The Walk-in Closet Safehouse CH9
Chapter 9: A Visit from Three Generations
Protective Shield: Can block a portion of incoming attacks once activated.
Dehumidifier: An intelligent "green" appliance. No plug required, ready for use once switched on. Your best helper for moisture removal.
This was exactly what Cui Ye needed. She let out a sigh of relief after double-checking that there were no Safe House level restrictions on its use. While the Protective Shield looked decent, it had to take a backseat to the dehumidifier.
[Obtained Appliance: Dehumidifier]
Twenty gold coins. Her balance was zeroed out once again, but Cui Ye didn't feel the sting of the loss. She looked at the dehumidifier that had materialized before her—it was a plain, white machine. A quick inspection confirmed it had no power cord or manufacturer logos. It was a standard "off-brand" product, but as long as it worked, she didn't care.
She pressed the switch. The machine hummed to life with a soft whir. Perhaps it was just psychological, but the air already felt a bit drier—though she knew it wouldn't be that effective so quickly.
Two hours later, during her eighth check of the Safe House interface, she finally saw the Indoor Environment status return to "Normal". The "Mildly Damp" debuff had completely vanished. The room was crisp; every trace of invading moisture had been purged by the dehumidifier.
During those two hours, Cui Ye had examined the machine again. It didn't seem to have a water tank, and while she wasn't sure where the extracted moisture was going, considering it didn't even need a power source, she decided not to question it.
With the Safe House issue resolved, Cui Ye felt a weight lift off her chest. She had been genuinely worried. Now, the only thing left to fret over was the infection. Many people had already seen Healing Potions in their shops today; even someone in the neighborhood group had refreshed one.
However, the five-gold-coin price tag was steep. This was the third day of the apocalypse game, and most people were lucky to have even three coins, let alone five.
But after experiencing yesterday's "income-generating" method, Cui Ye suddenly felt that five coins weren't that hard to come by. The real challenge was luring those water monsters out of the water and onto the shore.
Although the [Water Monster Butcher] achievement increased her movement speed in water by 30%, she wasn't a good swimmer. Even with the buff, she was no match for the monsters in their element.
The [Plushie Collector] was useful, but it was just a tool. Every use consumed durability, and that durability would eventually hit zero. She couldn't rely on a "one-shot" item forever.
She trusted her Talent more than any item. Without the [Friendly Tip]'s timely prompts, she wouldn't have been able to use her tools at the right moment and likely would have been injured.
So, rather than burning through items just to earn coins, it was better to use the [Plushie Collector] as a safety net while she trained her combat skills—especially since she had the speed boosts from her Christmas sock and leopard print thermal leggings.
Decision made. After a failed attempt to move the dehumidifier out of the Safe House, she stood by the window, watching through two layers of glass. She wasn't waiting for the rain to stop, she was waiting for the lightning to vanish.
In all her life, she had never seen red lightning. Since some unknown time, a crimson glow had been pulsing through the heavy clouds, sending thin bolts down with the rain. Usually, a flash would be followed by a roar of thunder, but this dense lightning was oddly silent. It looked nothing like natural electricity.
Cui Ye dug out a power bank to charge her dying phone. The neighborhood group had gone quiet. After the power outage, problems had piled up, including the struggle to keep devices alive. To save battery, all idle chatter had ceased; people only turned their phones on to check for new information.
Though she had been prepared and had fully charged two power banks, they would only provide about four full charges. She tried to search for information on the strange weather, but the signal was so sluggish that every page took ages to load—and even then, they rarely had the answers she needed. Her battery was draining, but she had no other choice.
After browsing weather photos from users across the globe, she reached a conclusion: the weather was the same everywhere. Many were mesmerized by the red lightning; some saw it as an omen, others as divine punishment. One bizarre theory even suggested the red lightning was a portal to another world—that getting struck would transport you to the next life.
Cui Ye: "..."
Protective Shield: Can block a portion of incoming attacks once activated.
Dehumidifier: An intelligent "green" appliance. No plug required, ready for use once switched on. Your best helper for moisture removal.
This was exactly what Cui Ye needed. She let out a sigh of relief after double-checking that there were no Safe House level restrictions on its use. While the Protective Shield looked decent, it had to take a backseat to the dehumidifier.
[Obtained Appliance: Dehumidifier]
Twenty gold coins. Her balance was zeroed out once again, but Cui Ye didn't feel the sting of the loss. She looked at the dehumidifier that had materialized before her—it was a plain, white machine. A quick inspection confirmed it had no power cord or manufacturer logos. It was a standard "off-brand" product, but as long as it worked, she didn't care.
She pressed the switch. The machine hummed to life with a soft whir. Perhaps it was just psychological, but the air already felt a bit drier—though she knew it wouldn't be that effective so quickly.
