The Walk-in Closet Safehouse CH23 P2

 Chapter 23: Ticket Office No. 612 (Part 2)

Cui Ye remained entirely oblivious to the specific internal drama unfolding inside the shelter. However, regardless of its actual impact, it didn't disrupt her satisfaction with placing her "wake-up alarm" right on their doorstep.

[Crying Cicada: Enters stealth mode automatically upon placement. Capable of providing a mandatory wake-up service within a 24-hour window. Features three adjustable volume tiers.]

Cui Ye had naturally cranked it to the absolute maximum, and the results were spectacularly evident—the entire floor had been pulled from their slumber. It only cost a single gold coin; a flawless balance of high utility and low cost. She would absolutely buy another one next time.

The rain outside persisted, but fortunately, no red lightning manifested in the sky; otherwise, floating through the air with an umbrella would be a literal invitation to get struck. As her vantage point shifted higher, she captured a clear view of Gongze University’s entire layout. Sweeping her gaze across the perimeter, she rapidly locked onto the academic zone a short distance away. Though separated by a dense curtain of rain, she could still faintly discern various types of Safe Houses anchored atop the roofs of the teaching blocks.

The sole structure without a single Safe House on it was the library, situated at the dead center of the campus. It took zero deduction to figure out where the [Ticket Office] was.

Without a shred of hesitation, Cui Ye steered her umbrella through the torrential downpour toward the library.

The Gongze University library had been constructed ages ago and had never undergone renovation. At this moment, it was so thoroughly submerged by the floodwaters that only its roof peeked above the surface. From a distance, the roof appeared completely bare, yet the exact second her shoes touched the concrete, a coffee shop materialized out of thin air.

[Congratulations to Player Cui Ye for discovering the Ticket Office.]

The System notification materialized, confirming she hadn't come to the wrong coordinates. After a few seconds of deliberation, she pushed the glass door open. A dense wave of sugary sweetness blended with the bitter aroma of roasted coffee surged over her, delivering an instant jolt to her system. Don't misunderstand—as a former corporate slave, she had long since developed a complete immunity to caffeine. The element that truly jolted her was the absolute ocean of crimson exclamation marks filling her vision.

The moment she stepped across the threshold, every single entity inside the establishment locked their eyes onto her in unison. There were uniform-clad waitstaff, players dressed in a bizarre assortment of gear, and stuffed plushies perched on every surface. The dense cluster of crimson markers formed a continuous, unbroken sheet. Scanning the entire floor, there were practically zero targets she actually had the stats to defeat—excluding the dead bodies currently lining the floorboards, of course.

Cui Ye carefully mapped out her surroundings, noticing that every single customer occupying a seat had ordered either a cup of coffee or a dessert. Consequently, she located an unoccupied table and took a seat. A waiter approached shortly after, handing her a menu.

The waiter appeared completely indistinguishable from an ordinary human, but the menu held out was highly peculiar. It featured exactly three items:

Black Coffee — 20 Gold Coins / cup
Éclair — 50 Gold Coins / piece
Mille-Feuille — 100 Gold Coins / piece

Subtracting the three gold coins she had spent earlier at the game shop to purchase the [Crying Cicada] and the [Food Voucher], she currently held exactly 50 gold coins in her inventory. While she didn't have enough to splurge on the top-tier Mille-Feuille, it was more than enough to purchase the first two listings.

The interior of the coffee shop was locked in a dead silence; not even the ambient sound of chewing or drinking could be heard. No explicit rules were posted on the tables or walls, but the absence of text didn't mean there were no rules.

Cui Ye stole a glance at the waiter hovering by her side. Noting that the man didn't say a word, place an hourglass on the table, or pull out a pocket watch to track the time, her anxiety eased slightly.

She didn't rush to place her order. Instead, she turned her head to scan the room, rapidly locking her focus onto the customers scattered across the premises, whether they were dead or alive entirely unclear. Some were slumped face-down over their tables, some were collapsed straight onto the floorboards, and a few were even piled near the entrance—she had almost stepped right on one when she walked in. Why on earth had these individuals dropped?

