Completely ignoring the college student’s suddenly shattered expression, Zhou Qi’an, like the other players, walked over to the directory sign and began looking for the floor where his shop was located.
“Third floor.” Not a bad spot.
Meanwhile, the college student remained frozen in place, his face deathly pale.
Even though he was absolutely certain that Zhou Qi’an wouldn’t do something as stupid as playing with fire and getting himself burned, he still felt uneasy.
The Origami Boy saw this and assumed he was scared of the floor he was about to go to. “Looks like you two aren’t that close. There are three monster passengers, which means there must be at least three safe locations, yet he’d rather let you rot with uncertainty than tell you one.”
The college student opened his mouth, and was just about to say something, when his gaze suddenly shifted behind the Origami Boy.
The boy’s expression changed instantly, and he twisted his head around—only to find that the woman with long black hair was standing right behind him.
The monster seemed to bully the weak and fear the strong. The woman with long black hair just happened to be standing behind the origami boy, but the two holes on her face were facing the direction of the college student.
The college student, whose brain was not quite functioning, even greeted her.
Finally, the elevator arrived.
The empty, spacious elevator car could easily accommodate over twenty people. It was unclear what kind of goods were usually transported here, but there was definitely raw meat and seafood—blended together, the smell was unbearable.
Zhou Qi’an was the first to step in, and the college student hurried to follow.
The monster passengers entered along with them. Two entirely different species crammed into one enclosed space—no one spoke.
The elevator walls weren’t made of ordinary metal; they were smooth like mirrors. The reflections of the passengers, varying in height, were cast upon the surface, each face appearing strangely distorted. The players mostly wore tense expressions, while the monsters wrapped in human skin all had eerily similar smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths—including the woman with long black hair, who had been bullied on the bus earlier.
The sheer biological diversity made Zhou Qi’an feel suffocated.
The third floor arrived, and he quickly stepped out.
Also getting off at the same floor was the man with the hoodie. The two had barely exchanged a word the entire time.
Jin Ji’s Rice Shop was easy to find. It was located diagonally opposite an out-of-service escalator, the storefront narrow and dilapidated.
Zhou Qi’an glanced at the escalator, where a sign stood beside it: Out of Order—Under Maintenance. Do Not Use!
The red exclamation mark was larger than the text, with ink bleeding downward, strikingly ominous.
Behind him, the elevator doors were slowly closing. The conjoined old woman closest to the exit was staring straight ahead, while several players cast unfriendly glances his way. Even without looking back, Zhou Qi’an could feel their gazes clinging to him like maggots to rotting flesh.
Shaking off the discomfort, Zhou Qi’an walked up to the rice shop.
The shop owner was around forty years old, his complexion pale with a bluish tint, lips purple, and his nearly pupil-less eyes fixed unwaveringly on the jars before him.
Inside the jars, the rice was the same sickly grayish-green color as the owner’s face.
Zhou Qi’an was just about to speak when the shop owner spoke first in a sinister tone. “Someone once came to ask me for rice…”
“I asked him how much he needed. He said there were eighty-one shops still open in the building, and he wanted to place one grain of rice in the first shop, two grains in the second, doubling the amount for each subsequent shop…”
The owner let out a strange laugh and asked, “Young man, tell me, how much rice is needed in total?”
Zhou Qi’an stretched out his hand. “Five.”
Five kilograms!
The man with the hoodie, who had been about to bypass this shop and head elsewhere: “……”
The shop owner’s face instantly darkened. “Useless! You can’t even solve such a simple arithmetic problem.”
Then, suddenly, he called out to the hooded man, “What do you think the answer is?”
Hoodie replied, “Three thousand three hundred and twenty-one.”
“……”
The rice shop owner suddenly lifted his head.
Zhou Qi’an asked, “Did he get it right? Well, my five kilograms happen to contain over three thousand grains of rice too.”
The rice shop owner fell silent, probably unable to comprehend how such an absurd answer had been calculated.
This wasn’t just a minor error—it was an astronomical miscalculation.
The hooded man, having answered the question, continued walking toward the candy shop diagonally across the hall, where he worked.
Zhou Qi’an remained where he was and calmly pitched himself. “Employees with poor math skills are even more valuable—I can’t even count my own wages.”
