Chapter 11: Trading: Raccoon City?

[Heat wave warning: Cheng’an City’s maximum temperature is expected to exceed 36°C over the coming week. Citizens, please take precautions against the heat.]

[Director Angie’s latest masterpiece, adapted from a famous IP—Let’s Wander Together hits theaters this September!]

[Bukuiqi Laboratory announces a major scientific breakthrough—interstellar travel is about to become reality.]

[Fried pork ribs at the cafeteria today at noon (≧∇≦)]

[Bei Yun’s proposal got approved. Livestream scheduled for the 10th—the streamers specifically requested Ellie.]

[What’s going on with the Baby Pillow samples? Weren’t they supposed to arrive today?]

The content was perfectly normal—but precisely because it was too normal, something felt off.

Scrolling through every app, Ji Li found no news related to any apocalypse.

No epidemic, no vague rumors, no one reporting any physical symptoms.

Of course, the sample size might be too small, the information insufficient.

Ji Li set the phone aside and went back to moving corpses. But from then on, every body he moved, he’d pat down the pockets—and whenever he found a phone, he’d set it aside to charge.

A dozen-odd phones checked in a row, all with much the same content: peace and stability throughout.

Just then, a phone appeared in front of Ji Li’s face, a line of text on the screen: [Figured anything out?]

Ji Li looked up at Gao Lan.

“This should be the outbreak site of the Zombie Virus. If the infection had spread here from somewhere else, even with the government higher-ups muzzling the press, there’d still be rumors and whispers. But I haven’t seen a single trace of that.”

Gao Lan typed: [Raccoon City?]

Ji Li smiled. “Exactly. That one.”

Gao Lan nodded, pocketed her phone, and went back to digging cores. But the smile gradually faded from Ji Li’s face as he thoughtfully grabbed the empty collar of a zombie’s shirt and dragged it into an empty room nearby.

The two worked until nightfall, digging out over seventy Zombie Cores, the corpses stuffing the offices on both sides of the corridor to bursting.

Gao Lan looked at the cores in the plastic bag, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and took out her phone.

[We can’t dig anymore—the door won’t be blockable. I do NOT want to wake up tomorrow surrounded by zombies.]

Ji Li pounded his lower back and had just agreed when the outstretched phone showed: [Cores split fifty-fifty.]

Again?

Ji Li’s shoulders sagged. “Sister, I honestly don’t have the strength to argue with you anymore…”

[Then listen to me. You did most of the work AND got injured. Seventy-thirty is far too unfair to you.]

“Without you, I couldn’t have killed this many zombies anyway…”

[Then tomorrow I’ll drag the corpses and you dig the cores.]

Ji Li and Gao Lan stared at each other for a few seconds before he conceded defeat.

“Fine, Sister. Your way.”

Gao Lan smiled in satisfaction, found a clean spot, had Ji Li hold the phone as a light, and began counting cores.

Seventy-five in total. To make splitting easier, Gao Lan dug out one more—thirty-eight apiece.

The moment the spoils were divided, both began submitting their quests almost simultaneously. The rewards were the same—three breads, three bottles of water—but neither cared, both staring at the newly popped-up Virtual Screen.

【Congratulations, Player, on unlocking the Player Trading System. Two Players may trade Points and items by opening the interface face-to-face】

After the Virtual Screen vanished, Ji Li looked at Gao Lan. She nodded, and the two opened the Trading System face-to-face.

The interface that popped up was clearly stitched together from left and right halves.

The left side was translucent grey-blue, with 【Gao Lan】 written at the top. Below were two side-by-side boxes, one large and one small. Under the large box: 【Please place trade items】; under the small box: 【Please enter trade Points】; below both were 【Confirm】 and 【Cancel】 buttons.

The right side’s layout was identical, except the background was the same pale blue as the rest of the system, with Ji Li’s name at the top. At the very bottom of both sides ran a line of small text:

【After an item trade, goods are stored in the Player’s Backpack. Each transaction, the System levies a 10% trade tax on both parties’ transaction value】

“There’s a freaking TAX?!”

Ji Li was nearly laughed into fury.

The Trading System he’d imagined was the novel kind—list items on the System, a flea-market setup like Xianyu. Instead, all they got was a trade interface.

And it taxed! Both sides!

Gao Lan frowned: [This tax is far too heavy, and double-collected on top of it. If not for Points, most Players would just barter. This design makes no sense—it hurts Player survival AND Points circulation.]

Even a corporate group executive couldn’t make sense of the Game’s bizarre design. In the end, the two set the matter aside and discussed tomorrow’s action plan.

[Rough estimate, we killed a hundred-plus zombies today. No telling how many remain. Tomorrow, gather at seven thirty again as usual and check the left corridor’s fire door. If things go well, we might clear the stairwell tomorrow. Worst case, we risk opening the sliding door on the first floor.]

Ji Li nodded, bid Gao Lan goodnight, and they each returned to their rooms.

Closing the door, Ji Li hung up his delivery uniform—its original color long lost—pulled Eno from his pocket, kicked off his shoes, and padded barefoot to the desk.

Using his phone face-down as a light source, he first wiped the robot clean with a wet wipe before dealing with his own grime.

Hands and face wiped, phone wiped down too, he poured bottled water into his lunch box, soaked the dried-out wet wipe, and began scrubbing his hair.

