He didn't care, but Chu Yian definitely did.
"Just drop me off at the nearest pharmacy, please," she said.
She had to make 2,000 yuan last for thirty days under extreme conditions. Every cent counted.
The cab fare was 20 yuan.
As soon as she entered the pharmacy, she headed straight for the mask section. It was a pandemic scenario—masks were a must.
Masks: 5 boxes, 200 masks total — 50 yuan
Antibiotics: 5 boxes each of Amoxicillin, Cephalosporin, and Penicillin — 325 yuan
Fever reducers: 20 boxes, heavy-duty to prevent seizures — 300 yuan
Medical hazmat suits: 10 sets — 320 yuan
Medical gloves: 50 pairs — 25 yuan
Amino acid powder for immunity boost — 278 yuan
The clerk saw how much she was buying and gave her a 20% discount and waived the small change.
Even so, Chu Yian had spent 1,000 yuan.
With the 20-yuan cab fare, she was down to 980.
The game had just started and she had already blown through half her funds.
She didn't even have a place to stay yet, let alone figure out food and water for the next thirty days.
Staring at the receipt, Chu Yian went numb.
Why does it feel like even without catching the virus, I still might not survive thirty days?
She lugged her bags over to a nearby public restroom.
Once she confirmed it was empty, she took out her treasure box.
The treasure box's "creation out of nothing" skill was usable once every three days.
Chu Yian rubbed her hands together and reached into the glowing container.
Her fingers closed around something cold and solid.
A baseball bat.
A translucent game screen popped up immediately:
[Ordinary Baseball Bat]
Note: Will be retrieved at the end of this round.
Item Description: Made of soft aluminum, priced at 120 yuan in stores. A must-have for softball training or self-defense.
Compared to the infinite-ammo pistol she pulled last round, this was clearly a downgrade.
Still, it would do for self-defense.
Chu Yian packed the medications and the bat into the treasure box. Even with careful arrangement, they took up two-thirds of the space.
She sat on the toilet lid and started thinking.
Top 3 priorities right now: Get money. Find a secure place to stay. Survive the next 30 days.
If she could solve the first problem, the others would follow.
But how to make money?
The standard way—get a job.
Pros: practical.
Cons: human contact = infection risk.
Then… there were unconventional ways.
Her gaze shifted to the small, heavy treasure box in her palm.
One hour later…
She spent another "fortune" on a cab ride across the city and stopped in front of a rare, still-open pawn shop.
Duang!
She slammed the golden treasure box onto the counter.
"How much can I get for this, boss?"
The box made a solid thud.
The gold and inlaid jewels gleamed. The shop owner examined it with a magnifying glass, enamored.
"Where'd you get this, young lady? Pawn or sell?"
"None of your business."
Chu Yian had pulled up one pant leg, smudged on some smoky makeup she'd snagged from a nearby cosmetics store, and was doing her best "rich bad girl" impression.
"I'm selling. Got loads of stuff like this at home."
The owner gave her a long look—she didn't look like someone from a rich family. More like someone who stole it.
Still, he weighed the box in his hands and gave a number:
"20,000 yuan."
The materials alone were worth ten times that.
Shady, for sure.
"Deal!"
Chu Yian agreed instantly.
The owner flinched—he felt like maybe he offered too much. But still, 20,000 was barely a fraction of what it could be worth. He didn't want to risk her changing her mind.
He quickly handed over the money, completed the contract, and sent her off.
Once she was long gone, he licked his lips and bit into the gold to test it.
Couldn't bite through it?
He frowned and grabbed tools to pry off the gemstones.
Also didn't work.
Wait—was he just scammed?!
He set the box down and turned to grab a testing device, but in that moment, the treasure box vanished.
Gone.
Just like that.
He crouched down and searched frantically.
But of course, it was already back in Chu Yian's hands.
The treasure box: cannot be lost, cannot be destroyed.
A con artist's dream come true.
Sorry, pawn shop boss, Chu Yian thought silently.
Desperate times call for morally gray measures.
Now that her wallet was full, Chu Yian even walked taller.
First, she found a local real estate agent and rented a one-bedroom apartment in a quiet, sparsely populated new building.
Three units on the floor—only hers was occupied.
Perfect.
After paying the 3,000 yuan rent, and watching the agent and landlord leave, she emptied her treasure box.
Even with the gear she'd already bought, she knew from past pandemics that this would not be enough.
She needed food, water, and daily necessities.
After a short break, she went to the nearest supermarket for supplies:
Water: 4 large cases of bottled water
Grains: rice, noodles
Snacks & fruit: for comfort
Meats, vegetables, spices: for actual cooking
Preserved food: compressed biscuits, instant noodles, ready-meals, canned food, chocolate bars, energy snacks, etc.
She also picked up toiletries—TP, laundry detergent, toothpaste, toothbrushes, etc.
It took three trips to carry everything home.
Total at the supermarket: 2,622 yuan.
Rent: 3,000 yuan.
Remaining balance: 15,358 yuan.
Chu Yian did the math in her head while carrying the last bag.
As she walked past a hardware store that offered door and lock replacements, she stopped.
Then turned back around.
"How much to change the locks?" she asked.
"And can you install an extra security door too?"