After a hectic morning—especially with all the face-changing and role-playing—Su Shisan was completely drained.
Sure, the system had gifted her with MAX-level acting skills, but acting was exhausting no matter how good you were.
And worse yet, her audience this time had been players—human players. That meant more brainpower, more effort.
Too tired to even speak, she simply waved her hand, took a shower, changed into pajamas, and collapsed straight into bed.
While she slept, the outside world was far from idle. Just like last time, the White Knight Guild had picked up the signal of a new dungeon.
“A new instance called Supermarket No. 13… doesn’t that name ring a bell?” Xiaoqing asked, rubbing her chin. Her talent skill allowed her to monitor the appearance of new dungeons in real time.
Useless on its own, this skill became incredibly valuable when used for the guild. That’s why they kept her on a pedestal.
Her supervisor, who had a good relationship with her, frowned in confusion. After a moment, she finally recalled, “That Perfect Companion of No. 13 dungeon… that had the number 13 too.”
The name had lingered in her mind—not because of anything special, but because no one had managed to clear it for a very long time.
Xiaoqing clapped her hands.
“Yes! That’s the one! And this new dungeon also resulted in a full-party wipeout. Could it be from the same series?”
Some horror-survival dungeons belonged to the same universe.
Players typically grouped these into “series.” Whenever a new dungeon was suspected to be part of an existing series, a dedicated archive would be set up to track its worldbuilding.
Identifying a dungeon’s universe early meant players could anticipate monster types or uncover lethal rules in advance—massively improving survival chances.
Clearing up that doubt, Xiaoqing got to the main point.
“Here’s what I’ve got: this dungeon caused a total party wipe on first run, and it’s already been upgraded from E-rank to D-rank.”
A dungeon is promoted from F to E if it kills everyone on the first try. But to go from E to D? It has to wipe out everyone before the halfway point.
In short: it’s brutal.
Unlike F-rank newbies, E-rank players aren’t completely clueless. They’re still considered green, but they usually last at least a little while.
So a group-wide death so early on meant this dungeon was not only hard—it was something entirely new.
And most crucially: those six players who survived the experience probably knew very little about the dungeon itself.
“We’ll start by contacting those players,” the supervisor sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Let’s hope someone’s willing to sell us their info. Also, notify the Strategy Department—it’s time for them to move.”
In the lower district, the White Knight Guild ruled unchallenged.
[Jenny Textile Machine] had just escaped the dungeon, face pale. Her first instinct was to check the forums for any information on Supermarket No. 13. Nothing.
Which meant—she could be the first to trade intel for points.
In this game, timing was everything. Everyone knew the value of early reporting. The sooner you delivered useful information, the more points you earned.
Aware of this, Jenny gritted her teeth and bought a 5-point item from the player shop: a Temporary Emotion Suppressant.
That traumatic moment when her body turned into a pool of blood… it haunted her. Without the potion, she didn’t think she could stay calm enough to describe it.
Worth noting: there was another item that could completely remove the emotional weight from a memory—but it cost 100 points just to erase a small section.
Way out of her current budget.
Using the teleport array at the main city gate, she arrived at the White Knight Guild headquarters.
Taking a deep breath, Jenny reminded herself: even if her intel wasn’t detailed, she was still one of the few survivors. That had to count for something.
Based on what she knew, each player in the dungeon had their own set of unique rules. But because they’d been wiped out before noon, no one had time to share or compare.
Still, even partial info was better than nothing. Dying as an E-rank cost her 100 points. She needed to make some of that back.
The Strategy Department’s intel unit had already been notified. As soon as Jenny explained her purpose, they led her to a meeting room.
“Supermarket No. 13 starts by letting us choose job roles…” Still shaken but doing her best, Jenny objectively recounted everything she could remember.
After she finished, the two analysts present exchanged frowns. It was clear: her intel was sorely lacking.
She only knew the rules for her own area. Even if she understood those decently, she was completely blind to what happened elsewhere.
“You mean you guys had no chance to communicate at all?” Xiao Li, one of the analysts, asked, almost in disbelief.
Usually, unless a dungeon required full immersion, players could talk to each other somehow.
Jenny gave a sheepish smile.
“There was supposed to be a lunch break… that might’ve been the time to share.”
