Ch 70: My Multiverse Supermarket

When Duan Jing returned to her dorm, her roommates were reciting passages from The Four Books for Women. The moment the monotonous chanting reached her ears, the clarity she’d struggled to regain began to blur again.

She quickly held up the detergent. “I bought the laundry powder.”

The chanting stopped instantly. All her roommates turned their heads in perfect unison—ninety degrees—to stare at her. Then, they smiled, identical eerie smiles.

“Wonderful. You bought the laundry powder. Let’s wash clothes together.”

Suppressing a shiver, Duan Jing forced a calm smile. “The teacher’s looking for me, so you can start first. Of course, the teacher always tells us to help one another. You’re all so virtuous and kind—I’m sure you won’t mind washing mine too, right?”

Her roommates were high-level anomalies assigned by the school to monitor her, so there was no reason to be polite.

The dorm leader froze.

Ignoring their reactions, Duan Jing dropped the detergent and hurried out.

Once she left the dorm building, the oppressive stickiness clinging to her skin finally eased a little.

But as she headed toward the teaching area, she didn’t feel optimistic.

The dungeon’s rules weren’t hard to follow—too easy, in fact. And that was the trap. The simplicity lulled players into compliance, until they were brainwashed, polluted, and came to embrace the dungeon’s twisted logic.

Just like in the real world three years after The Game’s arrival—many people had already adapted to this new life. They’d stopped resisting, stopped searching for a way to end it.

Some even took pleasure in it—bullying the weak, stealing others’ artifacts, even taking lives.

They longed for power, not to uncover the truth, but to stand above everyone else.

A violent urge to destroy everything welled up inside Duan Jing—until the faint scent of alcohol in the air snapped her back to awareness.

“That was close… I almost got polluted again.” Her heart pounded.

That was the dungeon’s danger—the way it magnified every dark emotion inside a person until the rules molded them into puppets stripped of all feeling.

But wait—why was there the smell of alcohol in Mingde School?

Following the scent, she arrived at Training Hall.

It was the confinement room where disobedient students were punished—and the only place in the entire school not under surveillance.

To match its “traditional” theme, the school had borrowed the three characters “Training Hall” from The Rules of Scholarly Instruction. Ironically, that text was meant to teach reading and study methods—nothing to do with punishment.

Duan Jing couldn’t help a bitter thought as she crouched nearby to observe. Inside, several instructor anomalies were drinking.

For students, this hour was chore time—the school’s way of “cultivating good wives and mothers” by forcing them to do housework at dawn. But for instructors, it was work hours. So why were they drinking in broad daylight?

If they got drunk, that’d be perfect. She just hoped they didn’t get half-drunk and start causing trouble.

Had they been to the small supermarket?

Only that supermarket’s liquor had such a rich, fragrant aroma.

Her eyes lit with a cunning idea. “Then I’ll make sure they drink until they forget what planet they’re on.”

Since she now knew where the instructors hid to drink, it was the perfect chance to reclaim the confiscated player artifacts.

Now fully lucid, Duan Jing moved quickly and efficiently. It didn’t take long to find the tool she needed—a snail that could paralyze and distort time perception.

“Go.”

The snail crawled up the instructors’ heads and slipped into their ears.

Perhaps because of the alcohol, the first to be targeted—the buzz-cut instructor—took a full second before scratching his ear.

“What’s wrong, Cai?”

“Nothing. Just itchy.”

The snail went in and out swiftly, leaving no trace.

The others, too, noticed nothing unusual.

At first, the buzz-cut instructor grew suspicious when he saw everyone scratching their ears. But the artifact soon took effect, dulling their sense of time, and his doubts vanished.

With their time perception numbed, ten minutes in the real world felt like barely one to them.

“Why’d you stop drinking?”

“Isn’t it almost time for morning exercises?”

“There’s still ten minutes left, isn’t there? Keep drinking.”

Without a sense of time, they indulged freely—one bottle of white liquor after another.

“This stuff is divine—way better than what humans drink.”

“Next time, let’s buy more.”

The artifact’s effect lasted only fifteen minutes.

When the instructors thought just a minute or two had passed, the bell rang—calling students to morning exercise.

“Huh? What’s that noise?” one instructor slurred, already drunk.

“Isn’t it morning drill time?”

“I thought we still had ten minutes…”

The instructors’ faces changed at once. “Oh no!”

Though they were anomalies and the rulers of this dungeon, even they were bound by its rules.

Failing to report to their duties on time was a violation—and worse, some of them were already drunk. Even if they rushed back now, the principal would notice something was off.

Just then, Duan Jing pushed open the door to the Training Hall, feigning shock. “Instructors, drinking during work hours?”

“It’s you!” The buzz-cut instructor immediately realized what had happened. Its face twisted grotesquely, mouth splitting open like a black abyss as it lunged to swallow her whole.

Duan Jing shouted at the top of her lungs, “The instructors are drinking in the Training Hall!”

