Famine 178: The Business

“Mixed-use residential and commercial?” The female agent was clearly experienced—she didn’t even look back, just gestured out the window, speaking flatly: “This is a residential building, business activities aren’t permitted, can’t get a license.”

Si Zhiyan followed the direction of her finger and was dazzled by a sea of glaring signs.

[Daily Household Goods]
[Civil Service/Tutor/Bar Exam/CPA]
[Legal Consultation XXXXXX]
[Brother Li Can Get It Done for You]
[Murder Mystery / Werewolf Party Board Games Mahjong]
[Children’s English & Math Tutoring, High Score Improvement XXXXX]

Every street-facing window was crammed—some with massive red lettering pasted on the glass, others with illuminated signs, and some even had cardboard boxes scrawled with red paint and simply wired outside, the vivid digits screaming: [License/Certificate XXXXXX]

Si Zhiyan: “…”
This was nothing short of a high-efficiency CBD multiplex.

With admiration, he smiled knowingly. “Understood.”

“No ground floor shopfronts left, closest is the second floor on the street side, two rooms.” The agent, not missing a beat, answered another call while fishing out a key ring. “Eight thousand yuan a month, one month’s deposit plus two months’ rent up front, half-year lease. Is that a problem?”

Eight thousand per month… Si Zhiyan looked over at Bian Xu.

“Sister, is that in RMB?” Bian Xu asked.

The agent glanced at him with a put-on look of “are you insane,” but as her eyes caught his mop of golden hair, she broke into a grin. “What, you want to pay in dollars?”

“…” Bian Xu laughed awkwardly.

Clearly, he had assets—well over a million.

…A million in points from the main god.

After seven years in the Famine Game, where would he get real paper money?

But Bian Xu recovered quickly, keeping up the polite act: “Sorry, sister, I just graduated from university, I can’t gather that much money so soon… Do you think you could hold it for two days?”

“If you don’t have the money, why’re you asking about apartments?” The agent’s brows drew together, severity flashing behind her glasses as her gaze dropped to Bian Xu’s face.

Bian Xu clutched at his sleeve in distress, pleading: “Please, I don’t even have a place to stay, I just need somewhere to keep out the wind and rain… Could I maybe stay in the hallway for a bit?”

Suddenly, the agent hesitated.

He was so handsome—clean, bright, a little naïve, a bit embarrassed, as if he truly believed there were still kind people in the world…
…
If her own boy were still alive, he’d have been about to graduate college this year, too.

She stood uncertain for a long moment before, with a grumpy wave, she relented.

“…Fine, I’ll give you a few days. You can move in now, but only for five days—not a day more.”

“After five days, my manager will come for an inspection. You must pay the two months’ rent and deposit before then, do you understand?”

Bian Xu feigned delighted astonishment: “Thank you!”
“Don’t worry, I will. Absolutely.”

“Thank you, I owe you… Otherwise, I really wouldn’t know what to do…”

It was all just standard pleasantries, but something in his words softened the agent’s gaze.

“If you need anything, come to me. My surname’s Zhou, just call me Aunt Zhou. My number’s on the door.”

She tore off a keycard and a key from the ring and tossed them to Bian Xu: “Elevator card and the key to 3013. Off you go.”

“No sleeping in the hall. Curfew’s midnight. Remember: after midnight, never linger in the corridor!”

Drriiiiiing! Drriiiiiing!

The phones clamored again. Having spoken, she bent back to her other business.

Bian Xu hurried through a few more polite words and dragged Si Zhiyan out with him.

Just as they crossed the threshold, her voice called out: “Hey.”

Bian Xu turned back.

Aunt Zhou, still stern, said, “Tell your family to send money quick.”

Bian Xu was about to answer when Aunt Zhou hesitated, then added:
“…Out in the world, don’t always try to shoulder everything yourself. No matter what your folks say, they always want to help if they can.”

