Gregory had been observing her intently. Seeing her arms wrapped tightly around herself, he couldn't help but touch his own hand. He couldn't help but admire this female player—so young in appearance, yet possessing such remarkable endurance. He had been unable to suppress his screams, yet she had remained silent throughout, a true force to be reckoned with.
"Hey, you…" one player began hesitantly, glancing between Gregory and Eric. Gregory had demanded a healing pack in exchange for information; he wondered if this woman would be equally calculating.
Another player, less concerned with tact, asked directly, "What did they make you do over there?"
Eric lacked the strength to respond; the sound of gnashing teeth still echoed in her ears.
"Hey! Why aren't you saying anything?"
"Show some respect… Little sister, Auntie is asking you, what did they have you do just now?"
Manager Zhou chimed in softly, "Are you feeling unwell? Take your time; you can tell us later."
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Eric replied weakly, "The beast's head devours people."
Four words were enough for the seasoned players to grasp the horror. Manager Zhou, however, only half-understood. The beast's head devours people?
"Then how are you still alive?" He turned to Gregory, who also survived. How had they managed it?
Heather explained the existence of healing packs.
Manager Zhou exclaimed in astonishment, "Such a miraculous thing exists!" Then it dawned on him—he was a newcomer, lacking the points to purchase a healing pack. If he were called upon to feed the beast's head, what would he do?
The thought filled him with anxiety. His eyes darted around before he grasped Heather's hand. "Young lady, you look about the same age as my daughter. I'll shamelessly call myself Uncle Zhou. Could you lend me a healing pack? Once I clear this dungeon and earn points, I'll buy one and return it to you!"
"I… I…" Heather hesitated. Completing a dungeon only yielded four points; a healing pack would cost half of that. She couldn't bear to part with it, let alone risk lending it. What if Manager Zhou failed to clear the dungeon? She'd be at a total loss.
"Please, young lady, help me out!" Manager Zhou pleaded earnestly. Heather glanced at the other players, hoping someone would intercede. Gregory remained indifferent, while the other two players feigned disinterest. Biting her lip, she looked to Eric, who was still crouched, recovering.
"Let's move!" At that moment, the tomb raiders up ahead called for them to proceed, with two more bringing up the rear, barking orders for the players to follow. This provided Heather an escape. She quickly bent to lift the crate, and Eric stood to take the other side.
"Could all these crates contain explosives?" Heather attempted to divert the conversation. "With this much, they could level the entire tomb!"
A raider turned and lashed out with a whip, most of the strike landing on Heather, though Eric, standing nearby, caught a glancing blow.
Eric didn't utter a sound.
As they carried the crate forward, Eric saw the door swing open, the grotesque beast's head tilted to one side, its gaze seemingly mocking them all.
Stepping inside, Eric's eyes were met with a glimmer of golden light. Before she could speculate, the raiders ignited torches along the walls, their flames dispelling the darkness and illuminating a resplendent chamber that had lain dormant for years.
"Hiss! We've struck it rich!"
"Heavens, boss, look! It's all gold! Pure gold!"
The raiders erupted into frenzy, leaping and capering about, their hands eagerly exploring the treasures.
Eric, too, was stunned by the sight. Everywhere she looked, there was gold—gleaming, radiant, and utterly mesmerizing.
Gold, so much gold!
The players were equally awestruck, their eyes alight with a mix of excitement and greed.
The raiders, now too preoccupied to monitor them, allowed the players to crouch and touch the floor tiles—each one a solid gold brick. Such extravagance!
Yet the players quickly regained their composure.
This was dungeon gold. Even if they could excavate a massive chunk, what good would it do? They couldn't take it with them. Gold's allure lay in its utility after resurrection, but they were fated to leave it behind.
A few longing glances and touches would have to suffice.
Eric, however, began to scheme. She could find an opportunity to stash some in her inventory. While she lacked for nothing, who would turn down more gold? If she couldn't spend it all, she could donate it—gold would make for excellent charity.
Since discovering the extraordinary nature of her supermarket, she had felt blessed. Believing that abundance should be shared, she had begun engaging in charitable acts—donating money, goods, and volunteering in her community.
Though the idea had taken root, Eric found no immediate chance to pocket any gold.
The tomb raiders fervently clawed and scraped at the vast gold slabs, their brilliance captivating yet their extraction arduous. Despite several working in unison, they struggled for a long while to pry a single floor tile loose; attempts to dismantle the wall bricks fared no better, yielding only fragments of rubble.
The blue-scarfed leader regained his composure and commanded sharply, "That's enough! Cease your efforts. There must be more treasures deeper inside. For now, we abandon this chamber."
His authority was undeniable, and the others promptly obeyed.
The procession pressed onward.
