Qi Xu casually ordered another seafood porridge, "That should be enough. Let me see if it tastes as good as my little brother’s cooking. How much?"
The squirrel server immediately replied respectfully, "That will be 38,227 points in total."
The working monkey beside them explained, "One Survival Coin equals 10,000 points."
Only then did Qi Xu understand. "Can I pay with Survival Coins then?"
"Of course!"
Qi Xu handed the squirrel four Survival Coins. "Keep the change as a tip."
The squirrel server’s eyes sparkled. "Thank you!"
"You’re welcome. For someone as diligent and adorable as you, a little service fee is only fair."
The working monkey noticed... this scrap collector was truly generous—to everyone! And so smooth with words too!
Human players didn’t seem as despicable as they were made out to be. So where exactly did things go wrong?
The food arrived quickly. Qi Xu didn’t have to wait long before all the dishes were served.
She ate with relish, completely unrestrained, sampling each dish one by one. Finding the flavors quite satisfying, she proceeded to order almost everything else on the menu to take away.
The Chinese Master Chef’s cooking was delicious too, but it leaned more toward traditional Chinese cuisine. A change of taste now and then wasn’t bad.
After finishing her meal at a leisurely pace, Qi Xu took a stroll around the castle. Preparations for the evening’s banquet were underway, and all the staff seemed exceptionally busy.
Occasionally, she spotted other players at work—trimming trees, cleaning the castle’s exterior, or even being trained in reception etiquette by cat-like monsters...
Not wanting to invite trouble, Qi Xu kept her distance, only glancing from afar.
Once her food had settled, she slowly made her way back to her work area.
She had cleared five "garbage rooms" filled with food in the morning. Now, in the afternoon, it was time to tackle the five rooms opposite.
Pushing open the door with anticipation, Qi Xu immediately noticed a faintly pungent smell—not foul, but more like a mix of various medicinal solutions—even through her mask.
The room’s layout was nothing like before, where spacious shelves had dominated. Instead, it resembled a pharmacy, with a large experimental table in the center and medicinal ingredients stored in small compartments lining the walls.
Each compartment was labeled with dates.
For some reason, Qi Xu’s heart began pounding violently. Suppressing her curiosity, she pretended nonchalance as she circled the room, examining the dates on each small box.
"January 2030 to December 2045."
Qi Xu remembered... the Survival Game had begun right after New Year’s Day in 2030. So... what was this later date supposed to mean?
A chill ran down her spine. For a moment, she wondered if she hadn’t just restarted the game but had instead entered some kind of cycle—a loop.
Otherwise, how could so many dates from the future exist here? There was no rational explanation.
Not daring to linger too long, Qi Xu forced herself into action. She opened the first compartment, finding nothing but a pile of small, blackened pills.
"Expired cold medicine: All medicinal properties have dissipated. Trash. I won’t take it."
Pills dated January 2030—barely a month or two into the Survival Game—yet already completely devoid of efficacy? Labeled as expired?
Qi Xu’s expression remained perfectly calm, as if she hadn’t noticed the oddity. She proceeded mechanically—destroying what needed to be destroyed, cleaning what needed cleaning—working with meticulous precision.
But only she knew the truth: her back was drenched in sweat, her hair standing on end, her limbs stiff with tension.
By the time she finished clearing the room, not a single usable pill remained. Some had expired long ago, their medicinal properties entirely gone. Others were defective or failed experiments. Unlike food, flawed medicine could be deadly if ingested.
Still, there was an unexpected takeaway. Qi Xu realized her previous understanding of the Survival Game had been too shallow, too simplistic. Many things now demanded reevaluation.
Was reaching the end of the road really just a matter of walking forward relentlessly? Before, Qi Xu had been uncertain. Now... she knew it couldn’t be that simple. But the clues were still too few.
The next few rooms were far more ordinary.
Worn tablecloths, used chairs and stools, candlesticks, silverware... Qi Xu had little use for these, but tossing them felt wasteful. After a moment’s hesitation, she collected them anyway, jotting down "0.01" in her notebook.
They might come in handy someday for putting on a show.
The remaining rooms were much the same, offering little of value.
It was now the banquet’s third night.
When Qi Xu returned to the cafeteria for dinner, she immediately noticed the players’ expressions—now a mix of despair and exhaustion.
She guessed their supplies had been nearly depleted.
In her last playthrough, some curious player had done the math after this dungeon ended. The number of players who’d suffered losses far outweighed those who’d gained anything.
The castle was alive with activity that night.
But Qi Xu was just a scrap collector. Her access was limited, confined mostly to work areas.
Gazing at the distant glow of lights, surrounded by piles of junk and discarded items, Qi Xu felt an odd sense of comfort.
No time for distractions—just roll up her sleeves and get to work!
In the following days, Qi Xu didn’t win the "Employee of the Day" title again. But she wasn’t too disappointed. The honors went to the Chinese Master Chef and the Retired Magical Boy—one praised by all the guests, the other complimented by the princess.
Qi Xu would’ve loved to butter up the princess too, but as a scrap collector, she couldn’t even get near the banquet area, let alone meet her.
Now lying in bed, Qi Xu toyed with the Advanced Special Five-Colored Space Stone in her hand. Its internal space spanned nearly a thousand square meters, half of which was stasis storage—perfect for food preservation with some added shelves.
What a treasure. Who wouldn’t want something like this?
Especially since Qi Xu was in dire need of it.
Only now, in her calm state, did it occur to her...
This haul was too much. With so many different kinds of food stuffed into her backpack... there weren’t enough slots.
So she’d been mulling over whether to splurge and acquire this Advanced Space Stone, given how many Survival Coins she now had.
The Advanced Space Stone allowed three entries per day, with a maximum stay of two hours each time—far more practical than the basic version.
Upgrading step by step would require 33 basic space stones plus various energy stones and colored crystals.
Why bother with the grind when you could leap straight to the top?
That night, Qi Xu had planned to work overtime. After all, she’d slept well the previous night, and her health and fatigue stats were both in good shape.
But there was no work left!
.........
