Chapter 4: Eno: Well, Breakfast Saved

One second passed.

The parking lot stayed calm; nothing before him changed in the slightest.

One minute passed.

Ji Li stood bathed in the sunset’s afterglow, hands resting on the cardboard box, as a voice seemed to echo in his ears—

Are you an idiot?

“Damn it!”

Furious at his own imagination, Ji Li sulked a moment, then, unwilling to give up, opened the box, took out the ham sausages and braised eggs, left only the instant noodles, and used the skill again.

The instant “Copy” left his lips, two beams of blue light shot from his palms, sweeping over the box like X-rays before converging and scattering ahead of it, sketching the box’s outline in the air at incredible speed.

In the blink of an eye, the lines solidified, and an identical box materialized right beside the original.

Joy surged in Ji Li’s chest—then immediately tensed again as he reached toward the new box with trembling hands.

Success or failure hinged on this… It worked!

Ji Li leapt straight up and ran a victory lap around his Safe House.

His theory was right! Put items in a container, and the skill treated the whole thing as one unit and duplicated it all!

Only—it wasn’t items of the same type, as he’d first assumed. They had to be the same item.

What about different specifications, then?

Ji Li opened the Safe House’s trunk, carried out that half case of mineral water, put the water he’d brought into it, and used the skill.

No response.

After a thought, he took out the beverages, left only the mineral water of different specifications, and used the skill again.

Still no response.

Different specs didn’t work either?

Ji Li took out the small bottles, left only the 600ml bottles of a different brand, and murmured, “Copy.”

Not a flicker.

“It’s THAT strict? Different brands don’t even count?”

Refusing to believe it, Ji Li peeled the labels off every bottle and tried once more.

Still nothing.

“…Unbelievable.”

Ji Li rolled his eyes, took out the differently packaged bottles, and ran the final experiment.

He picked up one bottle, unscrewed the cap, screwed it back on, returned it to the box, and duplicated.

Skill use failed.

Ji Li took that bottle out, opened the camp tableware set, set the gas stove boiling water for his noodles, and mentally reviewed the Duplication Skill’s restrictions.

Twice a day only. Identical items in identical condition, placed in the same closed container, would be treated as one whole by the skill.

One use left today…

Reviewing his supplies, Ji Li finally decided to spend this precious last use on underwear.

Stone-faced, he tore open a pack of instant noodles, finding absolutely nothing wrong with this decision.

Sure, there was still that huge unsearched building not far away, and schools were resource-rich grinding spots—but who keeps underwear at their work desk? And there was a whole crowd of players at the school.

Rather than gamble on things he didn’t have yet, better to satisfy the present. The skill would reset tomorrow anyway.

Mainly, the hygiene habits his mother had drilled into him since childhood simply could not tolerate two days in the same underwear. Food and water weren’t scarce right now, so better to duplicate early, wash a pair tonight, and have a fresh one tomorrow.

With the noodles steeping, Ji Li dropped his pants on the spot, duplicated his underwear in a few moves, pulled his pants back up, grabbed a bottle of water, and ran for the restroom.

He scrubbed the underwear clean with hand soap, hung it on a neighboring car’s window frame with a hook, then cradled his instant noodles, generously adding a sausage and a braised egg, and enjoyed a proper feast.

Fed and watered, and with daylight still left, Ji Li resumed scavenging, turning the right parking lot inside out. Everything he turned up was tissues, throw pillows, mineral water, sunglasses, or window-smashing hammers—the only surprise being two more power banks.

Plugging the power banks into the neighboring car to charge and hauling all useful supplies into the Gatehouse, Ji Li took the High-Powered Flashlight and two bottles of mineral water to the restroom to wash up.

Face washed, he popped a piece of gum in his mouth and, chewing, eyes on his phone, walked back to his Safe House.

It wasn’t even nine. How was he supposed to sleep?

Ji Li muttered, lowering his phone—and looked up straight into a pair of bean eyes.

