For the first time in her life, Ye Shu ate so much fruit that she became uncomfortably full. A pound of bananas and two pounds of mangoes later, her belly was round and taut.

She glanced around. There was scarcely any place to stand in her room; everywhere was piled high with food, daily necessities, and medicine. She’d even prepared two inflatable rafts—just in case something went wrong, she could escape from the cruise ship at a moment’s notice. One of the rafts was stashed away as a backup in her private space.

Once the secret of sashimi’s peculiar effect became public knowledge among the players, all prior suspicions and caution vanished. Instantly, everyone swarmed the restaurant, and within a few short hours, the sashimi was wiped out.

Motives varied among the crowd. Those who managed to grab some were smug, while those who missed out were left fuming, clamoring for the cruise ship to restock.

Down on deck one, inside a room big enough for a dozen people, the much-coveted sashimi lay discarded on the floor like so much trash. In the stark white light, the pinkish-white flesh still seemed to twitch, quivering as if alive.

It didn’t take long for those who’d eaten it—drawn like hounds catching the scent of raw bones—to sniff their way to the storeroom.

“Damn it! Is this what the staff meant by sold out?”

“We’re the most distinguished guests on the Royal, so what if we eat a little sashimi? Why hide something this good? It’s not like we can’t pay.”

“Name any price, I can cover it. Just give it to me.”

Greed flared in the players’ eyes as they stared at the heap of meat. Perhaps not even they realized how helpless they were before their hunger for flesh.

The nearest one, leveraging a nimble frame, pounced first—ripping off a chunk of meat and wolfing it down, wild as a beast.

The rest surged forward. In no time, not a scrap remained.

On the forum, the screen lit up endlessly with players boasting:

[Little Bear Soft Carbon: Who said sashimi wasn’t edible? Step forward and see if I don’t punch your lights out! In just one day I ate three pounds and boosted my strength by 8 points and speed by 5. Now I’m all about brute force.]

[Salty Egg Ultraman: Not to brag, but I only managed to snatch five pounds, which netted me 10 extra points in strength.]

[Aotu Man vs. Sakura: Damn! Boss level! Poor me, I couldn’t grab even a slice. Regret trusting those rumors about contaminated fish. Is it too late to change sides?]

[Little Century Egg: If only I had tried it... the goddess said she liked me and would’ve just given it to me for free!]

[Great Empire of Sakura: Baka! You dare fight us, the mighty Sakura, for food?]

[Go Die Little Japs: Why are you everywhere? Get lost.]

[Great Empire of Sakura: Baka! Damn you, dare to disrespect me—I’m Admiral Yamamoto of Sakura. Why does this stupid game let people from Dragon Country in? What a mistake.]

[Ding! The Great Empire of Sakura has been muted by the game. You may not post this round.]

[Go Die Little Japs: Finally! Thumbs up for the game’s moderation.]

[Little Bear Soft Carbon: +1, I never liked that guy anyway.]

The scrolling forum was dominated by such trivial chatter. Finding it tedious, Ye Shu stopped reading, turning to gaze out the window instead.

From her 80th floor vantage, she saw everything. Nightmeshed around the ship like a boundless beast. Yesterday, distant lighthouses had been visible. Today, only the void remained.

Ye Shu prepared herself a midnight snack—red wine and fried chicken, the perfect match!

She raised her glass to the reflective pane opposite her, toasting herself, and downed her wine in one long draught.

Good. She had survived another day.

............

The next morning, before she even opened her eyes, Ye Shu caught the faint scent of the sea, but this time it was tinged with something sticky and nauseating.

She checked her surroundings—her water cup still hung on the door, undisturbed; the peachwood sword under her pillow showed no reaction.

But the moment she opened the door, a wave of putrid, suffocating stench hit her—a stench of rotting seafood that could rival chemical warfare.

She quickly donned a mask and popped a preserved plum into her mouth.

The smell seeped from her mother’s room. Even separated by a door, it was overwhelming.

“Knock, knock, knock—”

“Mom, it’s me, Shu Shu...”

It took a long moment before a woman’s hoarse voice answered through the door. “Shu Shu... Mom’s just so tired. Let me rest a while, okay?”

Hearing her mother was still alive, Ye Shu put down the fire axe she’d been gripping tightly.

Her father, on the other hand, made no sound at all. From inside came a strange, guttural scraping—“ka ka ka... sss...”

She lied and said she’d lost the key. Soon, staff brought her a new one.

“Dad... I’m coming in,” she called, opening the door.

Just as she expected, her nominal father lay motionless on the bed—exactly like the couple from the Lin family. He couldn’t move, only breathe. His body was cold: skin temperature only 29 degrees.

On the desk, Ye Shu found a vintage, artificially aged diary. The gray leather cover bore two dark red handprints. She didn’t dare touch it, but used a pen to flip it open.

[August 8: Clear skies. Preparing to take my wife and daughter on the world-famous Royal Caribbean. Shu Shu loves the ocean—for this twenty-day journey, she’s bound to be happy!] [August 9: Overcast. Boarding in a couple days. The sea is calm. Here’s hoping nothing goes wrong.] [August 10: Sunny. Forecast says no rain. Something terrible happened at the nearby harbor—some lunatics bit a bunch of people. Luckily, we’re about to set sail!] [August 11: Clear. Passed by Shu Shu’s favorite bakery. I know my daughter will love it. Got scratched by a crazy person while boarding!] [August 12: Sunny. The cruise is wonderful. I’ve never tasted sashimi this strange before—after eating it, I feel much stronger... Now, what was I about to do?] [August 13: Who am I? What is the Lin Group? I feel like I’ve forgotten something important—ah yes, Shu Shu is still out there... No, wait, Shu Shu is... Don’t eat...]

Past that, only deep, forceful pen strokes—no further entries. The diary ended on August 13. By then, Ye Xiuyuan had nearly forgotten his beloved daughter.

From the first day after being transported into this game, Ye Xiuyuan had already contracted an unknown virus.

It was true what the player forums said: eating the meat really did strengthen humans and give them energy. But as they devoured more and more, they started forgetting—forgetting their families, forgetting even themselves.

An ordinary person would have died after three days without water, but Ye Xiuyuan had gone five days without food... and looked freshly flushed, not a crack on his lips. This far surpassed what Ye Shu knew of human biology.

To prevent any unforeseen change, she tied Ye Xiuyuan up tightly with cord and double-locked the door.

As for her room, there was still peace. But beyond her door, chaos reigned.