Fluorescent Starfish Sell Out

The mysterious fruit was about the size of an apple, but its entire body was blue, with strange patterns on its surface that resembled the demon fruits from some anime.

Blue naturally suppressed appetite. Holding this mysterious fruit that looked anything but appetizing, Ling Chu hesitated.

Still, since it was a blind box reward from the system, it probably wouldn't poison her to death.

Ling Chu closed her eyes, steeled herself, and took a bite.

The taste wasn't bad—it was like a mix of blueberry and apple. Just as she swallowed, a system notification sounded.

[You have eaten the Mysterious Fruit. Intelligence +1.]

Ling Chu's eyes widened. This was exactly what she needed.

She had just been worrying about how to raise her intelligence, and it was as if the heavens had answered her doubts by sending this Mysterious Fruit that could boost it!

But this Mysterious Fruit came from the system blind box she earned by achieving the server-first feat. Under normal circumstances, it probably wouldn't be so easy to obtain.

With all this delay, it was almost midnight.

Before going to sleep, Ling Chu casually opened the Public Chat Channel.

"It's so dark, help! I have claustrophobia and deep sea phobia!"

"Freshwater for any light-source item!"

"One flint for a hundred wood, or a set of food and freshwater."

"A hundred wood is way too much!"

"I just fished up a wooden box and got a Fire Basin Blueprint. I can craft fire basins for everyone. Materials needed: five charcoal, ten wood. Crafting fee: one iron ore!"

"Iron ore is harder to get than food. If I had any, I'd upgrade my raft first. Where would I have spare?"

Flint and fire basins were that sought-after?

Ling Chu glanced at the Fluorescent Starfish glowing like a bedside lamp on the folding table. When it came to light sources, this starfish was no worse than a fire basin.

"Don't fish at night, everyone! I hooked a Sea Snake and got bitten. I'm poisoned and losing HP. My health is almost zero! Anyone have an Antidote Potion to help me? I'll trade all my resources!"

"Antidote Potions are so rare and precious. Who would trade one away?"

"Exactly. That's a lifesaver in critical moments. I wouldn't trade it for any amount of resources."

Amid the mocking voices, one message stood out.

Lingering Wind and Fading Moon: "I have one. Don't need it for now. Trading it to you. Saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda."

Ling Chu was stunned. In this day and age, there were still people this saintly?

"Thank you, kind soul! Wuwuwu, I'm saved! If I get the chance, I'll definitely repay you!"

"Big shot, can you spare some food? I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving..."

"Big shot, big shot, I have no freshwater left. My mouth is dry. Can you give me some water? Half a bottle is fine."

"Big shot, do you have another Antidote Potion? I got bitten by a snake too. My head's spinning. I think I'm dying!"

The chat channel scrolled like crazy.

Ling Chu shook her head inwardly. Kindness wasn't wrong, but in this survival game where everyone was out for themselves, it would only hurt you.

Lingering Wind and Fading Moon: "...Sorry, I don't have that many supplies. I just happened to get one Antidote Potion from a wooden box I fished up."

Meanwhile, thousands of kilometers away from Ling Chu, on the sea.

A young girl sat on her raft, staring at the scrolling chat channel, fuming.

How could there be so many shameless people in this world? Were they all internet beggars?

And that person who said they'd trade their entire stash for her Antidote Potion—after she traded it over, they only said two words of thanks in the public channel and never replied again. They didn't even give her a single piece of wood.

If you can't find the book by its title, try searching by the author. Maybe it just changed names!

Ling Chu: "Fluorescent Starfish for 500g food or 500ml freshwater, or other useful items and equipment. Multiple colors available. Trade while stocks last."

Plus a real-time photo. In the picture, a blue-glowing starfish on the folding table was brighter than a bedside lamp, casting a dreamy beauty over the dark sea.

"Starfish can glow? So pretty!"

"I want one!"

"This is way more practical than flint. I'll take two!"

"Damn, who's that fast? All gone?"

The Public Chat Channel was instantly hijacked by Ling Chu's Fluorescent Starfish. Feng Xiaoyue breathed a sigh of relief.

Before being thrown into this game, she had been a doctor, so she felt a natural sense of duty to save lives. But right now, watching the increasingly outrageous private messages flooding in, Feng Xiaoyue fully realized that this world was different from before.

She secretly thanked her stars that she had later claimed the potion was something she stumbled upon. If others found out she made it herself, wouldn't that invite even bigger trouble?

Taking advantage of the chaos, Ling Chu listed the Fluorescent Starfish on the Trading Post. Afraid no one would notice, she also sent a message in the Public Chat Channel.

Her nickname was a default numeric ID. Before sending the message, the system asked if she wanted to change it, so Ling Chu switched it to her real name. Before crossing over, she was just an ordinary college student with no enemies. In past online games, too lazy to come up with a name, she always used her real one.

Earlier, the flint and fire basins being hawked in the public chat were priced too high. Ordinary players simply didn't have that much wood and food on hand, so only two or three had sold so far.

Ling Chu still had over thirty Fluorescent Starfish stockpiled. Better to sell them cheap and fast. Besides, after selling them all, she could just fish for more tomorrow.

However, she hadn't expected sales to be so explosive—in less than a minute, all thirty-plus Fluorescent Starfish were sold out.

Thirty-five Fluorescent Starfish had been traded for fourteen loaves of Wheat Bread, two baskets of blueberries, a block of Butter, a can of Sweet Corn, a small bag of salt, and over a dozen 500ml bottles of Freshwater. She wouldn't have to worry about running out of food and water for the time being.

Ling Chu was about to close the System Panel and go to sleep when she suddenly received a private message.

Stay Away From Gambling, Drugs, and Vice: "Do you have any extra Fluorescent Starfish left? I can trade this weapon for them."

[Iron Dagger]

[Quality: Common]

[An unremarkable dagger, usable for self-defense.]

Ling Chu's eyes lit up. She couldn't use that Revolver for now, but this dagger would come in handy—whether for self-defense or gutting fish, and she wouldn't have to let the system skim its cut.

"I have one last starfish left. I can trade it to you."

Ling Chu replied immediately. She had guts and wasn't afraid of the dark, so whether or not she had a bedside lamp made no difference to her.

The other party was straightforward too, trading the dagger over directly.

Stay Away From Gambling, Drugs, and Vice sounded a bit picky: "Why is it blue? I wanted a pink one."

Ling Chu stared at his distinctly masculine ID for a moment, then said, "I can keep fishing tomorrow. If I catch one, I'll make it up to you with a pink one."

Even trading two starfish for this weapon would still be a steal on her end.

Stay Away From Gambling, Drugs, and Vice replied with a single "Fine" and then fell silent.

Moreover, the fact that this person was willing to trade away this weapon for starfish meant he had something better in hand—it seemed she wasn't the only lucky one.

Ling Chu flattened the folding chair all the way and lay down. The night air was a bit chilly, so she draped both sets of tracksuits the system had rewarded her over herself.

She had spent the entire day nonstop hauling supplies and fishing, but her physical fitness was good—only her arms were a little sore. The real drain was the mental burden.

Suddenly transported into this survival game, with nothing but herself on the vast ocean, no water, no food, and having to find every way to stay alive—if it were someone with weaker stress tolerance or a mental patient, they'd probably have jumped into the sea and ended it by now.

But Ling Chu wouldn't. Even if she were the last living person in this world, she wouldn't kill herself.

She tugged the tracksuits tighter around herself. Just as she was relaxing her thoughts and about to drift off, she suddenly heard a strange, eerie hum.

Ling Chu's eyes snapped open.