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Now, only Zuo Chengan had yet to introduce himself. Keeping part of his stats concealed, he said casually, "Zuo Chengan. My Strength is maxed, but my Mind stat is a bit lower—above 60."
He had noticed a pattern: each of the other four players had at least one stat maxed. Using this as leverage, he left a deliberate gap in his statement, subtly implying that his Mind stat was merely in the 60s.
If none of them reacted, he'd assume it was still a safe threshold. But if they did, that would reveal valuable information about the significance of Mind stats.
What he didn't expect was the explosion of reactions—not from the players, but from the floating commentary.
[Holy crap! This guy's Mind is only in the 60s? He's walking on a razor's edge!]
[He might undergo a mutation in this run. I bet he'll sprout rabbit ears like the Red-Eyed. It's its turf after all.]
[Not necessarily! Fear plays a bigger role in triggering mutations. My money's on him morphing into some monster he's encountered before—something that really scarred him.]
[The other players in this run are doomed. If his self-control slips, he might end up as the group's worst enemy.]
…
The cryptic chatter buzzed like static in Zuo Chengan's mind.
The commentary didn't spell anything out, nor did it seem to exist to educate anyone—almost as if it were meant solely to unsettle.
Still, one word stood out: mutation. He mentally filed it away for later analysis and turned his attention to the players' reactions.
Fang Yu furrowed her brow, glancing at her sister Fang You with concern. The younger sibling gave a slight shake of her head, offering silent reassurance.
Relieved, Fang Yu turned to Zuo Chengan and asked, "You've been running back-to-back dungeons at high intensity, haven't you? Once we're out of this instance, you should take at least two days off. Otherwise, your body won't hold up."
Meanwhile, the couple shifted two cautious steps away from Zuo Chengan, their movements subtle but deliberate, as if he were a ticking time bomb.
So mutations are that terrifying? Zuo Chengan's curiosity deepened, the concept now firmly lodged in his mind.
...
"Hee-hee-hee~ My dear players, I've been waiting for you all for some time~"
Without anyone noticing when it appeared, a towering white rabbit—standing upright, clad in a sleek black evening suit with a matching top hat—had materialized beside the bus stop sign.
Its crimson eyes sparkled with mischief as it grinned widely, greeting the players in a high-pitched, childlike voice.
Despite its peculiar appearance, the elegant attire and large frame gave the rabbit an almost surreal coherence. Even its human speech felt strangely natural. But the unblinking crimson eyes locked onto the players, scanning them as though peeling away their facades.
It didn't take long for the group to piece things together.
No wonder the farm was called Red-Eye Farm—this eccentric rabbit was the namesake. Yet, its refined outfit clashed starkly with the rustic farm theme, and the juvenile voice seemed at odds with the title Uncle Red-Eye's Farm.
Rather than a farmer, it resembled a young aristocrat who had just sauntered away from a noble banquet.
Zuo Chengan's gaze, however, wasn't on its appearance. He stared in disbelief at the thin, translucent bar floating above the rabbit's head—a health bar, marked with a percentage.
It's an enemy! It can be killed!
Unbothered by the players' confusion, Red-Eye continued its monologue, voice dripping with exaggerated cheer.
"You've arrived just in time. There's so much work to do on the farm—harvesting ripe tomatoes, herding the playful sheep back home, collecting eggs. I can't possibly manage it all on my own. Thank you so much for coming!"
Its words might have expressed gratitude, but Red-Eye's impatient tone and irritable expression betrayed an entirely different sentiment.
It seemed like it would rather crush the players into pulp than deal with them.
"And since opportunities to work on my farm are so rare and valuable, you'll need to pay a fee for this privilege.
“Don't worry, though—you can owe me for now. 100 Heavenly Ascension Credits will do. Just make sure to pay me later," it added, its crimson eyes gleaming at the mention of money.
Red-Eye swayed its head smugly, shameless in its opportunism. It seemed that anything involving money was the only thing that could spark genuine enthusiasm in the rabbit.
