Trading

When he left the orphanage, the sun was already slanting west.

Although he didn't have any kind of timekeeping device, judging by the sun's position alone, it was probably a little after two in the afternoon.

Based on his experience last time, the script would probably enter nighttime around five, then forcibly drag him into the security room.

But despite the tight deadline, Zhou You didn't seem particularly anxious. If anything, he seemed rather leisurely.

Before leaving the orphanage, he'd already found a length of hemp rope in good condition and of sturdy quality. If he failed to find a clue to clearing the scenario and saw signs of nightfall, he'd immediately find himself a nice spot and hang himself.

Once the script reset, it would be twelve o'clock again. That would give him plenty of time.

He made his way through the alley and returned to the intersection.

Just like before, every road leading away from the intersection was still shrouded in bottomless fog. It seemed that anyone who walked into it would immediately lose their way completely.

Zhou You had more or less figured it out by now: the area he could explore during the day was proportional to how much ground he covered at night. The more roads he walked at night, the more places he could reach during the day. Otherwise, the fog would block his way and tell him that the route was off-limits.

"...Well, that's a good thing, too. At least it tells me how far I can explore. I won't have to run around aimlessly in a bunch of places."

Muttering to himself, Zhou You turned around briskly and headed elsewhere.

Unlike at night, when there was only one main road he could take, the daytime streets were filled with many more winding, crisscrossing lanes. Most of them looped around for ages only to lead back to where they started. A few led to unusual buildings—but those were almost all locked, and impossible to open.

Zhou You didn't have the time to try every single one, so after thinking it over, he went with a more efficient approach.

On the first day, he had memorized the map at the entrance. So all he needed to do now was rule out every route that was probably unrelated to the intersection—places like XX Treatment Center or the Anorectal Hospital—and focus on the roads that might be relevant, as well as those that weren't marked on the map at all.

That would save him quite a bit of time.

But in the end, it was still just a matter of blind luck.

After an hour of stumbling around and trying different routes, Zhou You finally came across an anomaly he'd never seen before.

It was a pitch-black door.

There was no sign above it, nor the plaque you'd expect to see outside a shop. Only a line of small writing on the doorplate read:

"Zhao Po's Trading Hut."

Below it was another note:

"Priests and monks are not welcome. Neither are penniless paupers. Anyone in either of these groups who barges in does so at their own risk."

As an aside, the words "at their own risk" had been written in bright red paint, with streaks running down from the edges. At a glance, they looked as though they'd been written in blood.

Zhou You looked himself over.

"First of all, I'm not a religious person, so I'm fine."

Then he searched his pockets. As expected, there was nothing in them.

But he didn't look the least bit embarrassed.

"Sure, I don't have any money on me right now, but I had a huge sum before. It's just temporarily in someone else's hands. Broadly speaking, I'm still a rich man, so I don't count as a penniless pauper."

Having reached this flawless conclusion in two steps, Zhou You confidently pushed open the black door.

But the next moment, that confidence vanished. He stumbled out, his eyes streaming and tears running down his face.

There was only one reason: the smell inside was unbelievably foul!

It was like a piece of pork left in a warm, damp place for a week, then left to soak in a cesspit for three days, before being served up to Lao Ba for one of his special dishes. In short, the stench was beyond anything a human could endure.

After spending several minutes outside recovering, Zhou You finally managed to pull himself together. Before long, though, he steeled himself and went back in, looking like a man walking to his death.

Maybe the air had cleared a little—or maybe his sense of smell had already started to fail. This time, Zhou You wasn't driven right back out. Pinching his nose, he looked around. The furnishings seemed quite ordinary: rows of shelves stood around the room, holding various old bottles and jars. It looked like a perfectly normal secondhand shop.

An ancient old woman sat at the very back. Her head drooped as though she were dozing, and every now and then he could hear a heavy snore. She seemed not to have noticed the person who had entered.

Nothing seemed amiss, but Zhou You didn't let his guard down.

He hadn't forgotten that monsters could exist even during the relatively "safe" daytime. One wrong move, and even an apparently harmless female cleaner could suddenly transform.

So Zhou You cautiously approached and called to the old woman in a soft voice.

"Ma'am..."

No response.

"Ma'am."

He raised his voice a little, but she still didn't move.

"Ma'am!"

She showed a little sign of reacting, but that was all.

In the end, Zhou You had no choice but to take a deep breath and roar at the top of his lungs.

"MA'AM!!!!"

At last, that woke her.

The old woman raised her head, revealing a deeply wrinkled face.

"Ni Shi She?"

"...Sorry, I didn't catch that. What did you say?"

The old woman didn't answer. Instead, she opened her shriveled mouth and tried to make a few sounds. When that failed, she shook her head and rummaged around under the table.

Zhou You initially thought she was going to pull out a set of dentures or something. After all, many old people couldn't speak clearly once they'd lost their teeth. But what she brought out was a jar.

A jar filled with formalin, with a human head floating inside.

The old woman opened the lid. Amid a burst of wailing, she fished the head out of the stinging liquid—it was actually still alive—then forcibly removed its mouth. She replaced her own mouth with it, opened and closed it a few times, and only then seemed satisfied enough to put the jar back.

"Oh, how embarrassing. I've been using this mouth for over ten years, and it seems to have stopped working lately. Fortunately, I still have plenty of spare parts. Anyway, you're here to buy something, right?"

She—or rather, it—said this with warm enthusiasm.

"So what are you planning to pay with? Money, something of equal value, limbs, internal organs, or... your life?"