A cascade of mineral water bottles materialized before Cheng Shuli, aligned with military precision. Rows sprawled across the carriage floor, perched on the window ledge, and—impossibly—balanced along the sofa's backrest.
Not one toppled.
Cheng Shuli: "…"
Well, damn.
She was set for water for months.
A pop-up blinked into existence before every player.
[Players Gentleman Sword, Tuoba, Gratitude Seeker… and 54 others!]
[These players betrayed humanity, siding with the system in their reports! Treacherous snakes! Blacklist them with one click?]
The regional chat ignited.
[Gentleman Sword]: I reported, yeah, but why broadcast it before the review's done?
[Nutcase]: I'm done—hahaha, rolling on the floor!
[Psycho]: This hyped? Go huff some village dung.
[Mongolian]: Wait, what's happening?
[Silent Tycoon]: Was gonna stay quiet, but this is wild. Here's the deal: the system's playing dirty. It baits jealousy and gambling urges. Calls it a "report" button, but it's a donation drive!
[Little Tiger]: Ohhh, got it. There's no real "report" function? You hit the button, and it just gifts five water bottles to the target?
[Star Fusion]: Sneaky as hell—respect!
[Green Mountain Wanderer]: It's not just a donation. It's a purge.
His cryptic words sparked a follow-up from an eager player.
[Warm Heart]: The system sent everyone a blacklist prompt. In this survival world, you barter or you die. This is the system rallying us to freeze these traitors out.
[Justice Man]: They had it coming.
[Tofu Sweetie]: Isn't that a bit extreme?
[Justice Man]: You good? These snakes would shank you in a heartbeat, and you're defending them?
[Ke Nan]: Mystery solved! Tofu Sweetie's on the list—buried at the bottom. Took ages to find! Blacklisting now!
[Like Hero]: Username checks out! Big like!
[Gentleman Sword]: @Crow Takes Flight, you paid off the system, didn't you? This is nonsense! A report button turning into a donation?
[Tuoba]: Yeah! We clicked report, so why's the system flipping it to water gifts? This reeks of foul play!
[Nutcase]: (Screenshots Gentleman Sword's old post) Whining now? The system's already labeled you backstabbing scum. Hilarious.
[Gentleman Sword]: We were defending game fairness! The damn system skips data checks and slanders us instead?
Cheng Shuli eyed the chat's chaos, a icy smirk curling her lips. Her fingers danced across the interface, each word a honed blade:
[Crow Takes Flight]: @Gentleman Sword, @Tuoba, you two lost? This isn't your whale-friendly gacha game where a $648 top-up buys you a throne.
[Crow Takes Flight]: Here, the system's the law, and its rules are unbreakable. Who the hell are you to challenge its verdict? To challenge me?
[Crow Takes Flight]: Broke and bitter, so you think the world owes you a handout?
[Crow Takes Flight]: Oh, and now you're blacklisted by the entire sub-district. No one'll trade with you. Begging won't even get you a crumb. How's that feel?
[Crow Takes Flight]: Time to drop the ultimate truth bomb.
[Crow Takes Flight]: Suck at the game? Grind. Can't take the L? Quit.
With her final zinger sent, Cheng Shuli tapped the blacklist button. The chat transformed into a peaceful haven.
[Nutcase]: Yo, that line? It's burned into my soul!
[Psycho]: Carve it on my skin.
[Nutcase]: Oh, baby, you're ice-cold.
[Justice Man]: Take the flirting to DMs, or you're getting the [Gentleman Sword] blacklist deluxe.
[Yun Che]: Justice Man's got my vote!
A tidal wave of "Support Justice Man" flooded the chat.
Cheng Shuli grinned, torn between diving into her leaderboard rewards and keeping her foot on the gas.
After a brief internal tug-of-war, she gunned the engine. She'd check the loot tonight.
Today marked the first day post-novice protection. She needed to dissect what had shifted.
The highway was a ghost of its former self, its asphalt swallowed by a boundless snowy void. Flakes drifted down, the world hushed save for the wind's howl, the soft patter of snow, and the rhythmic crunch of tires.
Resource crates, dusted white, stood just tall enough to spot. Cheng Shuli parked tight against one—her vehicle's heater warmed a three-meter bubble outside.
Toggling polar gear on and off was a pain.
As always, she moved with caution: baseball bat in one hand, dagger in the other. The bat pried the crate; the dagger slashed wildly.
So far, she'd only stabbed thin air.
Today's haul matched yesterday's volume, but the contents? Bizarrely diverse.
Or just plain weird.
Two wooden crates yielded: a live bird that flapped away after she stabbed the air twice, a pack of spicy strips, a pristine pack of compressed biscuits, and a crate of busted mineral water bottles…
Cheng Shuli was speechless. Not the time for griping, though.
She stood by the crate, mulling over the junk, when a vehicle's roar rumbled behind her.
Her ears twitched. The bat shifted slightly in her grip, but she didn't turn.
Casually, she bent down, lifted an empty water bottle, and set it back, moving like she was tidying her backyard.
Junk in a crate? Seriously?
She gave the crate of bottles a petulant kick, plastic clattering.
The engine's growl grew louder, tires crunching through snow.
Cheng Shuli turned at last, lazily slinging the bat over her shoulder.
Through the swirling blizzard, she spotted a modified off-road vehicle rolling closer, its rooftop spotlight carving a harsh beam through the snow.
The driver had clocked her from a distance—a figure in shorts and a T-shirt beside a Frankenstein's monster of a vehicle, standing defiant in the frozen wastes.
The pairing screamed trouble.
Either god-tier strong or certifiably insane.
The off-road vehicle's door swung open. A tall woman in a fur-collared leather coat stepped out.
Su Rui raised both hands high, signaling peace. "Relax, just passing by."