He made his way smoothly down to the lower floors. The further down he went, the more obvious the signs of looting that dug down to bedrock became. Thinking of the “thieves” Nova and Liliya had mentioned, then remembering how he himself had once plucked feathers from every passing goose, Ji Li’s cheeks grew a little hot.
“I was just trying to survive too…” he couldn’t help muttering in his own defense.
Just as he was about to head down the next flight, something felt off.
The stairwell landing below seemed… brighter?
Ji Li’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t go down right away. Instead, he took the time to check all four staircases and found two of them relatively bright while the other two remained as dark as before.
This meant the brighter staircases were near the main entrance, hence the relative light. But even that brightness didn’t look like daylight—it felt more like dusk, or the gray dimness of early dawn.
Yet accounting for the delay from the kids dragging cars and his slow descent, it should theoretically be somewhere between nine and ten in the morning.
Had the time calibration been wrong?
Ji Li pondered for a moment, then quietly slipped down the staircase farthest from the entrance.
He’d considered waiting for the man upstairs to come down and scout the way for him, but with no way to know how long the wait would be, he ultimately decided to try it himself first and retreat if things went wrong.
One floor down and around the bend, Ji Li finally saw the ground floor—and a man sitting at the stairwell entrance, wrapped up so thoroughly that not an inch showed, chatting with someone.
Ji Li was immensely grateful for his own caution. He had kept his footsteps muffled the entire way and hadn’t rashly shown himself.
Seeing that someone was lying in wait, he quietly withdrew his head, retreated behind a nearby structure, crouched down, held his breath, and eavesdropped.
“…Anyone come down?”
“Nope. Feels like this wave either has barely anyone with a Safe House, or they’re all tough nuts.”
“Tch. Mandalay eats fat again.”
“Can’t be helped. They’ve got deep pockets. We only know the spawn timing thanks to them.”
“Ugh. I thought coming here we’d score something good, or at least earn some extra points. Instead it’s either fighting or…”
The man’s words were cut off by a shout: “Don’t run! Why are you running? Whatever it is, we can talk it out!”
“Holy shit, a Fat Sheep! Come on, let’s go watch!”
Hearing this, Ji Li rose decisively, moved to the staircase, and peeked out to confirm which way the two men had gone. Then he immediately headed down and in the opposite direction, walking all the way to the end before hugging the wall and running for the exit.
By this point, he could see the ground floor’s layout. Overall it was the same as the parking lot, just without cars—walled on three sides with a single opening, facing the dilapidated ruins in the distance.
This layout offered nowhere to hide, but fortunately there were plenty of pillars, the light was dim, he was dressed head to toe in black, and the men guarding the stairs had all gathered together far away. No one saw him.
Ji Li slipped out of the building smoothly. As he breathed a sigh of relief, he was also utterly astonished by what he saw.
No ice. No snow. Only a cold so low it needled through every gap in his clothing, yet not a trace of the white that belonged to extreme cold. Everything in sight was black and gray—a stark contrast to anyone’s image of a frigid climate.
The light was dim. A white disc hung high in the gray sky, with none of the sun’s dazzle or the moon’s silver glow, shrouded in the same gray as the land itself.
How could this be?
Ji Li didn’t dwell on the question. Surprised as he was, his feet never stopped running toward the ruins.
Only when he reached a collapsed building did he glance back over his shoulder.
And that one glance would stay with him forever.
It was a tower reaching toward the sky, embedded in a towering black mountain.
The mountain was pure black; the giant tower, grayish-white. The mountain all but cradled the tower in its embrace, leaving only the building’s square edges exposed at the base and the summit.
No wonder there were no windows—they’d hollowed out the mountain and built a tower inside it!
But if they’d already hollowed out the mountain, why not just live in the mountain itself?
Full of questions, Ji Li turned his gaze to the collapsed building beside him.
These ruins stood a mere two or three hundred meters from the Mountain Building, yet were in a completely different state.
The tower’s main structure was perfectly preserved; even the Egg-Shaped Cars looked like they’d start with just a charge of energy. These ruins, though, looked like they’d been abandoned and crumbling for a century, the very walls beginning to powder away.
Ji Li brushed the dust off his hands and walked into the ruins along the street.
The surrounding buildings had collapsed in every bizarre configuration imaginable, with no fixed pattern. Some had flattened completely; some leaned and teetered; others had snapped into upper and lower halves.
This terrain meant the streets were easily severed by collapsed buildings, forcing constant detours. Getting lost would be easy.
After a few circles, Ji Li decided this wouldn’t do. He simply picked a half-collapsed building, climbed up high for a look around, and immediately made a new discovery.
To the right of the ruins ran a Frozen River, and on the flats between it and the ruins, crowds of people had gathered. Judging by their movement patterns and behavior, it looked like something resembling a market.
A perfect place to gather information.
A good place, yes—but charging over there rashly would be unwise.
As Ji Li was weighing how to approach, several people walked past, two of the voices inexplicably familiar.
“Keep going and you’ll reach the nearby Player Market. No one dares touch you in there.”
“Really?” the man sandwiched between them asked weakly.
“Why would we lie! Nine Star Guild always keeps its word. You pay as agreed, and we take you to the Player Market—payment on delivery, goods on payment.”
“Then… my Safe House…”
“Relax, relax. We genuinely couldn’t care less about the little bit of stuff in that Safe House.”
