Chapter 38
Chapter 38
Furniture lay piled haphazardly by the entrance. Blood stood out starkly against the white wall. Dried muddy footprints covered the living-room floor, and the used first-aid kit still sat on the table.
The inner world couldn’t change the real one, but things could be brought into it from reality.
More importantly…
Zhao Xiuming left the bedroom. The dark green wooden door had appeared on the living-room wall again.
Its handle turned back and forth before him. Then, with a creak, the door opened a crack, seemingly inviting him inside.
He lowered his eyes, yawned, and began tidying the living room and entrance.
It was night in reality, but morning here. He could already smell food outside.
Buildings in Zimu City connected to one another, making the utmost use of every inch of space.
Anyone unfamiliar with the place could get lost among its chaotic, unplanned structures.
The stalls were bustling early in the morning. A few gang lackeys had bought breakfast and were squatting together, eating rice-noodle rolls and exchanging meaningful looks.
They’d been ordered to collect some people: mainlanders who didn’t fit into Zimu City at all.
A bespectacled interpreter was handling communication with them. He was a White Paper Fan of the Tianding Society, looking refined in his suit and tie.
“Country bumpkins.”
“They don’t dress like bumpkins. They look pretty rich.”
“If they’re rich, why come here? They could ride around outside in luxury cars, picking up girls. How great would that be?”
“You don’t get it. The businesses in our West District have plenty of pretty girls. Rich people love coming here for fun. Last time I was parking cars outside Xiuli Palace, one big shot gave me a huge tip.”
“Is that all the ambition you’ve got? Work hard for the gang. One day we’ll be the bosses, with other people parking our cars.”
“Hey, is that guy over there looking at us?”
At the last question, five or six lackeys wiped their mouths and turned, still holding their rice-noodle rolls.
Sure enough, a good-looking young man stood there in a plain zip-up hoodie and trousers. He had the innocent sort of face that made him look like an easy target.
His soft, fluffy black hair was a little long. Casually tied back, it left a few strands falling beside his face.
His skin was dazzlingly pale, his lips unnaturally red.
Curiosity and gentleness filled his eyes. He even gave the thugs a simple, harmless smile.
Holding a bowl of fish balls, he ate without a trace of fear, his cheeks bulging.
The lackeys instinctively checked his shoes. They were sneakers none of them recognized, in an unfamiliar style and color scheme.
Anyone trusted to keep an eye on Xiuli Palace had a good eye for people. Clothes, jewelry, and shoes usually told them roughly who someone was.
Rich or poor. A boss or a second-in-command. A worker or an educated professional. A kept lover or a boss’s wife coming to catch him cheating.
But this one was genuinely hard to place. He wore nothing expensive, and they didn’t recognize his clothing brands. A few mouthfuls of fish balls seemed enough to satisfy him. Yet something about him was thoroughly out of place. He seemed a little too well-behaved.
The five lackeys had seen school students before. Those kids reacted to them like mice seeing a cat: either avoiding them or spitting in disgust.
Most pretended they didn’t exist. No one stared this openly. By the lackeys’ rules, a look that direct was a provocation.
But this one…
“I’m Zhao Xiuming,” the good-looking young man said. “What’s that you’re eating? Is it good?”
The lackeys were certain now. He was an idiot.
The idiot Zhao Xiuming took out some money and placed it in front of the elderly man selling the noodle rolls. “One serving of what they’re having. Keep the change.”
Now they were sure: not merely an idiot, but a rich idiot.
They exchanged looks and immediately had an idea. Who in this world had anything against money?
The five gathered around Zhao Xiuming, surrounding him with ill-intentioned smiles.
He looked up. “Do you want me to buy you some?”
The old man serving his rolls scolded them. “You little thugs, don’t bully this student.”
The fish-ball vendor beside him advised, “Just ask him for some protection money and escort him out.”
Understanding dawned on Zhao Xiuming. He took out the money in his pocket and stuffed it all into the leader’s hand. As the man stared, he pulled one note back. “I need this for food.”
He’d used points to buy a language-related item from the System. Now he could understand everyone in this instance, and whatever he said would reach their ears in the appropriate dialect.
It worked on both NPCs and players. And because he was an NPC himself, players couldn’t detect it.
He had indeed been listening to the lackeys, and understood what they meant. “Mainlanders” was being used as a slur, while “White Paper Fan” was a title akin to a gang’s strategist.
During his wanderings, he’d also learned that Zimu City was currently ungoverned. Historical complications and various other factors had left it outside anyone’s jurisdiction.
Gangs large and small had fought among themselves until two major societies came to call the shots: Longhu and Tianding.
Those thoughts passed in an instant. He lowered his head and tried a mouthful of rice-noodle rolls.
No sooner had he done so than the lackey opposite pressed a finger against his forehead.
He looked up, puzzled.
“Who are you?” the man asked. “What do you do? Why are you here alone?”
The nearby vendors showed no fear of these five. They’d even offered a few words of reprimand. So Zhao Xiuming was very pleasant.
If the five had been murderous, ruthless thugs who committed every kind of crime, the shopkeepers wouldn’t be this relaxed, much less dare scold them.
Even with petty gangsters who swaggered around collecting protection money, shopkeepers would bow and scrape, afraid to offend them and invite trouble. Small-time bullies could be the hardest to deal with.
Here, though, the vendors behaved rather like elders. Zhao Xiuming guessed these young lackeys were newcomers to the gang and hadn’t yet done anything too outrageous.
“I’m a student,” he answered. “I wanted to come and look around. I heard the gangs here were very impressive.”
“I wanted to see for myself and draw comics with spectacular fights.”
The lackeys found that interesting, and rather funny.
Perhaps it was because Zhao Xiuming looked harmless, foolish, and rich.
Perhaps it was because vendors they knew were present. Perhaps their consciences hadn’t entirely died.
In any case, they stopped making trouble for him and began talking over one another. “Hahaha! Of course being in a gang is impressive. Brothers looking out for each other, making our way in the world. We all eat and drink the best!”
“So you’re here for inspiration? Foreigners used to come take photos too. I thought a boy like you had come looking for some fun with an older woman.”
Their talk grew dirty. Their leader said, “Call me Dahu. I’ve got a younger brother who’s a good student too.”
“We’ll take your protection money and get you out safely.”
“Otherwise, a little lamb like you is easy prey. With looks like that, watch out; someone might snatch you and make you the star male attraction at Xiuli Palace.”