Chapter 27

As a member of the Selection Team responsible for managing the trainees’ daily dorm life, Su Ximu stood in the left third row of the lineup and overheard the chit-chat from his colleagues around him.

One of them, an older brother who seemed to have plenty of experience, was sharing his wisdom with the others.

“Patrol the dorms at least five times every night. If you catch any trainee still awake, just—!” The honest-looking older brother made a fierce chopping motion with his hand.

He meant to deal with that kind of trainee on the spot, no mercy needed.

“During the day, conduct at least three spot checks for cleanliness. If you find any trainee who hasn’t properly cleaned the dorm, just—!”

Another vicious chop sliced through the air.

Dungeons imposed restrictions not only on players but also on the Weirds inside them—in fact, there were employee guidelines.

The two most universal rules were:

One: Only act against players who violated the rules.

Two: Maintain your persona. During dungeon operations, only behave in ways that fit your persona and job.

Those were the basics, though the strictness of enforcement varied slightly depending on the dungeon master’s personality.

Take the previous Wang Family Courtyard, for example. As the former dungeon master, Lord Wang had been the nitpicking type, so the Weirds under him acted like marionettes, forever stuck repeating those two lines.

The servants hauling night soil could only haul night soil, and the old ladies scrubbing chamber pots could only scrub chamber pots.

Compared to the Wang Family Courtyard, Tonight’s Big Star was a bit more lenient, but not by much.

From the moment everyone was called by the broadcast to gather under the neon signboard, all the staff on site felt the familiar dungeon restrictions descend.

Unless one of them had power surpassing the dungeon master, violating the employee guidelines as staff would lead to the same bad end for them.

So, this senior older brother merely used gestures to hint at the other colleagues present.

Thinking back to how those little ants had wailed and begged for mercy under his hands, the honest-faced middle-aged man suppressed his trembling body on the verge of ecstatic shudders and revealed a cruel smile.

“And remember to weigh those trainees every day. Trainees who can’t even manage themselves don’t deserve debut positions. Whatever they gained in weight, they have to give back. If they can’t puke it up, then cut the flesh…”

At that moment, a rookie newbie asked, “Brother Gao, isn’t this Tonight’s Big Star always promoted as a groundbreaking Idol Selection Show? With all your experience, where’d you get it from?”

The honest middle-aged man—Brother Gao—didn’t dodge the question. He just shrugged. “My previous boss lacked the strength. The show had been in prep for over half a year, but it fell through without investors.”

The most shameless part was that a Weird who had seen his old boss’s project plan cloned a near-identical show right after it tanked.

That was the current Tonight’s Big Star.

All his experience had been trained under that previous boss.

Unfortunately, it only found a use today.

A few colleagues chatted away without a care, but Su Ximu just listened quietly without joining in.

He even quietly shifted his position a bit, hiding slightly toward the Logistics Team in the left fourth row next door.

He exchanged a glance with the Blue 242 Leader, who had silently moved closer to him, and thought to himself: Good thing he’d met the Blue 242 Leader during his first job. Otherwise, in this second job, he definitely wouldn’t make any friends in his own group.

Thanks to some lingering bad influences from his forced past life, Su Ximu rarely acted on youthful impulses—almost never, in fact. So, he had no intention of suddenly shouting to straighten out the workplace.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling instinctively uncomfortable upon hearing things like “cut the flesh if they can’t puke it up.”

In the back row, the Selection Team and Logistics Team huddled together. Su Ximu and Blue 242 had quietly scooted right next to each other.

Blue 242 glanced ahead and gossiped softly with his good friend. “That Gao Ye was actually thrown out by his previous boss. After the project tanked, the boss started background-checking employees and found out Gao Ye tanked one gig after another. The Associate Director’s about to come toss him out.”

“How do you know, Blue 242 Leader?” Su Ximu widened his eyes, lowering his voice. Gossiping about a new colleague behind their back with his good friend for the first time felt especially thrilling.

Especially since the new colleague was right nearby.

Blue 242 gestured toward his group. “I overheard our team chatting about it just now.”

Some Logistics Team staff who knew Gao Ye had already run off to tip off the Associate Director.

Blue 242 held up five fingers.

Meaning: This Gao Ye from the Selection Team would be tossed into the sea by the Associate Director within five minutes.

Su Ximu trusted the Blue 242 Leader’s gossip, but he was a bit skeptical about the five-minute timeline.

It probably wouldn’t be that fast, right?

Then, three minutes blinked by.

From a building up ahead, the Associate Director burst out in a huff, trailed by a Logistics Team newbie. His short, fat body moved with surprising agility.

Once he got close, the Associate Director launched a flying kick at Gao Ye, who was still holding forth!

Splash!

The guy had already dropped off the deck.

“Fish him out! Tell him to scram!”

Even dying here would be bad luck!

The Associate Director came in a whirlwind and left in a whirlwind, not lingering on site for even a second.

