There was a maroon fruit, somewhat akin to a cherry tomato, its peel already shriveled. I didn't know whether it was naturally like this or had dried up later on. If it had dried up later, selling such a product to customers would be rather immoral. Almost all the vendors were selling this type of fruit. Gu Mian even walked forward, picked up a few to examine them. There was nothing special. No characteristics that would make them poisonous upon contact…

The wind never ceased, making the corners of the vendors' stall cloths flutter. A few fruits rolled into the middle of the road, carried by the wind. A vendor, head down, stretched out his hand, woodenly smoothed the tattered cloth of his stall, and continued to stare fixedly at the ground. The few lone fruits remained lying in the middle of the street, ignored by everyone.

People came and went on the street. Occasionally, a lady with her head held high or a neatly dressed man would pass by the vendors. All of them looked straight ahead, seemingly disdainful of the stalls lining both sides of the street. A lady in white leather shoes, head held high, stepped on one of the small fruits in the middle of the road as she walked. The maroon fruit instantly burst, its bright red juice splashing everywhere. Some of it even landed on the lady's white shoes, and a few drops splattered onto the shoes of nearby people. But the lady didn't care, and neither did anyone else. Still with her head held high, she walked down the brightly lit street, her chin lifted, seemingly showcasing her noble identity with every step. Gu Mian glanced at the white shoes, then averted his gaze.

The most conspicuous person on this street wasn't the lady who had stepped on the fruit, but a little girl standing not far away, her eyes glued to the pastries in a shop window. Children her age were rare on this street, and she was dressed in particularly eye-catching rags—indeed, the tattered little girl was more conspicuous than others. Moreover, she was carrying a basket disproportionately large for her small frame. It looked rather comical, as if she were a naughty child who had sneaked out with her parents' grocery basket to play.

Gu Mian naturally walked towards her. As he drew closer, the light from the display case allowed him to clearly see the items in the little girl's basket: three lighters. A gold one, a silver one, and an ordinary one. The bottom seemed to be lined with a layer of tattered cloth.

Just as Gu Mian suddenly remembered something, the little girl in front of the window evidently noticed him too. She tilted her head, looking over at him and meeting his gaze. Then, Gu Mian saw her lips part, and a sweet voice emerged, "Sir, would you like to buy a lighter?"

Look, what a familiar plot this is. If the lighters in the basket were replaced with some primitive matches, this would be the classic 'The Little Match Girl' story. Times are always progressing, and even NPCs in instances aren't willing to be left behind. This one before him clearly had a strong enterprising spirit. The 'Little Match Girl' had abandoned outdated matches and switched to selling lighters…

While Gu Mian was still marveling at the progress of the times in his heart, the little girl in front of him spoke again. This time, however, her tone changed, as if she was growing impatient, or perhaps she thought Gu Mian wouldn't buy her lighters. A somewhat cold voice came through, tinged with a sinister air, "Sir, are you buying or not?"

This tone was like that of a domineering street vendor using high-pressure sales tactics, the kind who would be very displeased if you bought too little. Gu Mian looked down at the little girl selling lighters in front of him. She was looking up at him, her face already showing some displeasure.

Faced with such aggressive sales tactics, Gu Mian would naturally rise to resist. He adjusted the guitar on his back, then stared intently at the little girl before him and slowly said, "I'll… take… them… all."

The night passed very slowly. 007 had managed to gather a few bundles of dry branches with great difficulty. By the second half of the night, she couldn't bear the cold and hunger any longer and planned to take a short nap in the lean-to. She hadn't expected to sleep so soundly; when she opened her eyes, the sky was already bright. 007 scrambled to her feet, patting the dry grass off herself. What happened? How did I sleep for so long?

To enhance her constitution, she entered an instance almost every day. Although one's body wouldn't be harmed in an instance, mental damage was unavoidable. Continuously entering instances without a break would affect one's spirit. However, to strengthen herself, 007 didn't stop entering instances. She had invested all her Attribute Points into spiritual power, which was how she barely managed to cope. Her stats panel was slightly stronger than others—just slightly. This was because dying in an instance would cause a loss of Attribute Points, Game Coins, or items. She had nearly lost everything a few times but had managed to build it all back up by continuously entering instances. Theoretically, her spiritual power should have been enough to allow her to go two nights without sleep without feeling too tired. Yet, in this instance, she couldn't even last the first night and fell asleep.

