As soon as he opened the door, Xiaoxiao threw herself into his arms.
“Ge! You’re finally back! It’s been more than a day! I’m all better now!”
She had clearly finished her evolution phase. Her energy was back, and she looked genuinely happy.
Fu Changxun bent down and scooped her up again. “I wasn’t here for you when you were hurting. I’m really sorry. That won’t happen again, okay?”
Xiaoxiao grinned. “It’s okay!”
She added cheerfully, “You’re back safe—that’s what matters. While I was asleep, Lulu-jie helped ease the pain, and everyone’s doing fine.”
They turned to look—Lulu had recovered from her previous state of exhaustion and seemed back to normal.
Earlier, Qiu Yi had led a team out to draw off mutated plants. It had been risky, but they’d all returned unscathed.
Aside from Lin Shu, who was still a bit weak from blood loss, everyone in their original group had survived.
Well… not quite everyone.
Dong Zi glanced around the room, frowning. Something felt off.
After a pause, he asked the question that haunted them all: “Hey, where’s that brat—what’s-his-name Tian?”
Everyone collectively froze.
“Oh shit, yeah. Where’s Lu Tiangan?”
Even his sister, Lu Zhaodi, had no clue.
Poor, utterly ignored Lu Tiangan: “…”
He had gone missing.
After questioning the innkeeper and asking around nearby, they finally pieced together what had happened.
When the mutated plants began flooding the city, Lu Tiangan—who had already been holed up in the room for days and bored out of his mind—thought nothing would happen to him.
He saw the two elderly folks tending to the four injured players who’d been brought back, while his “ungrateful wolf” of a sister didn’t so much as glance his way.
And just like that, he decided it was the perfect time to run away.
No one would drag him back this time.
So what if it was a dungeon? He was twelve already! How hard could surviving be?
With that rebellious mindset, Lu Tiangan slipped out while no one was watching.
At the time, the city was still under attack by mutated plants. The only ones who saw him leave were the innkeeper and a few guests—none of whom stopped him, out of concern for their own safety.
According to what they were told, Lu Tiangan had left around a day ago—sometime around dusk, before night had fully fallen.
In other words, a mischievous twelve-year-old brat had already been out there for a whole night—with no news, no signal.
Chances were, he was dead.
“I swear, I could strangle that kid,” Lulu seethed. “Going out now? That’s a death sentence!”
Qiu Yi sighed. “Alright, alright. What else can we do? We’ll have to go find him.”
Lu Zhaodi looked deeply ashamed. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault—I should’ve watched him better. I’ll go out and search myself, no need to trouble everyone else…”
“This isn’t on you.”
Fu Changxun set Xiaoxiao down, then turned to pour a cup of hot water and handed it to Lu Zhaodi. “He’s only two years younger than you, and you’re both minors. You’re in no position to be his guardian, and you’re definitely not obligated to act like his mother. There’s a name for that behavior: little brother obsession.”
Lu Zhaodi was only fourteen. She was still four years away from adulthood and civil responsibility. There was no reason for her to take on the burden of a selfish little brother dragging her down.
The girl took the cup, holding it with both hands, still visibly uncertain whether she was allowed to believe those words.
Fu Changxun patted Xiaoxiao’s shoulder. “Go play with this jiejie for a bit.”
Xiaoxiao nodded and skipped over to the girl who was only a head taller than her, instantly launching into a conversation full of girl talk from the real world.
“Alright, let’s go search.”
The adults split up to conduct a carpet search, using every tool at their disposal—up to and including the black cat and the dandelion (…not that they were actually tools).
Over the next ten or so days, they scoured nearly the entire city. While casually helping out some NPCs, they also searched high and low for Lu Tiangan. Unfortunately…
They found nothing.
From every direction outward from the inn, they searched thoroughly—but no sign of him.
It was as if he’d vanished off the face of the earth.
No body. Not even a limb.
Fu Changxun even asked Dagong and Zhang Feifei—but both gave the same answer: no trace.
He also checked the livestream chat and found out Lu Tiangan had never turned on his broadcast at all—making it even harder to track him.
It was suspicious, no doubt. But this incident ended up becoming an unsolved mystery—neither the players nor the audience could make sense of it. Everyone was left uneasy, fearing they might vanish just as suddenly.
Eventually, they realized this wasn’t an isolated case.
But that revelation would only come much later.
Back to the instance—in those ten days of searching, they didn’t let themselves go hungry.
Jewelry stores, gold shops, luxury boutiques buried in the rubble became the most-visited places by players. Valuable loot meant points!
This wasn’t a secret anymore. Most “clearance guides” sold online included this tip.
Those guides ranged from half-true to complete nonsense, but this part was 100% accurate. Newbies and veterans alike rushed to scavenge whatever they could before exiting the game.
Naturally, Fu Changxun was no exception.
During their previous trip through C City—while rebuilding the wall—he’d already set his sights on a particular jewelry store.
“Ah Zi, mark the location for me. We’ll come back later,” he said seriously. “The whole area’s a mess. Judging by the chaos, it must’ve been abandoned.”
Dong Zi found him a little too adorable just then—he wanted to laugh, but managed to hold it in. “Alright, I’ve got it memorized.”
So now, a small group of them was sneaking into the jewelry store like a band of guilty thieves.
Fu Changxun cleared his throat. “Everyone… take what you can. If there’s anything you can’t carry, leave it for the NPCs, okay?”
Stealing from NPCs had long become an unspoken rule, but it still wasn’t exactly moral. Because of that, none of the kids had been brought along—and Fu Changxun made a point to collect extra loot on Xiaoxiao’s behalf to avoid her being short on points.
Even on the way back, the ever-responsible Dr. Fu made everyone swear not to tell the kids.
“We get it! We won’t say anything!” the others all solemnly promised.
Only then did Fu Changxun feel at ease.
In the remaining ten days, things unfolded just as Dagong had said—no major mutated plant threats.
Aside from the occasional NPC causing trouble in the streets (swiftly suppressed by Dagong’s underlings), there were no crises that truly endangered the players.
They spent the rest of the instance in relative peace.
Of course, that “peace” only applied to those safely inside C City’s ironclad defenses. Players scattered beyond the walls weren’t included in that definition.
At noon on Day 30, every surviving player heard the system announcement at the same time:
[Congratulations——]
[Players: “Working Stiff”, “Doctor”, “Holy Shit”, “Cixin”, “Peace Is Blessing”, “I Will Clear This!”, “Special Affairs Office Director”, “Big Bird”, “Not-So-Ladylike”, “Jiejie Is the Strongest”… and 57 other players have successfully survived 30 days!]
[Now exiting the instance. Please wait…]
