At the storefront, six people stood in a perfectly straight line.
In front of them stood a curly-haired woman dressed in a sharp ladies’ suit, a small mole dotting her chin.
For some reason, despite her calm demeanor, she exuded an almost oppressive air.
Her eyes were filled with an eerie, pitying sort of look, but her tone remained cold and detached:
“So you’re the new employees? I’m the manager of Supermarket No. 13.”
“There are six of you—just right for the six positions we need: three sales clerks, one cashier, one warehouse manager, and one security guard.”
“You’ve got ten minutes to decide who takes what. Once you’ve sorted yourselves out, come to me to receive your onboarding materials and equipment. You may begin.”
With that, the manager stepped aside to give them space to discuss.
The six players exchanged uncertain glances. All they knew was that they’d been recruited to work at this strange store—and had to survive a one-day probation.
No cutscene. No warm-up.
The moment they entered, the manager was already assigning roles. If they hadn’t been mentally prepared ahead of time, they might have missed something important.
“How about we start with introductions?” one of them offered.
“I’ll go first. My name’s Changjiang No. 8. I looked into this dungeon beforehand but found nothing—so it’s probably brand-new.”
Without wasting time, the man in the white T-shirt took the lead.
Thanks to him, the others soon followed suit with their own introductions.
Next came the job distribution.
Since Changjiang No. 8 had broken the ice earlier, everyone instinctively looked to him again to take the lead.
He didn’t disappoint.
“There are six positions, and we don’t know anything about them. I suggest we draw lots. Of course, if anyone has a preference, speak up now.”
“Wait a second—don’t be so hasty.” A woman in a floral dress shook her head. “Let me go ask the manager for details first.”
She actually dared to approach an NPC?
The rest stared at her with something close to admiration.
She could guess what they were thinking. Still, she didn’t bother explaining.
Her username was Jenny Spinning Jenny, and her innate skill was Charm, meaning most NPCs started off with high affection toward her.
That confidence gave her the guts to go poking around for intel.
“Excuse me, Manager,” she said with a sweet smile, trotting over to where the manager sat. “Could I ask you for more details about the positions?”
The manager, Sensitive Plant, found herself oddly drawn to the girl. Her expression softened, and after a moment’s hesitation, she replied:
“Time’s short. I can only tell you about one role.”
Now, even that was bending the rules.
If anyone else had asked, she wouldn’t have said a word.
Jenny Spinning Jenny beamed. Without hesitation, she made her choice:
“Then I’d like to know more about the sales clerk role.”
There were three clerk positions, so even if the role wasn’t all that special, it had the best return on investment.
The manager didn’t seem surprised.
“We have three sales departments: clothing, food, and household goods. Each clerk will be assigned to one of these areas and will need to meet a specific sales quota.”
Though moved by Jenny’s charm, she still kept her wits about her. What she revealed wasn’t anything the players wouldn’t find out soon anyway.
Jenny’s smile didn’t falter, though her brows twitched. Clearly, this NPC had some resistance to her skill—which meant she was probably a key figure.
The others had overheard the conversation.
Now back in the group, Jenny’s intel sparked a wave of contemplation.
Then the muscle-bound hulk Old Iron flexed his biceps and declared, “I’ll take the security guard spot. No objections, right?”
Security likely meant facing danger—but also meant he’d probably get a weapon.
With his confidence in his physical strength, Old Iron believed that no monster or ghost could withstand a proper punch backed by righteous muscle.
No one objected.
If someone was willing to volunteer for the dangerous job, everyone else was more than happy to let him take it.
“Um… I’ll take warehouse manager,” piped up the next one: Fool’s Luck.
It had to be said—his name and appearance matched hilariously well.
Mushroom haircut, thick black-rimmed glasses… he looked like a walking stereotype of a dimwit.
He originally wanted to be a sales clerk—more people meant safety in numbers—but once he heard they’d be working solo, he changed his mind.
Warehouse work sounded like it didn’t involve customer interaction at all. That sounded much safer.
Someone else clearly had the same idea. A girl seemed about to argue for the warehouse spot, but she held back—for now.
“I’ll be a sales clerk then,” said Jenny Spinning Jenny.
With her Charm trait, she wasn’t afraid of NPC interaction. Sales suited her just fine.
But the moment she made her choice, an awkward silence fell over the group.
Only two sales clerk roles and one cashier role remained.
The sales roles were fine. But… no one wanted to be the cashier.
It didn’t take much thought to realize that being the cashier was probably extremely dangerous.
