Chapter 14

When Shi Jian first heard the voice ring out in her mind, she was a little startled. But after all, she had already experienced dungeons with rose flowers that grew eyes and monsters that devoured people—her psychological tolerance had definitely leveled up.

Zhang Dong had previously explained to her that after clearing a dungeon, before entering the next one, people would be in a safe zone where no new monsters would appear.

Right after, Shi Jian was distracted by that achievement, and her delicate brows furrowed.

[Dogs and Shi Jian Not Allowed in the Castle]—what the hell kind of achievement was that?!

Shi Jian had been adored since she was a child, welcomed wherever she went, and ever since she became famous, she was constantly flooded with invitations. This was the first time she had ever been excluded like this.

"......"

Shi Jian was speechless. She felt like the monsters in the castle were just sore losers.

But it wasn’t like she cared to go into that castle anyway. Even if they invited her, she wouldn't go, okay?

The voice in her mind didn’t come back, and her consciousness fully cleared. She set aside her complaints and started examining her surroundings.

The castle, once surrounded by roses, filled with gloomy rain and oppressive vibes, had completely vanished. Now, Shi Jian found herself in a very modern, mall-like environment.

She even saw a clothing store right next to her.

Through the glass, she could see shelves full of merchandise, and sales staff inside waiting for customers.

People bustled about nearby, and no one looked like they were about to turn into a monster.

Everything seemed normal. Shi Jian had always enjoyed shopping at malls, and the things that happened in Rose Castle now felt like something she had imagined.

But the passersby weren’t talking about stocks or mutual funds. Instead, they were saying things like:

“When are you going into the next dungeon?”

“I want to rest a bit more. Who knows if I’ll even survive the next time.”

“My last dungeon was such a scam—I almost died.”

“Too many crappy teammates. Seriously, I can’t take it anymore. Please let me get good teammates next time. Better yet, give me a high-tier streamer.”

……

Shi Jian understood now. Okay, she was still stuck in this magical system. She hadn’t returned to the real world.

She also unexpectedly found that a phone had appeared in her hand.

It wasn’t hers—she hadn’t brought her phone when she was dragged into this place.

She glanced at it briefly. The phone was practically empty. Besides the basic functions, there was only one app: a livestreaming platform. Based on that, Shi Jian figured it must have been issued to her.

Shi Jian had a ton of questions and needed answers. The most urgent thing now was to meet up with Zhang Dong. With him being a veteran streamer, maybe he could explain everything clearly.

Before they left the castle, Zhang Dong had told her to meet by the whale statue. As a newcomer, Shi Jian had no idea where that was, but she could ask around. The statue seemed to be well-known, and soon a blushing young man enthusiastically led her to it.

“I’ll head off now then.”

After Shi Jian repeatedly assured him she didn’t need help, the guy walked away, looking back every few steps, reluctant to leave.

Zhang Dong wasn’t there. Maybe she had arrived too early, or maybe he had been delayed by something. Shi Jian found a place to sit and wait.

Bored with nothing to do, Shi Jian pulled out the phone and curiously tapped open the livestream app.As soon as Shi Jian opened the app, a red gift-box-shaped pop-up appeared on the screen, labeled "Newcomer Gift Pack."

Shi Jian remembered Zhang Dong had mentioned the newcomer gift pack—his camera had come from it, and supposedly, the first-place finisher in a newbie dungeon could draw a very powerful item.

And wasn’t she the first-place finisher!

When she exited the dungeon just now, that voice in her mind had announced she was the top scorer in the [Rose Castle] game dungeon.

Shi Jian instantly got excited. Items were obviously important for them—who knew what good stuff she might get?

The stronger, the better.

Holding her breath and with her heart pounding, Shi Jian reverently placed her finger on the gift pack.

A beam of light flashed, and under her expectant gaze, the gift pack opened.

A pair of Barbie-pink high heels appeared on the screen—neon pink and hideously eye-catching.

Shi Jian nearly went blind: ???

She couldn’t believe it. She tapped again, and a line of text appeared:

[As you can see, this is a pair of cheap stall-grade high heels. Visible glue, likely to fall apart at any moment. Who knows which poor sucker would take this home.]

[Effect: Agility +2, Attack +10]

Poor sucker Shi Jian: “……”

She nearly turned into a walking comment barrage. If her thoughts could appear as subtitles, they’d be full of curses and roasts.

She had only noticed how ugly they were—now she learned they were also low quality, glue showing, liable to break at any time?

And that last line of the description was full of mockery. Official self-roasting really was the deadliest.

If no one wanted this junk, why was it even in the gift pack? Couldn’t they do some quality control before handing things out to streamers?

So much for “first place gets the good stuff.” Instead of a reward, this felt like revenge from the item pool.

