Ch 81: My Multiverse Supermarket

When the players left, only Zhou Li and Zhang Xiaozhi remained, staring at each other in silence.

As soon as Zhou Li opened her mouth, Zhang Xiaozhi blurted, “I can study on my own. I don’t need to go upstairs.”

Zhou Li: …

Was the trauma from the medical pod really that deep?

Zhou Li decided not to press the issue. She simply nodded and handed her a phone, telling her to keep watching Study and Strengthen the Nation videos.

Zhang Xiaozhi fetched a small stool and crouched in the corner of the stairwell.

That spot wasn’t technically inside the supermarket, making it hard to be noticed, and there were no TVs or mirrors nearby—nothing the principal could use as a medium of contamination to frighten her.

Zhou Li didn’t bother to supervise. As long as Zhang Xiaozhi stayed within the supermarket’s range, she was relatively safe.

But after the players left, the shop became like forbidden ground. Even during breaks, hardly any students came by for snacks anymore.

Outside, however, the strange disturbances grew worse, and Zhou Li’s unease deepened with them.

That was when two students rushed in—both with long hair and wearing qipaos, but with clearly male features. They pleaded desperately, “Boss, please, you have to save us!”

“They’re… players?” Zhou Li, unfamiliar with their faces, turned to ask the system.

“Confirmed,” said the system. “They are indeed players.”

Zhou Li was surprised. Since arriving in this world, she’d rarely had players come to her for help. These two were only the second to ever do so.

“How exactly do you want me to save you?” she asked.

They spoke over each other: “The principal’s back! Only you can save us! If you managed to bring this supermarket inside the school, you must be a top-tier player! You’re the only one powerful enough to stand against the principal!”

Zhou Li: ?

You want me to fight the principal? You’re giving me way too much credit.

Expressionless, she said, “You’re overthinking it. I’m not a player. I don’t get involved in disputes between you and the anomalies.”

“You’re human, aren’t you?” one of them shouted. “How can you be so cold-blooded? Humans have to stick together if we want to survive!”

Zhou Li waited until they finished their moral lecture before replying calmly, “You done? If you’re done, leave. Out of respect for the fact that you were once human, I won’t hold your little scheme against you.”

Their faces twisted in anger. “You—”

“Do I need to throw you out myself?” Zhou Li asked.

In the end, the two left unwillingly.

From the stairwell, Zhang Xiaozhi poked her head out. “They know how powerful the supermarket is. They didn’t dare attack inside, so they tried to lure you out.”

“I know,” Zhou Li said.

“How did you spot the flaw?” Zhang Xiaozhi asked.

Truthfully, Zhou Li just had an excellent sense of self-preservation.

Still, she’d noticed some inconsistencies. “I knew they were players—but total strangers. Meaning they’d entered the dungeon earlier and, like Kong Ru and the others, had already been polluted.”

If they were like Song Ganlan, who often stayed in the supermarket and ate its food, maybe they’d have a chance to reduce their pollution and recover some clarity.

But these two came running in for the first time, immediately begging for help. Clearly, they weren’t genuinely seeking rescue.

They were just using their player identities to trick her into stepping outside.

“Besides,” Zhou Li added, “if they were truly afraid of dying, they’d hide here quietly like you. They wouldn’t even ask for help.”

Zhang Xiaozhi nodded. As an anomaly herself, she actually felt remarkably calm here—proof that this little supermarket was anything but ordinary.

Zhou Li continued, “My guess? The principal hasn’t come back at all. The teachers and instructors are just afraid I might help rescue other players, so they’re trying to kill me first.”

“The principal hasn’t returned? Impossible—I felt it!” Zhang Xiaozhi trembled.

Zhou Li said, “Think about it. If news about Mingde Academy reached the outside world, reporters would be all over it—investigating, probing. The principal showing up now would make him the perfect target. Those old foxes would hide instead, pretend they’re not around, refuse to give interviews… that’s how the real world works.”

Because Mingde Academy was, after all, a projection of the real world.

Even if the principal, teachers, and instructors were all anomalies, they still followed certain laws carried over from human society.

That was precisely why An Yixiao had planned for Zhang Xiaozhi to expose the school publicly—to force the principal’s attention elsewhere.

Even though the academy dungeon was sealed off from real-world access, its laws still existed.

It was like how, in Zhou Li’s home world, people said that whatever a ghost feared in life, it would still fear in death.

A kind of spiritual imprint.

By the same logic, since Mingde Academy was a reflection of the real world, it too carried such imprints—namely, the laws that governed society.

An Yixiao’s hypothesis that different dungeons were interconnected was rooted in this idea of social continuity.

For instance, the Dawn Village dungeon and the New International Department Store dungeon might seem unrelated.

But say, in the real world, villagers from Dawn Village had once shopped at that department store. Then an incident there caused a fatality, leading to its closure. The villagers stopped going.

The link between the two broke temporarily.

Once the department store dungeon was cleared, it would “reopen” according to the laws of society, and the villagers would return—reestablishing the connection.

In The Game’s system, though, they’d still appear as two separate, closed instances.

An Yixiao’s plan would have worked with any student willing to file a report against the school.

The only requirement was cooperation.

Players taking on the role of students could do it too.

But when acting as “students,” they were bound by the dungeon’s role-based restrictions—if the role forbade actions that contradicted its setting, they couldn’t act freely at all.

Most of the students were anomalies, so they were unlikely to help any players.

Only someone like Zhang Xiaozhi—who had enrolled not long ago and already formed a connection with the small supermarket—could be persuaded to lend a hand.

