The Walk-in Closet Safehouse CH22
Chapter 22: Method-Acting Villain
Before the apocalypse, Zhao Guangcai’s life had been "with the wind and with the water"—completely smooth sailing. He never had to clock in to get perfect attendance, and he regularly collected a paycheck without performing a single shred of actual work. With an uncle sitting on the company's board of directors, his future path to corporate promotion was practically an unobstructed highway.
Even his direct superior, Cao Zhongliang, had to suck up to him constantly. Zhao Guangcai had never once regarded the man as his equal, yet now, the tables had turned so completely that the old bastard was walking all over him. Zhao Guangcai was the one risking life and limb to slaughter monsters and complete system quests, only for half of his hard-earned gold coins to be pocketed by the man surnamed Cao. If he refused, Cao Zhongliang threatened to instantly revoke his tenant permissions, locking him out of the Safe House and cutting him off from the food cache stored in the basement.
Like "leak to be cut down", it was a pitiful existence. He worked himself to the bone, his entire body covered in wounds, and practically every coin he earned had to be funneled into buying [Healing Potions]. He had slashed at monsters so relentlessly that his blade was thoroughly rusted, while Cao Zhongliang—relying entirely on the fact that he was the one bound to the Safe House—hunkered down in comfort to eat and drink his fill. The man used Zhao Guangcai's blood money to purchase defense items, insulating himself with layers of armor from head to toe, leaving Zhao Guangcai zero openings to launch an assassination.
But right now, an opportunity "to turn his body over" and flip the script was staring him dead in the face. If he missed his chance today, there was no telling how long he would have to endure this grueling torment. Cao Zhongliang’s stern warnings had been cast to the absolute back of his mind.
Zhao Guangcai’s brain was completely flooded with grand fantasies of his future domain. He advanced toward the exit with the stolen system item, and up until the very moment he was about to step out, not a single soul appeared to notice a thing. Before crossing the threshold, he actually felt a pang of regret for not grabbing an extra item or two. Yet, just as he believed the heist was a flawless success, he discovered that the shop door wouldn't budge a single millimeter.
The monkey plushie suspended above the entrance abruptly opened its maw: "Heh-heh-heh! Thief detected! Thief detected!"
The ear-piercing, eerie laughter was laced with an unvarnished layer of schadenfreude, causing Zhao Guangcai—who had been entirely immersed in his delusions—to instantly freeze rigid on the spot.
The plush toy employees standing before the counter materialized behind him out of thin air. Hands stitched from coarse cotton cloth clamped down hard on his shoulders. Even though he could distinctly feel the soft, pillowy texture pressing into his flesh, the moment he attempted to struggle, he discovered his body completely refused to obey.
Scared entirely out of his wits, Zhao Guangcai didn't dare to steal a single glance behind him. His eyes locked dead onto Cao Zhongliang, his voice trembling violently as he squeezed out a desperate plea for salvation: "Save... save me... use an item, quick, use an item... do it, hurry..."
The choked plea was pushed from his throat like a raspy gasp of trapped air. His entire frame rattled like a sieve, and his eyes bulged to a horrifying degree. Unfortunately, he had clearly targeted the wrong savior.
Watching Zhao Guangcai physically warp and shrink into a grotesque shape, Cao Zhongliang retreated several paces in sheer terror, petrified that a single drop of whatever was happening might splash onto him. He instantly opened his mouth to sever all connections: "I didn't steal anything! This was entirely his own rogue decision—it has absolutely nothing to do with me!"
His gold coins were exceptionally precious; how could he possibly waste a hard-earned defensive item on a certified moron? It was a bit of a shame, though. While Zhao Guangcai possessed zero brains, he had still been a highly useful tool. Now that the idiot was dead, he would have to hunt down a brand-new tenant to farm gold coins for him.
Under the unblinking gazes of everyone in the room, Zhao Guangcai transformed from a living, breathing human into a plush rat toy. His long, slender tail even twitched slightly the moment he hit the floorboards. Cui Ye watched the transformation, uncertain whether it was more tragic to be imprisoned alive inside a stuffed animal or to be executed outright on the spot.