At some point the little robot had left its Charging Dock and was standing by the driver’s window, gazing up at him longingly.

Ji Li blinked—and only then remembered he owned such a high-end toy!

Who said the right parking lot had no SSR? Wasn’t this one right here!

Ji Li eagerly pulled open the car door, climbed in, and tentatively poked the little robot’s big head with a finger.

One poke, and the bean eyes became ＞＜, sweat drops crowding around them as the little thing let out whimpering sounds, for all the world like a bullied little wife.

Ji Li burst out laughing, petting its head one moment, taking off its headphones to fiddle with the next, driving the little robot in circles as it emitted one protest sound effect after another.

In the process, Ji Li noticed the robot’s responses were extremely quick, with no lag at all—completely unlike the videos he’d seen.

In those videos, such robots were slow; voice control required the strict format of “robot’s name plus command.”

And he didn’t even know this robot’s model. He’d never once called its name, and it had shown no command-recognition response either.

Could this robot have built-in motion tracking and eye recognition? Was that a function a toy should have?

Curiosity blazing, Ji Li picked up the robot and searched it over for a model number.

Suddenly hoisted into the air, the little robot wailed, sound effects flying everywhere, stubby feet kicking, bean eyes flickering between ＞＜ and @@.

After this manhandling, the sounds abruptly stopped. The little guy’s feet went limp, the expression on its big head settling into ￣￣, hanging lifeless from Ji Li’s hand like it had accepted its fate.

Seeing that dead-to-the-world expression, Ji Li, holding back laughter, set it back on the center console. After a moment’s thought, he gave a direct command.

“Dance.”

Little robot: [⊙⊙]

Little robot: [￣￣]

Little robot: [￣￣]=3

Little robot: ┗[￣￣]┓

Ji Li: “…”

So THIS is what they mean by “washing underwear with a deadpan face,” huh.

“Impressive, huh? Even voice recognition?” Ji Li stroked his chin. “Then… sing a song.”

Little robot: ┗[⊙⊙]┓

Little robot: [••]=3

Little robot: Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo-doo~

Ji Li: “…”

Why did this feel like the helpless exasperation of coaxing a toddler?

“Okay, okay, that’s enough.” Petting the little robot’s head, Ji Li murmured to himself, “Couldn’t find your model number, so I don’t know what to call you. How about I give you a name? What do you say?”

Little robot: [⊙⊙]!

Little robot: [☆☆]

“That happy, huh? Let me think…” Ji Li cast his mind back to the desktop robot videos he’d watched.

“Since you look so much like the EMO robots from back home, might as well name you after them. Hmm… to avoid copyright trouble—the real one’s called EMO, so how about I call you Eno? You know, Eno. Deal?”

Little robot: [^^]～✿ฺ

“Glad you like it. Well then, Eno—looking forward to working with you~”

Ji Li brushed Eno’s cheek with a fingertip and received a chilly little nuzzle that somehow still tugged at the heart.

Eno: [˘˘]

That humanized gesture of affection was like a beam of light from normal human society, soothing the unease lurking deep in Ji Li’s heart.

He didn’t know why the Game had chosen him. He was just an ordinary, poor college student—a little clever, but not hard-hearted enough, and clearly naive about how vicious an apocalypse could be.

More fatally, though he’d stumbled into a Mobile Safe House, he couldn’t drive at all.

Born in October, Ji Li hadn’t yet turned eighteen when he got into college, so his parents had decided to wait until the summer after freshman year to send him for driving lessons.

Then the accident came, and a car crash took them both.

To keep the home he’d grown up in, Ji Li had worked himself ragged paying the mortgage, stretching every penny into two. When would he ever have had the time or money to learn to drive?

Now he’d been kidnapped by the Game, and his savings would only cover half a year of mortgage payments. Within a year at most, the bank would take the house.

And with it, the last keepsake his parents had left him would vanish into smoke.