“But what about the warehouse manager or the security guard? Didn’t they have the freedom to move between areas?” Xiao Wang asked sharply.
Jenny froze. She hadn’t even thought about that. Truth be told, she barely saw either of them.
Her own area had been a handful already—she hadn’t had the bandwidth to pay attention to anything else.
“The guard wasn’t allowed to roam, I think. As for the warehouse guy, maybe—but he only showed up once every two hours.”
She paused, then added, “And honestly, I didn’t even fully understand my own area’s rules until the dungeon ended. I really had no energy to worry about the others.”
Fair enough. Dungeons that dropped you in blind were tough even for veterans.
Without any starting intel, you were basically stumbling in the dark.
“Well, thank you for what you could offer,” Xiao Li nodded.
“We’ll credit your account shortly. Also, could you give us the names of the other players from your run? We’d like to reach out.”
If everyone had different rules, then collecting perspectives from all six survivors was absolutely necessary.
Back in her room, Su Shisan finally stirred from her coma-like nap.
It was already 9 PM.
She scarfed down some dinner, then turned to the system—whose eyes were practically glowing in anticipation—and gave the order it had been waiting for all day:
“Show me the results.”
A soft chime, and a blue light screen blinked into existence.
Dungeon: Supermarket No. 13
Players: 6
Player deaths: 6
Death rate: 100%
Achievement badge: [Mass Wipeout – 2] (Equippable)
Reward Points: 2400
Reward Items: Spatial Oil Painting, D-Rank NPC Recruitment Ticket (click to view)
Dungeon Level: E → D
Builder Level: E → D
The points were double what she got last time, but that wasn’t what caught her eye.
What really mattered were the new badge, the item rewards, and—finally—her builder level-up.
“Can I wear the badge multiple times?” Su Shisan asked while tapping to view the badge details.
Of course.
[Mass Wipeout – 2]
Achievement: Achieve a full-party wipeout [2] times upon a dungeon’s first activation.
Effect: Increases speed and strength by 20% when equipped.
Su Shisan raised her eyebrows. Strength was exactly what she lacked.
A 20% boost might not sound like much, but it was equivalent to a month or two of serious training.
Major time-saver.
She glanced at the formatting of the number.
“Why is there a special symbol around that number?” she asked, though she already suspected the answer.
Sure enough, the system confirmed: “That symbol means the value can increase. If your next dungeon also ends in a wipeout, the ‘2’ becomes a ‘3’ and the 20% becomes 30%.”
So the boost scaled exponentially with each consecutive wipeout. Suddenly, this badge looked very appealing.
“What if I break the streak?” she asked.
“Does the badge disappear?”
“No,” the system replied smoothly.
“You’ll keep the highest badge you’ve earned. But to increase the level, the counter resets.”
Fair enough. Even if she failed later, she’d still have the level 2 badge—and another shot at upgrading it.
Next, she examined the two reward items—both looked promising.
[Spatial Oil Painting]: A customizable painting that contains a 50-square-meter interior space. Does not count toward dungeon area limits. One-time use.
[D-Rank NPC Recruitment Ticket]: Choose one keyword to summon a permanent D-rank NPC.
Both were surprisingly valuable.
The oil painting was like gifting a small apartment to your dungeon. Even as a one-time item, used well, it could easily be worth another wipeout.
And the NPC ticket?
D-rank may be the lowest tier, but still cost 10,000 points in the shop. Even with her current rate of earning, it would take a while to save up that much.
This item was essentially a free 10,000-point reward.
Then something clicked.
“Wait… does this mean I’ve unlocked the native NPC system?” she asked.
Sparta had mentioned it once: starting at D-rank, native ghosts could automatically spawn in dungeons. And for a setting like hers, Supermarket No. 13, NPCs were more than welcome.
The system’s virtual eyes blinked as it nodded.
“Correct. The dungeon will now recruit ghosts as native NPCs based on your custom worldbuilding. You may preview them and modify or delete if dissatisfied.”
Su Shisan’s interest was piqued.
“Let’s have a look.”
With practiced ease, she pulled up her newly promoted D-rank dungeon on the big screen.
Right at the top was the title: Supermarket No. 13, followed by a cover photo of the main store hall…