Sure, she had been wearing disposable slippers and had even thought, while beating the butler to death with a chicken in Rose Castle, that it would’ve been nice to have high heels—but she didn’t mean this kind of “thoughtfulness.”

The Barbie-pink heels had a long description, too—so long that it folded part of it. Shi Jian numbly swiped down.

The next line read: [Growth-type Item]

……

“Boss, sorry I’m late.”

Zhang Dong rushed over and saw Shi Jian wearing a barely-there smile. He assumed she had gotten tired of waiting. But the first thing she said was, “Are we still live right now?”

Zhang Dong replied, “Nope, livestream ends when you leave the dungeon. The transfer station is the streamers’ rest time—no one’s streaming 24/7.”

Shi Jian nodded. “That’s a relief.”

Then, Zhang Dong watched as the barely-smiling Shi Jian instantly went blank-faced, her eyes empty.

She did not feel like performing right now.

She described the item she’d drawn to Zhang Dong. His first reaction was, “If it’s a growth-type, then it’s a good item!”But once Shi Jian, under Zhang Dong's guidance, took the high heels out of the phone and they magically turned into a real object, even a straight guy like Zhang Dong could only hold back and say, “Yeah… they’re really not good-looking.”

“The heel doesn’t look stable. Wouldn’t it break if you wear it?”

After materializing, the Barbie-pink high heels reached new heights of ugliness and clearly proved the description wasn’t exaggerating.

Glue was oozing out, loose threads hadn't been trimmed, and Shi Jian could see the heel was wobbling, already showing signs of detachment.

“……”

“Forget about that for now. Are we in the transfer station? What is this place? And this phone just appeared out of nowhere…”

Shi Jian decided to put the shoes aside and shift her focus.

As she had guessed, the phone was distributed by the streaming platform—every streamer got one.

The transfer station was the place streamers stayed after leaving horror game dungeons. It was a large building filled with people like them—streamers. Other than staff, everyone here was a streamer. You couldn’t leave the transfer station, and Shi Jian didn’t even need to ask what happened if you tried. Most likely: death.

The transfer station had 11 floors, including a shopping mall, supermarket, restaurants, even a swimming pool and a library...

Streamers must enter a new dungeon every ten days. It was mandatory. That dashed Shi Jian’s idea that maybe people could just stay here and avoid the dungeons—it was clearly safer in the transfer station.

Zhang Dong said, “The organizers are no fools. You think they'd let us slack off like that? And you think food and drink here are free? You need points for everything, and you only earn them in dungeons.”

“But the transfer station has everything. All your needs can be met—if you have the points. Points here basically are money.”

Shi Jian asked Zhang Dong, “How many points do I have? How do I check?”

Zhang Dong showed her how to check through the phone app while patting his chest.

“Just check the app... But don’t worry, Boss. You saved my life. I earned quite a few points this time—over 1,400. I won’t let you go hungry. How about I give you 800?”

“If you think that’s not enough…” Zhang Dong gritted his teeth. “I’ll give you 1,000!”

“I really can’t go higher. As a newbie guide I only got 800 myself, and I need to save some for food.”

Shi Jian knew Zhang Dong was already going above and beyond. He didn’t have to do any of this. She didn’t know anything about this place, and Zhang Dong had no obligation to explain it to her.

But not only had he come to find her, he even offered to share his points.

Shi Jian shook her head. “I don’t need your points. You don’t have to give me any.”

She had already opened her personal page. The screen showed:

Name: Shi Jian

Status: Low-tier Streamer

Points: 2588 (Base 300 + Clear Bonus 1400 + Livestream Tips & Popularity 888)

Clearing a dungeon guaranteed a minimum of 300 points. Zhang Dong knew Shi Jian had done well in the dungeon, but since she didn’t have dungeon-leading experience, he hadn’t expected her to hit 1400. His own newbie guide role had been like winning the lottery—a famously cushy gig.

Zhang Dong exclaimed, “Your tips and popularity are so high! Almost as much as the clear bonus! For a newbie dungeon with low traffic, that’s amazing. Once you get into bigger ones, you’ll definitely earn a lot more.”

Shi Jian: Is that considered high?

She didn’t really have a frame of reference. But Zhang Dong was thrilled with his 1,400, so Shi Jian cautiously asked, “So... how many points do we need to go home?”

From what she’d gathered from the other newcomers in Rose Castle, it seemed like everyone was either already dead in the real world or teetering on the edge.Shi Jian wanted to redeem that resurrection ticket—she wanted everything to go back to normal.

Zhang Dong scratched his head. “One hundred million.”

Shi Jian: ???

She looked down at her little more than two thousand points and suddenly felt like she didn’t even know what the word “high” meant anymore.