They’d interact with the most customers and handle complex money transactions—it screamed “trap.”
As usual, Changjiang No. 8 was the one to break the silence.
“I’ll take the cashier role. In exchange, I want 10 points from each of you once the dungeon ends—win or lose.”
Clearing an E-rank dungeon rewarded 50 points. Resurrection cost 100.
If five people gave him 10 each, even death wouldn’t be a huge loss.
And if they won?
Jackpot.
Everyone hesitated, then quickly agreed.
Compared to risking team harmony or being stuck with the role themselves, 10 points was a bargain.
With that decided, the final two sales clerk positions went to Mimiko and Zhao Qian Sun Li.
After job selection, Sensitive Plant handed each person a job-specific employee manual.
“The rest of you—follow me. Changjiang No. 8, stay at the front counter. You’ll find your manual more useful once you’re on-site.”
As the others disappeared deeper into the store, Changjiang No. 8 flipped open his manual: Cashier Rulebook – Supermarket No. 13
Working hours: 8:00–20:00.
Break time: 12:00–14:00.
For both store profit and employee safety, you must strictly adhere to the following:
- Wear the blue staff uniform and ID badge during work hours.
- The customer is always right. Smile at all times. Fulfill every customer request—no exceptions.
- There are no employees wearing red uniforms. If you see one, do not speak to them.
- The manager is trustworthy. She will assist competent staff.
- Security is for handling some dangers. You may call them.
- However, there is no danger inside the supermarket. Do not call security.
- The cashier counter is absolutely safe. Cashiers must never leave it for any reason during work hours.
- Remain alert. Master the cash register system. Ensure transaction accuracy. Any cash discrepancies will be deducted from your wages.
This supermarket uses two currencies.
Customers wearing red elements will pay with special currency.
Handle both types carefully.
Only eight rules.
But with six different roles, each with their own set, that made quite a lot of rules overall.
Changjiang No. 8 wasn’t interested in the others’ manuals.
He buried himself in studying his own.
So far, this dungeon didn’t seem dangerous.
But he was sure of one thing: the threat would come from the customers.
Based on the rules, the cashier counter was a “safe zone.”
As long as he didn’t leave it, he should be fine.
Which meant the real danger would be… cash handling.
He turned his attention to the register.
It was nestled in the back of the counter, close to the wall—far enough that customers couldn’t reach it without leaning over.
Pretty standard setup: computer, scanner, and a register drawer.
Opening the drawer, he immediately saw what the manual had warned him about—two currencies.
One looked familiar: real-world money.
The second, though… looked identical—except it had no color.
Yes.
Unlike the vibrant hues of normal cash, this one was black and white.
Monochrome money.
“…Used for the dead, maybe?” he muttered.
Then froze.
Wait.
In a horror dungeon like this, that throwaway joke… might actually be true.
Well, whatever the case—he’d have to watch out for customers wearing red. That much was clear.
Still, something about the rules didn’t sit right.
He skimmed them again—and spotted it.
Several rules contradicted each other.
Rule 6 said never to leave the counter.
But Rule 2 said to fulfill every customer’s request.
What if a customer asked him to leave?
And Rule 5 first said to call security if there’s danger—then immediately claimed there was no danger and told him not to call.
So which was it?
A chill ran down his spine.
These rules weren’t as straightforward as they looked.
There were traps hidden in plain sight.
He rubbed his temples. These weren’t just safety instructions—they were tests. Landmines.
He’d have to test them carefully. Trial and error.
As he steeled his nerves—The front door creaked open.
A cheerful voice rang out:
“Welcome!”
The First Customer of the Day Had Arrived.
Outside the supermarket, Su Shisan, listening through her earpiece to updates from Mimosa Pudica, turned to Zhen Jin and said, “Don’t go near the household goods section later.”
According to intel from Mimosa Pudica, the player assigned to the household goods section likely possesses some ability to charm NPCs.
That’s why Mimosa deliberately placed them in the most dangerous area. Just in case, it’s best not to send the only real NPC present into that zone.
Zhen Jin nodded obediently. He had already shifted into the form of a shriveled old lady, ready to give the players a hard time.
That’s right—while in this instance it’s the customers wearing red elements who are heavily polluted, the regular customers aren’t exactly friendly either.
Players, in this game setting, are like fresh sacrifices offered to the eerie unknown.
They can take the place of other residents in the neighborhood—offering their lives to soothe the polluted presences. At least, that’s how the ordinary residents see it.
