The factory building was even larger than they had imagined.
However, the once high-ceilinged, bright, and spacious area had long since been ruined by time and calamity.
Several holes had rusted through the sheet-metal roof overhead, letting morning light filter down and illuminate the dust motes dancing in the air.
Abandoned steel pipes, rusted machinery, and metal parts of unknown purpose were piled around the perimeter, and dried, blackened bloodstains on the floor stretched deeper into the factory.
The moment Cen Yao's group stepped inside, the scattered conversations within instantly died down.
Roughly twenty players were scattered throughout the factory.
Some rested against the walls, some sat in corners clutching their weapons, some huddled in small groups whispering, and others stood guard warily near the entrance.
Seeing newcomers enter, everyone looked up.
Their gazes first landed on the wheelchair-bound Pei Tinglan, swept past Zhu Lingxi, who wore retro attire and had a Nuo mask hanging at her waist, and finally settled on Cen Yao.
To be precise, they stared at the purple witch's robe she wore.
Someone gasped quietly.
“A Witch?”
Though the person's voice wasn't loud, it immediately carried across the quiet factory.
The expressions of the other players shifted instantly.
Some showed shock, some looked probing, and others couldn't hide their burning curiosity.
Ever since the Horror Game descended, players had no shortage of information channels.
Especially for a newcomer like Cen Yao, who had been making massive waves recently. As a player with a Witch Talent, suspected of being able to use multiple schools of magic, and who had consistently demonstrated immense combat power in dungeons, she had long been the subject of countless discussions.
They might not have seen Cen Yao in person before.
But a witch's robe and a wand were simply too recognizable.
Cen Yao swept a calm gaze over the crowd and nodded to the person who had spoken first.
Taking it as an acknowledgment, she then withdrew her gaze.
There were many people in the factory, and consequently, many eyes on her.
Cen Yao didn't like being stared at by a crowd.
She picked a relatively clean spot on the ground and gave a gentle wave of her hand.
A square wooden table materialized out of thin air.
Immediately after, a high-backed chair appeared.
The wooden table landed with a soft thud, and the chair settled sturdily beside it, looking completely out of place in this dilapidated, filthy factory.
Cen Yao sat down, her movements as natural as if she were returning to her own home.
Pei Tinglan sat in his wheelchair, having brought his own seat.
Zhu Lingxi also smoothly pulled a chair identical to Cen Yao's out of the storage bag at her waist and set it down beside her.
Lifting the hem of her skirt, she sat down with her hands neatly resting on her knees, looking incredibly well-behaved.
At that moment, Xie Zhouxing groped his way over.
He heard the sound of the chair landing and the faint rustle of fabric as Zhu Lingxi sat.
In the end, he stood in place for a few seconds, waiting for something that never came.
Xie Zhouxing: “...”
He raised his hand and felt around in the air.
There was indeed a table in front of him, but only three people were sitting around it.
Xie Zhouxing turned his head in disbelief. “Hey.”
“How come only the three of you have seats? Where's mine?”
Cen Yao, who was about to take food out of her storage bag, paused at his words.
“...”
Could she admit that she had forgotten?
Cen Yao slowly raised her head and looked at Zhu Lingxi.
Zhu Lingxi looked back at her, and the two stared at each other for a moment.
Cen Yao's gaze was clear: Do you have a spare stool?
Zhu Lingxi blinked, then shook her head gently.
She did have some bizarre items in her storage bag.
Incense ash, paper talismans, small porcelain bottles, Nuo opera lyrics, needle and thread, spare masks, and various items specifically meant for supernatural dungeons.
But who would enter a dungeon carrying multiple stools for no reason?
It wasn't like everyone had storage bags like they did.
Thus, to the other players, the fact that Cen Yao, Zhu Lingxi, and Pei Tinglan not only possessed storage items but could also pull out tables, chairs, thermoses, and food was beyond ridiculous.
Once Cen Yao and Zhu Lingxi realized this, they turned in unison to look at Pei Tinglan.
Pei Tinglan glanced at them.
Without a word, he unhurriedly retrieved a few cups of instant noodles and a thermos from his storage bag, placing them on the table.
Then, he reached back into the palm-sized pouch once more.
The eyes of several nearby players went wide.
The Horror Game had always been stingy with its players.
There were no universal player inventories, no system spaces, and no infinite storage slots.
If you wanted to bring items into a dungeon, you had to carry them on your back or rely on storage items dropped within the dungeons.
But items found in dungeons weren't necessarily safe.
Some seemingly ordinary suitcases might be filled with severed heads when opened.
Some bags capable of holding supplies would secretly drain their owner's life force if worn for too long.
Not to mention, storage items with special effects were already incredibly rare.
When ordinary players entered a dungeon, most of them would only carry a single backpack.
Packing a few life-saving items, some water, compressed biscuits, and a few hemostatic medicines, bandages, and disinfectants was already considered fully prepared.
Carrying too much made movement difficult and easily turned one into a target.
Moreover, firearms and other thermal weapons couldn't be brought into dungeons at all.
Cold weapons were usable, but they were only effective against monsters with physical bodies.