She heard laughter and cheerful chatter. A few finely dressed women passed by, trailing a fragrant scent. The one being surrounded in the center had her arms full of shopping bags—spoils of war—with a carefree look that made her stand out from nearly everyone else.

Shi Jian focused her gaze on the woman’s dress.

Zhang Dong also noticed the group. “At a time like this, most people are focused on survival. Who’d waste points buying something like that?”

Shi Jian asked, “Do you know where to buy it? And roughly how much?”

Now it was Zhang Dong who looked completely confused.

Shi Jian stared at the dress without blinking, her face practically saying:

I really want that.

...

It wasn’t that Shi Jian didn’t want to buy it—she simply couldn’t afford it. Her points didn’t even cover a fraction of the price.

The prices at the transfer station were similar to those in top-tier cities in the real world. The wealth gap among streamers was massive. Some barely scraped by on minimum allowances, most earned three to four thousand points per month and struggled to get by.

Of course, there were also high-tier streamers who could rake in hundreds of thousands of points in a single broadcast.

According to Zhang Dong’s explanation, the woman covered in luxury goods didn’t earn her points herself. She relied on a wealthy backer—one of the top ten high-tier streamers on the leaderboard.

Zhang Dong saw the longing on Shi Jian’s face and had a moment of impulse: Buy it for her, buy it for her!

Who could bear to see a gorgeous girl looking so disappointed?

But he quickly came back to his senses—he had even less saved up than Shi Jian.

Still, the thought reminded Zhang Dong of something. He handed Shi Jian a card, and when she looked at him with confusion, he explained:

“A sportswear exchange card. I was late earlier because I went to buy this. You don’t have any clothes to change into, right?”

“Don’t turn this down. You already refused my points. I’ll feel bad otherwise.”

Since Zhang Dong had said that much, Shi Jian didn’t refuse him again.

She needed to find a place to stay. The transfer station had everything from budget motels to five-star hotels—but again, the issue was simple:

She couldn’t afford it.

Shi Jian: Never been this broke in my life!

After checking out the housing options, Shi Jian settled for a four-person dormitory that cost 75 points. Zhang Dong was staying in a 10-points-per-night communal room—mixed gender, people sleeping head-to-foot, the place reeking.

Even so, Shi Jian still spent over 800 points on basic skincare.

Even beauties need good skincare. Shi Jian had confidence in her self-care habits, but after that stay in Rose Castle, her skin felt dry and tight.

On top of that, she also bought some comfortable, basic-style clothes and a pair of comfy sneakers.By this point, more than half of Shi Jian's points had already been spent.

...

The four-person dormitory at the transfer station was small, but fortunately, it was same-gender only, and to Shi Jian’s relief, there wasn’t much of a smell.

There were three other girls inside. They exchanged brief greetings, and Shi Jian casually helped a short-haired girl pick something up.

The short-haired girl looked surprised. “You can see me?”

Shi Jian was confused. “Hm? Should I... not be able to?”

Didn’t Zhang Dong say there were no monsters in the transfer station?

The short-haired girl wasn’t a ghost. She explained, “I’m Tang Tian, a low-tier streamer. I’ve been through two instances. I was just a corporate drone before this. The reason I asked if you could see me is because I’ve always had a strange constitution—people often overlook my presence...”

“So the fact that you actually noticed me is kind of surprising.”

A girl on the upper bunk near the door, who was eating instant noodles, looked down when she heard them talking.

“Huh, Tang Tian? When did you get back?”

Tang Tian shrugged at Shi Jian, as if to say, See what I mean?

Shi Jian answered honestly, “You’re quite noticeable.” A whole person standing there—how could anyone miss that?

The group didn’t talk much after that and went back to doing their own things.

Before going to bed that night, Shi Jian went to the bathroom to wash up. In the quiet of the night, the delayed fear surged over her like a wave. Shi Jian wasn’t particularly strong by nature. Back in the castle, she had to keep up appearances and stay composed, but now that there were no viewers, she could finally let it out. Tears welled in her eyes.

Tang Tian had woken up needing to pee and didn’t expect to walk in on her new roommate quietly crying.

Tang Tian felt a bit awkward and was caught in a dilemma.

Actually, it was a pretty normal situation. Tang Tian thought her new roommate—who was so beautiful it was like she came from another dimension—was handling things well. She was crying silently and hadn’t disturbed anyone.

Tang Tian wasn’t sure if she should go over and offer comfort or pretend not to have seen anything and leave.

Then she heard Shi Jian mutter softly to the mirror, “This tear actually looks kinda pretty!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Shi Jian grabbed her phone and started snapping selfies like crazy.

Shi Jian: I was originally crying out of sadness, but suddenly realized I looked really good crying—had to capture the moment, fast.