“But buddy, don’t say I didn’t warn you—that bit of Fossil Fuel of yours won’t last long. The efficiency’s too low. Get your hands on the local energy and an engine as soon as you can. One unit lasts at least five days.”
The man in the middle hesitated, words on the tip of his tongue. “If you three hadn’t taken two-thirds…”
“What was that?”
“N-nothing! Nothing at all!”
The group moved further away, heading, by the look of it, toward the Frozen River flats.
Ji Li watched for a good while, memorized their route, then left the building and followed the same pattern forward.
Ten-odd minutes later, Ji Li stared at the obstacle before him and began doubting his sense of direction.
That’s not right! He used to weave through back streets delivering food and had never once gotten lost. Why did he keep walking into dead ends here?
“It’s all this rubble, collapsed into look-alike piles, and the dim light…”
Anyway, it wasn’t his fault.
Ji Li turned around in resignation—and came face to face with a small figure bundled up from head to toe.
“Ah!”
Ji Li yelped and jumped back, his hand reflexively diving into his pocket to grip the gun.
The small figure glanced at the movement of his hand and snorted. A rather aged voice drifted out from under the scarf.
“The Player Market doesn’t allow robbery or brawling. Otherwise I’d have made my move already.”
Ji Li: “…” Well, thanks a lot.
His heart still pounded with lingering fear, but he was also puzzled.
He’d been careful the entire way, certain there was no movement anywhere around—and this was a dead end. When on earth had this old man appeared?
Players had far too many tricks. From now on he couldn’t rely entirely on his five senses; he had to find a way to completely conceal his tracks!
Committing this to memory, Ji Li composed himself and spoke. “How did you know I’m young? I’m bundled up this tight.”
“My ears work just fine! You were muttering away just now—anyone with ears could hear you!” Ji Li suspected the old man was rolling his eyes behind his mask, but he had no proof.
He coughed awkwardly. “Ah. Right. Old sir, could you take me to the Player Market? I seem to have, ahem, gotten lost.”
The old man snorted again. “You say ‘guide me’ and I guide you? Where are your manners? Is that how you ask someone for a favor?”
Ji Li: “…I would like to request your guidance. What price do you think would be fair?”
“One unit of energy.”
One unit again? How much was one unit?
Puzzled, Ji Li showed nothing on his face as he stepped around the old man. “Never mind then. I’ll wander a bit. I’ll find it eventually.”
“Hold it right there!” The old man hurried after him in exasperation, sputtering a stream of reproach. “What’s wrong with young people these days! No manners! No gratitude! Not a shred of respect for elders! Too lazy to even use your brain! Would it kill you to introduce yourself and ask, ‘Might I know your honored name, old sir?'”
It wouldn’t. But he didn’t want to.
Ji Li quickened his pace. The old man had no choice but to scurry after him on his short little legs, his tone softening several degrees.
“Fine, fine. Since you’re new here, I, Old Pengka, will do a good deed for once… just this once!”
“Thank you so much.”
Ji Li bowed, and Old Pengka grunted twice, seemingly satisfied.
And so the two traveled together, Ji Li trailing half a step behind Old Pengka as they wound this way and that. Curious, he asked, “Mr. Old Pengka, how did this Player Market come to be? Is it really true no one robs or brawls here?”
“None of that ‘Mr. Old Pengka’ nonsense—it sounds terrible! Just call me Old Pengka!” Old Pengka shot him a look. “Do you even need to ask? Nobody sleeps with their eyes open. Everyone needs a place where they can rest and trade with peace of mind, so an area like this formed out of mutual understanding.”
At that, Ji Li slowed his steps. “Mutual understanding? And everyone just agreed to abide by it?”
Old Pengka gave him a look. “Trust is the cornerstone of civilization. Anyone who breaks that iron rule gets hunted down by everyone.”
Yeah, right.
If people were really that honest, why would anyone bother establishing a Safe Zone in the first place?
“Old sir, I’m not stupid.” Ji Li smiled politely—pity the scarf hid it.
Old Pengka tsked, then told the truth anyway. “Because this is the Guild Outpost of several major Guilds. With them keeping order, nobody dares step out of line.”
Guilds? Guild Outpost?
New terms popped up one after another. Ji Li wanted to ask but couldn’t, so he could only feign sudden understanding. “I see. That makes much more sense.”
Old Pengka grunted. “We’ve come this far—are you still not going to give your name?”
“Sorry. I’m Wang Li,” Ji Li introduced himself, the words flowing without a hint of hesitation or thought.
“Wang Li? Strange name,” Old Pengka muttered. “Let’s move. It’s almost noon and I’m starving.”
The two quickened their pace. Soon the flow of people around them thickened noticeably, and after rounding the next corner, the view opened up before Ji Li: the Frozen River flats he’d spotted earlier, teeming with people, the cries of vendors rising and falling.
“Food and Water for points! One unit for one point!”
“Buying energy! A thousand points per unit! Full units only! Don’t bother if it’s not full!”
“Buying Basic Medical Cards! Eleven thousand points!”
“The Nursery is recruiting guards! One hundred Ice Crystal Grass stalks for ten days! Paid on completion!”
“Damn it, they actually have the nerve to say ‘paid on completion’!”
“Right—like, if you die before the term’s up, they don’t have to pay at all. As if we can’t see what they’re scheming!”
Watching the two grumbling men walk off, Ji Li gave the guard-recruiter a thoughtful look.
Good news: Ice Crystal Grass really could be cultivated, and its growth period probably only took ten days.
Bad news: growing the stuff could cost you your life.
