Please don't question multi-week players

Chapter 467. Andorra and Baili Song

When Jiang Jianxin and his siblings, Edric and his sister, reunited.

Andor sat on the steps of an arcade in the southern part of the city and angrily slammed his fist on the steps.

As a result, he hurt his hand from hitting it, and had to raise it to rub it, angrily cursing:

"Edric, you bastard, you just left me here all alone!"

An hour ago, the person said, "Go buy two cups of coconut water," and then never came back.

Andorra circled the crowded streets three times, only to find a heavy suede money bag on the seat he had been sitting in.

What came out were a dozen or so gold coins, shimmering warmly under the colorful lights of the Haidu Night Market.

"Leave me a money pouch too..."

He picked up a gold coin, then let it clink back into his bag.
"Does the young master of the Owen family lack such a small amount of money?"

—What's missing is that half of the laughter that's suddenly gone in the humid air.

He sighed helplessly and twirled his white floral hat with gold trim.

This was a new outfit he specially put on before setting off, and now the brim of his hat is covered with the salty taste of sea fog.

In the end, Andorra turned his hat back, leaned back, and let the coolness of the steps rub against his back.

In the evening, the arcade was packed with people, and waves of sound emanated from it, mixed with the sweetness of coconut candy and the smoky aroma of grilled squid.

The colorful clothes of the pedestrians flashed before his eyes.

Fluorescent pink wide-leg pants, peacock blue shirt, orange-red striped tank top... it's like a spilled color palette.

Andor squinted, finding it strangely pleasing to the eye—he hadn't seen a place with such refined taste in a long time.

Until a girl holding a star magic wand and wearing rainbow overalls hopped past me, humming a song.

Andor felt he couldn't continue to be so dejected, so he got up and stepped forward, his top hat making a light arc across his chest.

Good evening, madam.

The sea breeze ruffled the stray hairs on his forehead, but his voice still maintained its usual elegance:
"Excuse me for a moment—may I ask where this is?"

The girl stopped in her tracks.

The plastic star at the tip of her magic wand was flashing a cheap purple light.

The girl's gaze swept from the gold-embroidered brim of his hat to the dusty tips of his leather shoes, and she pouted.
"You're so weird... are you from out of town?"

Andor nodded sheepishly, but the girl didn't say anything.
"This is the southern part of Haidu, the lair of con artists."

She took a half step closer and whispered:

"Be careful, hold onto your wallet tightly, and don't believe everything you hear."

Without waiting for his response, she turned and merged into the crowd like a fish swimming into a river of colorful lights, leaving only the halo of her magic wand swaying in the distance, gradually blurring into a faint star in the sea mist.

Andorr had no doubt about what the girl said.

Along the way, he found a lot of small advertisements on utility poles and walls, all with exaggerated scams, some of which still smelled of ink and were obviously freshly pasted.

I wonder who they can actually fool in a place full of these same people.

Arriving in the hometown of con artists for the first time, Andorra viewed the place with a particularly novel perspective.

The people here display their talent in small advertisements on telephone poles, demonstrate their cultural refinement in promotional slogans, and showcase their exceptional physical abilities and sharp eyesight in pickpocketing. Along the way, Andorra already sensed many people eyeing his wallet.

However, he was dressed very flamboyantly and had an odd appearance, making him look like a con artist, so no one took any action.

Andorra arrived without incident at a small inn with a crooked sign and dim lighting, where he exchanged a few gold coins for the key to a spacious room on the top floor.

After putting down his luggage, the emptiness in his stomach urged him to walk to the small convenience store next to the hotel.

After the apocalypse, most of the so-called "convenience stores" are transformed from small, polluted spaces that have undergone harmless treatment, and are all produced and certified by Dream Pavilion.

These tamed spaces have been stripped of their dangerous rules, leaving only stably arranged shelves and clearly priced goods, becoming safe havens for homeless people and residents to obtain daily supplies.

Andorra works for the Rose Group and naturally uses mobile communication devices, and has read many life guides on a local app called "Peace Forum".

He recalled a popular science post that described in detail the process of shopping in such a modified convenience store:
Pick up your order, check the price tag, and pay at the counter using your local currency or equivalent goods.

"Wow..."

Pushing open the jingling glass door, a rush of cold air mixed with the smell of instant food seasoning packets hits you.

As evening approached, the store was nearly empty, with only the cashier behind the counter, her head bowed, her fingers clicking rapidly on an old calculator.

Andorra picked up a plastic shopping basket and headed towards the food section further inside.

There was another figure among the shelves.

She was a girl wearing dark purple velvet pajamas, with short hair that had natural curls and looked a little frizzy.

She was standing on tiptoe, trying to reach a seafood-flavored instant noodle on the top shelf. Her fingers swished in the air twice, but she grasped at nothing in vain. Her body swayed slightly as a result, showing a kind of exhaustion from forcing herself to stay upright.

Andor approached discreetly, casually pushing the row of bubble wrap on the upper floor outwards so she could reach it.

His gaze swept over the shopping basket in the girl's hand—it was already piled with seven or eight buckets of instant noodles of different flavors, like an unhealthy fortress.

Then, he looked at her face—

The girl's skin was a bloodless pale, with a dark bluish-black tinge under her eyelids, and her lips even had a faint cyanosis.

He'd seen this kind of person many times in casinos.

Gamblers who have been fighting for several days and nights will gradually lose their color in their faces. When the paleness spreads to the point that their lips turn purple, it is often a warning sign that their body is on the verge of collapse and that they are about to die suddenly.

The girl in front of me didn't have the typical gambler's excitement or decadence, but the signs of long-term severe sleep deprivation were obvious at a glance.

"Miss."

Andor hesitated for a moment, then spoke:

"You look unwell and may need to... get some rest."

Upon hearing this, the girl in the purple pajamas slowly turned her head and coldly glanced at him with her lifeless eyes.

There was no gratitude or anger in his eyes, only a deep, weary look.

She didn't say anything, she just yawned lazily.

Then, she hugged her basket of instant noodles tightly, turned around, and, shuffling in her somewhat worn plush slippers, slowly walked towards the cashier.

He left behind a long, thin silhouette stretched out by the fluorescent lights, as if it might melt into the halo of light at any moment.

(End of this chapter)