After counting heads, Xing Yue’s face darkened, his sharp features drawn tight with a deep frown. “Xiao Jie and Master Zhi Yin are missing.”
Cao Wu let out a small sigh of relief. “With the master there, they should be okay. But Xiao Jie…”
He looked visibly troubled. “That kid’s… well, a special kind of talent. She can only run and kite monsters while escaping—basically zero combat ability.”
High EQ version: special talent.
Low EQ version: utterly useless in a fight.
He Wuning could already tell how serious the situation was from that polite phrasing.
Xing Yue was so anxious he started pacing in circles. “A mobile dungeon… how could something that unpredictable show up now!”
He Wuning glanced at the transparent vines that had just dissolved into streams of data. Not long after they had sent out a message, a rare mobile dungeon entrance appeared—it was hard to say if the two events were related.
But speculation was pointless now. They had to find a way to rescue the missing two first.
Q-chan darted toward the milk tea truck in a panic. “Sweetie! Phone! The takeout phone on the milk tea car is ringing!”
Xing Yue frowned. “Now’s not the time for that—”
He Wuning didn’t hesitate; he strode quickly toward the car.
Yi Luo shot him a glance. “They know we’re on a mission. Why would the Rescue Center send another task now?”
Xing Yue, whose thoughts were tangled in knots, suddenly realized, “It’s the master—or Xiao Jie!”
He rushed after He Wuning. By the time He Wuning answered the phone and turned around, the milk tea car was already packed with people. Q-chan had no choice but to cling to the roof, protesting seriously, “You can’t do this! It’s overloaded!”
Everyone looked at He Wuning expectantly. He nodded. “It’s them. They’re inside the dungeon.”
Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Yi Luo, having already claimed the driver’s seat, stretched his long legs to block off the passenger seat as well. He looked around with disdain. “Why are you all coming? You do realize a dungeon only allows five people, right?”
For once, Xing Yue’s brain worked fast. He sneered, “Who said we’re entering the dungeon? We’re just here to deliver milk tea.”
Yi Luo: “…”
He had to admit—they had a point. This game seemed to have plenty of loopholes to exploit. For example, nowhere did it specify how many people were allowed to deliver milk tea.
So technically, as long as everyone could fit inside the truck—even a whole division could tag along.
He Wuning sighed. He looked up. “Make way.”
A portal had appeared in front of the milk tea car. Hands in his pockets, he walked down the cleared path and sat in the passenger seat. A portal had appeared in front of the milk tea truck. Hands in his pockets, he walked down the cleared path and sat in the passenger seat.
Everyone stared at him, momentarily thrown by the abrupt topic shift.
Cao Wu cleared his throat. “Uh… which kind? They’re all different depending on the region…”
He Wuning raised a brow. “Which kind do you know?”
Cao Wu rubbed his hands. “Well… I know a bit of all of them.”
He Wuning nodded. “Q, just in case—get in touch with Xue Xun.”
“On it!” Q-chan chirped and immediately flew toward the phone.
The milk tea car plunged straight into the portal.
……
Dungeon: Mahjong Parlor
Smoke filled the air. The room was draped with bright red silk, and antique shelves displayed blue-and-white porcelain and jade bonsai of indeterminate age. In the center stood an ornate Eight Immortals table carved with dragons and phoenixes, upon which lay a shimmering set of jade-green mahjong tiles.
Three faintly glowing, enchantingly beautiful figures sat around the table—their waists slender, their legs graceful… or in some cases, too many or none at all.
At the east seat lounged a stunning woman with vertical pupils. Her pale, slender wrist supported her chin lazily as if boneless, her narrow waist coiling down into a thick, scaled serpent’s tail whose tip swayed idly in boredom.
“Hurry up.”
As she spoke, a forked snake tongue flicked out between her crimson lips.
In the north seat sat a pretty young girl with high twin ponytails—but her eyes had no whites, only solid black. Beneath her short cheongsam was an insect’s segmented abdomen like that of an ant—slender-waisted, terrifying to look at.
She giggled. “No need to rush, sis. It’s rare we get visitors. If we kill them too fast, we’ll be short one player again. Let’s give them a bit more time to think.”
“Eh, but I don’t think either of these two can play,” said the beauty in the west seat. She wore a black Western dress and a tiny hat with a black veil covering her eyes. There was no chair beneath her—only the body of a giant spider with eight long legs.
There was no one in the south seat. In fact, there wasn’t even a chair. But if you looked closely at the jade-green mahjong tiles in front of it, you could just make out two tiny figures.
It was only that their figures were too petite compared to the other three, as if they were little people who had mistakenly entered the land of giants. THat was why they were ignored at a glance.
They were Master Zhi Yin and Xiao Jie.
Xiao Jie stared at the mahjong set before her, completely clueless and close to tears. If only she’d bothered to watch her mom play mahjong at home!
Master Zhi Yin’s face was pale. He’d just survived a fierce battle outside and hadn’t even recovered full health—now he was on the verge of collapse.
He took a deep breath and tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry. They’ll be here soon…”
Xiao Jie bit her lip and glanced at the countdown timer in the corner. But before anyone else arrived, they had to play their turn!