Bian Xu: “…”

In the brilliant sunlight, his gaze froze for a moment, then dipped as he smiled: “Right. Thank you, Aunt Zhou.”

Rounding a corner, Si Zhiyan reached up and ruffled Bian Xu’s tousled blonde hair.

“Don’t worry,” he smiled. “With me here, you won’t go hungry.”

Bian Xu blinked, and his smile grew bright again. “Mm.”

Ding.

The battered, old elevator doors—daubed in chipped green paint—slowly slid open.

Bian Xu followed Si Zhiyan in, explaining as the doors shut behind them.

Actually, this sort of scenario wasn’t uncommon. High-level Famine Game missions sometimes involved such domain-type anomalies—a whole area locked down, trapping any players who entered, like a self-contained world. Players usually called these [Urban Legend Story Instances]. Once inside, you couldn’t leave until you met the [exit conditions].

Instances like this were deadly; the exit conditions were notoriously harsh, and most wisely steered clear.

Looking at things now, it seemed [Eternal Night Gothic City] was made up of countless such segments.

In these high-level urban legend instances, instance rules were separate from the main god’s system.
If you violated those rules, or triggered a [death point], what awaited wasn’t negotiation—but a forced, dangerous escape.

Still, perhaps thanks to interference by the main god, instances wouldn’t necessarily trap you into a certain death. Like now—being forced to stay in an apartment without money must mean there’s a path forward. That was why Bian Xu pleaded for mercy.

It was a rule as old as the infinite genre itself.

But doing business here, with these anomalies, earning their money and [recognition]… that was easier said than done.

The first thing to solve was: what kind of business to run? Si Zhiyan pondered.

Lunchtime was near, and the corridor air grew thick with savory aromas.

Food was clearly not lacking in this instance.

The Frosthorn Rabbit, cramped for some time, felt uncomfortable—it poked its fuzzy head out of Si Zhiyan’s pocket, curiously peering around.
Turning his back so the cameras wouldn’t catch, Si Zhiyan pushed the rabbit’s head back down. “Shh. You’re contraband right now.”

The bunny squirmed and, resigned, settled in his pocket.

Ding.

The elevator reached the second floor and opened.

A rush of noise rolled out.

Following Bian Xu, Si Zhiyan stepped out. Before them, a group of people waiting for the elevator pressed in.

The second-floor corridor was especially lively, tiled with small white squares that extended in both directions. There should have been windows, but the halls were piled high with junk, blocking the blue-lit glass and making everything more stifling and hot.

At the end hung a warning sign:
[Power Restrictions During Summer Peak]
[Power Outage: 1:00 AM–5:00 AM]

Dozens of security doors lined up, and the second floor really did house more businesses—plenty of doors stood open, each with a sign posted.

[Young Eagles After-School Meals]
[Fat Brother’s Takeout]
[Big Bowl Noodle House]
[Egg Pancakes / Chongqing Noodles / Takoyaki / Fried Chicken]
……

Was this some sort of food hub? Si Zhiyan raised his eyebrows. So many people here.

In this enormous, dense CBD, countless people lived, many solving their meals close to home—certainly convenient.

It was lunchtime, so crowds pressed in for meals. The corridor was packed with people squeezing past each other, only making the stifling heat worse.
The in-instance season seemed to be summer; everyone wore short sleeves—mostly young people. Some had buzzcuts and glasses, others wore ponytails. Each shop had a few faux-wooden tables coated in grease, never quite clean.

Shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, in and out—everyone had to shout to get by.

“Let me through! Give me some space!”
“Extra sausage, egg, no scallions, noodles up!”
“That’s mine, that’s mine!”
“Slurp…”
“Listen, my idiot boss…”

The din was overwhelming.

With this population density, air conditioning barely mattered—everyone was drenched in sweat.
No one cared; everyone wiped themselves with tissues, scarfed their food, and hurried out.

At the far end of the corridor, a cluster of kids’ voices echoed faintly.
It seemed to be an after-school daycare.

