Four hours earlier.
3:30 p.m., in front of the inn—a group of loud, swaggering men approached.
“Bro, it’s this place. There are quite a few people inside. I already let the air out of their van’s tires. And that little minivan they drove off in? No way it’s coming back.”
“I checked—it’s just a few old folks and some kids left. We’ve got this.”
The man who spoke had a shifty look about him as he led the group straight into the inn. He walked up to the owner and asked sharply, “Hey. That van outside—what room are its people staying in?”
The innkeeper hesitated, sizing up the newcomers and realizing they weren’t people he could afford to offend. He pointed to the second floor.
“Which room?”
The man was all respectful smiles with his own “brothers,” but snapped at the boss like he was trash.
The boss hesitated, weighing the risks, and chose silence.
The man’s face darkened immediately. “You waiting for those people to come back from the city? Not gonna happen. They went to S City. You really think they’ll make it back? Everyone who’s escaped from there says that place has mutated death tomatoes.”
According to rumors, that massive tomato had powers just like evolved humans.
The innkeeper’s heart sank. If that guy wasn’t lying… those out-of-towners might really be gone for good.
“So—what now?”
With a threatening smirk, the man leaned in. The boss frowned, thought for a moment, and finally relented. “Second room on the left.”
Satisfied, the man led his “big bro” upstairs like he owned the place.
The boss wiped the sweat from his brow and silently prayed the others were in room three.
As for the so-called “big bro,” he was twirling an ice blade between his fingers, the thing spinning in a dizzying blur.
“Bro, you’ve leveled up again!” The lackey gushed shamelessly. “We won’t even need you for this—just a few old and weak people!”
But “Big Bro” wasn’t paying attention to the flattery. Instead, he turned his gaze toward empty air—as if someone was watching him from that very spot.
“So annoying today,” he muttered. “I’m gonna go mess with a few NPCs. No rule against harming NPCs in this battle royale instance. Might as well blow off some steam.”
He seemed to be addressing someone—or something—and added casually, “If you wanna watch me play, feel free to toss a tip. I don’t need it, but hey, even a mosquito has meat.”
He tapped the air a few times, as if scrolling through a panel. Then he frowned. “What the hell is this? Can’t stream that. Fine, I’ll shut the feed off later.”
“I might like robbing and killing people, but I don’t do that kind of dirty business.”
“…Freeze them? Sure.”
He muttered to himself, and the man beside him looked baffled. He’d never seen “Big Bro” act like this.
Another one of their group leaned in and whispered, “Don’t worry about it. Mo-ge just has these quirks.”
Quirks? Like talking to… something?
The man shivered involuntarily, a chill crawling up his spine.
Mo-ge was done with his livestream chat. He turned to the others. “Let’s go. Lead the way.”
The man obediently walked ahead, stopping at the door to the second room on the left.
BANG BANG BANG! He pounded on the door. When no one answered, he grew irritated and kicked it.
This inn wasn’t like modern hotels with smart locks. The old wooden door splintered instantly under his boot, swinging open with a loud crack.
Inside, Lin Shu sat in a wheelchair, startled, her gaze snapping up.
The man strutted in. “Hand over your supplies. Didn’t you see our Mo-ge come in? He’s a player with powers!”
Lin Shu: “…”
Great. Another robbery.
Her silence only made the man angrier. “What, are you deaf? Can’t hear me?”
Song Zhenpeng immediately stepped in front of her, his face twisted in fury. “What do you think you’re doing?!”
Only then did the thug notice the tall man beside her. He took two steps back in surprise, then gathered his nerve and advanced again. “She might be deaf, but you can hear me, right?”
He sneered. “You’d better hand something over for our Mo-ge—or he’ll beat the crap out of you.”
Song Zhenpeng couldn’t tell if they were bluffing or not, but he played it safe and shook his head.
The man turned to call his buddies in—but was shoved aside by Mo-ge himself.
With a casual gesture, Mo-ge pointed at Song Zhenpeng—and an icy chill spread beneath his feet.
He looked down and saw that he was being frozen to the floor. The frost was spreading fast.
He was a real player.
Earlier, the group had agreed with Director Qiu and Doctor Fu: if any hostile players showed up, they’d try not to reveal themselves as players unless their lives were truly in danger.
Claiming “we’re livestreaming” was often enough to defuse conflict—or at least buy time.
Song Zhenpeng assessed the situation. For now, he wasn’t in immediate danger.
So he played dumb. “What the hell are you doing? We didn’t do anything to you!”
Mo-ge smirked. “You didn’t. You’re just unlucky. I’m in a shit mood today.”
Maybe they were too loud, because the ruckus drew out two elderly players from the neighboring room, along with siblings Lu Zhaodi and Lu Tiangan. They stepped into the hallway and came face-to-face with the intruders.
Lin Shu had been about to activate her ability—but seeing the others appear, she froze, stunned.
The old couple quickly understood what was happening. Without hesitation, they pulled out their food and supplies from their backpacks and handed them over.