The buzz-cut one flinched and hurriedly snapped its petal-like jaws shut. “Don’t shout!” it hissed.

Duan Jing’s lips curved upward. After suffering so many times under these monsters, she finally had them by the throat.

*

At noon, Zhou Li came downstairs after lunch to relieve An Yixiao and found her crouched at the counter, fiddling with something using tweezers.

When Zhou Li leaned in, she froze—the counter was covered with the tiny corpses of gnats.

Her scalp tingled. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up invasive species,” said An Yixiao, calmly adding another insect to the pile.

Zhou Li blinked. “Gnats are practically invisible to the naked eye—how can you even catch them?”

“Talent,” said An Yixiao.

Zhou Li fell silent.

An S-rank player—terrifying indeed.

She shut the door, turned on the electric mosquito repellent, and lit an extra stick of mugwort incense. “Physical extermination is nothing compared to chemical defense. Go eat lunch, and wash the dishes afterward.”

An Yixiao quietly tidied the counter, then asked, “I cooked. Shouldn’t someone else wash?”

“My money pays your wages.”

An Yixiao let out a dry laugh. To think—she, once a capitalist boss, was now trapped in the system herself.

She turned to head upstairs but suddenly stopped, eyes shifting toward the door.

Moments later, Duan Jing appeared—followed by three women and two men.

Their looks varied, but they were all adults, meaning they were players.

After entering, Duan Jing quickly introduced them. “These people entered the dungeon around the same time I did. One of them was already missing before that—an old friend. If they act out or say something offensive, please don’t throw them out.”

She had brought them here to use the supermarket’s special properties to help clear their minds—strength in numbers would increase her chances of clearing the dungeon.

But if they broke any of the store’s rules, they could end up blacklisted like Kong Ru and be permanently barred. That would be a huge loss.

She’d chosen these few because they entered late, meaning their pollution was shallower—their odds of regaining clarity were highest.

An Yixiao asked, “Is this supposed to be your free time?”

“No. It’s lunch hour. Everyone’s supposed to be eating in the cafeteria. I blackmailed the instructors with their little drinking secret—they had to ‘punish’ us in the Training Hall. Then we slipped out.”

In the morning, she could visit the supermarket because buying detergent counted as “learning housework,” which the rules allowed. But noon was different—

According to the school schedule, students had to eat lunch in the cafeteria, nap for half an hour, then clean the school before afternoon classes.

So, coming here now was a clear violation.

Duan Jing could only take advantage of the instructors’ guilt and risk it while they were still drunk—once they sobered up, her leverage would be gone.

“What is this place?” one player asked blankly.

“Why’d you bring us here?”

“To eat.” Duan Jing grabbed snacks, asked An Yixiao to put them on her tab, and shoved the treats into their mouths.

The players resisted immediately. “These are snacks! Girls shouldn’t eat so many, or no one will want to marry them!”

“Eat,” Duan Jing snarled, “or I’ll throw you out of school and you’ll never attend your precious ‘female virtue’ class again!”

Tears welled up—but they chewed anyway.

“Waaah… it’s… actually good…”

“Why cucumber-flavored chips? I’m allergic to cucumber!”

Zhou Li: ?

Someone allergic to cucumbers? Seriously?

“You think there’s real cucumber in there?” Duan Jing snapped. “Ever heard of wife cakes without wives? Now eat!” She shoved a bottle of cola into the girl’s mouth.

At first, they resisted shyly. But the more they ate and drank, the more they couldn’t stop.

Why did it taste so good? Why did the drinks feel so refreshing?

They’d never missed a single cafeteria meal, yet now they devoured everything like starved ghosts.

Finally, one of them gasped, “The cafeteria food—it’s disgusting!”

“I thought I’d lost my sense of taste! Turns out it was the food all along—miraculous!”

“Hey! Why are you stealing my chips?”

“You’re allergic to cucumber! Take this little bun instead.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m allergic to milk.”

“…”

An Yixiao and Duan Jing exchanged a look. The players clearly hadn’t fully recovered from their mental contamination—but the supermarket’s food was helping. They were regaining fragments of personality, of preference, of joy.

Other foods might have had the same effect—but players couldn’t carry much inside. And anything exposed to the dungeon’s environment would quickly become tainted.

Unlike this supermarket—completely insulated from corruption.

“Don’t you all still have some items?” Duan Jing coaxed. “Exchange a few cheap ones for membership points, and you can come back anytime.”

Tempted by the snacks and soda, the players finally agreed to register.

Some of their items were low-level and only mildly polluted, so the auction system accepted them.

By the time they left, each had a membership card in hand.

Only Duan Jing’s friend still looked wary—ready to run to the teachers and report them the moment she stepped outside.

So Duan Jing asked An Yixiao to tie her up for now—maybe with more time in the supermarket’s clean environment, she could regain clarity too.

[Author’s note]
Zhou Li: “What is this place, a mental health rehabilitation center???”

☢️☢️☢️

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