The official suggested that everyone move in teams, and only announcements for voluntarily registered squads were posted. The administrative hall quickly saw a large wave of players spontaneously signing up.
A gaunt middle-aged man with a slight accent held a megaphone and shouted, “Don’t push, don’t shove! Form a proper line! Over here, over here, fewer people—those leaving the safe zone to join battles, please register first. Elderly folks, you can wait a moment!”
He waded through the crowd alone, moving against the flow like a piece of driftwood being tossed about, weaving his way through and maintaining order.
He Ning was about to join the line when Yi Luo grabbed him. “Come with me. Internal personnel register elsewhere.”
“This isn’t for just anyone. Only internal personnel and their families…” Yi Luo deliberately paused, successfully making He Ning frown, then continued, “…and special personnel.”
He Wuning followed Yi Luo with a straight face, his eyes scanning behind this “light of humanity,” calculating where to kick to leave the clearest footprint.
Had those who bragged about him on the forums ever actually seen him?
Yi Luo, unaware that his prized backside nearly got harmed, led He Wuning past the crowd and into the building.
Inside, the hall was far quieter than outside. Most of the people moving about wore uniforms or combat gear like Yi Luo’s. The moment Yi Luo stepped in, someone called out, “Brother Yi, have you decided on your squad yet? So many people are waiting for you to register! Hurry up!”
Yi Luo chuckled and turned to He Wuning, showing off, “See that?”
“I’m popular. Not a loss for you.”
He Wuning ignored him with a cold expression. Q-chan excitedly looked around, “Look, sweetie! Another system over there!”
He Wuning followed its gesture to see a young staff member typing rapidly on a keyboard. In the corner of the desk was a cage holding a system that looked like a block of butter, sticking out two short legs with a look of utter despair.
Q-chan mournfully whimpered, “Why keep it in a cage?”
Yi Luo shrugged. “Because we still don’t know what this game is planning. To prevent systems from stealing confidential info, they’re put in the shield device during work hours.”
Q-chan protested, “We wouldn’t do such a thing!”
He Wuning considered thoughtfully, “You sell cages like this…?”
Q-chan panicked, “Sweetie, what dangerous idea are you thinking of!”
“No,” Yi Luo showed a hint of regret. “Only internal personnel can apply, though maybe you could get one with a report.”
He Wuning hated writing reports, and since monster strategies were dictated by him and typed by Xue Xun, he let it go, sparing Q-chan.
Yi Luo led He Wuning into the registration hall. A sea of eyes turned to them, and He Wuning instinctively stopped.
“Look all you want, it won’t change anything.”
Yi Luo met their gazes and silently pushed them back, then walked to the registrar, tapping the desk. “Register, please.”
“Sure!” the registrar quickly entered the info, admiration in their eyes. “Brother Yi, you really got He Wuning on board—uh, I mean, in your team!”
Yi Luo grinned and glanced at the form. “We need a team name?”
He looked at He Wuning. “You have good taste—name it.”
He Wuning remembered Yi Luo’s previous comment on his milk tea car and sensed mischief.
Expressionless, he said, “Life or death.”
Yi Luo: “…Alright, that works.”
The registrar choked. “That’s too ominous! I should get in trouble for this. How about ‘Together in Life and Death’?”
He Wuning didn’t even have time to refuse before Yi Luo shook his head. “Not much better than the first. The superstitious old men will still freak out at that big ‘Death’ character.”
Registrar scratched their head. “Then how about ‘All in the Same Boat’?”
He Wuning was speechless. Yi Luo shrugged, “Let’s just use that—don’t make it harder. Keep changing it and it’ll become ‘Sharing the Same Bed.’”
He Wuning: “......”
They finished registration and actually received a team certificate. The registrar advised, “Theoretically, there’s no team size limit, but dungeon runs are limited to five, so we recommend five-person teams.”
“Mm,” He Wuning replied. “No worries, I don’t do dungeons.”
Yi Luo tilted his head thoughtfully. He Wuning had never provided dungeon strategies, always operating in the field, never entering dungeons.
Before Yi Luo could ponder further, He Wuning walked out. Yi Luo quickly greeted the others, “Tell the old man I’m on a mission.”
He grabbed his squad certificate and hurried to follow He Wuning.
“Where are we going?”
He Wuning answered succinctly: “Trading Center.”
……a
The trading center was no less crowded than the administrative hall. Apparently, because of last night’s game update, many players had finally bitten the bullet and bought equipment they’d previously been reluctant to spend on, eager to arm themselves from head to toe.