If she wished to avoid sharing their fate, she had to systematically avoid the mistakes they had made. Filtering every scrap of data through her brain from the moment she discovered the ticket office, she rapidly extracted the core keywords: Coffee Shop and Stuffed Toy Plushies.

A coffee shop's occupants required an active purchase; sitting in a seat without the funds to actually order meant you weren't a customer—it was classified as a violation.

A coffee shop required absolute tranquility; raising your voice to cause a commotion was classified as a violation.

As for who had authored these twin mandates, it was naturally Mr. Rabbit—the entity who had once granted her a system favor, the ticket collector of this server, and the overarching owner of the [Random Shop].

The ticket office she currently occupied was labeled as No. 612. There was no telling how many identical ticket hubs existed across the map. The realization that a single entity simultaneously governed all these branches and retail stores offered a staggering glimpse into Mr. Rabbit’s true power level.

Looking back at the time she had used the [Receiver] to relentlessly harass him, the fact that Mr. Rabbit hadn't severed the phone line or stepped through to strangle her was a testament to his immense magnanimity. Ignorance truly bred audacity. Suddenly, she felt that being slapped with a harassment conviction and fined a mere five gold coins was an absolute bargain.

The hollowed-out Qiu Ke, who had lost his internal organs and facial features: '???' Am I built like someone who can't afford a fine?

Cui Ye traced the black rabbit stud gracing her left earlobe. Looking down at the menu before her, she didn't instantly make her selection. Instead, she slipped out a single gold coin and slid it directly onto the paper.

The waiter standing beside her locked eyes with her, maintaining his plastic, professional smile. He didn't reach down to touch the coin, nor did he collect the menu.

Sinking into a brief silence, Cui Ye fished out a second gold coin and stacked it on top. The man remained entirely unmoved. Still not enough? Then she would add more.

She popped out gold coins one by one, looking exceptionally stingy. It wasn't until the coin count resting on the menu hit exactly five that the waiter finally deigned to sweep them up. He extended a single finger. Under her watch, his originally rounded, smooth fingernail elongated and warped, its sharp tip mimicking the stinger of a toxic wasp as it jabbed a single word on the menu—"cup".

Cui Ye’s cheek twitched slightly as the crimson light of [Friendly Tip] strobed continuously above her head. There really wasn't any need to point it out so aggressively. Or was that five-coin tip inclusive of a performance fee?

In reality, she had noticed it the absolute moment she reviewed the listings. A standard menu typically didn't explicitly specify the container. The fact that it was listed here meant it mattered; it had to be a highly specific hint, though she hadn't been entirely certain until now.

If her financial reserves were abundant, she could have simply ordered a double portion; even if her hypothesis was flawed, it wouldn't impact her survival. Unfortunately, she was broke and lacked the capital to run an expensive trial-and-error process.

She decisively extracted forty gold coins, checking the box for two cups of Black Coffee.

Having received a respectable tip, the corporate smile plastered across the waiter's face became a notch more genuine—especially when he strutted past his colleagues to flaunt it.

The remaining players who witnessed the entire transaction: “...” Damn it! That actually works?!

Their hearts burning with restless temptation, someone immediately signaled a waiter. Copying Cui Ye’s exact methodology, they slapped five gold coins onto their menu—only to instantly add a +1 to the floor's body count.

The remaining players: “...” Talk about a blatant double standard!

With this fresh guinea pig serving as a warning, the remaining agitated players instantly snuffed out their plans. Although they didn't know for sure whether the collapsed bodies were dead or alive, they universally agreed that remaining frozen in their chairs was infinitely more comfortable.

A few individuals who had remained entirely unmoved throughout the display tracked the reckless fool’s collapse, their eyes carrying pure mockery without a shred of empathy. To think that after surviving a mere one or two servers, these people presumed they qualified as veteran players. They knew just enough to swindle raw newbies, but in reality, they were nothing but half-filled bottles sloshing around, unable to even touch the baseline threshold of a top-hundred guild.

