"It's you?" Chao Musheng recognized the four somewhat familiar girls. "Your training is over—why haven't you gone back?"
The four girls smiled awkwardly and gestured for them to sit nearby. "Our hometown has poor conditions, so we wanted to stay here and earn some money first before returning."
They were afraid Chao Musheng would press further and expose them, but for some reason, he didn’t. Instead, he nodded in agreement. "That’s a good idea."
The barbecue stall was enveloped in the mouthwatering aroma of cumin. The four girls worked efficiently, managing every customer smoothly in this bustling, chaotic night market.
Chao Musheng and his group had ordered a lot of skewers, and Wan You couldn’t handle it alone. One of the girls stepped in to help with the grilling.
Over the grill, the girl glanced toward where Chao Musheng was sitting. He clinked glasses with his friends, laughing heartily, his eyes sparkling like stars—enough to make passersby turn their heads.
If she were still the girl from before entering the instance, she might have stopped in her tracks for such a handsome boy.
Ever since being stranded in this world, she had grown increasingly convinced that this was a real place. Otherwise, how could an NPC break free from their instance and wander around freely?
The System would never allow such an NPC to exist.
Every customer at the barbecue stall, every passerby, had their own joys and sorrows—they weren’t just mindless puppets following the System’s commands.
Two months ago, they had failed to earn enough favorability points in the instance and hadn’t retrieved the student roster. On the final day of the mission, just before dawn, the System had declared their task a failure.
When the System withdrew, she had been certain she would die. The despair and terror of that moment still haunted her—she didn’t dare recall it.
For someone who wanted to live, death was the greatest fear.
She didn’t know why she had survived the System’s purge, but ever since then, the System had vanished.
Even if she couldn’t go home, as long as she was alive, there was hope.
The only problem was that life was tough right now—no money, no ID, and too afraid to check at the police station whether she even had legal documentation.
She didn’t know how Wan You had managed to get an ID in this world or why he had stayed to study at Jinghua University, but with him as their only connection, they could scrape by.
At least compared to struggling in terror through one instance after another, she preferred this life.
"Xiao Chao, you and Boss Wan are pretty close, huh?" After a few glasses of ice-cold beer, the senior colleague opened up. "We’ve eaten here several times, and Boss Wan has never given us a discount."
Boss Wan was skilled, and his ingredients were fresh—his only flaw was being stingy. He wouldn’t let a single cent slide when settling the bill.
"Since you’re treating today, Boss Wan giving a discount is just saving you money." Brother Li refilled the senior’s glass. "Our Xiao Chao is really something."
Chao Musheng stayed silent, quietly eating his skewers. He didn’t like drinking—if he responded, his colleagues would egg him on until he was drunk.
His colleagues weren’t exaggerating—the barbecue made by Wan You and the four girls was truly delicious.
The chicken wings were tender and flavorful, the beef fragrant and juicy, and even their homemade chilled plum juice was better than anywhere else.
Wan You brought over a plate of freshly grilled lamb skewers and set it in front of the senior. "Thanks for always supporting our business. These are on the house."
He glanced at Chao Musheng, who was happily gnawing on a chicken wing, clearly satisfied with his cooking.
Hmph.
Wan You lifted his chin proudly—his skills were just that impressive.
The senior’s mood was complicated. The stingy Boss Wan was actually willing to give them free lamb skewers? Was this the power of being the professor’s favorite?
After the barbecue, some colleagues were already tipsy. Chao Musheng and the sober ones helped the drunk into taxis before he prepared to take the bus home alone.
"Chao Musheng." Wan You called out to him and shoved a large bottle of homemade plum juice into his hands. "For you."
"I really shouldn’t accept this," he said, though his hands had already firmly taken the bottle. "Will you be running this stall all summer?"
"Yeah, the foot traffic here is good. People who work late like coming here to drink and unwind." Wan You glanced at Chao Musheng, whose shoes were still spotless, then adjusted his own apron, stained with grease and smoke. "It’s decent money."
"That must be exhausting."
Running a barbecue stall required a lot of prep—buying ingredients, washing and cutting meat, seasoning, skewering—all of it time-consuming and labor-intensive.
Chao Musheng remembered when Wan You had first arrived at the university—he couldn’t even make his bed properly and would tear up at the slightest thing. Who would’ve thought he’d choose such a grueling way to earn money?