Ji Li slumped over the steering wheel, poking Eno’s face at idle intervals, poking until it giggled.

Suddenly he poked hard enough to topple Eno over, growling under his breath: “One of these days, I’m going to flip this whole Game! See how it likes kidnapping people!”

Eno: [＞＜]?

The next morning, Ji Li crawled out of the back seat rubbing his sore lower back, heavy shadows under his eyes.

All last night he’d either banged his head or kicked his leg, waking with every turn, then taking ages to find a comfortable position again.

After a whole night of that, Ji Li had had enough—up before six, rinsing his mouth madly with water.

Today he was claiming that cot!

Why suffer for suffering’s sake? Any more sleeping like this and it would actually kill him!

Washed up, Ji Li chewed his gum, took a pack of instant noodles from the box, and mentally planned today’s skill uses.

If nothing new turned up, he’d duplicate braised eggs twice, to guarantee protein intake.

He hoped he’d find vitamins or fiber crackers soon, or eating like this would mean constipation.

Stuff like that should be plentiful in offices. Later he’d scout around that building first and loot what he could; if not, he’d go to the school and find the Suit Guy.

And yesterday’s mysterious zombie disappearance needed investigating too, or he’d never feel at ease…

Ji Li was staring at the gas stove, having just finished plotting his route, when a Virtual Screen suddenly popped up.

【Daily Quest issued: Zombie Cores】

【Quest Requirement: Submit at least ten Zombie Cores to the Game System】

【Quest Reward: One day of supplies, 10 Points per Core, System Shop unlocked】

【Quest Failure Penalty: Deduct 10% of Safe House maximum Defense Value】

“Ten percent?!”

“Safe House!”

Ji Li hurriedly opened the Safe House interface. At the sight of that Defense Value of 70, his vision went dark.

Ten percent of the maximum was 7 points. Ten days and it would be wiped to zero!

He didn’t know how Defense Value actually played out in practice, but when it hit zero, the Safe House disappeared!

In an apocalypse, an upgradable Safe House was as good as your life!

“I KNEW this crappy game was up to no good!”

Slamming the gas stove off, Ji Li grabbed the club he’d killed zombies with yesterday and stormed toward the Gatehouse.

Two steps in, he stopped, turned back to the car for a face mask, dug out the Folding Knife he’d found in the metal locker, silently chanting in my head, in my head, it has to stay in my head, and headed for the corpse dump.

Soon, two zombies in security uniforms came into view, lying atop each other like two good buddies, their heads like two shattered watermelons.

Holding his breath, Ji Li prodded the zombie heads with the club tip from as far away as he could. Finding the cracks not wide enough, he smashed them a couple more times.

But even after turning everything over, nothing resembling a Core turned up.

Ji Li looked speechlessly at the sky, gave himself a moment of mental preparation, drew the Folding Knife, rolled up his sleeves, and got to work.

A few minutes later, from the throat of one zombie, he extracted a translucent deep-red crystal.

Shaped like an irregular crystal, only as big as a thumb knuckle, it was buried between the blood vessels and muscles of the throat.

Finding it had been pure luck.

Ji Li wasn’t a med student, but he knew the heart was caged behind ribs—prying it open would be brutally hard—so he’d figured he’d start with easier parts, like the abdomen and throat.

Who knew he’d actually stumbled onto the right answer.

Copying the method, he dug out the second core. Looking at the unrecognizable corpses on the ground, Ji Li gave a bitter laugh.

“Well, breakfast saved… BLEURGH!”

“Points… Shop…”

A barely audible voice rose in the room. The middle-aged woman hugged her knees in the corner, her gaze shifting from the Virtual Screen to the window shattered into a spiderweb.

Outside, dozens of zombies wandered nearby, encircling her position as tightly as an Asteroid Belt—no one dared approach, and those inside couldn’t get out.

And at the very center of that Asteroid Belt, a dozen-odd zombies lay fallen beneath the window and by the door, their hollow eye sockets empty of eyeballs.