That answer was flawless.
Fu Changxun lowered his gaze with a smile, then smoothly changed the subject. “Who would pretend to be me?”
To reject a confession, that person would have to know Dong Zi was going to confess. But Dong Zi had never told anyone else. There was no way someone could’ve known in advance and planned for it.
“Maybe… he had a crush on you too and didn’t want me to confess?” Dong Zi offered hesitantly.
Fu Changxun couldn’t help laughing aloud. “You’re overthinking it. I’m really not that popular. This is classic ‘expectant mother syndrome’—you’re into me, so you start noticing other people who might be into me too, then start suspecting even more people are into me.”
He knew he’d been popular back in high school, but not that popular.
Dong Zi’s love-filter was clearly way too thick.
Fu Changxun turned to head back. “Let’s go. Director Qiu will get a read on the situation in C City.”
“Does Director Qiu know you’re calling him that?” Dong Zi turned with him, teasing as they walked. “And… do you think he’ll actually tell us what he finds?”
Fu Changxun shrugged. “That’s his call.”
But knowing Qiu Yi, there was no way he’d withhold information from teammates. That wasn’t his style.
As they made their way back, they passed scenes of both cruelty and tenderness amid the apocalypse.
A man snarled as he snatched food from his wife and daughter’s hands. Another man gently broke a single piece of candy in half to share with his girlfriend. A woman traded her body for food, without hesitation.
And some children—now orphans—sat begging on the street, having lost their parents.
All the myriad faces of humanity gathered here.
The weight of it all left them both in a heavy silence. After a while, Dong Zi spotted something ahead and abruptly turned, pulling Fu Changxun into his arms to block his view. “Let’s take another way.”
But Fu Changxun had already seen it—bodies strewn across the pavement, dead in the streets.
They might’ve starved, or perhaps been wounded by mutant plants and died from lack of treatment.
He said nothing, just murmured a quiet “Mm,” and let Dong Zi lead him down another street. They took a shortcut back to the inn.
The innkeeper was still dozing off at the door. When he saw the two familiar faces returning, he blinked awake a little, then lazily called out, “Back already? How’s the outside look? City security holding up?”
Had he asked that question before the extortion thugs came by, the answer might’ve been “decent” or even “not bad.”
But now, the two of them just exchanged a glance, smiled faintly—and said nothing.
They were the first to return. The room was empty. That’s when Fu Changxun suddenly remembered the dandelion still stuffed in his sleeve. He quickly shook it loose to let it out.
And out came the Black Cat, who’d been trapped in the inventory, immediately launching into a parkour frenzy.
Clearly, it had been pent up for too long.
But it didn’t take long for it to notice the dandelion. The cat skidded to a stop, pointed its paw accusingly, and yowled in pure outrage: “Meow meow meow!”
It was done! The damn thing wouldn’t stop talking—nonstop chattering, nonstop noise! The cat was ready to develop PTSD!
As the “boss” among their items—having arrived even before Xiao Xiao—Black Cat clearly had seniority. Fu Changxun naturally wouldn’t let it get bullied by the new “junior.”
So he turned to scold the dandelion. “Quiet down.”
The dandelion twitched and huffed indignantly. “I’m a girl! You’re supposed to be gentle with me!”
There were so many problems with that statement it was hard to know where to start.
Never mind the ridiculous idea that “being a girl” required special treatment—how the hell did a dandelion even define gender? Was it supposed to be intersex until it mutated into something else?
Fu Changxun frowned. “Aren’t plants usually self-pollinating? You know—hermaphroditic?”
“Oh my god, who cares about that!” the dandelion whined, its petals twisting dramatically. “I want to be a girl, teehee~ I’ve been trapped outside forever without saying a single word! Don’t I at least deserve some praise?”
Fu Changxun: “……”
He was starting to suspect that during their trip, this damn flower had picked up some… unhelpful knowledge. And now it was overcompensating, in the worst possible way.
“Fine. You want to be a girl, you can be a girl,” he said, conceding. “But stop bullying Xiao Hei.”
The dandelion’s leaves fluttered in outrage. “When did I bully it?! When?! It’s just too sensitive—I just wanted to chat! If a little small talk freaks the kitty out, how are we supposed to share space in there? How about… we take turns coming out for fresh air?”
Black Cat: “Meow—!”
Keep dreaming!
It could stay silent and hide in his sleeve, like it did today—but its size made it way too conspicuous when out in the open. The one getting the short end of the stick would always be the cat.
Dandelion: “Tch. Petty cat.”
Black Cat: “Meow aow!” Two-faced weed!
It was about to hiss at the dandelion. If Fu Changxun didn’t step in, he’d be eating this thing tonight—fried, boiled, or grilled!
Speaking of which, dandelions were technically edible. Listening to their bickering, which only he could hear, Fu Changxun silently lifted a hand and covered his face.
Could someone please tell him how to throw instance creatures back into the damn instance they came from?
