Ch 134: Guide to Running a Shop in Another World II

Starting from the fourth page of the Golden Guide to Opening a Shop, a section of pages stood out with a different texture compared to the ones before and after. These three or four pages felt like thick copperplate paper, but both sides were coated with a black translucent film, faintly revealing dark solid shapes beneath.

Lu Yao moved closer to the light, holding the guide in her hands, and examined the pages carefully.

On the film-covered paper were silhouettes of bizarre shapes. One of them appeared to have multiple curved appendages extending from what seemed to be its head.

She stared at it for a long time, finding it oddly reminiscent of the octopus-headed bartender she had seen earlier at the doorway.

Yet since she could only see the outer contours, she couldn’t confirm it.

Those twisting lines could just as well be vines, streams, or clouds.

Turning the page, Lu Yao spotted another silhouette resembling the shape of the ghost candies—pointy at the top, spreading out like an umbrella below, with two dark holes in the middle resembling eyes.

Aside from these two recognizable silhouettes, the others were equally abstract, making it impossible for her to imagine what they might look like in reality.

Below each silhouette was a caption in minuscule text.

Regardless of the shape, the note beneath each read: “The Humble Followers of the Great All-Knowing God.”

The Humble Followers of the Great All-Knowing God.

Lu Yao mouthed the words slowly, pondering: Who came up with this caption?

“The Great All-Knowing God” was grand enough on its own—why the need to emphasize “humble” before “followers”? It felt slightly out of place, but she couldn’t help finding it amusing.

These pages could almost be called a “Bestiary of the Followers of the All-Knowing God.” To her surprise, both the octopus-headed figure and the little ghosts were among them. When Lu Yao first read the rules, she had assumed they were entirely unrelated entities.

Perhaps the candies in the jar—both the eyeball-octopus candies and ghost-shaped ones—were intended as a hint.

In this world, the existence of gods might not be a secret.

Yet, for something included in the shop guide, why were the depictions limited to silhouettes? And why use special paper to obscure them? It felt oddly deliberate, as if trying too hard to conceal something.

After finishing the silhouettes, Lu Yao turned to the next section. The remaining pages were only a few, primarily detailing regulations on safety and hygiene. The second-to-last page was a directory listing the contact information for all street administration offices, committee offices, and the church.

A thought crossed her mind, and she pulled out the card given to her by the street administrators. The cleaning team’s phone number on the card was not listed in the guide’s directory.

Moreover, while the guide included the church’s security office, there was no mention of a cleaning team for any district or the central hub.

Unable to make sense of the discrepancy, Lu Yao set the matter aside and flipped to the last page.

This page was split into two sections. The top half bore the title “Guidelines for the Shopkeeper of Ghost Street’s North District, Shop No. 13.” The bottom half was mostly blank, with nothing written on it.

Lu Yao instinctively pondered what it might mean when, slowly, a line of text began to appear on the page.

—First Guideline for the Shopkeeper: Shopkeeper Lu Yao, please promptly prepare for opening. Three days from now, the Great All-Knowing God wishes to hear sixty-six cannon salutes resound above Ghost Street.

So this was a task board.

No wonder those two employees had gone out of their way to deliver it. If she had delayed picking it up and missed the task deadline, who knows what consequences might have followed.

Come to think of it, since entering Ghost Street, the proxy system hadn’t issued its usual tasks.

Lu Yao’s arrival in this world was entirely due to the help me note. It seemed likely that the events and tasks here were outside the proxy system’s control.

However, it was clear that the new task issuer wasn’t going to be any easier to deal with than the proxy system.

Three days until the official opening, and they had to fire sixty-six cannon salutes.

Clearly, the salutes weren’t to celebrate the store’s grand opening—they were because the Great All-Knowing God wanted to hear them.

Was this a compliance test?

Lu Yao closed the Golden Guide to Opening a Shop, pondering the connection between the street administration office and the Great All-Knowing God.

As she thought, a sudden wave of dizziness hit her. Her vision blurred, and her consciousness was invaded by the image of a wet, sticky appendage, like the severed tail of a four-legged reptile, writhing and twitching. Its dark red skin was covered in small, bulging eyes.

At first, the eyes remained shut, but soon, the trembling eyelids began to quiver, as if they were about to open.

Lu Yao’s head felt like it was being filled with cold, heavy cement. Her mind ached with pressure, her stomach churned, but she couldn’t vomit.

“Ding-ding-dong—”

The sudden chime of a bell jolted Lu Yao awake. Her muddled thoughts gradually cleared, and she realized her back was drenched in sweat.

She picked up her phone from the table.

Harold had tried to video call her via the internal network.

The missed call notification showed he had called three times. She hadn’t noticed the first two.

Harold had also sent a voice message, his tone unusually agitated.

He demanded to know where she was, saying he couldn’t sense her location and that the Space-Time Key wouldn’t open a door to where she was.