Two hours later, during her eighth check of the Safe House interface, she finally saw the Indoor Environment status return to "Normal". The "Mildly Damp" debuff had completely vanished. The room was crisp; every trace of invading moisture had been purged by the dehumidifier.
During those two hours, Cui Ye had examined the machine again. It didn't seem to have a water tank, and while she wasn't sure where the extracted moisture was going, considering it didn't even need a power source, she decided not to question it.
With the Safe House issue resolved, Cui Ye felt a weight lift off her chest. She had been genuinely worried. Now, the only thing left to fret over was the infection. Many people had already seen Healing Potions in their shops today; even someone in the neighborhood group had refreshed one.
However, the five-gold-coin price tag was steep. This was the third day of the apocalypse game, and most people were lucky to have even three coins, let alone five.
But after experiencing yesterday's "income-generating" method, Cui Ye suddenly felt that five coins weren't that hard to come by. The real challenge was luring those water monsters out of the water and onto the shore.
Although the [Water Monster Butcher] achievement increased her movement speed in water by 30%, she wasn't a good swimmer. Even with the buff, she was no match for the monsters in their element.
The [Plushie Collector] was useful, but it was just a tool. Every use consumed durability, and that durability would eventually hit zero. She couldn't rely on a "one-shot" item forever.
She trusted her Talent more than any item. Without the [Friendly Tip]'s timely prompts, she wouldn't have been able to use her tools at the right moment and likely would have been injured.
So, rather than burning through items just to earn coins, it was better to use the [Plushie Collector] as a safety net while she trained her combat skills—especially since she had the speed boosts from her Christmas sock and leopard print thermal leggings.
Decision made. After a failed attempt to move the dehumidifier out of the Safe House, she stood by the window, watching through two layers of glass. She wasn't waiting for the rain to stop, she was waiting for the lightning to vanish.
In all her life, she had never seen red lightning. Since some unknown time, a crimson glow had been pulsing through the heavy clouds, sending thin bolts down with the rain. Usually, a flash would be followed by a roar of thunder, but this dense lightning was oddly silent. It looked nothing like natural electricity.
Cui Ye dug out a power bank to charge her dying phone. The neighborhood group had gone quiet. After the power outage, problems had piled up, including the struggle to keep devices alive. To save battery, all idle chatter had ceased; people only turned their phones on to check for new information.
Though she had been prepared and had fully charged two power banks, they would only provide about four full charges. She tried to search for information on the strange weather, but the signal was so sluggish that every page took ages to load—and even then, they rarely had the answers she needed. Her battery was draining, but she had no other choice.
After browsing weather photos from users across the globe, she reached a conclusion: the weather was the same everywhere. Many were mesmerized by the red lightning; some saw it as an omen, others as divine punishment. One bizarre theory even suggested the red lightning was a portal to another world—that getting struck would transport you to the next life.
Cui Ye: "..."
You mean the afterlife? Well, that certainly wouldn't require a ticket from the [Ticket Office].
Since the apocalypse began, nothing good had happened—just one disaster after another. This eerie red lightning only added to the dread.
Cui Ye watched a bolt of red lightning strike the building opposite hers. The building remained unscathed; not even a window shattered. It felt almost like a hollow bluff. Her eyes were growing weary from watching, but [Friendly Tip] hadn't triggered. Resigned, she could only pray things wouldn't get any worse.
The red lightning lasted for about two hours before finally ceasing. During that time, Cui Ye finished her lunch. A small incident occurred in the middle of it: someone knocked on the door of 1501. Because of the "Ghost Knocking" event from two nights ago, Liu Yue was terrified of the sound; she huddled under her covers and refused to come out. Wang Zhiqiu only opened the door after hearing Cui Ye leave her bedroom.
The two women locked eyes and immediately saw the red rashes on each other’s faces. Although Wang Zhiqiu hadn't gone outside, the indoor humidity was not to be underestimated. Cui Ye’s room was on the sunny side and had still grown mold; Wang Zhiqiu, on the south side, was in even worse shape. Even Liu Yue, who had the weakest constitution, was the same. Everyone’s infection level had surpassed 10%.
On the third day of the game, a rash on the face was the norm. It would be weirder not to have one. So, when the door opened to reveal a grandmother and two grandchildren with perfectly clear, clean skin, both Cui Ye and Wang Zhiqiu were stunned.
The woman, in her early sixties with greasy, permed hair, opened her mouth and nearly sent Cui Ye reeling back two miles from the stench.
Before Cui Ye could even ask why she was there, the woman started placing her "order."
