Chapter 32

Chapter 32

At the same time Ying Yuanxing received the advertisement, other players in the Weird Game also received the same ad, with varying reactions.

Some players thought it was some kind of Weird Game trap, glanced at it, and immediately deleted it without daring to click, afraid of falling into a scam.

Some players noticed the ad was unusually abrupt, and the wording was peculiar—what did it mean by "selling local specialties to places in urgent need"? The wording raised eyebrows.

Most importantly, when they downloaded and opened the app, they found it looked exactly like the shopping apps commonly used on Blue Star.

Although the world within the Weird Game appeared similar to Blue Star, there were subtle differences—like an imitation. Yet, among all these imitations, a genuine product suddenly appeared, stuck out like a sore thumb.

Even after noticing this, many players chose to lay low. After all, in the Weird Game, impulsive actions leading to death were all too common.

An Geluo also received the ad. At a glance, he suspected it was the work of the Salvation Game. Before entering the game, world leaders from various countries had promised to find ways to make the most of his skills.

While promoting some players into Hongxing Corporation was beneficial, they still had to wait three months to return to Blue Star before they could bring out Weird Artifacts and tools.

But with an online store, even if expensive shipping fees were required after three months, things would move much faster.

An Geluo scanned the ad and immediately wanted to register a store. However, before he could start, he sensed something amiss. Looking up, he saw the manager giving him the evil eye.

His heart tightened, and he quickly opened a work app, barely talked his way out of it.

Frowning, An Geluo didn’t dare use his phone at his workstation and headed to the restroom instead.

Though the restroom was also somewhat dangerous, the Weird Game's creatures took time to manifest. As long as he left before then, the risk was minimal.

In An Geluo’s view, joining Hongxing Corporation had pros and cons. The advantage was he'd have more clout—even back on Blue Star, countless people would be at his mercy. Now, with the ability to open an online store and send Weird Artifacts to Blue Star, his status would rise further.

But the downside was clear. Outside, as long as he avoided dangerous areas, he could come and go as he pleased, even while working for others—freedom was absolute. Now, dependent on Hongxing Corporation’s resources, he couldn’t leave. Working his way up the company ranks step by step was sheer agony for someone accustomed to freedom.

In the restroom stall, An Geluo checked every corner to ensure no surveillance devices were present before opening his phone and swiftly registering a store named "Cross-World Trading Post."

"Congratulations! You are the second store owner on JoyBuy App. As a special gift, you receive one month of free shipping."

Seeing the free shipping offer, An Geluo couldn't hide his grin. Though he didn’t know how much shipping from the Weird Game to Blue Star would cost, free shipping was always better than paying.

Moreover, he was the first to register—didn't this prove he was bolder and more capable of aiding humanity than other players?

He skimmed the message and prepared to leave, but then noticed something odd. Upon closer inspection—he was the second registrant.

Who was the first?

An Geluo’s expression darkened, realizing his earlier pride made him look like a clown. Opening the app’s homepage, he saw the first registered store: "Grandpa’s Farm."

Naming the farm had been a struggle for Ying Yuanxing. Initially, he wanted to use his own name, but it sounded awkward. Using the village name didn’t work either, so he settled on this quirky yet memorable choice.

He also had a sneaky thought—customers might feel nostalgic upon seeing the name, making them more lenient toward the store.

But to An Geluo, the name was an in-your-face taunt, as if declaring, "I’m the grandpa here."

His mind raced, trying to figure out who had the audacity. He mentally ran through every player's name, but none fit.

So absorbed in his thoughts, An Geluo didn’t realize how long he’d been in the restroom. Only when dark water began creeping toward him did he snap back to reality. He barely scrambled out but left the restroom in chaos.

The janitor, arriving in a hurry, reported the damage to the manager. An Geluo was forced to pay for the damages and extra cleaning fees.

If it were just him knowing about these embarrassing incidents, it wouldn’t be so bad. But An Geluo was well aware that countless viewers were watching this scene unfold. The thought of becoming the butt of jokes among others made his face alternate between pale and flushed.

In reality, this humiliation was entirely self-inflicted by An Geluo.

The live-stream audience only saw An Geluo getting slightly delayed. But after the bathroom entity struck, he still managed to escape unscathed—even beating up the bathroom entity—and got off with just a small fine. An Geluo was still a beast.

At most, some viewers were curious about what had captivated An Geluo so deeply that he lost track of time. There was no mockery to speak of—it was simply An Geluo assuming everyone else was as petty as him.

As soon as An Geluo registered his shop, other players still monitoring the app immediately noticed it. While the name of Ying Yuanxing’s registered shop didn’t give away his identity, An Geluo’s shop name made its meaning obvious.

Especially after seeing that early birds got perks, some players took the risk and signed up. Upon discovering that you could ship to Blue Star, they quickly realized this wasn’t a trap set by anomalies but Salvation Game’s doing.