This time, there were zero military personnel present to collect and transport the anomaly. Instead, one of the plush employees bent down, scooped up the toy, and tossed it into a weathered wooden crate resting behind the checkout counter. As the lid swung open and shut, Cui Ye caught a fleeting glimpse of several other stuffed toys lying inside. It was entirely expected; the operational efficiency of this [Random Shop] mirrored that of a normal 24H convenience store.
However, when she had first discovered the establishment, the digital countdown suspended above the storefront already displayed less than sixty minutes remaining. It stood to reason that numerous waves of customers had cycled through before her arrival, and a "discourteous" customer like Zhao Guangcai was bound to not be an isolated incident.
She wondered briefly whether being transformed into a plush toy counted as a specific tier of system debuff. If Grandma Zhao’s talent continued to undergo further upgrades, would she eventually be capable of cultivating a pill that could reverse a plush state? Or perhaps there was a highly specific cleansing item out there that could restore a victim's original human form. The talents of players and the items of the system were endlessly bizarre; as long as a person didn't die outright, a solution could always be found sooner or later. Alternatively, one could simply march straight to that Mr. Rabbit...
Her train of thought was drifting too far. Cui Ye reeled her thoughts back in, standing before the checkout counter as she fished out a hefty sum of 32 gold coins. The shimmering golden pile caused her chest to throb with fiscal agony.
The plush employee swept up the coins and handed her a slip of... wait, a receipt?
Huh? Was the system implying she should submit this for corporate reimbursement? To whom? Mr. Rabbit?
The second plush employee opened its mouth to clarify: "This is a complimentary lottery scratch-card rewarded for meeting our purchase threshold. Simply scratch away the coating for a chance to win a massive windfall of ninety-nine gold coins!"
Cui Ye: 'You delivering that pitch with a completely deadpan expression makes it infinitely more terrifying, okay?'
"Oh, so you actually possess the capacity for human speech." Were those two crude, jagged lines of yarn stitching supposed to be a mouth this whole time?
As their eyes locked in a tense staredown, Cui Ye let out a slight cough, smoothly changing the subject: "A chance to win ninety-nine coins, huh? The baseline guarantee isn't going to be a 'Thank You for Your Patronage' dud, right?"
The two plush employees: Stare—
The other three customers inside the shop: Can someone please make this psycho shut up?!
"Not bad, two gold coins." Cui Ye looked down at the scratched card and let out a sigh of relief. Her standards weren't high; as long as it wasn't a total dud, she could accept the outcome.
As she pocketed the two gold coins slid across the counter, the shop door swung open automatically, signaling that she was free to beat a swift retreat—there were still other people waiting in line behind her.
Cui Ye unfurled her umbrella and marched out into the downpour. By her calculations, purchasing this system item had only set her back thirty gold coins. Yet, she felt a vague inkling that something about the transaction was slightly off. She didn't dwell on it.
Before the monkey plushie could even finish broadcasting its automated "Thank you for your patronage! Please visit us again!" her silhouette had already dissolved into the sheets of rain. The two men and one woman who witnessed her departure widened their eyes in absolute shock.
The girl nudged her boyfriend’s shoulder: "Did that person just straight-up fly?!"
The young man nodded in silence, internally thanking his lucky stars. Although that freak possessed an abominable aesthetic taste and a highly punchable speaking style, her temperament seemed reasonably stable; she hadn't stooped to his girlfriend's level to teach her a lesson.
Turning back to the business at hand, he stepped forward to settle up. With the two gold coins from the previous customer's scratch-card fresh in his mind, he gripped the items they had selected—a bow and a sword, which totaled exactly thirty gold coins.
The man handed over the coins, his heart pounding with anticipation for the upcoming scratch-card phase. His girlfriend’s luck was naturally a tier higher than his own, so he would let her handle the scratching. They didn't even need the full ninety-nine coins; as long as they beat the amount that psycho just won, it would be a total victory. (Cui Ye: ???)
