Ch 31: My Multiverse Supermarket

“Welcome to the Good Life Supermarket,” Zhou Li said with a pleasant smile.

But after witnessing her use some unknown technological power to punish a thief, no one dared mistake her gentleness for weakness.

Lin Jianshan, remembering that she herself had once thought of picking the lock, felt a pang of guilt.

Still, for Ting Linzhi’s sake, she forced herself to focus and asked, “Excuse me… what’s something cheap but still valuable here?”

It was a contradictory question—but in this supermarket, it somehow made perfect sense.

After all, the prices here were completely different from those outside.

Eggs that cost seven Orka apiece elsewhere could be bought here for only 0.003 Orka (thirty cents).

But a discarded, battery-powered flashlight cost 0.23 Orka (twenty-three yuan).

Zhou Li simply smiled without answering.

Then Ting Linzhi suddenly remembered something. “Doctor Liheit likes collecting old relics from Blue Star.”

Lin Jianshan’s eyes immediately locked onto the flashlight powered by lithium batteries—and the analog alarm clock beside it.

The flashlight was 23 yuan; the clock, 12.

That much could buy a lot of eggs.

It hurt to spend so much, but for Ting Linzhi’s sake, she made up her mind.

Ting Linzhi asked Zhou Li, “Is the time on this clock set to Blue Star hours or Mia hours?”

“Blue Star,” Zhou Li said.

In truth, it was Earth time—but the system had told her that Earth time matched Blue Star’s exactly.

“As I thought,” Lin Jianshan thought to herself. “The boss really is from Blue Star.”

She began to suspect that the Blue Star transport ship had already arrived on Mia.

But if that was the case, why hadn’t anyone announced it publicly?

Ting Linzhi, satisfied with Zhou Li’s answer, said to Lin Jianshan, “Let’s keep the clock then. We don’t need the flashlight.”

“I can still buy one more item today,” Lin Jianshan said.

After some discussion, the two decided on a bag of rice.

A pound of loose rice counted as one item, and an unopened bag also counted as one. So why not buy the whole bag?

The grains were small and didn’t seem as filling as Mia’s “Full Grain Rice,” but they were cheap—and enough to last more than a month.

*

When Lin Jianshan and Ting Linzhi returned to Tzu Chi House, more and more residents had already discovered the supermarket.

They flooded in, buying things in a frenzy—until they realized they couldn’t check out using their light-brains.

“What? No virtual currency accepted?”

“Who even carries Orka coins anymore?”

“Everything here looks so outdated! What kind of antique supermarket is this?”

Voices rose one after another.

Some complained about the cash-only policy. Translated on Hololo novels.
Others tried to insult the place, hoping to get discounts.
And some, seeing only one woman running the shop, tried to take advantage of the chaos.

Soon the store descended into disorder.

They had no idea what had happened to the previous thief.

And so, one after another, people triggered the supermarket’s defense system.

The sudden outcry and the confusion that followed turned the place upside down.

Zhou Li felt her temple throbbing.

“These so-called modern ‘interstellar citizens’,” she muttered to the system, “have worse manners than the refugees from the ancient world!”

“Throw them all out,” she ordered.

A chorus of screams and startled yells filled the air. Moments later, silence fell again.

Those who remained, having witnessed it all, didn’t seem too shocked.

After all, many unmanned supermarkets relied on advanced security systems to deter thieves and robbers.

They simply assumed this one was using some kind of high-tech defense device.

Zhou Li calmly opened her iPad and played a video presentation she had prepared—an informational slide deck explaining the supermarket’s rules.

Everyone crowded around the iPad, listening to the AI narration while reading the text on the screen.

Someone whispered, “An iPad? That’s from the old era, isn’t it?”

“If she can install a full-scale defense system, why still use something this outdated? Wouldn’t a holographic projection look better?”

“And that cash register—it’s ancient!”

“Maybe the boss is nostalgic.”

Zhou Li: …

Keep talking and I really won’t sell you anything.

After reading through the rules, the crowd finally understood.

The supermarket didn’t only accept Orka coins—it didn’t even accept Orka directly.

Everything had to be exchanged for the store’s own currency through auction or trade before you could buy anything.

Still, confusion lingered.

They could understand not accepting virtual currency, but why refuse Orka too?

Why couldn’t they just pay directly with Orka? What made this “store credit” any different from digital money?

Zhou Li didn’t bother telling them that Orka could be exchanged for far more money elsewhere.

“It’s not that different,” she said casually. “It’s still a kind of digital currency, but it only works inside this supermarket.”

“You’re issuing your own virtual currency? That’s illegal!” someone snapped.

“Fine,” Zhou Li said dryly. “Then let’s call it points. These aren’t currency—they’re store points. You need points to shop here. Not virtual money, not Orka. Surely you’re not going to tell me using a points system is illegal, right?”

The man fell silent.

One of the earlier customers, tired of the debate, cut in. “So how many points can one Orka get us?”

“Orka counts as merchandise here,” Zhou Li said, unbothered. “If I’m in a good mood, you’ll get a few dozen points. If I’m in a bad mood, maybe ten.”

The crowd gasped.

Who in their right mind priced things based on mood?

However, it was obvious to anyone watching that the earlier commotion had clearly angered the store owner.

No one dared to talk back now.

They were terrified that if they upset her again, the Orka coins that could have been exchanged for dozens of points might suddenly be worth only ten.

After all, food was already scarce—and there were many places where even money couldn’t buy it anymore.

Zhou Li added, “Oh, and one more thing: anyone who triggers the Super Defense System will be permanently blacklisted. You’ll never be allowed to enter or shop here again.”