Lacking the information channels of an official guild and possessing zero capital to purchase intelligence, they naturally couldn't recognize the true identity of the toy plushies perched on every surface of the coffee shop—let alone deduce that the ticket collector for this specific server was Mr. Rabbit himself.

Though this Master had never established a formal guild to recruit followers, he had securely held the absolute number one spot on the System's Kill Leaderboard for years. Every single Guild Master maintained a uniform posture regarding this entity: do not provoke under any circumstances.

Meanwhile, Cui Ye—having thoroughly learned her lesson from the Qiu Ke incident—had swept her hair down to hide the stud on her left ear. She remained entirely oblivious to the fact that upon receiving [The Rabbit's Commemorative Coin], her name had already been officially logged into the registry of that Master Rabbit. Otherwise, the exact second she activated the [Receiver], she would have already been sent straight into the reincarnation cycle.

Consigning herself to her perceived bad luck, Cui Ye gripped the sugar jar and continuously dumped sugar cubes into her coffee cup. She had no inkling that she had already been classified "as a microscopic shrimp" under Mr. Rabbit’s faction (specifically, an exceptionally hyperactive one).

She hoisted the cup and took a sip. Incredibly bitter. She dropped another cube inside and took another sip; the flavor profile didn't budge a single inch. She added two more cubes and stirred thoroughly. Still punishingly bitter.

What was the user error here? Had this sugar expired?

At this exact moment, inside a ticket office hidden deep within a barren, unpopulated desert, the entity known as Mr. Rabbit among veteran players was lazily stirring his coffee. Following the rotation of his spoon, the liquid gradually became viscous, until a thick layer of sugar frost crystallized along the rim, completely converting the original black coffee into a saturated sugar-water compound. The spoon stood perfectly vertical right in the center of the sludge.

"..." Did this person dump an entire container of sugar cubes inside?

Back in Ticket Office No. 612:
[Violation: Resource wasting is disgraceful. Fine: 5 Gold Coins.]

Cui Ye, who was currently pinching her nose to down the second cup of coffee: "!"

Her final five gold coins were completely squeezed dry. Returning once again to a flat zero balance, Cui Ye’s inner monologue erupted: Targeting! This is absolute, targeted persecution! I want to file a formal complaint!

Declaring bankruptcy for the umpteenth time, Cui Ye forced down the rest of the bitter liquid before she finally received her ticket for the next destination. Along with it came a complimentary packet of intel regarding the upcoming game server—conveniently attached to the second cup of black coffee.

[Obtained Ticket: Flower Market (Difficulty: Intermediate)]
[Flower Market Slogan: Caring for flowers and plants is everyone's responsibility.]

An apocalypse centered around flora? The most recent instance of green she had witnessed was that wretched [Green Hat]. The entire surface of the earth had been swallowed by water; where on earth was there soil available to cultivate plant life? Unless, of course, green mold counted as vegetation.

Currently, the only deduction she could extract from this slogan was that she shouldn't damage flowers or plants. It gave her absolutely no way to prep specific supplies and items.

To think a single sentence was valued at twenty gold coins. Factoring in the punctuation marks, it didn't even total twenty characters. She had a strong suspicion that her second cup of coffee had been heavily diluted with water.

Her wallet entirely hollowed out, Cui Ye exited the shop carrying a stomach full of bitter fluid and a physical ticket. The trio who had been tracking her every move exchanged a look, rising in unison to tail her out the door.

She was a rookie just like them; three of them against her alone meant she would be an effortless catch, right? As long as she obediently spilled the exact details of what her tip had secured, and handed over her items and gold coins, they might consider leaving her corpse intact.

Their mental blueprint was magnificent, yet the moment they stepped out of the storefront, they nearly lost her trail entirely. The third brother rapidly fished out a [Missing Persons Notice]. As a sketch materialized on the parchment, a directional arrow manifested on the white paper. The eldest brother deployed a [Flying Carpet], and the trio followed the direction of the arrow.

The entire sequence required no words and lacked a single wasted movement; it was glaringly obvious this wasn't their first rodeo. Very quickly, Cui Ye’s silhouette, umbrella in hand, materialized within their field of vision.