Yet, he remained rooted to the spot as the seconds ticked by, without seeing a single scratch-card manifest. Not daring to look the plush employee dead in the eyes, the young man lowered his head slightly and spoke with extreme caution: "Excuse me... did we fail to hit the purchase threshold?"
Spending thresholds were typically rounded numbers, right? Could they really be short by exactly two gold coins?
The employee responsible for collecting the funds appeared to make an attempt at raising an eyebrow, but the facial anatomy of a stuffed toy simply couldn't execute such a nuanced human gesture: "Only internal staff members are eligible to participate in threshold promotional events."
The remaining text went unsaid, but the man understood the underlying implication perfectly. Neither he nor his girlfriend belonged to the corporate internal staff, so they could completely scrub any fantasies of promotional rewards from their minds.
The pair turned away in bitter disappointment and departed. Cao Zhongliang, who followed immediately behind them, caught the brief dialogue cleanly. He instantly reclassified Cui Ye from a "dangerous individual" to a "complete monster who shouldn't be trifled with," effectively revoking her human status altogether in his mind.
"The voice and body shape match perfectly... is it just a sheer coincidence? Then again, that girl was probably dead and buried long ago."
Meanwhile, Cui Ye, who was currently scouting out a location to pitch camp for the night, remained entirely oblivious to the fact that she had already been written off as a corpse. She located an apartment complex, slipping through a jagged hole where a top-floor window had shattered. The interior of the flat had been completely ransacked, and faint, dried streaks of blood stained a rain-soaked mattress. It required zero imagination to deduce what had transpired here.
She had witnessed far too many identical scenes along her journey, and her internal state no longer registered a single ripple of emotion. Right now, she simply required a reasonably sanitary room to get sorted out. Tonight, she would have to pull an intense overtime shift to farm the gold coins required for her transit ticket. She could only pray that the train tickets hadn't been hijacked by scalpers charging exorbitant prices; she truly didn't want to step onto that train carrying a flat zero balance.
* * *
The thirteenth day of the apocalypse.
Upon entering Qinghe Community, Cui Ye had already shed her outdoor wilderness-farming gear. She changed back into a standard black raincoat, slipped on her ski goggles, packed a random assortment of items into her waterproof backpack, and vaulted down from the window.
At this moment, a massive, snaking queue had already formed beneath the structures of Building 5. Blending into the crowd, her presence was entirely inconspicuous. Furthermore, because she was traveling exceptionally light, she skipped the tedious, argumentative weight-limit clearance phase and smoothly boarded the second batch of speedboats.
The edges of the water route were heavily dusted with a thick layer of primrose-yellow powder. Although she possessed zero knowledge regarding its chemical properties, very few water monsters materialized along the way. Even if an anomaly did surface, it was instantly sniped and executed by the escorting military personnel.
By all rights, a commotion of this magnitude should have triggered a massive swarm of local water monsters to launch an attack on the fleet. Yet, this journey—which took just under thirty minutes—progressed far more smoothly than anyone had calculated. That primrose powder had clearly earned the crowning merit, though she couldn't tell whether it was a high-tier system item or the product of a player's awakened talent.
The fleet entered through the south gate of the campus, sailing directly into the residential sector before coming to a halt alongside Dormitory Building 11. Cui Ye followed the crowd to disembark, everyone queuing up systematically to filter through a seventh-floor window into the central corridor. By now, the hallway was completely choked with a sea of people. Everyone was packed into lines to fill out personal data forms, with the system assigning exactly six individuals to a single dormitory room.
Some people didn't wish to live in co-ed housing; some refused to be separated from their blood relatives; others attempted to shell out gold coins to secure a private single room. Every single request was shot down flatly by the administrative staff. A few individuals grew disgruntled and attempted to stir up a riot, but the moment the penalty of "permanent expulsion from the shelter" echoed out, they instantly sealed their mouths shut.
