“Hypnosis.” Fu Changxun didn’t hold anything back. He said it casually, as if it were no big deal. “I can hypnotize someone for five minutes.”
The time was limited, but the hypnosis was absolute.
Dong Zi was stunned for a moment, then smiled. “That’s actually really good. Looks like frequent use does lead to evolution. Guess I’ve fallen behind this time.”
Fu Changxun gave him a sly wink. “Can’t have you babysitting me all the time. I need at least one trump card of my own.”
“I…” Dong Zi started to speak but swallowed his words in the end. “Mm. That’s good.”
He would, of course, always stay by Ah Xun’s side. But considering how deranged the game could get, there was no telling if they might be split up in a future instance—maybe even forced into opposing teams. If that happened, having more power would only benefit Ah Xun.
Seeing his hesitation, Fu Changxun chuckled softly. “Don’t worry. I need you.”
He did need Dong Zi.
He needs me.
The realization hit Dong Zi like a wave of joy crashing down on him. It took him a full two minutes to process it.
Compared to Fu Changxun’s firm rejection before entering the instance, this was a massive shift—his attitude had clearly softened.
By the time Dong Zi snapped out of it, Fu Changxun had already walked several meters ahead. Dong Zi quickly caught up and mumbled under his breath, “I… I need you too. You know that, right?”
Fu Changxun replied calmly, “Mm. I know.”
Maybe it was the hormones acting up, but the two of them just stood side by side in the cold wind outside the gas station for a long while—neither of them feeling the chill.
It wasn’t until Fu Changxun gave a little shiver that Dong Zi finally snapped out of his daze and reached out to touch him.
After saying those words, Fu Changxun had been feeling a little anxious. He’d just opened his mouth to say, “Let’s head back,” when he saw Dong Zi’s hand suddenly reach out, looping around the back of his neck. The warmth of it sent a wave of nervousness through him.
But Dong Zi didn’t try to take advantage. Instead, he simply tugged his collar tighter and asked, “Are you cold?”
Fu Changxun: “…”
So it was just… pulling up his collar? Why make it feel so ambiguous?
He was speechless. “Not cold. I’m fine. Let’s go back.”
Dong Zi had no idea what kind of opportunity he’d just missed. He nodded in agreement, and after making sure there were no plants lurking around the gas station, the two of them returned to the car.
But as soon as they got back, they were met with the shrill screech of a little boy yelling:
“Why won’t you give it to me?! You’re trying to starve me to death! I’m livestreaming, okay? If you people let me starve, the whole world’s gonna see it!”
Fu Changxun didn’t even need to guess who it was.
Of course, it was Lu Tiangan—the walking disaster. He’d been quiet the whole trip, and now he was back at it again.
The last of his chips had been lost during yesterday’s escape. Back then, he’d actually been reckless enough to try and run back to retrieve them.
Naturally, Qiu Yi had shouted at him to stop and later gave him a good talking-to. But clearly, the lecture had gone in one ear and out the other.
“You ever think about how the whole world saw you push your own mother away?” Lulu asked, baffled by his logic. “You’re not scared of that?”
Lu Tiangan really hadn’t thought about it.
For the past twelve years, his mother had done everything for him. He’d never had to think for himself, never had to lift a finger. Even things like eating and dressing had practically been done for him.
He had zero life experience. Complex thoughts? Too much effort. His grades were abysmal, yet somehow he always ate better, dressed better, and lived better than his older sister, who consistently ranked at the top of her class. He’d always believed it was his due—everyone should cater to him, love him unconditionally and without reason.
Whether it was upbringing or his true nature, he’d been spoiled rotten.
“What’s that got to do with me?! My mom would totally die for me. She’d never blame me!”
He was shouting at them, flailing with rage—until someone grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him clean off the ground.
Dong Zi picked up the chubby kid effortlessly and said coldly, “Yeah, your mother might’ve been willing to die for you. But we’re not. The person who loved you most in this world? You killed her.”
Before the brat could start hurling insults again, Fu Changxun added, “We’re not related. So I could easily leave you here to fend for yourself.”
He’d made that threat once already in the mall but hadn’t followed through. Lu Tiangan figured it was just hot air and kept clawing at them.
But since he was dangling off the ground now, he couldn’t even reach Dong Zi to struggle. The whole scene looked more absurd than threatening.
Lu Zhaodi had never seen her brother look so pathetic. She couldn’t help but laugh.
She wasn’t some kind-hearted saint. After years of being pushed around and treated like she didn’t matter, she felt no sibling affection for her brother. Saying she didn’t hate him would’ve been a lie.
It felt good. This game had finally freed her from her toxic family. She wasn’t overjoyed, but she certainly wasn’t sad.
Xiao Xiao, trying to look all grown-up, reached out and patted her on the head. “If you wanna laugh, go ahead and laugh.”
This jiejie… really had it rough.
“What are we gonna do with him?” Fu Changxun asked, rubbing his temples. He pointed at Lu Tiangan, exasperated. “If we really abandon him, it feels a little immoral. But keeping him around is just a headache.”
Dong Zi replied calmly, “Easy. If talking doesn’t work, beat him. He’ll learn.”