When facing wraiths, curses, dolls, or rule-based NPCs, holding a machete was no different from holding a fire poker.
In the next second...
Pei Tinglan pulled a small stool out of his storage bag.
Before Xie Zhouxing could react, Pei Tinglan grabbed him and pulled him over.
Pei Tinglan pressed down on his shoulders, forcing him to sit on the stool.
“Whoa, what are you doing? I—”
The second half of Xie Zhouxing's retort was swallowed the moment he sat down securely.
The stool wasn't large, but it was surprisingly comfortable.
Xie Zhouxing went silent for a moment, the dissatisfaction on his face instantly vanishing.
He reached back and grabbed the hand Pei Tinglan had placed on his shoulder, his tone incredibly sincere.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Bro, you're the best.”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
As if he had been burned, he quickly snatched his hand back.
Then, he took a wet wipe out of his storage bag and expressionlessly wiped his fingers.
Xie Zhouxing: “?”
What was that supposed to mean?
Bro?
Had he done something wrong just now?
Xie Zhouxing froze, but when he finally processed it, he felt a wave of sheer malice directed at him.
Having finished wiping his hands, Pei Tinglan tossed the wet wipe aside.
“Don't touch me.”
Xie Zhouxing frowned. “This young master isn't dirty.”
Pei Tinglan looked up at him. “Weren't you dragged underground by a monster yesterday?”
Xie Zhouxing stiffened. He had indeed rolled around in a monster's nest.
But that was last night. After he got out, Black Night had already cleaned him up.
“I've washed.”
“Black Night cleaned me.”
Pei Tinglan: “...”
Cen Yao couldn't help but chuckle softly, while Zhu Lingxi silently pursed her lips.
Hearing their reactions, Xie Zhouxing grew even more indignant.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Nothing,” Cen Yao said immediately.
“Yes,” Zhu Lingxi nodded solemnly. “We weren't laughing.”
Xie Zhouxing: “...”
He might be blind, but he wasn't stupid.
Cen Yao and Zhu Lingxi had already stopped paying attention to him and Pei Tinglan.
The two began taking out food.
Cen Yao pulled a familiar breakfast set from her storage bag.
Steaming soup dumplings and sweet, soft, and glutinous eight-treasure porridge.
There were also freshly fried Chinese crullers, golden and crispy on the outside.
What Zhu Lingxi brought out was a large bowl of Lanzhou beef noodles.
Bright red chili oil floated on the surface of the soup, with thin white noodles submerged in a rich bone broth, topped with sliced beef, scallions, and cilantro.
The moment the noodles were brought out, steam rose, and the aroma instantly wafted through the air.
Meanwhile, Pei Tinglan tore open his instant noodles and poured in the hot water.
The other players in the factory: “...”
A rich aroma of food spread.
The savory scent of the soup dumplings, the sweetness of the eight-treasure porridge, the oily aroma of the crullers, and the fresh fragrance of the beef broth.
And then there was the incredibly domineering scent of the instant noodle seasoning.
While the players present weren't starving, they hadn't eaten actual delicious food from the real world in a very long time.
Smelling the aroma of hot food now, many of their faces shifted.
Someone quietly swallowed their saliva, unconsciously glancing in their direction.
Others looked down at the dry energy bars in their hands, suddenly losing all desire to chew on them.
Smelling the aroma, Xie Zhouxing: “...”
The other players, who not only smelled the scent but also saw the food, gasped, taking in a breath laced with the delicious aromas.
What was that smell? Had he gone so hungry that he was hallucinating?
He quietly pinched himself. Once he confirmed it wasn't an illusion: !!!
“Are you guys eating?”
“Why do I smell bone broth noodles, steamed buns, and Lanzhou beef noodles?”
The silence in the factory became even more bizarre.
Countless eyes landed on the small table in front of Cen Yao and the others.
“Ahem,” Cen Yao coughed lightly, just as she was about to ask Xie Zhouxing what he wanted to eat. Her gaze swept over Zhu Lingxi and Pei Tinglan, who were fully focused on their food.
“Yes. What do you want to eat?” Cen Yao asked.
Xie Zhouxing was taken aback. Smelling the aroma of food before him, a wave of profound grievance suddenly rose in his heart.
Cen Yao, Zhu Lingxi, and Pei Tinglan all had proper seats, and the three of them had food to eat.
Only he was left out. First, he had no chair. Then, after finally being charitably given a small stool by Pei Tinglan, he sat by the side, inhaling the delicious scents for ages.
He even suspected that the three of them had forgotten about him again.
No matter how hard he tried, it seemed incredibly difficult to truly fit in.
It was fine to be forgotten once.
But yesterday Cen Yao forgot to heal him, and today Cen Yao forgot to get him a chair.
And now, when it was time to eat...
Surely she hadn't forgotten again, had she?
The more Xie Zhouxing thought about it, the more bitter he felt.
He lowered his gaze, his long eyelashes casting shadows over his blank, light-colored eyes.
“Anything is fine.”
“It's not like I have the right to choose.”
Cen Yao: “?”
Rate on N.U.