This chamber was elongated; at its terminus stood another door, likewise adorned with a beast's head. This time, Manager Zhou was summoned.
His face drained of color. "I—I—"
He had no healing pack.
Unaware of such items, the raiders considered these individuals merely undead villagers—the most valuable living bait for this venture.
"Quit dawdling!" A crack of the whip lashed out; Manager Zhou leapt in pain from the strike.
Trembling, he advanced, glancing back at the players; none could come to his aid.
Once again, the raiders guarded the door fiercely. Yet, armed with Eric's insight, Heather and three others braced themselves for what would ensue. Gregory sat upon a crate, feigning indifference toward the portal, but Eric noticed him gripping his hand tensely, his expression taut.
She seated herself beside him, eyes fixed upon the raiders.
Soon, Manager Zhou's agonized screams pierced the silence.
"Let me go! Let me go! Aaaah!"
"Seize him!"
His wails were harrowing; Heather and the others felt their scalps prickle with dread.
The stench of blood permeated the golden chamber.
Gradually, Zhou's cries waned to silence.
"Damn it, this one's a fake undead villager!" the raiders shouted furiously.
The blue headscarf eyed the motionless form; Zhou's arms and legs had been devoured, yet unlike the genuine undead, no regeneration ensued. He frowned. "Forget it. There are five others. Two have proven undying; fresh bait is assured."
Sated, the beast's jaws released the pristine golden door, which slowly cracked open under the raiders' practiced pushing.
"Let us proceed," the blue scarf asserted, leading the way.
Upon entering, the players glimpsed Zhou's discarded corpse in a corner. Heather's face contracted with pity. The other two players glanced briefly before stepping over the threshold, while Gregory lingered for a moment longer.
Eric paid no heed. With Zhou dead and no one assigned to his crate, she preemptively claimed it, signaling her reluctance to continue partnering with Heather. Ignoring Heather's complex, aggrieved gaze, Eric hoisted the crate and stepped from the golden chamber into a larger, even more opulent vault.
"Wow! We're rich! Rich!" the tomb raiders howled.
This chamber was brimming—not empty. The floor was heaped with a dazzling array of golden artifacts and treasure chests. Along the golden brick walls stood statues, candelabras, all crafted lavishly in gold—sheer opulence embodied.
The tomb raiders descended into madness, stuffing pockets to bursting, adorning themselves with trinkets from head to waist, roaring ecstatically.
One player, enticed, stepped forward—but a frenzied raider whipped out cruelly like a miser guarding his hoard: "Get back!"
The player paled, retreating hurriedly.
"Bring over the crates and empty their contents!" the blue headscarf ordered.
A raider approached, unlocking the chests in turn and commanding the players to clear them.
Eric lifted a lid, finding only stones inside.
Except for Heather's crate, which contained explosives, the others were filled with mere rock.
"What… what is this about?" Heather was perplexed. Why make them haul stones?
After inspection, Eric confirmed the contents were ordinary stones. Seeing the raiders hauling empty crates to fill with gold, a thought struck her: save for the crate with explosives, the others were mere decoys designed to keep players busy. She hadn't forgotten her role in this dungeon—"laborers" hired from a place called the Undying Village.
While ostensibly porters for the raiders' goods, in truth they were bait for the beast's jaws.
The raiders could never openly disclose this grim purpose—who would willingly accept such a role? Hence, the laborers were tasked with hauling seemingly useful items—to stave off idleness and complications once underground.
Dungeon logic was seldom flawed; Eric believed her supposition had near certainty.
Other players grappled with similar thoughts, yet no one voiced them. A subtle antagonism simmered amongst players—none wished to be fodder for the beast. If one refused, another must be sacrificed. Would that other be willingly so?
Thus, relations among players had grown fragile and fraught.
Heather bit her lip, glancing toward Eric, who deliberately avoided her gaze. Eric pondered: since the NPCs used players as bait, could the players band together to turn the tables—using the raiders as offerings to open the gate?
The thought flickered briefly; surveying the group, Eric assessed their numbers, trust, and cohesion—they were severely disadvantaged. The raiders were formidable, well-armed, and undoubtedly prepared the laborers thoroughly before venturing underground.
Soon, the raiders gathered all the treasures they could carry.
Yet, over eighty percent of the golden valuables remained, too precious to forsake.
The raiders were reluctant to surrender.
Even the blue-scarfed leader had not anticipated such a smooth haul. He tucked away his heirloom treasure map, maintaining a composed demeanor, though two flushed spots of exhilaration bloomed on his cheeks.
"All right, let's transport this batch first. Once we find the exit, we'll haul out what we have and then return for more!"
"Bravo! Long live the boss!" the raiders cheered, raising their hands in fervent agreement.
Who would willingly relinquish such a vast golden chamber? Certainly, they would come back for a second round!