Ch 77: My Multiverse Supermarket

Once every member of the Blue Owl Guild had their own membership card, the little supermarket turned lively as a morning marketplace.

“Fresh fruits and vegetables? Am I dreaming?”

“Wait—don’t tell me these are genetically modified again? The tomatoes don’t taste like tomatoes, and the corn’s neither sweet nor sticky…”

“Who cares? Fresh is fresh. Just grab some.”

“Hey! I saw that watermelon knife first!”

“There’s so much alcohol here!”

“Hey, go check the vending machines outside—they’re actually easier to shop from. There’s a ton of stuff not even on the shelves inside.”

At that, many players dashed out to explore the vending machines.

An Yixiao noticed one of the new items appearing behind Zhou Li and blinked. “Is that an electric baton?”

“This is called a self-defense tool,” Zhou Li said calmly.

An Yixiao: …

“Changing the name doesn’t make it not an electric baton.”

“‘Electric baton’ sounds dangerous,” Zhou Li said. “But ‘self-defense tool’ gives people a warm sense of safety.”

The thing could certainly make humans scream, but it wasn’t guaranteed to work against the aberrations. Zhou Li hadn’t planned to market it for this world anyway.

Still, An Yixiao bought one.

“When fighting aberrations, the key is surprise. Even if it only buys you two seconds, that’s enough time to use another item.”

After that statement, the electric batons sold out within minutes to the Blue Owl members.

Watching her daily revenue shoot upward, Zhou Li beamed. “Ah, the public hall really is the best!”

There weren’t any massive single purchases, but with so many customers, the total sales easily made up for it.

An Yixiao asked, “Have you prepared the supplies the director wanted?”

“Yes. I made five hundred sets. Any extras can be sold elsewhere.”

“Then I’ll trouble you to wait half a day,” said An Yixiao. “I’ll rest and heal tonight and head for Mingde Academy in the morning.”

The Blue Owl members all stopped shopping the moment they heard that. They crowded around.

Vice president Chen Linhuan spoke first. “Guild leader, your injuries aren’t even healed. Why rush into another S-class dungeon?”

Zhou Li watched silently from the side.

Clearly, An Yixiao hadn’t told anyone about her plan to go to Mingde Academy.

She hadn’t even had time to compile her Dawn Village clearance report for the guild’s archives—a standard Blue Owl practice after every dungeon run, meant to find patterns or possible links between instances.

An Yixiao simply said, “We’ll talk about it in the 17:00 meeting. Until then, focus on shopping.”

The members looked at each other.

Their decisive, no-nonsense leader putting off dungeon strategy—to tell them to shop?

Still, the supermarket’s stock really was irresistible.

“I’m so sick of instant noodles without seasoning packets—these ones actually have them!”

Buy, buy, buy!

“These snacks even have artificial additives—thank goodness, authentic flavor at last!”

Buy, buy, buy!

Zhou Li: “?”

Seeing Zhou Li’s baffled expression, An Yixiao couldn’t help laughing. She sent someone out to fetch a sample of the local food for her.

Before long, the player returned with a hamburger.

An Yixiao said, “Boss, here—this one’s on me.”

“Thanks, but I already had breakfast.”

“Just try it—it’s our top-selling beef burger.”

Since An Yixiao was recommending it in earnest, Zhou Li figured her employee wouldn’t be trying to poison her, so she accepted it.

She tore open the wrapper, looked at the words “Beef Burger” printed on the package, then at the contents.

To say it looked nothing like the picture would be an understatement.

“This is a beef burger?”

An Yixiao nodded seriously. “Yep. Beef burger.”

“Made of air beef, maybe?”

“The vendor said it has beef sauce in it.”

Zhou Li: “…”

She took one bite—and instantly spat it back out.

“Sorry, I just—ugh, no.”

It might have contained beef sauce, but there wasn’t a trace of real beef—just something overwhelmingly fishy.

The system couldn’t help commenting, “First time I’ve ever seen you lose composure like that.”

Zhou Li grimaced. “You don’t understand. It tastes like fresh ox meat boiled in plain water—no salt, no MSG, no soy sauce—just boiled, then skim off the scum and can it. Then let it ferment a few days before smearing it back on the food.”

“The ‘scum,’” the system said evenly, “is coagulated hemoglobin and protein—technically, the essence of the meat.”

“Stop. Just stop. I’m gonna be sick.”

An Yixiao handed her a napkin.

“You people actually eat this stuff?” Zhou Li asked.

“Most of the time, yes.”

“Don’t you have basic seasonings—salt, soy sauce, cooking wine?”

“Those things are rare now.”

After The Game descended, the old social order had collapsed.

Everyone’s energy went into studying dungeon mechanics and survival strategies.

Scientists found their research meaningless and lost motivation.

Factory workers stopped showing up, and production lines all shut down.