“Here—take it, take everything! Just don’t hurt the kids!” one of the elders pleaded sincerely.
No matter if it was players or NPCs, most people couldn’t bring themselves to attack the elderly—especially ones who cooperated so quickly. Mo-ge looked thoroughly annoyed, but he only took half of what they offered, then released the ice.
As soon as Song Zhenpeng could move, he tried to lunge forward and snatch the supplies back.
“Let it go, let it go. Don’t dwell on it,” the two elderly players quickly pulled him back.
Only then did Song Zhenpeng register the pain—his legs had been frostbitten by the man’s ability. With help from the older players and the kids, he managed to sit in Lin Shu’s wheelchair and was wheeled back into the room.
“Mo-ge” strutted off triumphantly, arms full of canned goods and biscuits.
They weren’t even short on supplies—they’d simply picked Song Zhenpeng’s group to amuse themselves.
***
Once the returning seven heard the full story, they finally understood just how dangerous the situation had been.
“Why didn’t you contact us through your personal panels?” Lulu asked while healing him.
“I wanted to!” Song Zhenpeng was practically in tears. “Jiejie, our team gear isn’t high enough level—it doesn’t work over distances of dozens or hundreds of kilometers! And they didn’t even give us a chance!”
Lulu pressed down harder. “True, your team’s overall strength is pretty weak.”
“Waaah—” Song Zhenpeng wailed dramatically.
Lin Shu, half-laughing and half-exasperated, said, “Alright, alright, Lulu, go easy. He’s about to cry from the pain.”
Lulu sniffed, “Good! Let it hurt. He’ll remember the lesson.” But her hands did ease up a little.
As they spoke, Fu Changxun scanned the room, then suddenly asked, “Where’s that brat?”
Lu Tiangan was instantly erased from the narrative.
Only then did Lin Shu notice. “He was here before you all got back—where’d he go?”
Everyone turned the room upside down looking for him, but there was no sign of the kid. Even Lu Zhaodi, estranged as she was, showed a rare flicker of concern. “Did he sneak out again? He’s always been restless.”
Dong Zi furrowed his brow. “I think… I did see a little shadow slipping past the wall when we came in. Didn’t think much of it at the time.”
“What would he go out for?” Lu Zhaodi said helplessly. Her little brother was beyond exasperating. “Don’t tell me he went looking for those thugs from earlier?”
That possibility was dangerous—but also disturbingly likely.
Lu Tiangan didn’t think like a normal person. Most people saw Mo-ge and felt fear. But he might’ve thought Mo-ge was cool—and wanted to follow him.
Qiu Yi’s face turned grim. “He’ll definitely expose us as players.”
“Fuck,” Lulu cursed.
The whole room descended into chaos—except for Fu Changxun, who remained unusually calm.
Dong Zi noticed. “Ah Xun… you’ve got an idea?”
“I think,” Fu Changxun smiled faintly, “this might actually work in our favor.”
Originally, their plan had been to deliver a large stash of supplies to C City’s current leader—an influential player. Now that this player’s men had come looking for trouble first, even injuring one of their own, wasn’t it only right for the leader to take responsibility?
…Huh. That actually did make sense.
“If he’s not an idiot, he’ll want to cooperate,” Fu Changxun continued. “After all, we just came back from S City. That proves our strength.”
“You’ve got a point,” Qiu Yi said, though still wary. “But what if he doesn’t want to work with the Special Affairs Office?”
“That’s my business,” Fu Changxun said simply. “I want to speak with him. Alone.”
At the very least, he wouldn’t blow it.
***
A while later, two guards on C City’s steel walls—dozing at their posts—were startled awake by shouting.
By coincidence, it was the same two players as before. Seeing over a dozen people outside, they instantly perked up, eyes sharp with wariness.
“Hello,” Fu Changxun greeted politely. “I’d like to trouble you with delivering something to your leader—the one with highest command. Tell him he won’t regret it.”
The two men exchanged glances.
Fu Changxun calmly placed a sealed envelope before them, then turned and walked away.
They didn’t have to wait long.
By early the next morning, one of the two players came to inform them: a meeting had been arranged at noon, at a designated restaurant.
Only two people would come from the other side—so naturally, only Fu Changxun and Dong Zi went to meet them.
Following the map, they arrived at the restaurant and approached the private room.
Inside, a young man and a slightly older, more weathered one were already seated.
Upon seeing Fu Changxun and Dong Zi, both men stood up solemnly to greet them.
“Hello. I’m Fu Changxun, from the Huaxia Special Affairs Office. In-game ID: ‘Doctor.’” Fu Changxun said warmly, offering a hand to the younger man.
The man smiled and shook it. “Dagong—‘Working Stiff.’”
That name caught Fu Changxun a little off guard.
So the young man who’d turned C City into a fortress… was none other than the number one player on the global Points Leaderboard—“Working Stiff.”
The meeting went surprisingly smoothly.