Hair done, water dumped, a fresh bottle opened to wash his underwear—only when he finally felt clean inside and out did Ji Li let out a sigh and murmur:

“I miss hot showers…”

Who knew when he’d save enough points to buy Safe House gear… This stingy-ass game!

Hanging his freshly washed underwear with a resentful flick, Ji Li changed into sweatpants, opened the drawer, took out the Space Bracelet, emptied all its contents, then duplicated and re-stored them—yielding a bracelet with eight cubic meters of capacity.

Eight cubic meters. Enough for the short term.

So thinking, Ji Li put away his supplies, flopped onto the folding bed piled with a dozen blankets, gazed at the ceiling, and summoned the shop interface.

【Ji Li, Points: 440】

Just 460 short of a Safe House Repair Card. Please let it be duplicable, or I really won’t survive.

Bored, he browsed the System Shop; the sky-high prices only made him angrier, so he shut it and pulled up his backpack to check the System rewards instead.

1 steamed bun, 6 breads, 6 bottles of water… This lousy game—the item-stacking in the backpack is the only thing that feels like a game.

But the steamed bun had been sitting there three days. Was it still edible? The temperature wasn’t high, but would items in the System be affected by the environment?

Ji Li reached out and tapped the steamed bun. The next second, a big white bun appeared in his hand—a hefty thing the size of a grown man’s palm, with real heft to it.

But that wasn’t the point.

Like someone possessed in a horror movie, Ji Li sat bolt upright in bed.

Half a minute later, he was knocking on Gao Lan’s door, bun in hand, eyes blazing.

“Sister Lan! I found a time-frozen space!”

Gao Lan looked at the familiar-looking bun in his hand and needed only half a second to figure it out. Forgetting even her phone, she blurted:

“The Player Backpack?!”

“Yes! Items of the same type stack in the Player Backpack, no known limit, and time is frozen inside—nothing rots! This bun has been in my backpack for three days and it’s still warm!”

Ji Li split the bun in two, forced half into Gao Lan’s hand, and took a fierce bite himself.

Swallowing, he said eagerly, “We can use the Player Trading System to store vital supplies in our backpacks for long-term safekeeping!”

Gao Lan opened her Player Backpack, looked at the remaining bread and water inside, then went back for her phone.

[Ten slots total—so probably only ten types of supplies. But with stacking, the storage potential is considerable.]

Ji Li was thrilled. “And we can set our own trade prices—like a whole box of instant noodles for 1 Point! So we need to get into the city ASAP, the sooner the better!”

Gao Lan: [Right. Clear the stairwell fast, get upstairs, find the map.]

Both were thinking of the city’s rich supplies. Find one big supermarket, and its goods would be enough to fill their Player Backpacks and secure months, even years, of life.

[We should also plan for the possibility of not finding a map and having to explore by car ourselves. Starting tomorrow, only submit the minimum core quota—stockpile the rest and turn them in gradually. That way, even if we can’t kill zombies on the road, we won’t fail the quest penalty.] Gao Lan typed.

Ji Li grunted acknowledgment. “We also need to figure out how to siphon gas from those cars. There’s a water pipe in the parking lot restroom, but it’s too wide—no idea if it’ll work.”

[No rush on that. Finish searching this building first. Get some sleep—early start tomorrow.] Gao Lan raised her phone at him.

“Okay. Goodnight.”

Ji Li returned to his room clutching his half bun, brimming with excitement. The thought of the Player Backpack’s stacking function made his fingers itch.

Without Gao Lan’s cooperation, testing the stacking limit was out—but he could test whether stacked items could be withdrawn individually.

He opened the backpack, looked at the stacked bread and water, and tapped the bread.

Instantly, a new popup appeared.

【Please enter quantity: 0】

YES! Withdraw on demand!

Ji Li was so excited he wolfed down his half-bun in a few bites, choked, and hurriedly twisted open a bottle of mineral water, gulping down a big mouthful.

The cold liquid slid down his throat, raising goosebumps—and it felt absolutely glorious.

Another sip to rinse his mouth, and Ji Li set down the bottle, absently patting Eno where it stood at the Charging Dock.

“Goodnight, Makka Pakka!”

Eno: [••]?

Eno: [••]╬

Ji Li was just about to take off his jacket and get into bed when a distinctly syllabled mechanical voice suddenly sounded in his ear—deliberately drawn-out syllables, rising and falling tones, almost perfectly replicating the pronunciation of “Eno.”

Ji Li stared at the little robot in astonishment. It had run out from the Charging Dock and now stood on the edge of the desk, up on tiptoe, head tilted back to look at him, shouting loudly—

Eno: E—NO! E——NO!

Eno: [◺◿]╬

Ji Li froze for a beat, then burst out laughing.

“Okay~ Eno. Goodnight, Eno.”

Eno: [◺◿]!

Eno: [••]···

Eno: [••]/

“Pfft! You really are—quick to anger, quick to forgive…” Ji Li patted Eno’s head and muttered, “Emotions this rich—are you about to turn into a spirit or something?”

The moment the words left his mouth, he couldn’t help shaking his head at himself.

Holding Eno by the head, he set it back on the Charging Dock, took off his jacket, and burrowed under the covers, mulling over whether the scavenged power strips would be enough to lock the left corridor’s fire door.

If not, he’d substitute clothes or something similar. As long as the corpses piled up, there’d be no fear of zombies storming the tower.

“…Human adaptability is terrifying.”

Realizing what he was thinking, Ji Li clicked his tongue and closed his eyes.