This chapter is broken. Please report this on discord.
Happy reading!
Ongoing event:
1. Every 10 vote on Novel Updates unlock 1 extra chapter! Currently at 16 votes, 4 more for an extra release!
2. Every 3 Patreon subscriptions unlock 1 extra chapter!
Feel free to leave any of your comments below or in Discord.
With 13 points of Speed, a full sprint could cover 100 meters in just six seconds!
Mo Dou, now transformed into a black sheep, charged ahead to clear the path while Zuo Chengan trailed behind in an undignified retreat.
Fortunately, Mo Dou's behavior didn't trigger any warnings from the game. The system likely categorized it as self-defense or a unique navigation method in crowded conditions.
The guilds that treated newly ascended players as precious assets weren't exactly virtuous. Those sent to recruit others often hadn't even reached the 1st Heavenly Ascension themselves.
Lacking fully upgraded stats, these players were quickly left in the dust by Zuo Chengan and Mo Dou, unable to catch even a glimpse of them.
…
Following the signposts, Zuo Chengan led Mo Dou to the safe zone's largest department store.
Here, he planned to buy ingredients for tomato sauce and stock up on supplies.
One could only imagine the storage capacity needed to sustain 100,000 people without local production.
Covering thousands of acres and standing nine stories tall, the store offered everything the real world had—updated in real-time.
Craving a brand of instant noodles usually found abroad? Just check the next shelf.
It could be said that anything you wanted was here—except "porridge," which was clearly a deliberate typo for comedic effect.
As for H products? They were simply adult goods—a legitimate channel for stress relief!
With such a vast area to navigate, it was fortunate that players had stamina and speed far beyond ordinary humans.
The game's assistance ensured that even a simple grocery run wouldn't leave anyone exhausted.
With "food" as the keyword, Zuo Chengan stepped into the department store and was instantly teleported to the food section.
Like a regular supermarket, snacks, instant foods, fruits, and vegetables were all grouped together on one sprawling floor.
"Woof!"
After selecting his items, Zuo Chengan turned to see Mo Dou in the produce section, drooling over fresh forage beneath a protective cover.
Quietly, Zuo Chengan put down the dog food, canned meals, and biscuits he'd picked out, replacing them with bundles of fresh, juicy hay.
No wonder Mo Dou ignored the pet snacks earlier—he is a herbivore!
Had being a sheep for so long made him forget his species' original diet?
Helplessly amused, Zuo Chengan indulged Mo Dou's preference, buying premium hay, fresh cabbages, and carrots.
The safe zone allowed players to keep pets. Some were powerful companions like Mo Dou, while others were ordinary animals.
The pet section even offered protected species from the real world, purchasable with credits.
After all, players had to tackle at least one dungeon per week. Skipping a week meant a steep 100-credit penalty. The constant pressure made companionship essential.
Pets became invaluable for stress relief. A cuddle with one was said to be more effective than any medication.
Of course, people had different ways of coping. Keeping pets was just one option.
…
While shopping, Zuo Chengan tried striking up conversations with fellow players, inquiring about the Great Purge.
But the phrase seemed taboo. Players who were enjoying themselves turned pale the moment they heard it.
No matter how pleasant the chat had been, they quickly excused themselves, their expressions screaming, "Are you insane? Why would you wish for something like that?"
This left Zuo Chengan frustrated and deeply curious. He regretted not keeping Yu Le's contact information—he might've had someone to ask otherwise.
Then there was Red-Eye, who ominously warned that Zuo Chengan would "pay the price" when the Great Purge arrived. Could it be a massive dungeon event?
If only Zuo Chengan could multitask, he wouldn't have to worry about missing critical information. But the livestream comments were a chaotic jumble, with no logical structure.
Reading them was like zoning out in a math class and losing track of the lesson.
Suppressing his questions about the Great Purge for now, Zuo Chengan checked out at the register.
Looking at the bill, he marveled again at the affordability of life in the safe zone.
As long as you avoided weapons and properties, credits stretched a long way.
A shopping cart brimming with supplies, plus two trolleys of hay, cost him just 13 credits.
Of course, this was easy for him to say. Thanks to adding Wang Guangfei as a friend, the man had transferred him a whopping 20 credits as promised.
After shopping, Zuo Chengan's balance had actually increased by 7 credits!
Through casual conversation with Wang Guangfei, Zuo Chengan learned that most players earned between 2 and 20 credits per dungeon run.
Scores over 50 were rare, and 2 credits were the minimum safety net for completing even the easiest dungeons.
In other words, as long as you dared to attempt a dungeon, you wouldn't starve in the safe zone.
Seizing the opportunity, Zuo Chengan casually broached the topic of the Great Purge.
This time, Wang Guangfei offered an explanation.
The Great Purge was the game's method of controlling player population.
With low living costs and detailed strategies, even the weakest players could clear low-level dungeons.
Combined with exemptions for pregnant players from weekly dungeon clearing, the safe zone's birthrate had been steadily rising for years.
Safe Zone 7, established just over a decade ago, still maintained an ideal population of around 100,000.
But older zones like 1 and 2 had ballooned to over 1,000,000 residents, with people sleeping under bridges and occupying every nook and cranny.
When player numbers became unsustainable, the game would forcibly throw them and countless dungeon monsters into a massive, no-holds-barred dungeon for a large-scale purge.
The goal? To quickly reduce the strain on the safe zone.
Even though older zones bore the brunt of these events, newer zones like theirs were inevitably dragged into the chaos. Consent wasn't an option—everyone was swept up in the purge.
…
Hearing this, Zuo Chengan finally understood why player levels in Safe Zone 7 seemed so abnormal.
Ordinarily, higher-level players should be fewer in number. Yet in this zone, there were 20,000 unranked players and 50,000 1st Heavenly Ascension players—a glaring imbalance.
The reason was now clear.