Lu Yao quickly replied, soothing the little dragon and assuring him she was returning to the nail salon to rest.

When she stood, she felt a cold stickiness on her back. She reached behind and touched her shirt—it was soaked with cold sweat.

Her instincts were right—this world was not just troublesome, but dangerously complex.

No wonder the system was outmaneuvered here.

Shaking off thoughts of the All-Knowing God, Lu Yao swiftly gathered her belongings and left, locking the shop and returning to the familiar streets of the shopping street.

On her way, she sent a message to the employee group chat:

[Lu Yao]: Without my explicit permission, no employees, including Harold and Budu, are allowed to enter the ninth shop.

Since it was already past midnight, most of the employees were asleep. Lu Yao marked the message as important so they’d see it in the morning.

At the nail salon, all the non-human employees were gathered in the lobby, apparently waiting for Lu Yao. Even Budu was there.

When Lu Yao entered, she smiled. “Why is everyone still up at this hour?”

Harold furrowed his brows and snorted. “What happened this time?”

The last time Lu Yao had disappeared from the internet café, everyone had remained calm, and the situation was resolved, but it had left a lasting impression on them.

Earlier, when Harold couldn’t locate Lu Yao, he had almost lost his mind.

Budu, who could enter the shop, had been on the verge of panic as well but was held back by the older, more composed friends in the group.

However, their attitudes were the same—they didn’t want Lu Yao to encounter any danger.

Since meeting this human, their long and monotonous existence had become lively and interesting. Even if it was just to pass the time, they didn’t want their shopkeeper’s life to end prematurely.

Lu Yao walked over, gently soothing Harold, then picked up Budu and sat in his chair, holding the child in her arms.

The icy aura around the little one shifted instantly. He looked down, his ears turning bright red. “Mother, put me down.”

Lu Yao released him as requested. Budu pressed his lips together, jumped off her lap, and sat to the side.

The necromancer Ambrose waited until the little ones were pacified before asking in a slow, drawling tone, “That message you sent to the group—about not letting employees into the ninth shop—did you run into some trouble?”

Lu Yao didn’t plan to hide anything and nodded. “There’s indeed a bit of trouble.”

The demon Clarissa lightly tapped her scythe, which lay askew at her side, with her toes. “Even you can’t handle it?”

Lu Yao smiled and shook her head. “It seems that street over there is managed by a vain evil god who loves hearing flattery. I’m figuring out how to gain their favor.”

An evil god.

The Alexander Continent also had similar beings, but none could compare to the dragon race.

The dragons were too numerous and powerful.

A stray evil god or two wasn’t a match for the dragons.

But even dragons weren’t invincible everywhere. While Alexander was their home turf, other worlds might be different.

From the current situation, it seemed Harold had already been “benched” by the one in Ghost Street.

Budu might still be able to enter, but Lu Yao didn’t want the little one going there.

The world was too strange, and she didn’t want the child overthinking.

Things hadn’t spiraled out of control yet, but since she had come this far, even if her opponent was an evil god, she was determined to try.

Merulu and Puxiu sat on either side of Mumu’s shoulders. Merulu said, “Lu Yao, why don’t you just not open that shop?”

After she spoke, Puxiu and Mumu nodded in agreement.

In the eyes of the fairies and slimes, evil gods were still terrifying and powerful entities.

Lu Yao had recently built a miniature amusement park out of blocks for the twin fairies. The two had likely played so much they’d visibly thinned out.

Lu Yao got up, patted Mumu, and gently pinched the cheeks of the twin fairies before sitting back down. “I can’t. I have a reason I must go.”

Harold couldn’t hold back anymore. “Why must you? If something happens to you over there, we won’t even be able to find you!”

The thought alone made the little black dragon feel like his blood was flowing backward.

Lu Yao carefully considered her words and replied honestly, “Going there wasn’t in my plans, but I received a distress signal. It’s from a friend.”

To put it mildly, she and the system could be considered frenemies—that was one reason.

The second was more practical: the system suited her better than the current proxy.

If she wanted to replace the wooden puppet, she had to retrieve the original system.

Budu seemed to realize something immediately.

Edward, who had been silent, stroked the radiant emerald on his staff and spoke in a low, velvety voice. “Is this the friend who brought you to the Alexander Continent?”

Lu Yao looked up, meeting Edward’s deep, tranquil green gaze, and nodded slowly. “Yes.”

There had been a time when Lu Yao had very few people she could trust.

But now, she had many strong friends—companions.

The hall fell silent.

Friendship and adventure were eternal themes on this continent. They realized they had no reason to stop Lu Yao, but they were deeply worried about her safety.

A world where even dragons and demigods couldn’t tread… and she was just a human.

Tina, the fire dragon, asked, “What can we do to help?”

The others seemed to snap out of their thoughts. They looked at Tina, then turned to Lu Yao.

