The show was over, but there was still a huge mess to clean up afterward.
First, they had to explain to the village why so many people had died during an ordinary tour, then submit a written report to Paradise... In short, there was an endless amount of work to do, and most of it fell on Xia'er, the troupe leader.
They hastily cleared away the bodies, then burned them to ashes in a single fire—there was no way to hold any sort of farewell ceremony in this day and age. Being able to spare some fuel to cremate them was already good enough. Those with families would have their ashes entrusted to them; those without would be buried somewhere decent. Then the job would be done.
These people were used to life and death, to parting and loss. Their grief lasted only a short while before they began congratulating Zhou You.
"Not bad, kid. I heard you saved the troupe leader's life at the crucial moment?"
"Fuck, I was sneaking a smoke in the corner, and you're telling me the whole troupe almost got wiped out?"
"Good thing you were there... No need for thanks between brothers. Next time, I'll lend you my Casanova for a few days..."
No matter what they said, Zhou You answered with a smile. He was neither arrogant nor humble. He simply walked to the corner where he usually sat, took an energy gel bar from the ration box, and was just about to fill his stomach.
However, a large hand came down and abruptly grabbed him.
When he looked up, he realized that a fat man in a greasy apron was staring straight at him.
"...Brother Sun? What do you need?"
Brother Sun was the troupe's cook—yes, even though they chewed energy gel