novelraw Chapter 207: The robber is back, robbing Undead Street again!
Chapter 207: The robber is back, robbing Undead Street again!
In the Undead Bar, an instance is taking place.
Elegant folk tunes, soft shimmering lights.
Mechanical figures and puppet-like entities move around the bar, each carrying a glass of drink.At a glance, it seems to be a uniquely themed costume bar.
However, the chosen participants of the instance obviously don’t think so.
"Sir, what would you like to order?"
A wooden carved puppet approached the ten visibly tense participants and asked,
"We have top-notch engine oil, as well as lubricant and our newly launched maintenance oil. What would you like? I’d recommend this lubricant—it has a distinct taste and can add shine."
As the wooden entity spoke, it took a glass of pale-yellow liquid from its tray, took a delighted sip, and then poured the rest over itself. The originally dull wooden skin instantly looked rejuvenated.
However, the expressions of several participants turned sour.
Engine oil, lubricant, maintenance oil...
Are these even fit for human consumption?
Instances on Undead Street sometimes yield valuable rewards that can’t be found elsewhere.
Like walkie-talkies and other tech items, or even ghost-grade firearms. Especially items like the human-skin mask chainsaw that Alexander had obtained before; Ghostly Street was the major supplier, making other chonse ones green with envy.
But often, great opportunities come with great risks.
On Undead Street, even though there are regular ghosts, many instances are specially designed for these spirits.
Engine oil and lubricants were already quite ordinary. If you’re unlucky enough to randomly enter a undead restaurant instance and are served a plate full of nails and screws, you’d have to swallow them! Otherwise, you would face the wrath of the instance’s master.
"I’ll have a glass of engine oil!"
"I’ll take the lubricant!"
...
Despite their reluctance, the participants obediently ordered their respective ’drinks’.
Not only did they have to consume these, but they were also pricey, with each glass costing a hundred ghost coins.
At some point, certain instances started this payment trend. And this model quickly spread through horror instances.
Before, Chosen ones needed wit and bravery to enter instances. Now, they also needed money.
Many participants silently cursed the ghost master who initiated this idea, but when it was time to pay, they had to begrudgingly do so.
The puppet ghost, with a smile on its face, handed the ’drinks’ to the chosen ones. When its gaze landed on the last person, it paused slightly, then cheerfully asked,
"Sir, would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you." The final chosen one casually declined, and the puppet ghost immediately bowed and retreated.
"Why do you get such special treatment? Did you participate in the
Fierce Ghost Street Battle instance?" For a moment, all eyes turned to the last participant.
"That’s right. I’m Cain." Cain lounged back lazily on his sofa, speaking calmly.
Now, he had a different status.
The chosen ones who emerged from the Ghostly Street Battle found that their biggest gain was not the rewards from the instance, but the identity of the Fierce Ghost Association.
Retaining this identity while entering an instance meant that almost all the ghosts they encountered would be respectful.In short, the safety factor shot up rapidly.
Therefore, Cain, confident in his new status, didn’t bother with the meaningless words of "Listen to me everyone." After all, he’s now a member of the Fierce Ghost Association, and he has an image to maintain.
"So you’re Mr. Cain. I didn’t expect to see you in person."
"I’ve heard that anyone who participated in the Fierce Ghost Street Battle feels like they’re on a vacation when entering a lower-ranked instance. I thought it was an exaggeration, but it seems to be true!"
"Awesome! So impressive that even a wicked ghost treats you with such courtesy, that’s truly remarkable!"
...
The other chosen ones all looked on with clear envy.
Unfortunately, this was what Cain had risked his life for when signing up. Initially, there were one hundred thousand slots, and if they had had even the slightest courage back then, grabbing a slot wouldn’t have been hard.
Now, all that remained for the nine other chosen ones was admiration and envy.
"Gentlemen, do you not like the drinks in our bar?"At that moment, a menacing voice from the wooden ghost sounded from behind.
The chosen ones instinctively turned around to see the wooden ghost wearing a wicked smile. In his hand was a woodworking plane, blood dripping from it.
"If you don’t like our drinks, I can offer another service, how about a relaxing ’gua sha’ therapy?"
Using a woodworking plane for ’gua sha’? That’s not therapy, that’s flaying!
The group looked desperately towards Cain.
"What are you waiting for? Drink up!" Cain urged, showing no intention of intervening.
He wasn’t foolish. The kind treatment he received was out of respect for the Fierce ghost Association, because he was a member.
If he believed he could intervene in this instance, he would likely be taught a harsh lesson. In the dark hell, even the Ferocious Level are miniscule.
Drink or be flayed!
If you don’t drink, it’s likely someone else will drink your portion!
The chosen ones exchanged resigned glances. One of them took a deep breath and downed the ’drink’ in front of him.
But even as one of the chosen, the pungent smell and indescribable taste made him nauseous.
"It seems this gentleman does not appreciate our drinks! Take him to the kitchen for some treatment," the emotionless wooden ghost ordered.
Two silicone-bodied puppet ghosts rushed forward and grabbed the chosen one.
"Cain, big brother! Help me!" The chosen one’s face turned pale as he pleaded with Cain.
If it’s therapy, why the kitchen? Is that even therapy?
"Mr. Cain, are you interfering with our bar’s business? Breaking the rules will have consequences," the wooden ghost’s eyes moved, staring emotionlessly at Cain.
"Of course not!" Cain quickly shook his head.
The two puppet ghosts dragged the screaming chosen one away.
The remaining chosen ones were filled with fear. Cain sighed, "Unfortunately, in this situation, only that legendary figure can save him."
"Who is this legendary person?" One of the chosen ones asked out of curiosity.
"It’s none other than the honorary president of the Fierce ghost Association , chosen one number 44011!" Cain said, his eyes filled with admiration.
"Is number 44011 really that impressive?"
A chosen one skeptically remarked, "I heard he befriended the president of the Fierce Ghost Association. That’s why he ranked first in that major instance.
But this is Undead Street; the association can’t interfere here! You’re exaggerating. Even you, a member of the association, weren’t given any special treatment!"
"He’s not just relying on the association’s influence. If he doesn’t come, the wicked ghosts of this instance should consider themselves lucky," Cain recalled scenes from the Undead Internet Cafe, smiling and shaking his head.
"That’s a bit much," some of the chosen ones said, skeptical. "No matter how strong he is, he can’t rob the instance, right?"
"Trouble, big trouble! 44011 is here!"
Suddenly, a figure rushed from the back, shouting urgently, "It’s bad! The robber is back, robbing Undead Street again!"