Dong Zi watched him, caught in the middle of this absurd “conversation” with two non-verbal items—one animal, one plant. The tone was escalating. A full-on shouting match between flora and fauna was clearly imminent.
He calmly pulled Fu Changxun aside. “Let it go. If they wanna argue, let them.”
“But…” Fu Changxun muttered weakly, “they’re assaulting my ears…”
Dong Zi sighed and gently pressed both hands over his ears.
Silence.
But as Dong Zi’s warmth gradually seeped into his nerve endings, the tips of Fu Changxun’s ears flushed red—and he found himself even less willing to move.
If he pulled away now, wouldn’t that mean he was rejecting Dong Zi?
That wasn’t what he meant at all.
But staying in this position also felt… weird.
In the end, it was Director Qiu and the others returning that saved him. The two rowdy props were forced back into the inventory to argue in peace, and Fu Changxun finally got a break from the noise.
Ahem. And naturally, that meant a certain someone no longer had to occupy both hands covering his ears.
With that in mind, Fu Changxun greeted Qiu Yi’s entrance with exceptional enthusiasm. He stepped forward with a bright smile. “Director Qiu, you’re back? Did you find anything? Run into any other players? You didn’t get exposed, did you?”
Qiu Yi shook his head. “Found some things, but no other players, and definitely didn’t blow my cover. I’d say this trip was worth it—I gathered quite a bit of intel.”
He glanced toward the female players’ room. “Let’s wait for everyone else to get back first.”
By sundown, nearly all the players had returned to the inn before nightfall.
Except for the two lone-wolf players. They hadn’t come back—or maybe they never would.
In a sprawling, chaotic city like C City, it was all too easy for a couple of plain, unremarkable people with no presence to vanish into the crowd. Give it a few days, and no one would be able to find them again.
With that in mind, the group stopped waiting and let Qiu Yi begin his report on the city’s layout.
“C City’s system is more or less set,” Qiu Yi said. “At the top are players with abilities. But they’re not united—mostly split into little cliques and alliances.”
He jotted something on a piece of paper. “From what I could gather, C City was likely the most populated drop point for players. There are 72 confirmed survivors here, and 34 confirmed dead.”
In other words, at least over a hundred players were dropped into C City at the start of the game.
In the beginning, they didn’t know each other, didn’t interfere with one another, and stuck to their own small groups.
But as the game progressed and both NPCs and players started dying, they realized survival—and clearing the game—would require cooperation.
That was when a powerful or well-ability’d player stepped up and rallied most of the others. He led the construction of a “wall” and pulled subordinates under his wing.
Yes, that towering steel wall around the city was real—it was likely created or forged by someone with metal-manipulating powers. Most mutant plants were vines or tree-like, not as agile as animals, and couldn’t scale the wall.
So aside from the plants that had already taken root in the city before, nothing new could get in.
That was how C City stayed safe.
“The rest of the players must be scattered across other cities…” Fu Changxun mused. “Looks like this is a full-scale world. The players have all been separated.”
He shook his head, then asked, “Did they come up with any food solutions?”
If the leader couldn’t meet the group’s needs, they’d oust him sooner or later.
Qiu Yi sighed. “This player said that people could head outside the city to scavenge for food or other resources—gas, supplies, whatever—and then trade them for vacuum-sealed food once back in C City.”
It was a hasty solution, but in a post-apocalyptic world, it was a decent way to stabilize the populace.
“So, are we going to meet this player?” Dong Zi spoke up, breaking the silence with a glance at the room full of barely restrained ambition. “I think it’s worth a shot.”
A player with that kind of influence was rare. If they could recruit him into the Special Affairs Office…
It would be like giving wings to a tiger.
But clearly, just being players wasn’t enough to get an audience. They’d have to do something to stand out—like hauling in a huge pile of resources from outside.
“We’re going out of the city?” Lulu’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Going out to fight mutant plants? That sounds so cool!”
Qiu Yi rapped her lightly on the head. “We’re doing this to eat, not to play hero.”
Lulu pouted. “I know, I know. So… is Lin Shu coming? Doesn’t seem like you’re in the best condition…”
Lin Shu answered gently, “I’ll pass. I’d just slow you down. But my younger brother can go—he’s the one with the ability you saw, the one that freezes things in place.”
Lin Ze had used his power when they rescued Lu Tiangan’s mother. It had proven quite effective.
“What’s your ability again?” Lulu asked, trying to recall.
She remembered vaguely that Lin Shu could absorb the moisture from inside objects.
“You’re right,” Lin Shu said, wheeling her chair around. “I can evaporate the water inside living organisms. But it’s limited—I can only extract about one cup’s worth.”
It worked well on plants with low moisture content, but was ineffective against thick-leaved or water-storing species.
Lulu sighed. “Oh well.”
Fu Changxun had no interest in pretending anymore and cut straight to the point. “We need to decide who’s staying. C City’s not exactly secure. Leaving the weakest players behind would be asking for trouble. We need someone who can maintain order.”
“I’ll stay.”
Everyone turned. The one who spoke was… Song Zhenpeng.