Lu Yao smiled. “Actually, I do need your help. Believe it or not, that self-proclaimed all-knowing and all-powerful being demands I fire sixty-six cannon salutes to open the shop. This has to be done with flair—I intend to leave them in awe.”

…

The non-human staff listened to Lu Yao’s descriptions and plans, their eyes growing wide. It seemed they really didn’t need to worry about her.

After reassuring the staff at the nail salon, Lu Yao went to shower and rest.

The employees worked late into the night, preparing the materials and tools she would need for the new shop.

The next day, Lu Yao woke up in the nail salon’s break room for the first time in a while. After freshening up, she prepared to head out.

In the reception area, Ambrose was entertaining a guest when he called out to her, pointing to two treasure chests on the coffee table. “Everything you requested is right there.”

Lu Yao was slightly surprised. “So quick?”

Ambrose replied, “Stay safe.”

Lu Yao stowed the treasure chests and headed toward the door. “I will.”

…

At six in the morning, the bells of the west district church echoed through Ghost Street, waking the humans sleeping in the darkness.

Half an hour later, the four patrol teams from the church’s security office lined up, ready to begin their first patrol of the day.

Two people per team, totaling eight.

Their patrol route covered the east, south, west, and north districts, with one full street patrol each in the morning, afternoon, and evening. This was their daily routine.

One of the security guards assigned to patrol the north district that day was a young man recently transferred in. He was brimming with enthusiasm, biting into a piece of bread and holding a box of milk, eager to set out.

However, as a newcomer, he was required to work with a senior for his first three months.

His mentor, a middle-aged man named Xu Zhengrong, had worked in the security office for two years—a tenure that, given the high turnover rate, marked him as skilled and experienced.

The young man, Ren You, deeply respected Xu Zhengrong. However, his senior’s laid-back attitude toward work was a stark contrast to his own.

Though only in his early thirties, Xu behaved like someone on the verge of retirement, leisurely eating breakfast on a bench in the church courtyard while other teams had already left.

Ren You, growing impatient after waiting ten minutes, finally spoke up. “Brother Xu, if we don’t head out soon, we’ll miss lunch.”

Xu Zhengrong glanced at him and clicked his tongue before standing up. “You’re in such a hurry to die?”

Ren You’s face turned pale. “They said patrol duty is the safest job.”

Xu Zhengrong strode past him toward the door. “This is Ghost Street, not the farmers’ market near your home.”

Ren You: “…”

At this hour, most shops on the street were still closed, except for a few breakfast places.

[Shops cannot open before 6:00 AM and must close by midnight.]

Most businesses adhered to this rule, typically beginning operations between 8:00 and 9:00 AM.

Breakfast places, being a special case, were allowed to open as late as 7:00 AM, but even they had few customers at this hour.

Ren You and Xu Zhengrong rode their patrol bike out of the west district, bypassing the central city, and into the north district.

The streets were eerily quiet, devoid of people or anything else unusual.

Xu turned his head slightly, glancing at Ren You, who seemed lost in thought. “Disappointed that nothing happened?”

Ren You glanced at him and then pointed to a figure by the roadside. Keeping his voice low, he said, “Brother Xu, look at that woman. Doesn’t she seem… off?”

The woman stood in front of a breakfast shop selling porridge, buns, and fried dough sticks. She stared intently at the woman ladling porridge, not like someone hungry for food but more like someone hungry for… people.

Lu Yao felt two intense gazes fix on her and turned her head to see the two men on the patrol bike.

The emblem of the church on the bike’s front confirmed their identities, as Lu Yao had read about them in the Golden Startup Guide. She immediately guessed who they were, giving them a polite nod before turning to head back to her DIY workshop.

She had initially planned to explore the street early in the morning, only to discover that the bustling Ghost Street of the night was eerily deserted in the morning. However, the aroma wafting from the breakfast shops was genuinely enticing.

The tantalizing smell of food kept invading her nose, tempting her despite having already eaten breakfast. Unfortunately, with no money in her pocket, she could only linger awkwardly, which had now drawn attention.

The thought embarrassed her, and Lu Yao quickened her pace.

Ren You saw her walking away briskly. “Brother Xu, shouldn’t we follow her?”

Xu Zhengrong squinted at Lu Yao’s retreating figure and shook his head. “She’s a stranger, but she’s human.”

Ren You knew that too. Those “things” wouldn’t have been so polite. Still, he found her a bit odd.

The two continued their patrol around the north district and eventually returned, only to encounter Lu Yao again.

This time, she was outside her DIY workshop, setting up a newly made advertisement board.

Given the rules requiring applications to hire employees, Lu Yao had come up with a temporary workaround: she wouldn’t hire staff just yet and would use the opportunity to promote her shop’s features.

Xu Zhengrong also noticed her, catching sight of the board’s content. He gradually slowed the bike and stopped outside the DIY workshop.

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