But the shock effect was total.

At least for the time being, the new employees quieted down considerably.

After lining up to get their employee handbooks from the Associate Director’s assistant, the new employees dispersed in twos and threes to find their dorms.

Before leaving, the Selection Team staff also drew lots.

Trainee levels were divided into ABCDE, five grades total.

After kicking out one Gao Ye, the Selection Team numbers were just right—not too many, not too few.

But the Associate Director must have realized that assigning Selection Team members by trainee level might lead to uneven workloads—some with too much, some too little.

So, in the end, they divided management ranges by floor.

Su Ximu drew the third-floor dorm, neither too high nor too low, right in the middle.

The single room at the third-floor stairwell was where he’d live for the foreseeable future.

Blue 242’s dorm wasn’t far, in another staff building at the back.

Coincidentally, once Su Ximu and Blue 242 had settled into their respective rooms, the boy looked up from his dorm window and locked eyes directly with the man opposite.

Su Ximu discovered that though their dorms weren’t in the same building, their windows faced each other perfectly.

If he spoke a bit louder from his dorm window, the Blue 242 Leader across the way could hear him.

Spotting a long clothes-drying pole in the corner of the windowsill, he couldn’t resist pulling it out and extending it toward the other side.

Across the way, the man standing at his window curved his lips in a light smile, reached out, and gripped the other end of the pole firmly—like shaking hands, he even shook it up and down after grabbing hold.

“Now, if we want to pass stuff to each other at night, we can do it like this.” The boy’s eyes sparkled, as if he’d discovered some fun new game.

Blue 242 didn’t speak but responded with action. He slid a bag of snacks originally packed in his suitcase along the pole, lifting his hand slightly to send the bag over.

Su Ximu caught the snacks and, full of enthusiasm, reciprocated by sliding a bag of his own treats back to the Blue 242 Leader.

They went back and forth like that a few times until it felt about time for dinner, then stopped their somewhat childish game of you-give-me-a-snack, I’ll-give-you-one-back.

Since they hadn’t officially started work yet, aside from tidying their dorms and familiarizing themselves with the employee handbook, Su Ximu—as a Selection Team member—had plenty of free time.

Until the evening of the second day, when a group of trainees dragging large and small suitcases, name tags pinned to their chests, entered the dorm building under the lead of the Associate Director and Logistics Team staff.

A total of 104 trainees crammed into the first-floor lobby, instantly making it extremely crowded.

Su Ximu, who had seen the work schedule, knew these trainees had actually all boarded the island by boat that morning.

But they needed to do a landing interview arranged by the production team first, plus one final round of production interviews.

That’s why they arrived at the dorms so late.

Standing with the other staff and the Associate Director, Su Ximu looked at the trainees opposite and thought that the landing interviews and auditions must have really drained their physical and mental energy.

Though all the trainees on site tried their best to show excitement and thrill for the cameras, some faces still looked stiff at a glance.

Su Ximu himself wasn’t used to facing cameras either, but luckily the production team had no intention of filming the staff. Every camera in the lobby pointed squarely at the 104 trainees.

“Quiet.” The Associate Director spoke sternly through his megaphone.

The site fell instantly silent.

Satisfied, the Associate Director nodded and gestured to the Selection Team members beside him to take the trainees and settle them in.

The dorm had five floors total, averaging about twenty people per floor.

Su Ximu’s third floor got Trainees No. 43 through No. 63. After the Associate Director left, like the other Selection Team members, he tested his little megaphone with a couple taps, then raised the flag marked with a 3 and waved it at the group below.

“Trainees No. 43 to No. 63, follow me to the third floor. Each dorm has four beds. Choose your rooms freely.”

In the lineup, Trainee No. 42—Rao Fei—gaped in shock at the boy waving the flag ahead, feeling like he shared some inexplicable fate with this bigshot.

He glanced at Wang Xingxing, who had coincidentally been assigned alone to the third floor.

Truth be told, for this dungeon, the Central Bureau’s two cool expert bros were just there to make up numbers. Their biggest hope for getting Bureau Chief Lin through the dungeon rested on Wang Xingxing.

Before becoming a player, the guy had been hailed as an ace trainee, after all.

But now, this ace C-position had split off alone. And he’d been assigned to the hands of an unknown, unpredictable factor.

With no time to warn Wang Xingxing properly, before being led away by the second-floor Selection Team member, Rao Fei could only gesture like slitting a chicken’s throat at Wang Xingxing, who had turned to look at him:

You! Up front! That one!

Is! A! Bigshot!

Be! Careful!

He! Plays dungeons! Without! Looking at rules!

Kills you! Definitely! No need! To look either!

Wang Xingxing, who wasn’t great at deciphering codes: ? You mean… I’m gonna die? Killed by the one up front?

Ah… Am I dying this fast? Can’t I struggle a bit more?