"My grandson and granddaughter are hungry. The power is out, so we can't cook. Do you girls have any canned food or bread? Pack some for us. Don't bother with that instant ramen from last time; my grandson doesn't like it and it's not nutritious. There's only four of us—"the old and the small"—so we don't eat much. Just fill this bag up."
Cui Ye looked at the bag in her hand. It was massive—honestly, it was more of a burlap sack. She could have stuffed both grandchildren inside and carried them away. And what did she mean, "the ramen from last time"?
Wang Zhiqiu noticed Cui Ye’s confused look, but she didn't want to say it outright in front of the woman: they were being harassed by a "professional victim". Perhaps because they had given in too easily last time, the woman was now demanding the world. Not only had she brought a giant woven sack, but she was being picky about it, demanding canned meat and bread. Would you even eat compressed biscuits?
In fact, Wang Zhiqiu didn't even want to give them the wrapper of a compressed biscuit. Did this woman think she was stupid? Her son wouldn't listen to advice; the police told him to stay inside, but he insisted on going out and got himself killed. Whose fault was that?
While Wang Zhiqiu was debating how to refuse, the little boy slipped through the crack in the door while no one was looking. He headed straight for Cui Ye’s room, only to find the door locked tight.
Cui Ye had just finished lunch and had left the empty self-heating meal box outside her bedroom door, intending to throw it away later. The boy noticed the packaging and began clamoring for it.
"I’ve seen this! It’s Braised Pork self-heating rice! Grandma, I want this! I haven't had braised pork in forever!"
The little girl standing by the door frame swallowed hard. She looked at her grandmother and her brother but didn't dare speak. Her parents had raised her to be "obedient and sensible"—to not shout or make demands. Besides, ever since Grandpa fell ill, Grandma made all the decisions. Grandma liked her brother and didn't like her, so she had to be even more well-behaved.
Seeing her grandson speak up and seeing Cui Ye and Wang Zhiqiu still standing there like statues, the grandmother changed her tune. Her forceful attitude vanished, replaced by theatrical wailing and tears:
"If my son were still here, how could he let us suffer and starve like this? He was so worried you girls couldn't handle those monsters that he went out specifically to help. He helped, the monster died, but he paid with his life! My daughter-in-law was so grief-stricken she fell ill and was taken to the hospital—she hasn't come back! We only have each other now! But now that we're in trouble, we aren't asking you to go out and scavenge for us; we just want a little food. You can't be so heartless as to watch the four of us starve to death in our own home, can you? Oh, my poor son!"
Cui Ye’s ears were filled with the "poor me" act, but only the last sentence sounded genuine. While she felt for the woman losing her son, she had tried to stop him. He hadn't listened, went downstairs, and got himself killed—and nearly took someone else with him.
The premise was wrong, the process was wrong, and the conclusion was wrong. In short: total bullshit.
Looking at the greedy grandmother and the brat kicking her bedroom door, Cui Ye suddenly felt a strong urge to use her item to turn them both into plushies, stuff them into their own sack, and be done with it once and for all.
The dangerous thought flickered and died. She knew that unless she shut them up permanently, they would keep coming back to harass them, but she felt that such a thought shouldn't have occurred to her. More than the woman’s annoying behavior, the fact that all three of them had perfectly clear faces was what caught her attention.
Cui Ye stared at the grandmother’s wrinkled but fair skin, her mind racing. A Safe House? If they had stayed inside one the whole time, it was possible. But looking at them—the old and the very young—the chances of them being out in the street successfully snatching a Lucky Balloon were slim to none.
The dead man might have had one, but if he did, he wouldn't have died that night.
It wasn't a special constitution; if it were that easy to be immune, it wouldn't be an apocalypse. That left only one answer: one of the four of them had awakened a Talent—and it was a healing type.
Which one was it?
Since the apocalypse began, nothing good had happened—just one disaster after another. This eerie red lightning only added to the dread.
Cui Ye watched a bolt of red lightning strike the building opposite hers. The building remained unscathed; not even a window shattered. It felt almost like a hollow bluff. Her eyes were growing weary from watching, but [Friendly Tip] hadn't triggered. Resigned, she could only pray things wouldn't get any worse.
The red lightning lasted for about two hours before finally ceasing. During that time, Cui Ye finished her lunch. A small incident occurred in the middle of it: someone knocked on the door of 1501. Because of the "Ghost Knocking" event from two nights ago, Liu Yue was terrified of the sound; she huddled under her covers and refused to come out. Wang Zhiqiu only opened the door after hearing Cui Ye leave her bedroom.
The two women locked eyes and immediately saw the red rashes on each other’s faces. Although Wang Zhiqiu hadn't gone outside, the indoor humidity was not to be underestimated. Cui Ye’s room was on the sunny side and had still grown mold; Wang Zhiqiu, on the south side, was in even worse shape. Even Liu Yue, who had the weakest constitution, was the same. Everyone’s infection level had surpassed 10%.