……

Only after registering his shop did Ying Yuanxing realize he was the first user to sign up. Seeing the three-month free shipping offer, he immediately felt like he’d hit the jackpot.

But as soon as the shop was registered, watching the free shipping period start ticking down, Ying Yuanxing inexplicably felt a sense of urgency—FOMO kicking in, as if he’d wasted an opportunity.

Ying Yuanxing promptly prepared to list products. But if he only had one item in stock, wouldn’t that look pathetic? Staring at the hay in his warehouse, he felt the need to find more ways to use it.

The supernatural rooster moped around across the grass when it suddenly picked up a familiar scent. This was…

The supernatural rooster turned its head and, sure enough, there was Ying Yuanxing approaching from a distance. Spotting the rooster, Ying Yuanxing’s eyes perked up—as if he’d come specifically for it.

Could it be that after rejecting it last time, Ying Yuanxing had realized its worth and come back to eat him?

The supernatural rooster clucked scornfully. Last time, it had walked right into Ying Yuanxing’s trap and been captured. Though Ying Yuanxing hadn’t eaten it then, now it was safely inside its master’s enclosure. Even if Ying Yuanxing wanted to eat it now, he couldn’t get in.

The supernatural rooster wanted to ignore Ying Yuanxing, but then Ying Yuanxing made chook-chook noises, infuriating it to the point of steam practically coming out of its ears. Treating it like a chicken was bad enough, but calling it like a dog? That was too much.

Furious, the supernatural rooster charged forward—only to be met with a handful of golden hay as it reached the fence.

What was this?

So fragrant, so fragrant, so fragrant!!!

The supernatural rooster halted mid-step and began pecking frantically at the ground, its head bobbing so fast it left a blur.

Watching the rooster devour the tiny hay pellets, Ying Yuanxing nodded in satisfaction. The hay was indeed something livestock loved.

The reason Ying Yuanxing had come to feed the rooster was to test the hay’s appeal to animals. While hay was naturally meant for livestock, feeding it to fish was a new experiment. But without testing, what if he was wrong?

Now he could stop worrying.

If chickens loved it, birds would too. Selling it as bird feed should work.

As for why not market it as chicken feed—chickens had bigger appetites. Unless the price dropped, no one would splurge on hay for chickens.

But birds were different. Most were kept as pets, some quite expensive, meaning their owners had more cash to burn and were willing to spend on quality feed.

Once he confirmed the results, Ying Yuanxing took off—arriving in a hurry, leaving just as fast.

Between mouthfuls of hay, the supernatural rooster scraped together its few brain cells to ponder: Why had Ying Yuanxing come to feed it?

Was it an apology for last time? A bribe? Or a trick to lure it out? If Ying Yuanxing offered more food, it might consider sneaking out—just for a quick bite before bolting back.

After all, risking it for such delicious fare seemed worth it. The supernatural rooster had it all figured out—until it finished pecking up the last morsel and looked up to see Ying Yuanxing’s retreating figure, without a second glance.

The supernatural rooster had never been in love, but in that moment, it suddenly understood the meaning of love ’em and leave ’em.

When the sharp rooster crowed again, the village chief lay on the bed and struggled to turn over. He didn’t want to go check, suspecting that if he did, he’d just see Ying Yuanxing again.

Though nothing was lost the last time he encountered Ying Yuanxing—even getting a wild fruit in return—it was mentally exhausting, making him feel ten years older. If he went now, wouldn’t he just age another ten?

But even though the village chief didn’t want to go, the sharp rooster cries didn’t stop, making him question what Ying Yuanxing had done to anger the rooster this much.

Alright, I'll check one more time.

With a long sigh, the village chief arrived at the pasture and saw the rooster in a frenzy, though Ying Yuanxing was nowhere in sight—only signs he'd been there earlier.

"Huang Yu, if you keep screaming like this, I won’t be able to look out for you anymore," the village chief said coldly. While he was supposed to look after them, if they went too far, he wouldn’t interfere.

Huang Yu paced irritably, sensing the impatient gaze from afar. He knew the village chief was right—even if his master was powerful, he couldn’t act recklessly in the village. Swallowing his anger, he had no choice but to comply.

"If you have grievances, wait until your master returns and complain then. For now, behave," the village chief said.

Huang Yu fell silent for a moment before nodding.

The village chief had wanted to ask what Ying Yuanxing had done to provoke such rage, but just the thought of Ying Yuanxing made him feel weary. Later, whenever he recalled this incident, he’d sigh in regret.

If only he’d known earlier that his grandfather’s farm was Ying Yuanxing’s farm, he wouldn’t have had to scramble for goods on his phone alongside countless other supernatural beings. Maybe he could’ve even gotten special treatment with Ying Yuanxing.