The corridor welcomed a rare, fleeting pocket of tranquility, but the peace was rapidly shattered.
"Why on earth does that person get to occupy a private single room?!"
"Stop whining. That person clearly has a 'Talent'. One of my primary school classmates awakened a Talent too, and they've already been recruited by the higher-ups, bringing their entire family along..."
"Man, even if you don't have a Safe House, awakening a talent is still a total jackpot..."
"What kind of delusions are you cooking up in broad daylight?"
Bored out of her mind by the queue, Cui Ye was utilizing her conscious awareness to organize the garments inside her Walk-in Closet, categorizing them systematically by color palette. She paid no attention at first to the surrounding gossip, until a sharp, eye-searing burst of pristine white light erupted from the very front of the line. Snow-white feathers drifted down lazily from the ceiling, and every single survivor felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through their bodies, completely purging the dampness clinging to their skin.
Cui Ye fixed her eyes on the woman standing at the absolute front of the line. The figure cradled an infant in her arms, a pair of massive wings protruding from her back as an aura of holy light enveloped her entire form. A few elderly survivors collapsed to their knees the moment they witnessed the spectacle, pressing their palms together in desperate prayer. The woman was just a single floating halo away from pulling off a flawless angel cosplay.
If the woman’s face didn't sport a neon-bright [Villain] prompt, Cui Ye might have appreciated the visual aesthetics for a few moments longer. As the queue advanced and the distance narrowed, the text hovering over the figure's face faded away, allowing Cui Ye to finally get a clear look at her features.
Well, what do you know—the face of an acquaintance.
Chapter Notes:
Before the apocalypse, Zhao Guangcai’s life had been "with the wind and with the water"—completely smooth sailing. He never had to clock in to get perfect attendance, and he regularly collected a paycheck without performing a single shred of actual work. With an uncle sitting on the company's board of directors, his future path to corporate promotion was practically an unobstructed highway.
Even his direct superior, Cao Zhongliang, had to suck up to him constantly. Zhao Guangcai had never once regarded the man as his equal, yet now, the tables had turned so completely that the old bastard was walking all over him. Zhao Guangcai was the one risking life and limb to slaughter monsters and complete system quests, only for half of his hard-earned gold coins to be pocketed by the man surnamed Cao. If he refused, Cao Zhongliang threatened to instantly revoke his tenant permissions, locking him out of the Safe House and cutting him off from the food cache stored in the basement.
Like "leak to be cut down", it was a pitiful existence. He worked himself to the bone, his entire body covered in wounds, and practically every coin he earned had to be funneled into buying [Healing Potions]. He had slashed at monsters so relentlessly that his blade was thoroughly rusted, while Cao Zhongliang—relying entirely on the fact that he was the one bound to the Safe House—hunkered down in comfort to eat and drink his fill. The man used Zhao Guangcai's blood money to purchase defense items, insulating himself with layers of armor from head to toe, leaving Zhao Guangcai zero openings to launch an assassination.
But right now, an opportunity "to turn his body over" and flip the script was staring him dead in the face. If he missed his chance today, there was no telling how long he would have to endure this grueling torment. Cao Zhongliang’s stern warnings had been cast to the absolute back of his mind.
Zhao Guangcai’s brain was completely flooded with grand fantasies of his future domain. He advanced toward the exit with the stolen system item, and up until the very moment he was about to step out, not a single soul appeared to notice a thing. Before crossing the threshold, he actually felt a pang of regret for not grabbing an extra item or two. Yet, just as he believed the heist was a flawless success, he discovered that the shop door wouldn't budge a single millimeter.
The monkey plushie suspended above the entrance abruptly opened its maw: "Heh-heh-heh! Thief detected! Thief detected!"
The ear-piercing, eerie laughter was laced with an unvarnished layer of schadenfreude, causing Zhao Guangcai—who had been entirely immersed in his delusions—to instantly freeze rigid on the spot.