Everyone: “…”
It didn’t sound ideal, but honestly… it was the simplest and most effective approach. Worth a shot.
No one tried to stop him. Clearly, they’d all been holding in their frustration with this brat for a while.
Dong Zi turned to the women in the group. “Ladies, avert your eyes.”
Then he yanked down the chubby kid’s pants and gave him a resounding smack on the ass. The motion was so smooth and practiced, it made people wonder if he was some seasoned father.
“AAAH—!”
Lu Tiangan screamed bloody murder. Dong Zi didn’t hold back in the slightest. He beat the kid until he cried.
Turns out the brat really did need a good spanking.
“My neighbor’s kid used to act out like this. His mom asked me to help discipline him,” Dong Zi offered by way of explanation, in case Fu Changxun got the wrong idea. “He’s in a top-tier high school now.”
Fu Changxun snorted. “Haha, is that so?”
He found himself secretly grateful that Xiao Xiao was a girl—and a sweet, well-behaved one at that. Otherwise, their home might’ve had scenes like this all the time—wait, hold on. Why had he just mentally categorized Dong Zi as part of “the family”?
As Lu Tiangan wailed for his nonexistent dad and mom, Fu Changxun silently spiraled into existential doubt.
It wasn’t until Dong Zi was done, and the brat finally went quiet with fear in his eyes, that Fu Changxun remembered—there were three NPCs nearby.
He quickly turned around and said, “Sorry about that. Just disciplining a problem child from home. Hope you don’t mind.”
The car owner and his wife, along with their kid, all shook their heads quickly: “N-no, not at all. Please, go ahead!”
Fu Changxun smiled politely. “Thanks, thanks.”
But as he turned away, he heard the wife whisper to her husband, “Make sure we raise our kid properly. God forbid he ends up like that. So embarrassing!”
Fu Changxun stumbled, nearly tripping.
Yep—Dong Zi had officially been promoted to “scary parent” in their eyes.
At least the incident might encourage them to raise their kid properly—though it had nothing to do with the players anymore.
After the spanking, Lu Tiangan was too sore to scream. From now on, the image of Dong Zi in his mind was forever linked with getting his ass beaten. He didn’t dare yell anymore, just sobbed in short, pitiful bursts.
He hadn’t eaten in two meals, and after throwing such a tantrum, he was completely out of energy.
Lu Zhaodi looked at her brother, now with a bright red, swollen backside. Though part of her relished the justice, he was still her only blood relative. She took out a pack of compressed biscuits and handed him half.
But Lu Tiangan slapped it away without hesitation, sending it tumbling to the dusty ground.
“I don’t need your fake kindness! Sister, my ass. I’m cutting ties with you the moment we get back!”
The moment the words left his mouth, Lu Zhaodi’s expression changed completely. She picked up the fallen biscuits, dusted them off silently, and stuffed them back in her pocket without a word.
If he didn’t need them, she wouldn’t offer again.
Lu Tiangan could fend for himself.
Even if the adults noticed the spat between the siblings, there was nothing they could really do about it.
Besides, it was the Lu family’s business. No one was foolish enough to tell the girl to forgive her brother.
Since they couldn’t use open flames at the gas station, the group refueled several more containers before moving on. Before nightfall, they found a safe place to camp and start a fire to cook—a modest meal of instant noodles and canned food.
The NPC driver looked at their dinner with obvious envy, but his wife quickly called him over to gnaw on dry bread.
Once fed and full, everyone gathered around the fire to warm themselves. It wasn’t just for comfort—it was also for safety.
Plants feared fire.
“You guys came from Shangdu, right?” the driver struck up conversation. “What was the plant situation like over there? I started out in G City. A giant mutant pomegranate tree attacked the place. Tons of people died. We barely made it out alive.”
The players didn’t know much about the cities in this world. They’d originally planned to head for C City only because all the NPCs kept saying it was highly industrialized.
Fu Changxun jumped in smoothly with a lie. “Shangdu was the same. Too much greenery—mutant plants were everywhere. That’s why we ran.”
The driver didn’t doubt him in the slightest and said enthusiastically, “Guess we’re all in the same boat.”
“By the way, have you heard about the people with special abilities in C City? They were the ones who stabilized the place. I heard they even built a city wall. I really wanna see it for myself…”
He looked dreamy, already fantasizing about a peaceful future in C City.
People with special abilities…
The players exchanged glances. That description sounded suspiciously like their own abilities.
Could other players have been teleported to C City too? Would they treat the NPCs well?
Seeing the hope in the NPC’s eyes, none of them had the heart to speak.
Fu Changxun tossed a dry stick into the fire. As the flames flickered, he asked, “How’d you find out about that? Isn’t the power and internet down? Where’d the info come from?”
The driver sighed. “Just rumors. Supposedly someone managed to connect to a radio station after trying a bunch of times. He happened to hear that C City was safe, so he left immediately. He’s working there now—totally safe, no threats to his life at all.”
Fu Changxun wanted to ask: If that guy left, then how do you know he’s safe?
But looking at the man’s hopeful eyes, he swallowed the question.
Maybe the driver knew the information was unreliable. But rumors—true or not—didn’t matter. What people needed was something to hold on to.
A reason to keep going.
Nothing more.