【You have impressed the owner of Jin Ji’s Rice Shop.】
【You have obtained employment eligibility.】
The rice shop owner shot him a glance. “Fine. You can start working now.”
Not a word about salary or compensation.
Zhou Qi’an immediately put on an expression of deep gratitude, swearing to do his best.
But calling it “work” was an overstatement—they were just standing there together.
There were very few shops open on the third floor, and while some customers occasionally came by to shop—drawn by the ridiculously low prices—not a single one visited the rice shop.
The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty interior.
Zhou Qi’an’s gaze wandered absentmindedly.
The rice shop owner asked coolly, “If you’re not working hard, what are you looking at?”
Zhou Qi’an answered with a serious expression, “I’m observing the rice. Rice is prone to insect infestation—I’m worried that if it sits too long…”
The owner interrupted, “The rice here never gets infested.”
Zhou Qi’an nodded repeatedly as if enlightened, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of something in the elevator.
Who said that? A ladybug had just flown in.
Thirteenth floor.
Since some of the game’s instances were based on Western folklore, the number thirteen was also considered unlucky in the game.
A paper crane flew out from the elevator and landed on a palm, its tiny beak opening and closing.
The Origami Boy happened to be on the same floor as the person with the MP3 Player Guy, and unlike the third floor, most of the shops here were open.
After the paper crane finished reporting, the person with the MP3 Player Guy was left speechless at Zhou Qi’an’s mathematical skills.
“He wasn’t wrong.” The Origami Boy’s bloodless lips moved slightly.
The more powerful an item was, the greater the cost of using it.
Zhou Qi’an’s frequent blood loss whenever he used the holy artifact was the best example of this.
The paper crane wasn’t nearly as extreme, but prolonged control would still severely drain its user’s vitality. The boy needed to rest—moving forward, all his origami abilities would be reserved for survival, not intelligence gathering.
“Huh?”
The Origami Boy explained, “The rice shop owner’s story comes from an old tale. A king once asked the inventor of the chessboard what reward he wanted. The inventor proposed this method—starting with one grain of rice on the first square, two on the second, doubling each time, until all sixty-four squares were filled. Now, the rice shop owner is like the king being asked for rice…”
The person with the MP3 player guy remarked, “There are plenty of ways to deal with it. Make the requester count the rice himself, or just kill him outright.”
He suddenly stopped speaking.
The Origami Boy retrieved the paper crane. “Clearly, the rice shop owner doesn’t have that power, so he can only keep collecting rice to make up for it.”
If someone had answered with an astronomical number on the spot, it would have definitely triggered the owner’s wrath.
And in this game, an NPC’s anger often meant death.
Didn’t expect that guy to have some wit after all.
The person with the MP3 player guy frowned. “The rice shop obviously has more valuable information.”
To complete the main quest, it was necessary to understand the source of the supernatural problems in Jinxiang Building. The entity that had been demanding rice from the shop owner was the key. Once the source was found, the entire main storyline could be unraveled.
Choosing the right shop to work in was crucial.
The Origami Boy said, “Let’s work together. After our shifts, we’ll head to the third floor.”
The person with the MP3 player guy frowned. Randomly moving between floors could be dangerous.
“That’s why we need to team up.” The Origami Boy sneered. “That idiot thinks he has a head start and that makes him special. Tell me, if the rice shop owner finds something missing from the store tomorrow, do you think he’ll keep that employee?”
How do you get a job at a shop with more information? Simple—get rid of the current worker.
To be safe, he decided against targeting the hooded man. The Origami Boy had no impression of him and was wary of kicking an iron plate.
The person with the MP3 player guy hesitated. “I have a feeling that guy might not be so simple. What if he’s just playing dumb and actually—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Actually, there wasn’t even a need for him to pretend to be weak—he still clearly remembered how arrogant that guy had been on the bus.
Besides, no idiot would offend an entire bus of people just to conceal their strength.
The Origami Boy smirked. “Why do you think I came to you?”
In situations like this, it was always better to be safe than sorry. If they worked together, they could ensure nothing would go wrong.
“…Let’s do it.”
Shops on the third floor closed early.
The rice shop owner was preparing to leave, but Zhou Qi’an wasn’t. Here, employees were required to work the night shift.
“The night shift is simple—just guard the store’s inventory and collect the rice.”
