The air in the hallway seemed to solidify. Nineteen novices huddled at the narrow staircase, their faces pale as paper. They had just watched the monster squeeze into Room 204, and now, that very door was slowly creaking open.
The refurbished engine purred with a lethal efficiency, a stark contrast to the grinding rattle from moments ago. It now sounded like a high-performance sports car fresh out of maintenance.
Bubba's massive frame stood like a mountain of meat in the center of the corridor, completely sealing off the only escape route.
"Ah! He's out!" A youth with dyed yellow hair screamed, spinning around to bolt for the stairs. "Run!"
However, Bubba did not pounce like a mad dog. He simply held the chainsaw horizontally across his chest and politely pointed a thumb behind him.
A woman in a fitted business suit stepped out into the dim light. She held a megaphone she had swiped from the front desk and tapped the microphone gently.
"Hello, hello. Testing. One, two, three."
Vera nodded in satisfaction and raised the device. Her cool, crisp voice echoed through the deathly silent hallway.
"Good afternoon, players. I am the Regional Manager for this instance. My name is Vera."
"I have some unfortunate news. This motel has been acquired by me. To maintain market order, the second-floor hallway is now a designated toll zone."
The players looked at each other, the scene so absurd that they momentarily forgot their terror.
"What kind of crazy talk is that?" A muscular man stepped forward, gripping an iron pipe he had torn from the kitchen plumbing. It was his only weapon. "You control that monster? You are a player too?"
Vera pushed up her glasses, her gaze sweeping over the data floating above the man's head.
[Target: Zhang Qiang. Occupation: Fitness Coach. Valuation: Stamina B, Intelligence E. Pain Point: Impulsive and blindly confident.]
"Whether I am a player is irrelevant," Vera said flatly. "What matters is that I have the supply, and you have the demand."
She gestured to Room 204 behind her, where warm yellow light spilled out, carrying the cheap but enticing aroma of instant coffee.
"That is the Safe Room. Inside, Mr. Bubba guarantees he will not attack you. The admission fee is five hundred points per person. Valid for twenty-four hours only."
"Bullshit!" Zhang Qiang roared, his facial muscles twisting in anger. "Don't listen to her! She is a scammer! There are so many of us. If we rush together, we can definitely kill that monster!"
Incitement is often effective. Under extreme fear, a few people were actually swayed. They tightened their grips on table lamps and stools, their eyes turning vicious.
Roaring, Zhang Qiang charged at Bubba, swinging the iron pipe.
"Bubba," Vera's voice went cold. She didn't even look up, busy writing data in her notebook. "Don't break it."
Her tone sounded like she was telling a child not to break an expensive vase.
Just as the iron pipe was about to strike the chainsaw man, Bubba moved. He did not use the sharp chainsaw, for the Boss had said this man was a customer. Instead, he simply lifted his heavy leather boot and kicked Zhang Qiang squarely in the lower abdomen.
The kick was not only powerful but surgically precise, utilizing the perfect posture Vera had just corrected for him.
Zhang Qiang curled up in agony like a cooked shrimp, flew backward, and smashed into the wall. He slid to the floor foaming at the mouth, the iron pipe clattering beside his feet.
"What I meant was," Vera closed her notebook and added coldly, "don't break the wallet."
She walked over to the groaning man and crouched down.
"Mr. Zhang, due to your violent assault on my staff, your admission fee has increased. It is now one thousand points. Basic medical services included."
Without waiting for a response, she grabbed his wrist and forcibly swiped the points from his interface.
The System notification chimed delightfully. One thousand points, instantly transferred.
Vera stood up, turned back to the trembling group of players, and flashed her standard professional smile.
"Alright, the demonstration is over. Now, let us conduct a civilized transaction."
She pointed to Bubba, who cooperatively raised the roaring chainsaw, droplets of blood flying from the spinning chain.
"You have two choices."
"Option A is to stay in the hallway and experience Mr. Bubba's Texas Chainsaw service for free."
"Option B is to pay five hundred points to enter Room 204, enjoying hot water, coffee, and twenty-four hours of absolute safety."
"By the way," Vera glanced at the non-existent watch on her wrist, "the Newbie Protection Period ends in five minutes. At that time, Bubba will automatically begin his mandatory overtime."
The crowd fell into a deathly silence, but it only lasted for three seconds. Even the dullest person could do the math. If you lose your life, you lose everything. If you lose points, you can earn them back.
"I will buy it!" The youth with yellow hair was the first to scramble forward, trembling as he held out his wrist. "I have five hundred points! Let me in!"
"A wise investment." Vera smiled, completed the transaction, and stepped aside. "Bubba, make way for this VIP customer."
The serial killer obediently stepped aside and even clumsily made a "Please" gesture with his blood-soaked hand.
Once the first one moved, the others followed. The dam of fear broke, replaced by a frenzy of panic buying.
"I am buying too!"
"Don't push! I have the funds!"
"Can I get a discount? I only have four hundred points..."
"You there," Vera pointed at the girl trying to haggle, her eyes ruthless. "Mortgage your newbie item, the Pepper Spray, to me. I value it at one hundred points."
In just ten minutes, Vera's account balance skyrocketed from zero to nine thousand five hundred points.
She sat on a chair by the door, watching the once-terrifying dungeon turn into a crowded but safe refugee camp. She spoke happily to the giant beside her.
"See, Bubba. This is the power of capital. Killing people is exhausting work. Harvesting the crop is the fastest path to wealth."
Bubba did not nod foolishly as he usually would.
He gripped the bottle of Red Bull tightly, his rough thumb unconsciously tracing the thin edge of the contract tucked inside his apron pocket.