Ch 56: My Multiverse Supermarket

An Fengxuan exchanged her Hair-Growth Patch for 200,000 supermarket points.

After that, she bought a few buns and devoured them hungrily.

Once full, she purchased several useful tools.

These ordinary items couldn’t harm alien species, but in certain situations, they could still be quite handy.

For example, the lights in instances often flickered to create a horror atmosphere. With an ultra-bright flashlight—bright as a car’s high beams—she wouldn’t have to worry about some monster jumping out of the dark.

Even if the flashlight broke, it wasn’t bought with Game Coins, so she wouldn’t feel a bit of regret.

Her only disappointment was knowing that once she left this instance, she might never find this little supermarket again.

Zhou Li, unaware of An Fengxuan’s thoughts, had her own concern—that her customers might not be able to find her later, leaving unused funds in their membership cards.

So she reminded her, “Oh, right. I forgot to mention—because of how instances work, my supermarket’s location refreshes randomly. It might not be here next time. Normally, unused points can be refunded, but since your item can’t exactly be ‘cut into pieces’ to offset the remaining points, you’ll have to take goods of equal value instead.”

An Fengxuan was stunned. “The location refreshes randomly?”

“Yes. It can appear anywhere, completely unpredictable—so don’t bother asking me where it’ll show up next.”

“Then I’d better stock up while I can!” An Fengxuan said quickly.

Zhou Li thought about it. For now, she didn’t set a purchase limit.

This world was too strange anyway—she might not even meet a few customers in an entire day. Setting quotas would just make her stock harder to move.

Zhou Li said, “There are vending machines outside—you can pick up from there directly. By the way, do you have a storage item?”

“I do,” An Fengxuan said.

She took out a B-grade item—Elementary School Backpack.

It was a storage item: small in appearance but capable of holding a surprising amount.

Zhou Li: “…”

That name—wasn’t it basically mocking how heavy real schoolkids’ backpacks were?

She muttered, “Why isn’t there one called ‘Men’s Clothing Pocket’ instead?”

In fashion, men’s clothes always had huge, functional pockets—people joked they could hold the universe. Translated on hololonovels.
Meanwhile, women’s clothes barely fit a phone.

An Fengxuan said, “There is a similar item. It’s called ‘Straight Man’s Pocket.’ It’s an A-grade item—held by the president of the First Guild.”

Zhou Li let out a dry laugh. The Game’s sense of sarcasm was off the charts.

She turned to her system. “Are these items made with folded-space tech too?”

The system replied, “They’re more akin to what your home world’s Taoism would call Xiu Li Qian Kun—a cosmos within one’s sleeve.”

“So… the end of science really is metaphysics?”

“Don’t tell me you’re planning to use such items instead of spatial-folding technology? Forget it. Even if such items exist, their capacity wouldn’t match your needs. And if one did, its value would exceed even S-grade. No player would ever sell it.”

“Fair point,” Zhou Li said.

She asked An Fengxuan, “Any smaller storage items like that? I’ll take even a tiny one.”

“You want one?” An Fengxuan shook her head. “Storage items are rare and never repeat. But if you want, I can keep an eye out for any player selling one.”

“Thanks.”

…

Judging by the quantity and size of what An Fengxuan packed into her backpack, Zhou Li estimated the space inside to be about one cubic meter.

Not much compared to the “football-field-sized” inventories of fantasy stories—but more than enough for tools and daily supplies.

Once An Fengxuan had filled it, she left.

The little supermarket fell silent again.

Here, Zhou Li couldn’t even sense the passage of time.

For once, she had nothing to do—so she buried herself in her exam prep.

When hungry, she ate. When sleepy, she slept.

Before long, the lights outside dimmed.

She didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly, loud chaos erupted beyond the door.

Zhou Li jolted awake.

Three strangers stumbled into the store.

All were wounded; one had even lost an arm.

Behind them loomed a twisted alien creature—its head small and pointed, its face distorted, arms so long they dragged on the ground as it chased them.

Zhou Li saw it all clearly—and nearly screamed. It was like watching a horror movie come alive. She began frantically reciting moral mantras in her head.

Just as the creature reached the supermarket’s boundary, its long arm brushed the doorway—and instantly recoiled as if electrocuted.

It stopped outside, shrieking at the invisible barrier.

Zhou Li quickly averted her gaze, not daring to look at that grotesque face again.

*

The three players, breathless, realized too late that someone was inside.

They had fled toward the light instinctively—people under extreme fear always ran toward brightness—never stopping to think that it might be another trap, or another monster waiting.

