Chapter Four: No Takeout from the Cosmic Buffet

Qiao Mai shouted, “Turn left!” His module heard *build*, and a brick wall rose in their path. Lin Luanma stared at the scoreboard. “The values are fake. Expensive dishes increase Fullness, but not clear progress.” Zhaoye stopped eating. The better a player trusted the interface, the faster they would burst. Everything changed as the room rotated except a bowl of plain congee in one corner, permanently labeled ONE POINT. In its reflection stood the faceless thief, wearing the Star-Mist Top Hat, one hand resting on Zhaoye’s silver-rimmed glasses. 【Come alone if you want to keep your eyes.】 “What do you see?” Qiao Mai asked. “The exit,” Zhaoye said, omitting that it was probably a trap.