But alas, life had no "if onlys"—not for humans, nor for supernatural beings.

...

Adding premium fish food and bird food to the listings, Ying Yuanxing hesitated before also adding his homemade dried fish to the shop.

He hadn’t been fishing as frequently lately, but his skills had improved rapidly. Plus, the energy from eating dried fish had to be burned off somehow, so he’d still ended up catching quite a bit.

Since the hay had sold for a high price, Ying Yuanxing felt too embarrassed to include all the tiny scraps when cutting it, so he used them to feed the fish.

The fish could technically be sold, but for Ying Yuanxing, it wasn’t worth the hassle—he'd have to carry them in his nearly-full backpack, and the small profit wasn't worth the effort.

But selling online was another matter. However, fresh fish spoiled too easily, so Ying Yuanxing opted to sell them as dried fish instead.

The main thing was Ying Yuanxing worried that if he only sold fish and bird feed, customers might pigeonhole his shop as specializing in animal feed, making it hard to shift their perception later.

So, listing some food items now would help avoid that problem.

After listing the products, Ying Yuanxing realized he still had to select sales regions.

Seeing that besides domestic sales, products could also be sold internationally, Ying Yuanxing smirked wryly. Was JoyBuy getting ahead of itself? Selling globally? Some items probably wouldn’t even cover the shipping costs—they’d be losing money for the first three months.

Right now, Ying Yuanxing just hoped JoyBuy could hold on long enough not to go bankrupt before he established his shop's reputation. Otherwise, where else would he find such a great shopping platform?

Glancing through all the sales regions, Ying Yuanxing chose domestic only, including remote areas. After all, he wasn’t paying for shipping, and customers who usually had to cover shipping fees would appreciate the savings.

Once everything was set up, Ying Yuanxing noticed other shops had already registered—seemed the app was really pushing its ads!

The fact that they were spending so recklessly made him feel even more at ease.

Curious, Ying Yuanxing clicked on the other shops and found they’d also listed products—but the items were odd. Worn masks, traditional spinning drums, antique mirrors...

It looked like a thrift store operation, but the prices were ridiculously expensive. Staring at a pair of shoes priced at 50,000, Ying Yuanxing checked out the description.

The shoes looked nice—handmade with intricate patterns—but they were obviously worn. The seller didn’t mention their history, only claiming that wearing them increased running speed and helped get away from chasers, complete with a story about the shop owner escaping danger thanks to the shoes.

After a moment of silence, Ying Yuanxing thought his own listings might be too barebones. He’d only took a few quick photos and mentioned how much animals loved the food—not exactly enticing.

Ying Yuanxing looked at other products again and was completely questioning his life choices. Had he missed some software usage rules? Why did other merchants like to showcase their products with stories? Anything could be spun into a short story—was this a shopping app or a fiction app?!

Ying Yuanxing initially wanted to follow other merchants' lead, but after opening the product description editing page and struggling to squeeze out ten words after much thought, he still chose to give up on the trend.

On the plus side, if all other merchants used little stories, customers might quickly grow tired of them and instead find his simple product descriptions refreshing.

Ying Yuanxing soon convinced himself. He noticed that, although less than half an hour had passed, there were already a few views on his products—though he wasn’t sure if they were from customers or fellow sellers.

Scrolling through the homepage’s product recommendations, Ying Yuanxing felt he and his fellow sellers did share some similarities—namely, the high prices. His fish food was priced at 500 per serving, while a competitor selling food had given it a flashy name like "Bone Rice" and was charging 7,000 per serving.

Compared to all these overpriced items, Ying Yuanxing felt his own products could actually be considered reasonably priced and of decent quality.

...

While Ying Yuanxing and his team received the promotional app, humans on Blue Star also received the same promotion—their phones or computers automatically downloaded JoyBuy.

At first, people thought it was some kind of Weird game and were scared out of their wits. Later, the government quickly stepped in to clarify that this was an online shopping app created by Salvation Game, where humans could purchase products listed by Weird game contestants. This calmed the panic but also fueled even greater curiosity.

Ordinary people could only watch the Weird game through livestreams, somewhat like watching TV. However, TV and similar entertainment often conveyed specific messages, whereas the Weird game livestreams only showed the contestants’ general actions. What the contestants saw or the finer details were invisible.

Since recordings and replays weren’t allowed, the average person’s understanding of the Weird game came either from written accounts or drawn images. It wasn’t exactly vague, but it always felt like there was a layer of separation.

And that was just for ordinary content. Higher-level Weird Artifacts and Weird Food were only mentioned in passing, rarely seen.

Now that these items were being listed for sale in online shops, there should at least be some photos, right? Even if they didn’t have Weird coins and couldn’t afford these things, they could at least look.