Wan You had expected Chao Musheng to politely promise to patronize his business in the future or look at him with pity. Instead, he simply—almost admiringly—said it must be hard.
Hard?
Now he was studying at the top university, his tuition waived because of his poverty. No classmates mocked him for being poor or scrawny, and even the sunlight that touched him every day felt golden.
He looked up at Chao Musheng. "This is good enough for me."
"With skills like yours, it’d be a shame to quit just because it’s tough." Chao Musheng hefted the heavy bottle of plum juice. "On the way here, my colleagues wouldn’t stop praising your barbecue. If you ever quit after graduating, they’d be devastated."
Wan You raised an eyebrow. Well, too bad—he couldn’t run a barbecue stall forever.
But if Chao Musheng ever wanted to eat, maybe—if he was in a good mood—he’d cook something special for him.
What could he say? He was just that kind.
When Xiaojuan stepped out of the company building, she felt completely drained.
She’d rather fight monsters under the moonlight than deal with these ridiculous clients.
The ones who screamed that Kunlun Enterprises’ products were trash—only to realize they’d forgotten to plug them in.
The ones who swore the company had deleted their order records—despite having no proof—and demanded full refunds.
The ones who yelled at her for ten minutes over a failed payment—only for the issue to be their own insufficient balance.
And the drunk ones who harassed her over the phone, then threw tantrums and threatened bad reviews when she snapped back.
No wonder this was a high-level instance crawling with golden-tier NPCs—the sheer number of lunatics here was nauseating.
[Player, please take Bus 114 to Linxi Bridge Station.]
The platform was empty. The bus route displayed ten stops between here and Linxi Bridge.
"Bus 114…" Ze muttered. "Jie, that route number sounds cursed."
"Shut up." Xiaojuan didn’t even glance at him. "If you hadn’t screwed up and gotten chewed out by the supervisor, we wouldn’t be leaving this late."
She hadn’t wanted to wait for him, but if this idiot tried to move alone, he wouldn’t survive the night.
Ze didn’t dare argue with Xiaojuan, hunching his back as he flashed her an ingratiating smile.
A few minutes later, a green-shelled bus pulled up to the stop, its body clearly marked with the black-painted numbers "114."
The doors slid open, revealing a brightly lit interior—empty of passengers and, more unsettlingly, devoid of a driver.
"A g-ghost bus?" Ze’s legs trembled so badly he could barely stand, yet he didn’t dare disobey the system’s orders. He wobbled helplessly, unable to climb aboard.
Xiaojuan dragged him onto the bus and tossed him into a seat.
"Welcome to Bus 114. Please swipe your card, scan your code, or insert coins."
A mechanical voice echoed through the cabin. Xiaojuan clutched a defensive item tightly in her hand as she cautiously approached the fare box.
The coins clinked into the transparent bottom of the box—no eerie creatures emerged, no sudden sprouting of grotesque tentacles.
Her hypervigilance made her seem almost paranoid.
Bus 114 continued its journey, stopping again minutes later to admit a man with blood-red eyes and crimson streaks trailing from his nose and mouth.
He stood frozen at the doorway, his gaze locked onto Xiaojuan and Ze with unsettling intensity.
Ze was too terrified to make a sound. When he saw Xiaojuan retrieve a high-level exorcism talisman from her system inventory, pinched firmly between her fingers, he grabbed her arm. "Sis, don’t act yet—this ghost is in a neutral yellow state right now."
The air inside the bus grew thick with tension. The ghost remained motionless at the entrance, while Xiaojuan and Ze stayed on high alert.
A driverless bus moving on its own through the night, now with a bloodied specter blocking the door—what player wouldn’t be terrified?
"Excuse me, could you move aside a bit?"
The sudden voice was like a divine melody shattering the suffocating silence.
"Ah, sorry ‘bout that, bro." The ghost turned to the newcomer, pulling a mask from his pocket and slipping it on before stepping aside. "Rushed off work and forgot to wipe off the makeup."
At this hour, this route was usually empty. Seeing two people already onboard—and clearly spooked by his appearance—he’d hesitated to move further in.
"Ch-Chao…" Ze gaped at Chao Musheng, who’d boarded after the ghost and somehow made it retreat without a fight. His voice failed him mid-sentence.