Zuo Chengan's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized both the rabbit and its peculiar outfit. Pay to work? Even the dungeons are following this trend?
[Red-Eye: A manic rabbit—##'s Comment: Strangely Adorable.]
[Bloodstained Evening Suit: Taken from the costume closet in No Escape, a Stage 3 dungeon. The suit was once soaked in blood so thoroughly that it has hardened over time.]
The golden font of the annotations immediately caught Zuo Chengan's attention. Just like in his previous encounters, gold indicated significance.
What intrigued him more, though, was a new discovery—Red-Eye wasn't exclusive to this dungeon.
If it could appear here and in No Escape, did that mean NPCs could freely move between dungeons? Was the game's labor pool so stretched that they had to recycle characters across different settings?
Furthermore, why is the name being hidden again?
He braced himself for the ominous weight he'd felt before when dabbling with forbidden insights. But this time, there was nothing. No suffocating pressure. No impending sense of doom. Just... nothing.
Cautiously, Zuo Chengan pushed further, even hurling a mental insult at the system. Still no response.
Interesting.
…
After the self-introduction and obligatory preamble, Red-Eye led the group toward the farm, a sprawling estate perched on a nearby hillside.
Along the way, it launched into a boastful history of its accomplishments.
"This farm's tomato sauce is our crown jewel! Our loyal customers include Bliss Apartment, Heavenly Ascension Mall, and Rose Hotel. Every harvest season, they place massive orders for our famous sauce…" it declared, puffing its chest with pride.
The rabbit's previously monotone voice grew animated as it spoke of the farm's glory.
With a flourish, it even conjured a jar of Red-Eye Farm Tomato Sauce seemingly out of thin air, holding it up for everyone to admire.
The players listened attentively, not daring to miss potential hints about the mission.
But to their disappointment, Red-Eye shared nothing of relevance. It was all self-promotion and relentless reminders to "pay for the privilege of working."
"Now, dear players, feast your eyes! This is the farm's tomato field. Magnificent, isn't it?"
Turning their attention to the field, the players were greeted by an unnerving sight: rows of plump, crimson tomatoes, each bearing disturbingly lifelike facial expressions resembling cartoonish panda faces.
Even more unnerving, the tomatoes seemed to follow their gazes, turning slightly to "watch" the players with eerie smiles.
The longer they stared, the more pronounced the expressions became. Were the tomatoes grinning at them?
The surreal scene was too much. A collective wave of nausea rippled through the group as they tore their gazes away, unwilling to look again.
But Zuo Chengan's attention stayed on the peculiar fruits. Instead of finding them repulsive, he noted the floating annotation hovering nearby:
[Wailing Tomatoes: A highly sensitive and timid variety, yet incredibly delicious. Handle with extreme gentleness during harvesting. Frightened tomatoes will quickly rot while crying.]
(P.S.: Red-Eye adores these lucrative tomatoes but absolutely despises them being called 'plum tomatoes'!)
Testing his luck, Zuo Chengan offered a neutral compliment, "These tomatoes are stunning. They must be meticulously cared for."
Red-Eye beamed with pride, its mood visibly improving. "Of course! At least one of you players has good taste."
Zuo Chengan blinked. That's it? No reward? What a stingy rabbit!
At that moment, the soft-spoken girl, Youyou, chimed in sweetly, "That's right! Such lovely little plum tomatoes!"
Her voice, though innocent and melodic, triggered an instant reaction.
Red-Eye's expression froze, its head swiveling toward her with mechanical precision.
"You... What did you just call them?" it asked, enunciating each word with a dangerously deliberate edge.
Oblivious to the tension, Youyou continued gushing over the "adorable little plum tomatoes."
Meanwhile, the twin sisters, Fu Yu and Fu You, exchanged uneasy glances.
They had intended to join in with some compliments but hesitated. As they looked at those queer, panda-faced tomatoes, their mouths refused to form the words.