On the third day of the game, a rash on the face was the norm. It would be weirder not to have one. So, when the door opened to reveal a grandmother and two grandchildren with perfectly clear, clean skin, both Cui Ye and Wang Zhiqiu were stunned.
The woman, in her early sixties with greasy, permed hair, opened her mouth and nearly sent Cui Ye reeling back two miles from the stench.
Before Cui Ye could even ask why she was there, the woman started placing her "order."
"My grandson and granddaughter are hungry. The power is out, so we can't cook. Do you girls have any canned food or bread? Pack some for us. Don't bother with that instant ramen from last time; my grandson doesn't like it and it's not nutritious. There's only four of us—"the old and the small"—so we don't eat much. Just fill this bag up."
Cui Ye looked at the bag in her hand. It was massive—honestly, it was more of a burlap sack. She could have stuffed both grandchildren inside and carried them away. And what did she mean, "the ramen from last time"?
Wang Zhiqiu noticed Cui Ye’s confused look, but she didn't want to say it outright in front of the woman: they were being harassed by a "professional victim". Perhaps because they had given in too easily last time, the woman was now demanding the world. Not only had she brought a giant woven sack, but she was being picky about it, demanding canned meat and bread. Would you even eat compressed biscuits?
In fact, Wang Zhiqiu didn't even want to give them the wrapper of a compressed biscuit. Did this woman think she was stupid? Her son wouldn't listen to advice; the police told him to stay inside, but he insisted on going out and got himself killed. Whose fault was that?
While Wang Zhiqiu was debating how to refuse, the little boy slipped through the crack in the door while no one was looking. He headed straight for Cui Ye’s room, only to find the door locked tight.
Cui Ye had just finished lunch and had left the empty self-heating meal box outside her bedroom door, intending to throw it away later. The boy noticed the packaging and began clamoring for it.
"I’ve seen this! It’s Braised Pork self-heating rice! Grandma, I want this! I haven't had braised pork in forever!"
The little girl standing by the door frame swallowed hard. She looked at her grandmother and her brother but didn't dare speak. Her parents had raised her to be "obedient and sensible"—to not shout or make demands. Besides, ever since Grandpa fell ill, Grandma made all the decisions. Grandma liked her brother and didn't like her, so she had to be even more well-behaved.
Seeing her grandson speak up and seeing Cui Ye and Wang Zhiqiu still standing there like statues, the grandmother changed her tune. Her forceful attitude vanished, replaced by theatrical wailing and tears:
"If my son were still here, how could he let us suffer and starve like this? He was so worried you girls couldn't handle those monsters that he went out specifically to help. He helped, the monster died, but he paid with his life! My daughter-in-law was so grief-stricken she fell ill and was taken to the hospital—she hasn't come back! We only have each other now! But now that we're in trouble, we aren't asking you to go out and scavenge for us; we just want a little food. You can't be so heartless as to watch the four of us starve to death in our own home, can you? Oh, my poor son!"
Cui Ye’s ears were filled with the "poor me" act, but only the last sentence sounded genuine. While she felt for the woman losing her son, she had tried to stop him. He hadn't listened, went downstairs, and got himself killed—and nearly took someone else with him.
The premise was wrong, the process was wrong, and the conclusion was wrong. In short: total bullshit.
Looking at the greedy grandmother and the brat kicking her bedroom door, Cui Ye suddenly felt a strong urge to use her item to turn them both into plushies, stuff them into their own sack, and be done with it once and for all.
The dangerous thought flickered and died. She knew that unless she shut them up permanently, they would keep coming back to harass them, but she felt that such a thought shouldn't have occurred to her. More than the woman’s annoying behavior, the fact that all three of them had perfectly clear faces was what caught her attention.
Cui Ye stared at the grandmother’s wrinkled but fair skin, her mind racing. A Safe House? If they had stayed inside one the whole time, it was possible. But looking at them—the old and the very young—the chances of them being out in the street successfully snatching a Lucky Balloon were slim to none.
The dead man might have had one, but if he did, he wouldn't have died that night.
It wasn't a special constitution; if it were that easy to be immune, it wouldn't be an apocalypse. That left only one answer: one of the four of them had awakened a Talent—and it was a healing type.
Which one was it?
Chapter Notes:
- As suggested by my proofreader, I’ll be using the term [Friendly Tip] instead of [Friendly Hint], as it will make more sense in later chapters. I’ve edited the previous chapters to make the change seamless.
- "the old and the small" ("老的老，小的的小"): It is used to describe a household or group that consists primarily of vulnerable people—specifically the elderly and young children—without enough able-bodied adults to support or protect them.
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