"Working late too?" Xiaojuan stashed the talisman back into her system space. "First day and already pulling overtime—your coworkers aren’t cutting you any slack."
If her rival could stroll past a ghost unfazed, why should she show fear?
Absolutely unthinkable.
Ze tugged at Xiaojuan’s sleeve. Sis, shut up! This Chao Musheng might not even be a player!
Xiaojuan swatted his hand away and shot him a glare.
Holding me back during the day was bad enough—now you want me to lose face in front of the competition?
Ze: "…"
Sis, you’re truly fearless.
"Too?"
Chao Musheng studied the two—their haggard faces and hollow, work-drained eyes—and smiled without comment, taking a seat three rows away.
Xiaojuan glanced between him and the empty driver’s seat, baffled. How is he not the least bit curious about why there’s no driver?
Or is he just so powerful that this bus’s weirdness doesn’t faze him?
It was late. Worried about disturbing his parents, Chao Musheng fished out his keys to check them before tucking them back into his pocket.
After hearing about a fire in a neighboring building—where a faulty smart lock nearly turned deadly—his family had switched back to traditional mechanical locks.
He knew electronic locks had manual overrides, but for his parents’ peace of mind (and household harmony), he’d quietly accepted the change.
Some things weren’t worth arguing over.
Wait—what was that just now?
An S-tier item?
Two of them?!
Just casually hanging off his keychain?
No way. Impossible.
Xiaojuan squeezed her eyes shut. Must be my imagination.
What kind of background does he have to flaunt stuff like that?
Is he not afraid of getting robbed by other players—or targeted by Bosses?
No more passengers boarded, leaving the bus eerily quiet.
Chao Musheng’s phone rang—Father Chao calling.
"Dad, I’ll be back in about twenty minutes." He held the phone to his ear, cradling the iced plum juice Wan You had given him in his other hand. "Drinks? I’ve got some chilled plum juice a friend gave me. Want to try it with Mom?"
Xiaojuan’s ears perked up.
Players in this dungeon are all supposed to be out-of-towners renting and job-hunting. How does he have parents here?
Cheating. Has to be.
Ze grew restless. Whether it was paranoia or not, the bus felt unnaturally slow—over half an hour onboard, and they’d only passed five or six stops.
The doors opened and closed repeatedly, but the people at each stop just stood there, indifferent. No one approached; no one got on.
He could’ve sworn some even made eye contact, meaning they could see the bus.
At 11:40 PM, Bus 114 finally reached Linxi Bridge Station.
"Linxi Bridge Station. Please mind your step and exit through the rear doors."
The emotionless announcement played again. Xiaojuan stood, pulling Ze along as they disembarked—only to notice their rival stepping off too.
"You live in Happiness Community too?"
Across from the stop lay Happiness Community, its name a cruel joke. The gate was dilapidated, the neon sign for "Happiness" half-dark, leaving only the characters for "dirt" and "field" faintly visible in the night.
"No, I live across the street." Chao Musheng took in their exhausted faces and added kindly, "Don’t take this bus tomorrow."
If not for the beer smell clinging to him—needing time to fade—he wouldn’t have chosen this route either.
Here it comes!
Ze instantly perked up. The classic NPC clue-drop moment!
He yanked Xiaojuan’s sleeve from behind, signaling her to not speak now.
Across the street?
Xiaojuan wasn’t planning to reply anyway—she was too busy staring at the opposing complex.
Its grand entrance, uniformed guards in crisp white, and dazzling lights amidst lush greenery practically screamed luxury.
Next to it, Happiness Community looked like it had been dug out of a landfill.
So he lives somewhere fancier and gets better treatment at work?
Whatever. Laugh all you want—I don’t care.
Surviving this dungeon and claiming the rewards is the only win that matters.
"This bus is part of a trial run for driverless vehicles. For safety, its speed’s set low. With Jing City’s morning traffic, even leaving at 6 AM might not get you to work on time."
Chao Musheng was in a hurry; the plum juice wouldn’t stay cold much longer.
A driverless bus?
Az suddenly realized why there was no driver—no wonder he thought it was haunted.
He glanced back at the sluggish No. 114 bus, which hadn’t gone far yet, and saw the ghostly figure from earlier pressed against the rear window, its blood-red eyes wide open, staring fixedly at them.
When their gazes met, the ghost suddenly grinned, flashing him a sinister smile.
