "First come, first served" likely meant "first to arrive, first to die."
The location he sent was on a commercial street. There was a large mall nearby—not the one she visited yesterday, but not far from it. He had likely faced the same situation she had: getting surrounded by water monsters while transporting supplies and being forced to hide in a nearby building.
Looking at the amount of supplies in the photo, and considering his beer belly and Zhao Guangcai’s "inflated" muscles, there was no way they had moved it all themselves. They must have had help. Otherwise, they’d be halfway to their next life by now, not scamming people in a group chat.
If anyone fell for it and rushed over, they’d be walking into an ambush. Whether they were finished off by the monsters in the water or the humans on land depended on how much "brainpower" they had sacrificed for muscle.
Cui Ye only guessed part of it. Cao Zhongliang hadn't revealed the most critical detail: the Safe House. The bar in the collection—the one that looked the largest—was his. Although the ground floor had been destroyed, the basement level was still intact.
Because the doors and windows were broken, the restriction that only the owner and tenants could enter was gone. In the crisis, after sacrificing two bodyguards, the remaining four had crawled into the basement storage room. The entrance was hidden, and the water monsters—who were reluctant to leave the water—hadn't found them.
Most of their supplies were in that basement. Although it was only half the size of the first floor, they at least had enough to eat and drink. But food eventually runs out. Besides, there were only twelve days left in the countdown, and they had no clue where the [Ticket Hall] was.
To survive longer, the Safe House had to be repaired. Repairs cost gold coins. Since the four of them couldn't even scrounge up a single coin, they hoped someone passing by would lure the monsters away so they could escape and find a solution.
Of course, if the person who showed up brought gold coins to "fund" their repairs, that would be even better.
Zhao Guangcai had called his uncle for help, but the man hung up the moment he heard about the damage and their current state. Zhao Guangcai had smashed his phone in a rage.
With no other choice, Cao Zhongliang had to come up with a plan, which led to the group messages. He had actually sent the same message to every group he was in. Cui Ye had only seen one of them.
Seeing that no "unlucky fish" had bitten in this group, Cui Ye quit it too. She had no idea that in a dim, foul-smelling basement, Cao Zhongliang’s wide net had actually snagged a few catches.
Successfully quitting the group felt like a final goodbye to her former life as a "working-class ox." Right now, she had more pressing problems. She woke up to find the red patch on her face had darkened. She had to keep distracting herself to keep her hands from scratching it.
Her infection level had reached 13%.
It seemed like she hadn't received a single piece of good news since she woke up. But as long as she looked at her hard-earned supplies and counted her glittering gold coins, her mood improved.
Under the bright white light, two stacks of gold coins were neatly arranged before her. Not one more, not one less: exactly twenty. One coin from the daily mission, and nineteen from the nineteen water monsters she’d slain. Cui Ye felt she had finally cracked the code—farming monsters was much faster than doing missions.
She was supposed to have upgraded her Safe House yesterday, but after reconsidering, she decided to wait for today’s shop refresh. Fortunately, the wait was worth it.
[Today’s Items: Food Voucher (1 Gold Coin), Protective Shield (2 Gold Coins), Dehumidifier (20 Gold Coins)]
Cui Ye: !!!
A dehumidifier, finally something useful!
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(Cubbie: That's it for the mass update, see ya next week! If you enjoyed this series, feel free to checkout our other projects. Thanks for reading!)
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