Chapter Twenty-Six: Hao Ren, the "Gambler"

“Where is this?” Hao Ren had been led by the shallow sister Shina to what looked like a warehouse.

“Here you go~” Shina handed him a set of SSS Squad uniforms. “The clothing store is under my management, and the leader asked me to prepare this for you.”

“Much appreciated!” Hao Ren, who was worried about not having a change of clothes, accepted the uniform with joy. “Allow me to go back and wash it first.”

“Wait a moment.” Hao Ren froze in place.

“There’s a faint smell of blood on you, and some subtle killing intent, but your physical strength doesn’t match that at all. Hmm, let’s do this: meet me here at eight tonight.” With those words, Shina’s figure disappeared. Was it possible that all ninja-types were masters of instant movement?

Hao Ren was utterly confused. Blood smell? What’s that? I showered before entering the game! If you’d said I had a bit of body odor, that’d make sense. And, how am I supposed to get back?

Hao Ren was mildly directionally challenged, able to remember only the paths he’d walked and could return by retracing them. Change the route, or switch between day and night, and he’d be lost.

Stumbling and asking around, he made his way toward his dormitory. Along the way, he picked up many coins and meal vouchers, most of which were for mapo tofu—about thirty in total. According to Hao Ren’s knowledge, in this world’s cafeteria, mapo tofu was a delicacy reserved only for heroes; these vouchers were likely left behind by NPCs who had given up on challenges.

Speaking of the Golden Rule, was it really okay for it to manifest in such a “loser” form? He couldn’t tell what others thought, but Hao Ren was certainly enjoying himself.

“Yamete!” As Hao Ren passed a narrow gap between two buildings, he heard a strange scream, accompanied by faint “slap-slap-slap” sounds, and most crucially, the “yamete” seemed to be shouted by a man.

…He looked around and found no one nearby.

How could I miss such a scandalous scene! (Righteous indignation mode)

Hao Ren stealthily peered around the corner into the gap.

A girl, her face hidden, was performing a “woman-on-top” move on an adult man. From her practiced movements, she was clearly a seasoned veteran.

Of course, Hao Ren was only guessing. What constructive insights could someone with zero practical experience and only theoretical knowledge offer?

Ahem, but that’s not the point. The point was that the man beneath the woman was visibly withering away, his body growing thinner at an astonishing rate, until he could no longer make a sound.

WTF! What the hell is going on?! Hao Ren stared in horror at the discordant scene.

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“Ah~” With the woman’s coquettish moan, the “battle” ended. Hao Ren’s eyes were sharp; the man’s member had become a limp worm, oozing red liquid.

Judging by the woman’s actions—no, this was definitely not a virgin. Unless she was daring enough to play with her period, the red liquid must have come from the man…

Oh my god! As the saying goes, one drop of O is worth ten drops of blood, but here he was losing blood by the bucket and hadn’t died yet! Truly impressive.

Wait a minute—this strange brown-black skin, that heavy foundation, wasn’t this the female player from last night? Could this be some kind of drain skill? Better to slip away quietly.

Hao Ren began to back away, but accidentally stepped on a soda can, making a crisp sound.

“Who’s there!”

“Damn!” Hao Ren reflexively turned his head, ready to run, but immediately stopped, picking up the crushed can.

“Stay calm, stay calm, she doesn’t know if I saw anything.” Actor mode activated!

“Hey, little guy over there!” The Shibuya-type flirt quickly emerged from the gap, spotting only Hao Ren and approached to ask.

“Me?” Hao Ren pointed innocently at himself, hastily hiding the can behind his back. “This empty can wasn’t mine—I just happened to step on it and was looking for a place to throw it away.” Perfect good-boy mode. (Incidentally, in this country, even spitting or littering on the street will get you a visit from the police.)

“Did you see anything just now?” The flirt pressed on.

“See what? Are you asking who threw the can?” Hao Ren continued to feign ignorance.

“Seems you didn’t see.” The flirt muttered quietly, “But you might be a good target.” She wiped her mouth.

Not good—feels like I’ve just escaped the wolf’s den only to fall into the tiger’s lair.

“If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going—I have things to do.” Sensing a threat to his chastity, Hao Ren made a decisive escape.

“Hey—wait!” As the flirt came to her senses, Hao Ren had already fled the scene at an unbelievable pace.

“Oh well, time to find the next prey.” She quickly recovered and began hunting for a new target.

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Back at the dormitory—or rather, having fled back—Hao Ren slipped into the single-person bathroom and started washing up.

Thanks to the attributes gained from the last game, his physique had improved greatly; he’d shed the flab, his body was now sharply defined, muscles stood out, and his abdomen boasted visible chocolate abs. Water from the showerhead streamed down his jet-black hair, glistening droplets accentuating skin pale from years indoors—likely to attract a swarm of eccentric aunties.

…

Wait! Why bother describing a man’s physique? No one wants to read that!

Ahem, by the way—Hao Ren was already no spring chicken, and his “junior” was fully grown, yet his body seemed to be undergoing a second puberty! He’d grown a bit taller, though not noticeably so. Hao Ren was delighted that his “little brother” had also matured, seemingly bigger than last time he handled it (so much for decency…).

“That female player is quite troublesome,” Hao Ren mused as he sat on the bed, freshly cleaned, pondering countermeasures. “Hope she doesn’t target me again, otherwise I’ll have to ask Sister Shi for help.” He no longer felt any aversion to killing.

“Should I try summoning a few people, see if my luck turns?” Hao Ren gazed at the spatial gemstone he’d just acquired, conflicted. “I’ve already summoned Diao Chan—even luck couldn’t get worse than that, right?” Still talking to himself, not a good habit.

“All right, I’ll defy fate.” Without further ado, Hao Ren wrapped only a towel around his waist and began summoning.

But it seemed Lady Luck’s skirt refused to lift for him this time—twenty-nine summons, all duds. He summoned salarymen, delinquent girls, and at one point, a woman in her fifties nearly assaulted him.

“Damn it! I refuse to accept this!” Hao Ren’s eyes reddened, clearly on tilt. Anyone who’s played gambling games knows the feeling—blood rushing to the head, all reason gone, ready to do anything.

At this point, Hao Ren decided to go all in, instantly using all his summon cards, his LP points dropping by eighteen.

This time, he struck gold—the magic circle lit up, not just one but four in succession, blue light flooding the room.

“Yes!” Hao Ren shouted excitedly, flailing his arms. But his movements were too vigorous, and his towel slipped off his waist.

“I hate H!” Before he even saw the summoned figures, Hao Ren was struck down by a heavy punch. Just before losing consciousness, he vaguely glimpsed a massive golden fist.

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