Inside the trading center hall, rows of sales counters lined both sides. In the center of the hall were two large blackboards: the left one listed items for purchase, the right one listed items for sale, each with transaction codes. Players simply noted the code and went to the counter staff to complete the transaction.
Electricity was scarce in most places, so paper and pen had made a comeback.
He Wuning barely glanced at the boards and didn’t bother joining the crowd. He headed straight to a sales counter. He wanted to sell all the miscellaneous loot he’d collected fighting monsters last night—posting them on the board would be a waste of time; selling directly to the counter was faster.
Selling directly to the counter was essentially selling items to the game’s official system. Most of the gear would be distributed to combat teams and internal personnel, and items not immediately needed would be sold externally, though the buyback price was slightly lower than on the board.
The counter staff had a built-in “Item Appraisal” skill, allowing them to view the stats and levels of equipment not belonging to them. Her fingers flew over a calculator, reading He Wuning the purchase prices one by one.
He Wuning didn’t haggle, taking each item from his bag. After a night of monster hunting, his inventory contained a string of items that would make others envious.
Yi Luo curiously examined He Wuning’s loot. He Ning took out a sniper scope, paused, then, noticing Yi Luo had a sniper rifle, tilted his head and asked, “Want it?”
“Adds accuracy and sight range,” he explained.
“Yes,” Yi Luo nodded. Exactly what he needed.
He Wuning spread his hand toward him: “Pay up.”
Yi Luo, having some understanding of He Wuning, wasn’t surprised: “Sure, how much?”
He Wuning thought a moment. The sales clerk helpfully estimated the price: “We buy it for about 7,000 coins.”
He Wuning nodded. “7,000. On credit.”
He tossed the scope to Yi Luo and continued clearing his bag.
Yi Luo could easily pay 7,000 coins. He checked the stats, equipped the scope, and glanced at He Wuning: “You could just give it to me, you know.”
He Wuning shot him a sidelong glance: “Who said it’s a gift? It’s a sale.”
Yi Luo took the scope, intrigued by this tough-yet-soft guy: “When do I pay?”
He Wuning didn’t look back: “When I’m in a bad mood.”
Yi Luo raised his eyebrows in surprise: “So you’re actually in a good mood right now?”
He Wuning: “......”
Sometimes he really couldn’t understand Yi Luo’s focus.
After emptying his bag, He Wuning asked the clerk to post one purchase request and one sale request. He wanted to buy fragments marked with “?” of unknown purpose and sell three types of milk tea that gave +10% to defense, health, and attack.
He was looking for the administrator permission fragments. Though chances were slim, with so many players here, someone might have them.
The items he was selling required appraisal; He Wuning had already brought three sample cups with him.
The clerk asked, “Do you want to leave the samples here or contact buyers through me…”
In the Game Fallen Zone, aside from the game-provided communication device, other phones, radios, and even computers only worked offline.
Players posting sale or purchase requests at the counter would generally add the clerk as a friend and use them as an intermediary to contact buyers or sellers. He Wuning had already done this previously, but now had a more convenient method.
“No need. Have them contact 99999995 directly,” He Ning said confidently, using his delivery number as a personal line. Q-chan looked like it wanted to protest but wisely stayed quiet while He Wuning handled business.
Few players had the number, but some special professions might encounter special opportunities. The clerk, unsurprised, added the number.
He Wuning asked, “Can you add a note? Recommend calling after buying at least 20 cups of milk tea, and… if someone encounters an abnormally strong monster, they can also call this number.”
He wasn’t actually selling milk tea from the trading center; he was just advertising for free to the crowd, similar to posting ads on the player forum with Q-chan.
The request seemed odd, and the clerk glanced at him a few times. Seeing Yi Luo nearby, she finally nodded.
She asked, “Are the transactions anonymous?”
“No, not this time,” He Wuning nodded to her. “Thanks.”
If his name wasn’t attached, no one would call the number even if they encountered an abnormally strong monster.
Reputation sometimes had its uses.
He collected his money and then swept the counter for available healing items. Healing options were rare in this game, and he didn’t yet have the permissions to unlock milk tea’s healing effect, so he had to rely on these items.
Yi Luo followed closely behind, and Q-chan perched on his shoulder suddenly whispered, “Brother Yi, someone has been sneaking glances at you! Over a minute, more than five times!”
“You pick up titles quickly,” Yi Luo said, glancing at it. He spun to confront a short youth trailing behind; the kid, startled, collapsed to the ground like a guilty thief.
Yi Luo put his hands in his pockets, looking down with raised brows. “Stalking me?”
“Good taste in naming” refers to the milk tea shop being called “Tch.”
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