There truly was no faster method to accumulate capital than raw robbery.

* * *

Cui Ye looked down at the modest pile of gold coins and three system items resting on the concrete. She wrenched the bone blade out of the eldest brother’s frame and drove it squarely into the second brother’s calf, triggering another round of ghostly shrieks and wails.

"Are you absolutely certain you don't possess any other items?"

Having sustained three through-and-through stabs, the trio—riddled with punctures like hornets' nests—wept tears of absolute agony. "No more! There's truly nothing left!"

The third brother watched in terror as the bone knife pierced the second brother’s lower leg. Clutching the bloody cavity in his abdomen, he continuously squirmed backward. Unfortunately, his Achilles tendons had already been cleanly severed; no matter how much he wriggled, it was a completely wasted effort. Following her established sequence, the blade currently lodged in the second brother's leg would soon find its way back into his own flesh.

He rapidly clarified, desperate to stop the cycle: "Every single useless item has already been sold back to the System! Otherwise, we wouldn't have this many gold coins left over! If you don't believe me, you can check our balances yourself!"

Before the words had even fully left his mouth, two of the items vanished into thin air, converting into a compact pile of gold coins. The sight caused the third brother's chest to throb with intense agony. He had never witnessed such a reckless spendthrift in his entire life! Both the [Flying Carpet] and the [Backpack] had been liquidated at a flat, half-price system conversion rate. A net loss of forty gold coins had evaporated into thin air—a reality that felt infinitely more torturous than execution.

Out of the three seized items, Cui Ye had only kept the [Missing Persons Notice]. The remaining two items were completely useless for her current needs.

The [Flying Carpet] possessed an excessive physical volume, yet its top speed was painfully slow—she had literally stood there twiddling her thumbs under her umbrella just so they could successfully catch up to her. Meanwhile, the [Backpack] carried a pathetic internal capacity and lacked the seamless retrieval speed of her Level 3 Safe House. It held zero value in her eyes.

Recycle them all. Right now, her most critical shortage was gold coins.

Just as Cui Ye finalized her spoils and pondered how to clean up the mess, countless flecks of white powder abruptly drifted down from the sky.

"Is it snowing?" The third brother, who had sustained the lightest injuries, raised his head to inspect the phenomenon—only to realize this freak weather was falling exclusively on them.

By the time his brain processed the anomaly, the eldest and second brothers—who had been screaming bloody murder just moments prior—had gone completely silent. He opened his mouth to scream for help, but his throat could no longer force out a single sound.

Cui Ye held her umbrella, slowly rising to her feet as she watched the three corpses at her feet become rapidly carpeted by dense networks of fungal mycelium. Vibrant, neon-red mushrooms sprouted aggressively from their open wounds, and their flesh shriveled away with terrifying speed.

"I did state that we were bound to cross paths again eventually. I didn't anticipate that the absolute second we met, I'd witness you executing a textbook case of murdering people and plundering their goods. Truly, your sins are immense. I shall enforce a divine punishment on behalf of absolute justice!"

The final syllable had barely faded when a bullet materialized out of nothingness, driving straight toward Cui Ye’s head.

Qiu Ke had been lurking around the ticket office from the very beginning, patiently biding his time for the ideal moment to strike. He had originally intended to utilize a stealth release of spores to directly convert her into raw fertilizer, but he hadn't anticipated her umbrella forcing him to burn an extra system item to bypass her defenses. What an absolute, monumental waste of resources!


Chapter Notes:

• "A half-filled bottle sloshing around." 半瓶子晃荡 : A traditional colloquial idiom used to describe someone who possesses only a superficial, shallow amount of knowledge or skill, but constantly brags and makes a lot of noise—just like a half-empty bottle makes more noise when shaken than a completely full one.
• "To kill people and plunder their goods." 杀人掠货 : A classic Wuxia/historical idiom used to describe banditry, lawlessness, and cold-blooded mugging. (Note: The author used the homophone typo 掠货 instead of the traditional 掠货/越货, which gives it a modern, casual web-novel vibe).

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