007 propped herself up against the grass shelter. Her prominent spiritual power meant other deficiencies; her stamina wasn't very good. Now, hungry and cold, she felt a bit unsteady as she suddenly stood up. As soon as she got up, she scanned her surroundings. There were no threats, and 007 breathed a sigh of relief. I'm really lucky. She had slept at the edge of the forest and woken up without a scratch. And this is supposed to be a Mysterious Dungeon.

The daytime temperature here was quite considerable. The sun in the sky dispelled the cold, making one feel warm and comfortable. 007 supported herself for only a short while before heading towards the town. Could it be because it was too cold last night, and I was too hungry, so my stamina didn't hold up and I slept through? It seems I'll have to strengthen my stamina attribute in the future…

As she pondered this, she weighed the few bundles of dry branches in her hand. She had only managed to gather this much in half a night. Theoretically, the edge of the forest shouldn't lack dry branches. 007 didn't know how much these dry branches would sell for—perhaps not enough to buy a lighter. However, she could go to town first to check the prices and see what customers needed, what sold well, and what was most profitable. She needed to investigate all of this. If the dry branches were truly worthless, she could find something else to sell. Yesterday, she really hadn't expected dry branches to be so scarce, which was why she had come here to gather them without hesitation. The dry grass underfoot made a CRUNCH CRUNCH sound as she stepped on it. 007 stomped a few more times before continuing towards the town.

The main street was as bustling during the day as it was at night. However, because the sun hung high, the nearby shops didn't need to turn on their lights. Without the lights, the street seemed to be missing something at first glance. 007 quickly found the spot where the tattered little girl had been yesterday. Sure enough, she was still standing there in the distance. 007 quickened her pace in that direction for a few steps, but then she suddenly realized something wasn't quite right. From afar, she couldn't see the little girl clearly. It was only after running a few steps forward that 007 noticed the peculiarity.

She seems… fatter? And a little shorter? 007 stopped, frowning as she observed the figure of the 'little girl' not far away. The figure had its back to her, and the basket that had been slung over 'her' arm yesterday was now on the ground beside 'her'. People were coming and going, but no one seemed to notice anything unusual about this 'little girl,' nor did anyone spare more than a glance at her basket.

007, suspicious, took a few more steps forward and began to observe carefully. Soon, she discovered some extraordinary things. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell slightly agape. This, this, this… Then, right before her eyes, the 'tattered little girl,' seemingly a bit impatient, stood up, still with 'her' back to 007.

That's right, the 'little girl' was squatting just now. Wait, that's not a little girl!

007 couldn't understand why, after just one night's sleep, the little girl selling lighters had turned into a young man selling lighters. Moreover, this young man seemed to have inherited the little girl's clothes, wearing them like a cape. He was seen sorrowfully brushing the tattered fabric of the clothes, as if wanting to cover up the holes. Fortunately, he was wearing a white coat underneath, so he wasn't so deranged as to appear in public wearing only that tiny garment.

Just then, 007 again saw the guitar case lying in front of the man, with only a corner visible. Seeing this guitar case, she suddenly understood something. Isn't this… the Forest Ghost from last night? The one who, despite being a Doctor, wouldn't sacrifice his passion for music for his career—of course, this was just 007's assumption.

In that instant, 007 wasn't sure if she should leave or go up and greet him… She wasn't at all sure if this person was a player. Besides, the sudden appearance of this white figure in the forest last night had given her a real fright. Speaking of which, 007 admitted to herself that she had only been truly frightened twice during this current instance. One time was in the forest, in front of the wooden cabin, when she heard tragic screams coming from inside, like a scene from hell. At that moment, she felt she was only a hair's breadth from death. The second time was being startled by this white figure, though the impact was much less than the first.

At this moment, 007 recalled her previous few disastrous deaths in instances. Each death had been incredibly gruesome, but what was even more miserable was taking stock of the few possessions she had left after exiting the instance. Thinking of this, she took a slight step back. Of the Thirty-Six Stratagems, fleeing is best… However, seeing Gu Mian's white coat, she hesitated again. Characters in an instance wouldn't usually dress like this…

And just as 007 hesitated, she suddenly noticed that the guitar case in front of the man wasn't properly zipped, and something inside was glinting. 007 took a step forward, wanting to see more clearly. Why would a guitar reflect light? Could it be that it's not a guitar inside? But very quickly, she saw clearly what was inside. Upon seeing the object inside, her previous hesitation instantly turned into decisiveness.

007 didn't delay for a moment. She turned and bolted, running even faster than she had in the forest.

Players all have inventory slots! Why would anyone carry such a heavy chainsaw around?

Players can't even attack ghosts in an instance! So, even if he is a player, that chainsaw must be for killing other players!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.