But to those deeply corrupted customers, players with high sanity but weak defenses are simply… fresh, delicious food.
Su Shisan was playing the role of both a corrupted and a normal customer, while Zhen Jin only needed to act as a regular one.
Their shared goal was simple—drive the players into violating the rules, lose SAN (sanity), and eventually be devoured by the supernatural.
Su Shisan entered first, meant to set an example for the new NPC. Before going in, she even removed her title of “Newbie Meat Grinder”—after all, she was just playing a regular customer for now.
No need to go all out.
As the first customer to appear, of course, she wouldn’t immediately reveal herself as a corrupted one. Su Shisan portrayed a tall, thin female resident with sunken cheeks—a malnourished appearance.
Here, only the corrupted had the luxury of looking healthy or overweight. The constantly anxious normals rarely got the chance to plump up.
“Oh, a new cashier, huh?” Su Shisan decided to give the new hire a little “welcome gift.” Her expression was one of open delight—but with a malicious undercurrent hidden deep in her eyes.
“Nice to meet you!”
Though her words seemed friendly, Changjiang No. 8 (the cashier player) remained alert, his face set in a professional smile.
“Welcome to Thirteenth Supermarket.”
She didn’t give him any time to prepare. Su Shisan fluently rattled off a list:
“I’d like three pounds of pork, three pounds of oranges, three bottles of mineral water, and three bags of rice. Could you estimate the total cost for me? I’m afraid I didn’t bring enough money.”
In that instant, Changjiang No. 8 felt like he was back in grade school—facing a basic arithmetic problem.
Except he had no idea how much anything cost.
So, even though the math was simple, he couldn’t give her an answer.
“I… I… I…”
Frantic, he scanned the cashier area—and finally spotted something inside a partially opened drawer: a price chart titled “Thirteenth Supermarket Product Pricing Table.”
But Su Shisan clearly wasn’t about to let him get that far. She shook her head with a disappointed sigh.
“You didn’t prepare in advance? Tsk. You’re not a qualified cashier, are you?”
Each word struck like a blow, her venom nearly spilling from her eyes.
In this game setting, if a customer finds a justifiable reason to label a player “unqualified,” the player loses a significant chunk of SAN value.
A drop in SAN leads to mental fatigue, hazy thinking, even hallucinations. And in that fragile state, players are more likely to make mistakes under customer pressure—creating a vicious cycle.
But players aren’t easy prey—especially those gutsy enough to choose the most dangerous role. With his mental alarms blaring, Changjiang No. 8 blurted out instinctively: “Please give me one more chance!”
The moment he spoke, Su Shisan saw the SAN bar above his head—which had just dropped by 30—snap right back to full.
She also sensed her current strategy wouldn’t work on him again for the next ten minutes.
Ah… a once-per-instance recovery skill. No wonder he dared take this job.
But despite neutralizing that one crisis, Changjiang No. 8 felt far from relieved. In fact, he was downright miserable.
His talent skill could be upgraded in the future, granting more retries. But for now, he only had two uses per instance.
And he had just burned one… on the first customer.
What was he supposed to do for the rest of the shift?
Su Shisan, of course, had no idea what kind of despair he was wallowing in.
Seeing that her little trick hadn’t worked, she just snorted, “Hmph. I’ll give you a pass this time. But next time you slack off like that, I won’t be so forgiving.”
Though she wore an angry expression, she was calm inside. The real test at the cashier station wouldn’t come until the corrupted customers showed up. This was just the appetizer.
Meanwhile, in the food section, Mimiko, now in uniform with her neat high ponytail, was busy organizing the shelves row by row.
This was one of her designated tasks—and so far, nothing seemed out of place.
When she noticed a gaunt woman approaching, her expression turned serious for a second, then immediately shifted into a polite smile.
“Welcome! Can I help you with anything?”
“I’d like to buy some fruit,” Su Shisan glanced at the display.
“Could you recommend something?”
Mimiko blinked, then quickly responded, jogging over.
“Of course! What do you usually enjoy? Our apples and pears are really fresh, and we just got in some lychees.”
She had worked at a supermarket in real life, and though she used to slack off on the job, she still knew the ropes.
Even if she hadn’t sold pork herself, she’d seen it sold plenty.
Su Shisan wandered over to the apple stand, flashing a sly smile. “Is that so? Then let me pick some apples.”
Seeing that smile, Mimiko immediately sensed something was off and rushed to intervene.
“Why don’t I help you pick? These are the freshest—”
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