At first, Zhang Xiaozhi didn’t want to help at all.

She hadn’t even wanted to attend Mingde Academy in the first place, but since her parents had sent her there, even if the academy shut down, they’d probably just send her to a “new” Mingde Academy under a different name.

To give her peace of mind, An Yixiao decided to return to the Dawn Village dungeon and complete it.

Once that dungeon was cleared, the outside world would inevitably pay attention to issues like school bullying and the mental health of minors.

At that point, if Zhang Xiaozhi reported that Mingde Academy’s instructors were abusing students and teachers were leading acts of bullying, the outside world would definitely take notice.

Her parents, shaken by the tragedy in Dawn Village, would likely become protective and, under public pressure, transfer her to a legitimate school with proper accreditation.

After Duan Jing explained the pros and cons, and once An Yixiao cleared Dawn Village, Zhang Xiaozhi seemed to sense something. This time, she readily agreed to help.

…

When Zhang Xiaozhi learned that the principal might not be on campus, she visibly relaxed.

“The principal may be gone,” she said, “but the director will return. Can they even beat her?”

*

In truth, the players couldn’t defeat the director.

But they didn’t have to.

Someone had to deal with the swarm of reporters outside, and with the principal missing, that responsibility naturally fell to the director.

An Yixiao’s plan was to use that opportunity—while the director was occupied—to take down the teachers and instructors, earning the title of “Outstanding Student.”

But being an “Outstanding Student” wasn’t the same as being an “Outstanding Graduate,” which was what the game required for victory.

Fortunately, An Yixiao had noticed the difference.

So within just a few days, she completed her “assignments” and “assessments,” advancing to the Spring and Autumn Class—the one with the highest level of pollution.

Originally, Mingde Academy had nine classes, each corresponding to one of the Nine Classics explained in the Commentaries on the Nine Classics:
the Zhouyi (Book of Changes), Shangshu (Book of Documents), Shijing (Book of Songs), Chunqiu (Spring and Autumn Annals), Liji (Book of Rites), Yili (Ceremonies and Rites), Zhouli (Rites of Zhou), Lunyu (Analects), and Mengzi (Mencius).

However, the Liji, Yili, and Zhouli classes had already merged into a single “Three Rites Class.”

The Zhouyi Class had also been shut down after parents mistakenly assumed it taught superstition and feng shui.

Thus, Mingde Academy now had only six classes in total.

While the classes had rankings, none were explicitly labeled as the “graduating class.”

An Yixiao could only infer from the degree of pollution that the Spring and Autumn Class was likely the final one.

As for Kong Ru—already an “Outstanding Student” of the Spring and Autumn Class—why hadn’t he cleared the dungeon?

Probably because he didn’t want to graduate.

He’d already accepted himself as part of Mingde Academy, believed in its educational doctrine, and thus, even as an outstanding student, refused to leave.

Of course, this was only An Yixiao’s theory.

If she was wrong, she would lose her chance—and die in the dungeon.

*

“Instructor! There are so many reporters outside, and you still dare commit indecent acts against a student?”

Duan Jing appeared before the buzz cut instructor, holding up her phone.

The instructor froze, stunned, and the male player standing beside him immediately leapt away to distance himself.

Recovering, the instructor snapped, “That’s not true!”

“It’s all recorded,” Duan Jing said coolly. “Who do you think the reporters will believe—your word or the evidence?”

He understood the consequences all too well.

After a long silence, he ground out, “What do you want?”

“Give us top marks.”

His jaw clenched so tightly it almost cracked. “Fine.”

Once Duan Jing and the others received the stamped “Outstanding” seal from the instructor, they left.

Song Ganlan frowned. “Is this really going to work? It all feels way too easy.”

Their plan was to exploit each teacher and instructor’s weaknesses one by one—forcing them to give glowing evaluations.

If they could collect enough “excellent” ratings, they might unlock the condition to clear the dungeon.

But things were going too smoothly, and that made Song Ganlan uneasy.

She had entered the dungeon earlier than the others and seen far more of its horrors, yet because she’d been far from qualifying as an “Outstanding Student,” she hadn’t noticed anything wrong—just a vague, creeping dread.

Duan Jing said, “This is only Plan A. An Yixiao has Plan B.”

In fact, An Yixiao had prepared three plans.

Plan A was the one Duan Jing’s group was carrying out. Plan B was An Yixiao’s own operation.

And Plan C—known only to An Yixiao herself.

“If this plan fails, run straight to the supermarket,” Duan Jing instructed, handing her phone to Song Ganlan. “Only the boss can get you out of here.”

“Xiao Jing…” Song Ganlan’s voice trembled with worry.

“Go,” Duan Jing said firmly. “You’re no match for what’s coming. None of you are.”

The others exchanged uneasy glances. Duan Jing and An Yixiao were both S-class players—if even they couldn’t handle this, what chance did anyone else have?

…

Soon after, a bloodied Song Ganlan and three other players stumbled into the supermarket, beaten and gasping.

Zhou Li, who’d been playing Army Chess with Zhang Xiaozhi, frowned.

“What happened to you?”

“It was a trap,” Song Ganlan sobbed.

Zhou Li: …

This scene was starting to feel familiar.

“What kind of trap?” she asked.

“There’s no such thing as an ‘Outstanding Graduate,’” Song Ganlan said.

☢️☢️☢️

Sandy: If you enjoy this novel, check out another infrastructure/business management novel The World’s Number One Resort [BL] 😘