It was a constant flow of people, with clutter everywhere adding to the crowd—looking down the hallway, it was a sea of sweaty heads.

Bian Xu commented on the channel, awed: So many heads here, but for once every one of them is properly attached to a body.

Si Zhiyan: …
Smart mouth.

It took all the effort they had, but at last, Si Zhiyan and Bian Xu reached the door to 3013.

Click.

The key turned in the lock, opening the security door.

Suddenly, the space broadened before them.

It was a small two-room flat, the floor tiled a fleshy pink, the painted walls already stained in many places.

Two rooms, no living room—the outer was a bare area for work, the inner a bedroom with an en suite bathroom, a double bed, an induction cooker, and a kettle.
Together, the two rooms totaled about fifty square meters. The standard here, apparently, was to work out front and live in the back.

In residential buildings, these were small and oddly shaped—Si Zhiyan tapped the wall to the next room and understood at once.

They were partitions.
The agent must have built them herself, splitting a single residence into two lets, increasing the rent.

Utility fees were at residential rates, cheap. Bian Xu turned on the air conditioner.
The old, yellowing unit chugged out a feeble stream of coolness.

The window was a sliding panel with metallic white trim and blue-glinting glass.
Push it open, and outside had become a bustling urban street.

Si Zhiyan asked, “In your experience, can we go anywhere else out there?”
Bian Xu shook his head. “The stage of this instance is the apartment; when I entered, the door shut.”
“The main god never leaves holes—you could try to sneak out a window, but it wouldn’t help. It all looks normal out there, but if you got close, who knows what you’d encounter.”

Si Zhiyan wasn’t surprised, and nodded.

There wasn’t even a table or chair; he sat on the bed, slipped off his coat, and hung it on the bedpost.

Bian Xu sobered, sitting down beside him. He spoke seriously:
“Sir, everything outside this room—all of it—isn’t real people.”

“They look human, but their nature is anomaly. In these urban legend tales, they’re stuck repeating echoes of their lives. Each has its own taboos and obsessions, not to be underestimated.”

“At the moment, we haven’t triggered an incident. All is still running as normal. But that’s not how this kind of instance stays—we’ll see a shift before tonight, I’d wager. We have to be cautious.”

“…And beyond that, the two rules set by the agent—don’t leave the room after midnight, and pay the rent and deposit in five days—are imperative.”

He paused, then laughed wryly: “Passing by, I saw the little noodle shop’s prices. Here, everything is like a first-tier city a decade ago—fifteen, twenty yuan for a bowl.”

“Food isn’t lacking here. If I tried to sell ordinary meals or sweets, they wouldn’t fetch a price. As for gourmet fare, everyone here’s a worker—spending power isn’t high… But with so many people, traffic isn’t a problem, which is a plus.”

Bian Xu scratched his head, concern in his voice:

“Sir, what can I even sell to earn 32,000 yuan in five days?”

The number made the situation feel almost pre-apocalypse again, and Bian Xu had to laugh at himself: “Every idea I come up with probably belongs in the criminal code.”

“Fighting hidden dangers while doing business…this place is hard mode, all right.”

Si Zhiyan laughed with him,
Leaning in the bright sunlight, he undid his collar button, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

It was clear he’d already thought of his business plan.

“Exactly. They don’t lack food,” Si Zhiyan said with a smile. “So, I’ll sell them the one thing they all lack.”

“Which is?” Bian Xu leaned closer.

Si Zhiyan grinned. “Space.”

Bian Xu blinked, then his eyes shone. He straightened up, about to speak, when a crash sounded outside.

Bang!!

Accompanied by the sharp crash of something heavy falling, a rough male voice roared: “How many times do I have to say it—don’t pile stuff in the hallway! Everyone else knows the rules—why are you so selfish?! Are you deaf or just stupid?!”

“Think the agent can’t deal with you so nobody can?”