After The Game descended, all agriculture was taken over by it and by a few players who controlled the related channels. With no one left to farm, the once-cultivated land turned into wilderness.

Before long, players discovered that the public hall now sold perfectly balanced, nutrition-standard “healthy food.” Whether something actually tasted good no longer mattered—survival did.

Zhou Li frowned. “That can’t be right. If people stop eating salt altogether, they’ll get sick.”

An Yixiao replied, “The food still contains salt and additives—it’s just that individual seasoning packets aren’t sold anymore.”

She picked up a leaf of lettuce that Zhou Li hadn’t touched and took a bite. “This is organic. Everyone eats organic produce now. You’re not used to the taste yet, but you’ll adapt eventually.”

Zhou Li said, “The Game sure cares about your health.”

Vice president Chen Linhuan muttered, “What kind of dark humor is that?”

An Yixiao said, “It’s like how humans feed livestock. They only provide what helps the chickens and pigs grow faster—never what actually tastes good.”

The analogy hit home. Zhou Li nodded in agreement.

She popped a few mints into her mouth and took a few gulps of cola until the awful “beef sauce” flavor finally faded.

Then she had the mood to chat. “Don’t you people ever cook?”

Chen Linhuan shrugged. “If we’ve got free time, it’s better spent studying dungeon guides or running missions. And if we do feel like cooking, good luck finding ingredients or seasonings for sale.”

Zhou Li now understood why processed food was so popular.

“Still,” she said, “The Game went too far. Instant noodles without seasoning packets—how are they even instant noodles?”

“Exactly!” several players shopping nearby called out indignantly.

An Yixiao explained, “The noodle dough already has salt mixed in during production. Extra additives are labeled unhealthy and non-nutritious.”

Zhou Li raised an eyebrow. “So The Game is basically every overbearing Chinese parent ever?”

She recalled many parents who’d shopped at her own supermarket back home—treating snacks as ‘junk food’ and instant noodles as the worst kind of junk.

When Mu Kun had first opened her snail-noodle shop, she used to overhear parents gossiping while picking up their kids: fast food was all gutter oil, and only home-cooked meals with just salt and nothing else were truly healthy.

A player scoffed, “What kind of parent drives their kids to death like that?”

The words had barely left his mouth before the mood turned strange.

Chen Linhuan muttered quietly, “After so many dungeons, haven’t we met plenty of parents like that?”

That silenced everyone. The comment clearly struck a chord.

Zhou Li, who had been fortunate enough to have a more open-minded mother, decided not to join that conversation. Just then, a few unfamiliar faces appeared outside. She waved and said, “Welcome to the Good Life Supermarket.”

An Yixiao and the others turned to look.

The few people who had been sneakily observing the store froze, then immediately bolted.

But in Blue Owl Guild territory, they were like birds in a cage—escape was impossible.

“Guild leader, they’re from the Carefree Guild,” Chen Linhuan reported after interrogating them.

“Bring them back to headquarters,” An Yixiao said. “Don’t disturb the boss’s business.”

Most of the guild members, except those still waiting to shop, escorted the Carefree Guild players away.

Zhou Li didn’t bother paying attention to guild rivalries.

…

The next day, An Yixiao departed for Mingde Academy.

When the supermarket opened, Chen Linhuan arrived to deliver her message.

“Just her alone?” Zhou Li asked.

“Her, and a few players from Dali. The guild leader sold them information—told them Duan Jing is still alive. They paid her a finder’s fee. Once they learned she was heading to Mingde Academy, they sent people to assist her.”

“Oh.” Zhou Li stepped outside and hung up the “Closed for Business” sign again.

Players who’d come to shop stared in confusion. “Why’s it closed again? It just opened!”

“I’m going to find my employee,” Zhou Li said. “We agreed on it.”

“Employee? The supermarket has employees?”

“Of course. An Yixiao. Didn’t she tell you?”

The Blue Owl members looked utterly dumbfounded, as if struck by lightning.

Chen Linhuan, however, remained calm—clearly, she’d been briefed by An Yixiao beforehand.

Not only that, but An Yixiao had already transferred most of her authority as guild leader to Chen Linhuan, fully prepared for the possibility that she might not return.

And Chen Linhuan knew the little supermarket was the only entity capable of bringing their leader back alive, so she didn’t stop Zhou Li from leaving.

She kept the guild members from interfering, and as for outsiders trying to dig into the supermarket’s secrets—none could stop Zhou Li once she’d made up her mind.

After locking up, Zhou Li said to the system, “Locate my employee, An Yixiao.”

“Location acquired. Beginning dimensional transfer.”

Before the eyes of countless players, the small supermarket vanished in an instant.

The surrounding players gaped in disbelief, while Blue Owl members sighed in relief. “Good thing the guild leader told us to grab our membership cards and stock up while we could!”

Other guilds that heard the news too late could only stare blankly, not even catching a whiff of the supermarket’s exhaust.

☢️☢️☢️