The plush toy employees standing before the counter materialized behind him out of thin air. Hands stitched from coarse cotton cloth clamped down hard on his shoulders. Even though he could distinctly feel the soft, pillowy texture pressing into his flesh, the moment he attempted to struggle, he discovered his body completely refused to obey.
Scared entirely out of his wits, Zhao Guangcai didn't dare to steal a single glance behind him. His eyes locked dead onto Cao Zhongliang, his voice trembling violently as he squeezed out a desperate plea for salvation: "Save... save me... use an item, quick, use an item... do it, hurry..."
The choked plea was pushed from his throat like a raspy gasp of trapped air. His entire frame rattled like a sieve, and his eyes bulged to a horrifying degree. Unfortunately, he had clearly targeted the wrong savior.
Watching Zhao Guangcai physically warp and shrink into a grotesque shape, Cao Zhongliang retreated several paces in sheer terror, petrified that a single drop of whatever was happening might splash onto him. He instantly opened his mouth to sever all connections: "I didn't steal anything! This was entirely his own rogue decision—it has absolutely nothing to do with me!"
His gold coins were exceptionally precious; how could he possibly waste a hard-earned defensive item on a certified moron? It was a bit of a shame, though. While Zhao Guangcai possessed zero brains, he had still been a highly useful tool. Now that the idiot was dead, he would have to hunt down a brand-new tenant to farm gold coins for him.
Under the unblinking gazes of everyone in the room, Zhao Guangcai transformed from a living, breathing human into a plush rat toy. His long, slender tail even twitched slightly the moment he hit the floorboards. Cui Ye watched the transformation, uncertain whether it was more tragic to be imprisoned alive inside a stuffed animal or to be executed outright on the spot.
This time, there were zero military personnel present to collect and transport the anomaly. Instead, one of the plush employees bent down, scooped up the toy, and tossed it into a weathered wooden crate resting behind the checkout counter. As the lid swung open and shut, Cui Ye caught a fleeting glimpse of several other stuffed toys lying inside. It was entirely expected; the operational efficiency of this [Random Shop] mirrored that of a normal 24H convenience store.
However, when she had first discovered the establishment, the digital countdown suspended above the storefront already displayed less than sixty minutes remaining. It stood to reason that numerous waves of customers had cycled through before her arrival, and a "discourteous" customer like Zhao Guangcai was bound to not be an isolated incident.
She wondered briefly whether being transformed into a plush toy counted as a specific tier of system debuff. If Grandma Zhao’s talent continued to undergo further upgrades, would she eventually be capable of cultivating a pill that could reverse a plush state? Or perhaps there was a highly specific cleansing item out there that could restore a victim's original human form. The talents of players and the items of the system were endlessly bizarre; as long as a person didn't die outright, a solution could always be found sooner or later. Alternatively, one could simply march straight to that Mr. Rabbit...
Her train of thought was drifting too far. Cui Ye reeled her thoughts back in, standing before the checkout counter as she fished out a hefty sum of 32 gold coins. The shimmering golden pile caused her chest to throb with fiscal agony.
The plush employee swept up the coins and handed her a slip of... wait, a receipt?
Huh? Was the system implying she should submit this for corporate reimbursement? To whom? Mr. Rabbit?
The second plush employee opened its mouth to clarify: "This is a complimentary lottery scratch-card rewarded for meeting our purchase threshold. Simply scratch away the coating for a chance to win a massive windfall of ninety-nine gold coins!"
Cui Ye: 'You delivering that pitch with a completely deadpan expression makes it infinitely more terrifying, okay?'
"Oh, so you actually possess the capacity for human speech." Were those two crude, jagged lines of yarn stitching supposed to be a mouth this whole time?
As their eyes locked in a tense staredown, Cui Ye let out a slight cough, smoothly changing the subject: "A chance to win ninety-nine coins, huh? The baseline guarantee isn't going to be a 'Thank You for Your Patronage' dud, right?"
The two plush employees: Stare—
The other three customers inside the shop: Can someone please make this psycho shut up?!