Many clicked into JoyBuy with curiosity and trepidation. At first, there weren’t many products, but soon, as the first shop registered, more shops and products began appearing.

The shabby appearance of some products, combined with the little stories in their descriptions, had many imagining the bloody battles these items had endured—both thrilling and terrifying, yet also sparking some greed.

On present-day Blue Star, only a very small fraction of people felt no greed toward Weird Artifacts or Weird Food. Some Weird games could be avoided or escaped with wit, but others were solely focused on slaughter—encountering them left no room for strategy, only brute force.

Owning such items meant enhancing one’s own strength, increasing the chances of survival in this dangerous world, and gaining the ability to protect loved ones.

Ying Yuanxing’s livestream.

"lmao, I saw a familiar shop name on JoyBuy—pretty sure it’s the streamer’s shop."

"I saw it too. Absurd, but so on-brand."

"Hey, earlier commenter—let’s confirm. Grandpa?"

"Yep."

"Not joking, not joking—it’s definitely this one."

"Checked it out and saw three products already. Really want to buy, but no money."

"Sigh, most of us ordinary folks don’t have Weird coins. Probably only the government or people who’ve earned them through certain channels can afford them."

"Other shops have already sold a few things, but the streamer’s hasn’t moved. Kinda heartbreaking. Wish I had Weird coins—even if I couldn’t afford the premium fish or bird food, I’d at least buy some fish jerky."

"The fish jerky isn’t that expensive, actually. Compared to fresh fish, it’s pricier at 50 per pound, but the streamer has to make it, plus there’s oil, salt, and other seasonings, and the fish shrinks during drying. The price is fair."

"The streamer’s checking his phone again—probably seeing if anyone’s buying. Reminds me of when I first opened my own shop. Painful to watch."

Contrary to the audience’s pity, Ying Yuanxing was lost in thought as he stared at the product stats.

Three million views, 200,000 in wishlists, zero purchases.

Ying Yuanxing's lip curled. Though he could understand a new shopping app wanting to inflate metrics to create buzz and reassure sellers, the numbers they were faking were so obviously fake.

And they only faked the free interaction stats, not actual purchases—this would only make sellers feel worse!

But Ying Yuanxing quickly realized why they didn’t fake purchases. For other apps, where product prices were low, faking a few sales wouldn’t be a big deal. But on this platform, the prices were absurdly high. Even if the app’s owner was wealthy, they probably wouldn’t be dumb enough to pull such a stunt.

Wait… actually, it seemed they had.

Ying Yuanxing watched as a two-sided mirror listed for 180K Weird coins sold made him gasp.

Whether it was a real buyer or the app owner faking the sale, as long as no refund was issued, that was real money.

Ying Yuanxing was legit jealous. Glancing back at his own products, he silently prayed they would sell soon.

……

Shen Yan was a regular viewer of Ying Yuanxing’s stream. Watching him pray on screen and scanning the comments, she sighed quietly. If she could, she’d buy some dried fish too—but she was broke.

The class bell rang. Shen Yan put away her phone and focused on the lesson. When the dismissal bell sounded, she couldn’t resist reopening the stream. Ying Yuanxing was no longer checking his phone but was instead baking dried fish.

Fresh out of the oven, the fish skins were golden and crispy, looking mouthwateringly good.

Ying Yuanxing tore off a small piece to taste and found the new recipe even more flavorful. He decided to make this his go-to recipe from now on. He considered deleting the old recipe but kept it for old times' sake—after all, it was the result of his earlier hard work.

*That looks so good… I want some.*

Shen Yan’s mouth watered. A classmate passing by in the hallway spotted her and reminded her, “Shen Yan, don’t stay too late. It gets dangerous after dark.”

Research had shown that Weird activity was more frequent and dangerous in the evening and at night. Companies had adjusted by wrapping up earlier, and those who had to work late did so from home.

Schools were no exception. With no option to start earlier in the morning and the same—if not more—curriculum to get through, lunch breaks had been shortened to just one hour. The saved time was used to dismiss students earlier, ensuring they wouldn’t leave too late.

“Got it,” Shen Yan replied with a smile. She packed up, double-checked for forgotten items, and slung her bag over her shoulders. But the thought of going home made her steps slow.

Though the school wasn’t safe at night, home wasn’t much better either.

Remembering the depressed vibes of her neighbors upstairs and downstairs, Shen Yan’s heart sank. She’d learned in school how dangerous such negativity was—it attracted Weirds. She wanted her family to move, but money was the biggest obstacle.

Though the population had decreased since the Weird invasion, living space had also shrunk. Safer housing wasn’t cheap, and the Shen family couldn’t afford to rent those places, forcing them to stay in their old apartment.

Even with Dawn Bureau personnel conducting inspections and clearing negative emotions, the constant dread made Shen Yan reluctant to go home.