Seeing Zhou Li, they immediately assumed she was one of them.

Only now did it hit them—they might’ve dragged an innocent person into danger.

“There’s someone here! Let’s fight our way out!”

“Wait—look! The ‘Manager’ stopped!”

“It’s not coming in!”

Shock turned to relief.

But one of them still frowned—if even the alien refused to enter, how terrifying must the person inside be?

He looked toward the unfamiliar woman behind the counter.

Zhou Li was also studying them.

Two women and one man. The man looked the youngest—seventeen, maybe eighteen—and was the one missing an arm.

Blood dripped onto the floor.

Zhou Li pulled out a first-aid kit. “Your wound… shouldn’t we treat it first instead of staring at each other?”

They snapped out of it.

The boy quickly pulled out his own healing item.

Zhou Li silently put away her kit.

Right—ordinary medical supplies meant nothing here.

Most players had their own survival items anyway.

Then she said, “You’ll need to clean the floor too. The mop and bucket are in the restroom—use some toilet cleaner, and don’t leave any blood scent behind.”

The three froze.

So she was an alien after all—how else would she issue the exact same cleaning task?

They didn’t dare disobey and rushed off to find the mop.

Zhou Li felt pleased—such diligent customers!

In the restroom, the three huddled to whisper:

“What do we do? To ‘clean properly,’ we have to identify the linked event and resolve it. But we don’t even know what this supermarket’s event is.”

“Yeah. This task is weird. Why no prompt?”

“Wait—you realize this is a supermarket, right?”

“Of course. So what?”

“That’s exactly the problem. What’s this instance called?”

“New International Department Store.”

They all went silent.

A supermarket inside a department store? That was absurd.

Had the instance gone haywire?

“Could this be a hidden mission!?”

“If it were, there’d be a prompt.”

One woman grumbled, “So that’s why Player #242 was so eager to rush upstairs—turns out her floor had a damn boss.”

“Whatever. Let’s just get this over with,” another said.

The boy added, “Agreed. Let’s cooperate for now—once we clear this part, it’s every player for themselves.”

The grumbling woman snorted but didn’t object.

They divvied up supplies—one grabbed a rag, another the toilet cleaner and detergent, another the bucket—and together scrubbed away every drop of blood.

When the floor gleamed spotless, they all froze.

That… was too easy.

When had missions become this simple?

The boy stepped up to “submit” the task. “It’s clean.”

“I see. Now dump the water, rinse the mop and rag,” Zhou Li said—then paused.

It was blood, after all. If the police somehow got involved, she’d be dragged down too.

“Never mind. Throw the mop and rag in the outside trash, but make sure to wash the bucket—use baking soda and vinegar.”

The players exchanged nervous glances.

“See? The hard part’s next. There’s a monster outside—how do we toss the mop and rag?”

“Or maybe the bucket is the real trigger?”

“What if this is all a trap?”

The boy cut in. “We’ll split up. One lures the monster, one tosses the trash, one cleans the bucket. My arm’s gone—I’ll handle the trash.”

The complaining woman added quickly, “Bai Pi, you’re the fastest—you lure the monster. I’ll wash the bucket.”

The third woman frowned. “We draw lots.”

They did, reluctantly.

Bai Pi ended up with the “wash bucket” job, the boy got trash duty, and the third woman had to lure the alien.

“You cheated!” the third shouted.

“Don’t talk nonsense!” he snapped back.

“You should be the one outside!”

“Oh, and you’re sure it’s not you who cheated with an item?”

The argument exploded instantly.

Bai Pi ignored them and quietly began washing.

Zhou Li watched all this unfold.

Thinking of the grotesque monster outside, she understood their fear.

So she said kindly, “Don’t you have storage items? Just keep it in there for now—throw it out after you leave the instance.”

The players blinked.

It was… a perfectly logical suggestion—
but somehow it felt wrong.

Then it hit them:

“What if these are cursed items? If we carry them out, they’ll corrupt our world!”

“No—we can’t take them!” they decided unanimously.

The female player said firmly, “Fine. I’ll distract the alien. You handle the trash.”

She’d rather face the monster than risk bringing a curse home.

The boy regretted agreeing but had no choice now.

The woman swapped into running shoes, crouched in a sprinter’s stance—
and in a blink, launched forward like a bullet.

Zhou Li blinked. All she saw was a streak of afterimage.

…She really wanted that kind of item.

[Author’s Note]
An Fengxuan: That’s what you get for excluding me. I’m not telling you the truth about the mini supermarket! [dog emojis]

☢️☢️☢️