"Not bad, two gold coins." Cui Ye looked down at the scratched card and let out a sigh of relief. Her standards weren't high; as long as it wasn't a total dud, she could accept the outcome.
As she pocketed the two gold coins slid across the counter, the shop door swung open automatically, signaling that she was free to beat a swift retreat—there were still other people waiting in line behind her.
Cui Ye unfurled her umbrella and marched out into the downpour. By her calculations, purchasing this system item had only set her back thirty gold coins. Yet, she felt a vague inkling that something about the transaction was slightly off. She didn't dwell on it.
Before the monkey plushie could even finish broadcasting its automated "Thank you for your patronage! Please visit us again!" her silhouette had already dissolved into the sheets of rain. The two men and one woman who witnessed her departure widened their eyes in absolute shock.
The girl nudged her boyfriend’s shoulder: "Did that person just straight-up fly?!"
The young man nodded in silence, internally thanking his lucky stars. Although that freak possessed an abominable aesthetic taste and a highly punchable speaking style, her temperament seemed reasonably stable; she hadn't stooped to his girlfriend's level to teach her a lesson.
Turning back to the business at hand, he stepped forward to settle up. With the two gold coins from the previous customer's scratch-card fresh in his mind, he gripped the items they had selected—a bow and a sword, which totaled exactly thirty gold coins.
The man handed over the coins, his heart pounding with anticipation for the upcoming scratch-card phase. His girlfriend’s luck was naturally a tier higher than his own, so he would let her handle the scratching. They didn't even need the full ninety-nine coins; as long as they beat the amount that psycho just won, it would be a total victory. (Cui Ye: ???)
Yet, he remained rooted to the spot as the seconds ticked by, without seeing a single scratch-card manifest. Not daring to look the plush employee dead in the eyes, the young man lowered his head slightly and spoke with extreme caution: "Excuse me... did we fail to hit the purchase threshold?"
Spending thresholds were typically rounded numbers, right? Could they really be short by exactly two gold coins?
The employee responsible for collecting the funds appeared to make an attempt at raising an eyebrow, but the facial anatomy of a stuffed toy simply couldn't execute such a nuanced human gesture: "Only internal staff members are eligible to participate in threshold promotional events."
The remaining text went unsaid, but the man understood the underlying implication perfectly. Neither he nor his girlfriend belonged to the corporate internal staff, so they could completely scrub any fantasies of promotional rewards from their minds.
The pair turned away in bitter disappointment and departed. Cao Zhongliang, who followed immediately behind them, caught the brief dialogue cleanly. He instantly reclassified Cui Ye from a "dangerous individual" to a "complete monster who shouldn't be trifled with," effectively revoking her human status altogether in his mind.
"The voice and body shape match perfectly... is it just a sheer coincidence? Then again, that girl was probably dead and buried long ago."
Meanwhile, Cui Ye, who was currently scouting out a location to pitch camp for the night, remained entirely oblivious to the fact that she had already been written off as a corpse. She located an apartment complex, slipping through a jagged hole where a top-floor window had shattered. The interior of the flat had been completely ransacked, and faint, dried streaks of blood stained a rain-soaked mattress. It required zero imagination to deduce what had transpired here.
She had witnessed far too many identical scenes along her journey, and her internal state no longer registered a single ripple of emotion. Right now, she simply required a reasonably sanitary room to get sorted out. Tonight, she would have to pull an intense overtime shift to farm the gold coins required for her transit ticket. She could only pray that the train tickets hadn't been hijacked by scalpers charging exorbitant prices; she truly didn't want to step onto that train carrying a flat zero balance.
* * *
The thirteenth day of the apocalypse.
Upon entering Qinghe Community, Cui Ye had already shed her outdoor wilderness-farming gear. She changed back into a standard black raincoat, slipped on her ski goggles, packed a random assortment of items into her waterproof backpack, and vaulted down from the window.