Az let out a terrified yelp, jumping three feet in the air before instinctively darting to Chao Musheng’s side. "Bro Chao, save me!"
Chao Musheng looked up at the retreating bus just in time to see the man at the rear window quickly pull his head back.
At this sight, he sighed helplessly. That guy on the bus really had a twisted sense of humor, scaring someone like that.
He patted Az’s shoulder reassuringly. "Don’t worry, he was just messing with you."
The hand on his shoulder was warm and steady, and in that moment, Az suddenly found Chao Musheng incredibly kind, approachable, and radiating an overwhelming sense of security.
Just one glance from him could make ghosts flee in terror.
So what if he was an NPC and not a player?
He could still be Az’s savior in this dungeon.
It was all Az’s fault for being so narrow-minded, judging people with preconceptions.
Sure, NPCs in the dungeon world literally had color in his eyes, but no matter what, Chao Musheng could never be wrong.
Xiaojuan frowned in displeasure when she saw Az turning to her rival for help in his moment of fear.
What was wrong with this useless idiot? Couldn’t he tell who was really in charge?
"Musheng!" Father Chao emerged from the supermarket carrying a large watermelon, spotting his son chatting with a young man and woman from a distance. He waved cheerfully. "Over here!"
"Dad?" Chao Musheng waved back before turning to the other two. "My family’s waiting for me. I’ll head back first. See you later."
Xiaojuan studied the man standing at the supermarket entrance, his eyes shining as he gazed at Chao Musheng—filled with affection, pride, and the unique love only parents have for their child.
Though no one had ever looked at her that way, she inexplicably knew that the man was regarding Chao Musheng like a priceless treasure.
"Musheng, are these new friends of yours?" Father Chao quickly stepped forward, taking the plum juice from Chao Musheng’s hands. He nodded politely at Az and Xiaojuan before steering his son toward their neighborhood. "It’s so hot out, and you reek of barbecue. Hurry home, shower, and get some rest."
"They’re just fellow interns who joined the company around the same time as me." Chao Musheng eyed Father Chao suspiciously. "Dad, did you and Mom sneak out to eat something good while I wasn’t home?"
"Nonsense! Do you really think your mom and I would do that?" Father Chao shook the plum juice in his hand. "Which friend gave you all this? They’re quite generous."
Chao Musheng crossed his arms and huffed. "Changing the subject, huh? Feeling guilty?"
Father Chao smacked him lightly on the back. "Enough chatter. Let’s go. If we’re late, your mom will scold me, and you’ll be next."
"Mom would never scold me."
The father and son, their features bearing a faint resemblance, bickered playfully as they walked away. Xiaojuan stood rooted in place, staring blankly at the scene.
"Jie," Az waved a hand in front of her face. "What’s with the daze?"
"Thinking about how far I can throw you," Xiaojuan snapped, reminded of Az’s cowardly scramble toward Chao Musheng earlier. "Go find your ‘Bro Chao.’ Don’t bother me."
Az hurried after her. "Jie, you’re the only one I acknowledge in this dungeon. I’ll be your loyal lackey!"
Xiaojuan scoffed. "Go be Chao’s lackey instead."
"Bro Chao’s different from you."
"How?" Xiaojuan’s eyebrows shot up. "You think he’s stronger than me?"
"He’s a native of this dungeon. We’re players." Az flashed his signature ingratiating smile. "How could we be the same?"
"Maybe we should both be Bro Chao’s lackeys?" Az thought the idea was brilliant. "He definitely seems powerful."
Xiaojuan recalled the resemblance between Chao Musheng and Father Chao. "No wonder."
Az blinked. "No wonder what?"
No wonder Chao Musheng survived in the technical department and got along so well with NPCs—he was a native. That explained everything.
As long as she was in a dungeon, no player could possibly outshine her.
"Lackeys? Disgraceful!" Xiaojuan snorted. "Have some pride."
The next morning, as Chao Musheng stepped out of the neighborhood, he spotted Xiaojuan standing at the intersection, holding a bag of breakfast and beaming at him.
"Good morning, Bro Chao! Lovely weather, isn’t it?" Her eyes curved even more than her hair as she smiled. "You must not have eaten yet, right? I bought extra. Here, have some."
Making friends with a native—could that really be called being a lackey?
No, it was ideological progress!