She couldn’t be bothered to explain the true nature of the system, so she just described it in a way the residents would understand.

That made several of them panic. “You can’t just do that! Who gave you the right!?”

Zhou Li replied calmly, “Because this supermarket belongs to me.”

Perhaps it wasn’t really about “morality.” The difference between this world and the ancient one she’d visited before was that the refugees of the past had respected and even feared her—and the supermarket. Apart from a few foolish troublemakers early on, most people had treated her like a divine being.

But here, people were used to advanced technology. Nothing about the supermarket seemed mysterious to them, and so, they felt no reverence—only entitlement.

Someone muttered that they should report her.

Zhou Li chuckled. “Go ahead. File all the complaints you want. But every time someone reports me, I’ll close for a day. If I get more than ten reports, I’ll close permanently. I don’t lose anything by not selling here—but can you afford to lose access to food?”

Her casual confidence stunned them.

And when they realized she wasn’t bluffing, reality hit fast.

She was right. In times like these, what everyone lacked most were energy and food.

If this shopkeeper could sell at such low prices, it meant she had a stable supply chain.

And think about it—if she were just after profit, wouldn’t she raise prices like every other store?

Besides, the supermarket’s very existence was mysterious enough.

These were all locals—they passed by this area every day.

Yesterday, there had been nothing but an empty lot. Then, overnight, a fully stocked supermarket appeared. Clearly, this owner wasn’t ordinary.

Someone shouted, “Boss, don’t worry! We’ll protect your store—we won’t let anyone cause trouble!”

“Yeah, anyone who reports you is our enemy!”

“We’ll find out who they are and kick them out of the community!”

Zhou Li didn’t take those words seriously.

Empty promises meant nothing. Actions would prove loyalty soon enough.

She’d make sure they learned that she wasn’t someone they could push around.

“The rules are clear,” Zhou Li said coolly. “If you want to shop, you’re welcome. If not, please step outside.”

Those without cash panicked—what if the food sold out?—and rushed to the banks to exchange their credits for Orka coins.

A few lucky ones who had small change on hand approached with forced smiles. “Boss, you really are a kind person.”

“No need to flatter me,” Zhou Li said flatly, putting the Orka coins into the auction system. “One hundred twelve points.”

She had lowered the exchange rate from 100 yuan to 80 per Orka.

She didn’t want to drop it too much; lowering the price too far might crash its perceived value.

If someone like the orphans from Tzu Chi House came later, they’d get a terrible exchange rate.

For example, if one Orka was worth 100 yuan, but she’d sold them for 20 yuan in bulk, buyers would start believing Orka was only worth 20. Then, even if she raised the rate again, no one would be willing to pay more.

Those who successfully exchanged for “points” went shopping happily, glancing at the membership cards in their hands. “These cards look so retro! Haven’t seen this kind in ages.”

Zhou Li reminded them, “Oh, and all membership cards are real-name registered. They can’t be used by anyone other than the owner.”

The residents were used to ID-based systems and didn’t question it.

They were just curious—how could such an old-fashioned card still verify identity?

She hadn’t taken any personal information, so how had it been bound to their names?

Ah well—it had to be some kind of advanced technology, they figured.

Maybe the moment they stepped inside, their identities were scanned automatically.

…

Meanwhile, the supermarket’s influence continued to spread.

Elsewhere, Lin Jianshan and Ting Linzhi arrived at the neighborhood clinic carrying the old alarm clock.

The clinic was run by Sophia Richter, the eldest daughter of the powerful Richter family.

The Richters had made their fortune mining Orka and were one of Mia’s wealthiest dynasties—deeply connected to Blue Star.

Most of the family worked in energy extraction and metallurgy. Others went into politics or medicine.

But Sophia was an outlier. She’d turned her back on the family’s grand hospital and opened a small private clinic in the Long District community.

Perhaps because of her family’s name, no one dared to cause her trouble.

That freedom allowed her to do things only unlicensed doctors would attempt—treating undocumented residents, performing surgeries in secret.

Her clinic had earned the nickname “the Black Clinic.”

Some avoided it in fear. Others saw it as a place of last resort—one of the few where people without status could still be saved.

That loophole was exactly why Lin Jianshan and Ting Linzhi came to her now.

The clinic was inside a residential building.

When they entered, it looked like any other home—simple and quiet.

Only one woman was inside, adjusting a radio on her desk.

Lin Jianshan recognized it immediately: a Blue Star antique from the 20th century, one of Dr. Sophia’s favorite collectibles.

“Dr. Sophia, I’d like you to examine her,” Lin Jianshan said.

Sophia lifted her gaze, eyes sweeping over Ting Linzhi’s bandaged head. “Using the medical pod isn’t cheap,” she said.

Lin Jianshan quickly offered the alarm clock. “Dr. Sophia, this is a Blue Star 20th-century model—it still works. Would this be enough to…”

But before she could finish, Sophia’s eyes lit up. She eagerly took the clock and examined it, turning it in her hands.

“The design’s a bit too new to be a true antique,” she mused, “but the structure is definitely 20th-century Blue Star. Where did you get this?”

Lin Jianshan didn’t answer. “So… can I trade it for treatment?”

Sophia’s eyes gleamed. “Deal. Come with me.”

As she passed the coat rack, she grabbed a white lab coat and slipped it on—a deliberately old-fashioned touch.

Lin Jianshan and Ting Linzhi exchanged a look.

Dr. Sophia Richter really did love her retro style.

Author’s Note

Zhou Li: Hah… who knew being “outdated” would turn out to be such an advantage? [facepalm-laugh]

☢️☢️☢️