Game: Day Twelve
By morning, everyone found out that it wasn't just one household that had been robbed the night before—it was three.
And all three were the ones who had donated supplies.
Those who were robbed poured their grief into the group chat.
They had lost everything—food, medicine, cash.
Now, all they could do was beg their neighbors for help.
But today's group chat was eerily silent.
Anyone with a brain could figure it out—
The people who broke in had to be from inside the compound.
They had clearly targeted the generous families, watching who had extra, and then struck under cover of night.
Now, who would dare give anything?
That would be like advertising yourself as the next lamb for slaughter.
The generosity and unity of yesterday evaporated.
Everyone began to guard themselves.
No matter how much the victims pleaded, cried, or begged in the group, no one responded.
Eventually, their grief turned to anger, then to accusations and insults.
A quiet, unseen shift rippled through the atmosphere of the compound.
The neighbors were no longer comrades—they were strangers again. Suspects.
Chu Yian, who had felt guilty the night before, now felt nothing but relief.
She reaffirmed her choice: take care of yourself first.
Make it through the thirty days.
Find the cure.
Don't worry about anyone else.
Elsewhere—
Among the four households who gave out supplies, only one had not been robbed.
And they were terrified.
It was a young couple—content creators, influencers.
They usually did food reviews, so when the lockdown hit, they had a ton of snacks stocked up.
The snacks weren't nutritious, but they kept you full.
Yesterday, feeling pity for the victims, they had sent out a few drinks.
They hadn't been hit yet, but that didn't mean they were safe tonight.
Now the couple were anxiously barricading their door with whatever they could find.
Night fell.
No electricity.
No moon.
No stars.
Just pitch-black darkness where evil brewed.
A sharp scream cut through the air.
Another home invasion.
The chaos spread—wider and louder than the night before.
Shouting.
Fighting.
Screaming.
Crying.
Begging.
In just two nights, law and order had collapsed.
Chu Yian couldn't sleep.
She sat up, staring out into the void beyond her window.
Only voices echoed in the air above the compound—no light, no visibility, only fear.
Suddenly, her phone lit up.
[Are you asleep? There's movement at the stairwell door.]
Chu Yian snapped upright.
What?!
She threw on a mask and coat, grabbing the baseball bat she'd drawn from the treasure box.
When she stepped outside, Lu Qingyuan was already waiting at her door.
They exchanged a glance, then headed quietly toward the stairwell.
Shhhk—
Clink, clink—
Metal against metal.
The screeching sound of friction echoed through the corridor.
A dim flashlight flickered by the stairwell.
A long fruit knife was sticking through the crack of the door—wiggling up and down, trying to pry it open.
Chu Yian turned to Lu Qingyuan, her eyes asking: What do we do?
The real problem was—they didn't know how many were outside.
If it was more than three, things could get ugly.
Without a word, Lu Qingyuan reached out and grabbed the blade with his bare hand—well, through gloves—and held it firm.
The person on the other side tried to pull it back—couldn't budge it.
"Who's there?"
His voice was icy calm.
There was a brief pause, then a shaky voice replied,
"Oh, we thought no one lived here. Just trying to… find some supplies.
Didn't know anyone was inside.
Our bad, bro."
Looking for supplies?
In the middle of the night, prying doors open?
Yeah right.
Chu Yian didn't need anyone to tell her—it was another robbery attempt.
Only after that did Lu Qingyuan let go of the knife.
"Leave."
They heard the rustle of gear being packed, then retreating footsteps.
Whoever it was must've been scared—once discovered, they ran fast.
After the intruders were gone, Chu Yian and Lu Qingyuan went around double-checking the exits.
They resecured one of the doors that had been loosened.
"Stay alert at night. Keep your phone close," Lu Qingyuan said as he turned to head back inside.
"Uh, my phone's dying."
Chu Yian held up the screen—battery icon glowing red.
Lu Qingyuan paused at the door. "Wait."
He went back inside and returned with a sleek black power bank.
"Use this."
Chu Yian took it without hesitation—then frowned.
"There's no cable?"
There wasn't even a USB port.
Lu Qingyuan leaned over, pressed a small icon on the power bank's surface.
As soon as Chu Yian's phone touched it, it started charging.
"Done. And remember what I said."
BANG.
He shut the door.
Back in her room, Chu Yian stared at her phone.
Within just a few minutes, it had gone from 6% to 50%.
In ten minutes—it was fully charged.
What kind of power bank is this?!
She turned on her flashlight and examined it.
No brand.
No logo.
After a second, she gave up.
Whatever. It works. That's all that matters.
Game: Day Thirteen
The group chat was even quieter now.
Those who still talked mostly discussed last night's events.
A rough count:
Seventeen households had been robbed.
From three the night before—now nearly six times more.
Rage.
Curses.
The group chat had become a space for the robbed to vent their hatred.
Everyone wished death upon the thieves.
For some reason, Chu Yian felt the situation was only getting more dangerous.
Thankfully, the treasure box's conjuring skill had reset.
Chu Yian rubbed her palms together.
She hoped her luck would hold—just once, she wanted to draw a real weapon.
She clasped her hands together, bowed toward the box.
"Please—give me something strong!"
Then she reached in.
Her fingers closed around something cold, cylindrical, and very heavy.
It took everything she had to pull it out.
A message popped up:
[Fangtian Huaji – Weapon of Lü Bu]
Note: Will be reclaimed after the game ends.
Item Voice: A legendary halberd, two meters long, weighs over 100 jin. Wield this, and none shall stand against you!
Stand against her?
Sure—if she could even lift the thing.
It took all her strength just to drag it out of the box.
What was she supposed to do with this—train for a weightlifting competition?!
She looked at the halberd and grumbled toward the box:
"You gave me Lü Bu's halberd—can't you be more imaginative? Why not give me Sun Wukong's staff? Or Nezha's rings?"
At least those were divine weapons.
Even if she couldn't use them, they'd look good.