At this moment, a massive, snaking queue had already formed beneath the structures of Building 5. Blending into the crowd, her presence was entirely inconspicuous. Furthermore, because she was traveling exceptionally light, she skipped the tedious, argumentative weight-limit clearance phase and smoothly boarded the second batch of speedboats.
The edges of the water route were heavily dusted with a thick layer of primrose-yellow powder. Although she possessed zero knowledge regarding its chemical properties, very few water monsters materialized along the way. Even if an anomaly did surface, it was instantly sniped and executed by the escorting military personnel.
By all rights, a commotion of this magnitude should have triggered a massive swarm of local water monsters to launch an attack on the fleet. Yet, this journey—which took just under thirty minutes—progressed far more smoothly than anyone had calculated. That primrose powder had clearly earned the crowning merit, though she couldn't tell whether it was a high-tier system item or the product of a player's awakened talent.
The fleet entered through the south gate of the campus, sailing directly into the residential sector before coming to a halt alongside Dormitory Building 11. Cui Ye followed the crowd to disembark, everyone queuing up systematically to filter through a seventh-floor window into the central corridor. By now, the hallway was completely choked with a sea of people. Everyone was packed into lines to fill out personal data forms, with the system assigning exactly six individuals to a single dormitory room.
Some people didn't wish to live in co-ed housing; some refused to be separated from their blood relatives; others attempted to shell out gold coins to secure a private single room. Every single request was shot down flatly by the administrative staff. A few individuals grew disgruntled and attempted to stir up a riot, but the moment the penalty of "permanent expulsion from the shelter" echoed out, they instantly sealed their mouths shut.
The corridor welcomed a rare, fleeting pocket of tranquility, but the peace was rapidly shattered.
"Why on earth does that person get to occupy a private single room?!"
"Stop whining. That person clearly has a 'Talent'. One of my primary school classmates awakened a Talent too, and they've already been recruited by the higher-ups, bringing their entire family along..."
"Man, even if you don't have a Safe House, awakening a talent is still a total jackpot..."
"What kind of delusions are you cooking up in broad daylight?"
Bored out of her mind by the queue, Cui Ye was utilizing her conscious awareness to organize the garments inside her Walk-in Closet, categorizing them systematically by color palette. She paid no attention at first to the surrounding gossip, until a sharp, eye-searing burst of pristine white light erupted from the very front of the line. Snow-white feathers drifted down lazily from the ceiling, and every single survivor felt a sudden surge of warmth coursing through their bodies, completely purging the dampness clinging to their skin.
Cui Ye fixed her eyes on the woman standing at the absolute front of the line. The figure cradled an infant in her arms, a pair of massive wings protruding from her back as an aura of holy light enveloped her entire form. A few elderly survivors collapsed to their knees the moment they witnessed the spectacle, pressing their palms together in desperate prayer. The woman was just a single floating halo away from pulling off a flawless angel cosplay.
If the woman’s face didn't sport a neon-bright [Villain] prompt, Cui Ye might have appreciated the visual aesthetics for a few moments longer. As the queue advanced and the distance narrowed, the text hovering over the figure's face faded away, allowing Cui Ye to finally get a clear look at her features.
Well, what do you know—the face of an acquaintance.
Chapter Notes:
- "With the wind and with the water." 顺风顺水: A traditional Chinese idiom meaning everything goes perfectly smoothly without any friction or obstacles.
- "Cutting chives/leeks" 零钱/金币被“割韭菜”: A massive Chinese internet slang term used in finance, gaming, and retail. It refers to companies or systems mercilessly squeezing money out of powerless consumers/players. Just like chives, the consumers grow back, only to be cut (milked for money) again.
- "To turn one's body over" 翻身 : A political and social slang term meaning to liberate oneself, overthrow an oppressor, or completely reverse a low social status.
- "Thank you for your patronage." 谢谢惠顾: The standard message printed on lottery scratch-cards, bottle caps, or promotional draws in China when you win absolutely nothing. It is the universal symbol of a failed gamble. For western readers, it is highly similar to the "Better Luck Next Time" or blank scratch-off results.
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