This wasn’t a game of money—it was a wager of HP between the players and the bosses. The ant-girl had just won a self-drawn hand, a plain win, and Master Zhi Yin had lost 1000 HP because of it. If that happened again…
Xiao Jie looked at her own 700 HP bar, face going white. She clenched her teeth and pushed out the tile she had just drawn—a white dragon tile.
The moment it hit the table, the spider woman laughed. “Hehe—Big Three Dragons! 88 fan! Hu!”
Cold sweat streamed down Xiao Jie’s face. Eighty-eight fan?! Even if she had dozens of lives, it wouldn’t be enough to survive that!
Just as despair showed on her face, the milk tea car finally arrived—crashing straight through the mahjong table. The driver, whether by accident or design, swerved the vehicle in such a way that it sent the spider woman’s tiles flying everywhere.
“My Big Three Dragons!” the spider woman shrieked.
He Wuning kicked open the car door and jumped down. “Big Three Dragons? Who saw that?”
The spider woman rose menacingly, all eight legs flexing one after another in threat. “The dungeon has already started. Outsiders are forbidden to enter! You’ve violated the rules. The Voice of the Worl—”
He Wuning lifted a cup of milk tea. “No violation. I’m here to deliver milk tea.”
The spider woman fell silent mid-sentence. She stared at him, eyes narrowing, waiting—but the Voice of the World gave no response.
He Wuning deliberately took his time, scanning the chaotic mahjong table, then looked at Xiao Jie—pale and nearly fainting—and at the visibly weakened master. He lowered his voice. “Can you fight?”
The master shook his head slightly. “Too high-level. Retreat.”
When the ant-girl had self-drawn earlier, the other two bosses had also lost 1000 HP, yet their health bars hadn’t budged an inch—it was clear their HP was enormous.
He hadn’t tested direct combat yet, but after their recent battle, everyone’s buffs from the milk tea had already worn off, and most of them weren’t at full health. Engaging these bosses now would be unwise.
He Wuning gave a slight nod and motioned with his hand. The milk tea car rolled forward slowly, keeping just one step behind him.
The three bosses watched every movement from above. They didn’t speak, but He Wuning knew—any wrong move, any rule broken, and they’d attack instantly.
Then he suddenly spoke. “You all seem… alive. You must have Administrator Fragments, right?”
The three bosses exchanged knowing glances, their expressions sultry and teasing. The spider woman’s gaze lingered on him. “We do. You want them?”
The ant-girl giggled. “He knows about the Administrator Fragments—so he’s the newcomer the old vine mentioned, right?”
“I told you we grabbed the wrong ones!”
The snake woman exhaled a puff of smoke from her long pipe, elegant and lazy. “When did you ever say that? All I remember is you saying, ‘Whatever shows up, let’s just play with it first.’”
“Those two were clearly just feed. They’re not the newcomers.”
“Feed?” He Wuning repeated the word, and surprisingly, he didn’t sound angry at all.
“That’s right—feed. The feed of this game.” The ant-girl leaned forward over the table. “Those without Administrator Fragments aren’t even considered players in our eyes. Newcomer, you’re the only one here qualified to sit at the table.”
“But you’re far too weak. I could crush you with one hand.”
“Exactly why we should deal with you now,” the spider woman said with gleeful malice, eyes gleaming. “Eliminate the roots, prevent future trouble—that’s the logic of your world, isn’t it?”
He Wuning nodded slowly. “I think I’m starting to understand. I suppose the fragments you carry aren’t some measly four or five percent, are they?”
“Hahaha! Five percent!” The ant-girl slapped the table so hard it shook. Master Zhi Yin went even paler as his HP began to drop again—just from the shockwave of her laughter. She wasn’t even attacking, yet she could still inflict damage. “You mean you’ve only been fighting those weaklings?”
She leaned in closer, curiosity flickering in her dark eyes, as though she wanted to pick up the entire milk tea car to examine it—but something held her back. Instead, she pressed her face against the window, smiling. “I’ve got fifty percent. You want it?”
He Wuning’s heart skipped a beat.
Fifty percent. No wonder these bosses were different from the ones they’d encountered before.
Those earlier monsters only became “alive” when near death—but these ones had been alive from the start.
He Wuning lowered his gaze as if deep in thought. He didn’t panic. Instead, his eyes flicked briefly toward the inside of the milk tea car. The bosses didn’t know that Yi Luo was already gripping the takeout phone tightly—and on the other end, Xue Xun was calmly placing an order, waiting for He Wuning’s signal. The moment he gave it, a return portal to the safe zone would activate.
Xiao Jie and Master Zhi Yin tensed up. Suddenly, He Wuning grabbed both of them and leapt backward. They cooperated instantly, falling in the same direction. Inside the car, everyone reached out at once to pull them in. “Xue Xun!” Yi Luo shouted.
“On it—right now!” came Xue Xun’s quick reply.
With a sharp click, the line went dead. Just as a faint outline of a portal began forming in front of the milk tea car, the vehicle lurched forward and dove straight into it.
“Trying to run?!”
The snake woman, who had been quiet and languid until now, reacted first. She spat a ball of venom that barely managed to cling to the car’s rear bumper. The milk tea car shuddered violently as it passed through the portal—then crashed hard onto the parking space in front of the service hall.
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