The supermarket owner stared at Ye Shu as if she were mad—a young girl, probably fed on apocalypse conspiracy nonsense.
Did she not hear the government’s announcement last night? Troops had already been dispatched to bring artificial rainfall to the drought zones. Besides, Jade Lake City was one of the few cities in Longguo blessed with vast freshwater lakes. Water? There would always be water, surely!
"I'm absolutely sure."
Ye Shu spent every last cent she had stockpiling water. Only after leaving the supermarket did she realize she had no vehicle to transport all this. The owner, seeing her predicament, kindly offered to lend her the store’s delivery tricycle.
Ye Shu immediately thanked him. "Boss, you're a wonderful person! May business boom and fortune favor you!"
The smile at the corner of the owner’s mouth threatened to split his face. Inwardly, he scoffed—of course business would boom, with customers like her. He’d finally cleared out all his backstock and would love for a few more naive suckers to show up.
Ye Shu’s conspicuous activity didn’t go unnoticed.
Oblivious NPCs simply dismissed her as a lunatic, but the players’ eyes were glued to the beds of supplies packed onto the little tricycle. With only 2,000 in starting cash, survival in this world for a month was barely possible on such a meager sum.
So, the players nearby all fixed their gaze on Ye Shu, convinced she must be a greenhorn ignorant of the cardinal law: never flaunt your wealth.
Yang Jiahao was among those watching her closely.
In this game world, as players, they only needed to survive the month to clear the scenario—no laws, no authorities, none of the spinelessness of reality. Emboldened, petty criminals like Yang Jiahao considered robbing Ye Shu’s stash.
It was a hot day and the streets were quiet. When Ye Shu passed through a narrow alley, a group blocked her path. A thug with bleached yellow hair swaggered up and demanded every last drop of water on her tricycle.
"And what if I don’t give it to you?"
Ye Shu actually laughed out loud.
This was a first—someone daring to rob her? Maybe, as Chen Meng once teased, she really didn’t have the look of someone not to be messed with.
Yang Jiahao, for his part, only wanted supplies—not blood. In real life, he was just a two-bit gangster, pilfering pension money from old neighbors at the most, bullying their granddaughters for fun. But seeing Ye Shu’s innocently pretty face, an entirely different thought crept into his mind.
"You're awfully cute," he leered. "New player, right? I'm a vet—let me show you the ropes. All you have to do is…"
His gaze lingered on the fabric stretched across her chest, an unmistakably depraved smile creeping in. Disgust churned in Ye Shu’s stomach.
Ye Shu wasn’t the kind to tolerate filth—not for a second. She drew her pistol and shot the yellow-haired thug in the thigh. Each of his cronies, who’d come to rob her, got a bullet as well—none were spared.
"Grandma, we swear we’ll never do this again!"
"Please, have mercy! We’re begging you—let me kneel and kowtow if you want—"
"We’re all Huaxia players! Why turn on your own kind? Killing us doesn’t help national unity…"
Ye Shu had never intended to start killing so early in the game—it would draw too much official attention. But the yellow-haired scumbag, even with a gun to his face, dared threaten her in the name of the country. Without hesitation, Ye Shu shot him in his other healthy leg.
Their eyes were glazed, already rotten. Anyone who’d commit armed robbery this instantly after entering the game could be no good in real life.
Glancing at her game balance—barely 1,000 left—Ye Shu swept her gaze over the men. She shoved the pistol under Yang Jiahao’s chin, snarling, "This is a stickup! Empty your pockets—every last valuable and your starting funds. I want it all!"
The robbers fell silent.
Weren’t they supposed to be the muggers? How’d it end up like this?
Ye Shu’s robbery was ruthless—a true vulture picking every scrap of meat from the bone. The thugs were stripped as bald as plucked chickens, left with nothing more than their threadbare underpants.
Satisfied, Ye Shu tallied her spoils: eight people, sixteen thousand in cash, with the stolen clothes discarded unceremoniously into a dumpster.
"Grandma… can you let us go now?" one whimpered.
"Did I ever say I’d let you go? Here’s the first lesson, newbies: trust no one in this game. It’s your last lesson, too."
Ye Shu’s eyes curved in a crescent, revealing a row of perfect, grain-white teeth. She ended it for them with several shots.
Driving the tricycle home, Ye Shu surveyed her surroundings: crumbling old buildings, peeling paint barely clinging to the walls. Her brow creased slightly.
In the game, Ye Shu was a simple wage earner—a nobody at her unit, toiling away every day of the year, barely saving a cent. Even after robbing those men, she had just over seventeen thousand to her name—rock bottom by any measure.
Jade Lake City’s rent was sky-high: even a one-bedroom started at five thousand a month. For now, she had to give up on renting anything better.
The old building was decrepit and lacked an elevator, but at least it had few residents.
Trip after trip, Ye Shu carried her water inside, managing it all without attracting a soul’s attention.
Besides stockpiling purified water, she ordered several giant plastic barrels online. For now, the city’s water supply was intact—she could at least fill the barrels for washing and cleaning.
Night fell, the temperature dropping steadily.
Ye Shu seized the moment for another supermarket run. More convenience food: instant noodles, self-heating meals, biscuits, chocolate—all stockpiled by the case. To upgrade her diet, she’d grabbed bags of rice, flour, noodles, and some fruit.
Passing a pharmacy, she swept its shelves bare: oral rehydration, huoxiangzhengqi drops, aspirin, laxatives, masks, protective suits—she bought it all.
That night, her giant water barrels arrived.
It took hours to fill the three barrels—each taller than an adult. Ye Shu stashed one away in her dimensional space, leaving the other two in the bathroom.
All night long, she slept with the air conditioning on, never feeling the heat at all.
"Brrring… brrring…"
Half awake, Ye Shu fumbled under her pillow for her phone. Her fingers froze momentarily as unpleasant memories surfaced. Finally, she pressed to answer.
"Ye Shu, it’s 8:30 and I don’t see you at the office. Getting bold, are you? Skipping out on work, are we? That’s a 500 penalty off your paycheck! And you can forget this month’s performance bonus…"
She immediately recognized the tyrannical roar of her supervisor.
No wonder she’d never saved more than three thousand in two years—the man above her was a wage-devouring demon, always hollering about deductions. This game identity’s monthly salary was a measly 3,500, right? After two thousand in rent, she’d be eating instant noodles plain—couldn’t even afford an egg.
This time, Ye Shu had no patience for it. She slung back, "Screw you, capitalist dog! Deduct my pay and I’ll share that little video of you and the boss’s wife with the company chat—let everyone enjoy that short, stubby body of yours!"
"Ye Shu… threatening me? You want to keep your job? How did you— Ahem. Fine, I’ll give you 5,000, just delete the video… no—50,000! Ye Shu, don’t hang up, we can negotiate…"
His voice wavered, briefly panicked, then firmed up again—sure Ye Shu wouldn’t dare.
Ye Shu promptly sent the video. The man never imagined she really had it. His bluster vanished, replaced by desperate pleading.