Zhou Qi’an instinctively asked, “How—”
The rice shop owner stared at him, his skin stretched thin over his face, radiating an indescribable malice.
Zhou Qi’an stopped talking.
The shop owner pulled a twisted, eerie smile, as if trying to be friendly. “What were you going to ask? Go on.”
Zhou Qi’an fell silent for a moment, then changed the subject. “How much rice needs to be collected?”
The owner reluctantly withdrew his gaze, as if regretting something. “I thought you were going to ask me how to collect it.”
If an employee couldn’t do anything, there was no need for them to exist.
Zhou Qi’an replied, “I’m a professional.”
“The more, the better. But no less than four jin.”
The rice shop owner couldn’t wait to get off work. He quickened his pace toward the elevator, as if afraid of something. Along the way, he warily eyed the air around him, muttering under his breath, “Hurry and fill it up. Once it’s full, that woman can finally—”
Finally what?
Zhou Qi’an looked up.
By then, the elevator doors had already closed, sealing the rest of the owner’s muttering behind the metal doors.
The elevator began ascending. Zhou Qi’an had made a point to observe—when the other shop owners left, they also chose to go up, which meant they were highly likely to be living in the building.
With the owner gone, Zhou Qi’an continued watching over the empty rice shop.
“The one demanding rice is definitely a ghost.”
People wanted money—who would bother extorting rice?
Zhou Qi’an mulled over his plan. “As a model employee, I should work overtime when the boss is on shift, collect rice when the boss collects, and… sell rice when the boss isn’t looking.”
If the rice shop owner got killed by the ghost demanding rice, then he would be the one in charge.
So the best solution was to sell off the rice.
With reduced inventory, the owner wouldn’t be able to meet the ghost’s demands, meaning he’d most likely be in trouble. Besides, forcing him to work nights, watch the shop, and not even paying wages—how did he have the nerve? There was way too much rice in stock. Even if some were stolen, looted, or eaten by rats, it wouldn’t be noticed.
“But if there’s nothing left to guard, then there’s no need for a night shift.”
Zhou Qi’an sorted through his logic, determined to create a better work environment for himself.
Actions spoke louder than words. He scanned his surroundings.
The conjoined old woman had reported that one of the open shops was an art studio. Zhou Qi’an remembered it being on this floor—he just wasn’t sure if it was still open. If it was closed, he’d have to check the supermarket downstairs.
Diagonally across, the hooded man sat there like a puppet, exuding an eerie, fragmented aura—something distinctly inhuman.
His task also began at night, and at the moment, he was resting with his eyes half-closed.
No one knew how much time had passed when a faint, distinctive smell drifted over.
Hoodie caught it immediately—paint.
Zhou Qi’an had somehow gotten hold of an old, oversized billboard and was painting over it.
Impressive. Even from a distance, only able to glimpse a fraction of the design, the hooded man could tell how well the colors and typography blended together. But… what was the point?
Zhou Qi’an had mastered the basics of poster design and was now finalizing the text layout.
The rice looked unappealing.
No problem—he’d just write: “Pure and Natural, Specially Selected Health-Preserving Rice.”
As for the price, Zhou Qi’an didn’t dare to lower it without permission, so he simply wrote, “Limited-Time Discount Starting Today!” Anyway, no one knew the original price.
“I’m going to set up an ad sign downstairs.” Zhou Qi’an casually informed Hoodie, “Keep an eye on the shop for me.”
“?”
The sky had already darkened, and the mall would soon close for the night. Zhou Qi’an wasn’t in a rush—he was just waiting to give the rice shop owner a big surprise.
Not far away, the ox-head man was busy wiping down his bus, seemingly unaware of what was happening here.
Zhou Qi’an quickly set up the billboard at the entrance. Before leaving, he couldn’t resist admiring his work.
For convenience, he had directly reused a design template he had created for his company earlier that year, carefully modifying the details. The aesthetics and precision were ten times better.
Back then, he had only used eighty percent of his skills, and his miserly boss had still been full of praise, even commending him in a company-wide meeting.
“They’ve never seen real talent…”
Bumpkins like that would never witness their employees’ true masterpieces.
__
Author’s Note:
Zhou Qi’an: Hardworking and fearless strategist, daring and decisive little whale.
