Infiltrated

The surroundings were a bit hazy, and the thick stench of rot mixed with the booming cries of vendors, assaulting Zhu Yan’s nose and eardrums.

Zhu Yan quickly pulled out his upgraded [Demon Cloak] and draped it over himself, tugging the hood down tight.

As his vision gradually cleared, he took in the scene around him.

This appeared to be some kind of large trading floor. On both sides of the corridor stood all sorts of grotesque creatures, hawking the goods in their hands or hanging from their waistbands.

“Human heads! Fresh human heads! Heads of Level 2 players!”

“[Thrilling Delight]—who wants it? High-concentration, premium formula! Transparent pricing, fair trade for all!”

Wait, where did a Level 2 player come from?

Zhu Yan quickly adjusted his hood, tucked the Tuxedo Cat—now a blur of mist—closer to his chest, and looked toward the direction of the shouting.

Before the shift in floors occurred, the Tuxedo Cat had already curled up in Zhu Yan’s arms, its black-and-white fur blending into a foggy gray haze.

“Oh, a distinguished one…” The small vendor selling heads spotted Zhu Yan in his [Demon Cloak] and his eyes lit up.

It was a dwarf corpse dressed in grass-green clothes, wearing a turtle-shell cap, with a short black mustache above its lips.

Excitedly, it bowed to Zhu Yan and held up a highly decayed human head in front of him.

“My lord, I brought this out from the last dungeon. Though the outside is rotten, the obsession within this brain runs deep. For a demon like you, it would be a true delicacy!”

Zhu Yan studied the thing. It kept bobbing as it bowed, fawningly showing off its empty hip pouch to Zhu Yan.

“My lord, please take pity on me. My saber—I don’t know how I lost it. Level Eight, it was. I need a sum of money to go find it.”

Oh?

A Level Eight saber?

Interesting.

Zhu Yan raised an eyebrow beneath the shadow of his hood.

So this [Carnival Paradise] even steals equipment from other creepy creatures as rewards for [Hunters]?

Cunning!

The dwarf corpse kept bowing and scraping. “Otherwise, why would I sell such a fine head so cheap?”

Zhu Yan said, “Alright. I’ll give you a hundred bone coins—keep your head. Just tell me where Cypress Avenue is.”

This was what he called “drawing a pie to stave off hunger,” a trick he’d learned from office worker wage-slaves online before [Carnival Paradise] arrived. Their bosses apparently used it all the time, and it never failed.

“Heh heh!”

The trick worked like a charm. The corpse was ecstatic, bowing all the way to the ground.

It quickly hung the rotten head back on its belt and led Zhu Yan through the noisy corridor.

“Please, follow me, my lord!”

…

Inside the [Lazy Craftsman’s Workshop].

The Dragonfly’s two silver legs were bent, and its six insect legs kept scrabbling to pick up jewels from the floor.

It was crying—

Big, crystalline tears rolled from its compound eyes and splashed into tiny water blossoms on the wax-polished dark wood floor.

“Boo-hoo! Steal your things, scheme your schemes—fine! But why do you have to bully a poor, innocent little dragonfly?”

“Do you think it’s easy to sort out devil’s mussel pearls from water-ghost pearls?”

The Dragonfly quickly tossed the last gem into its toolbox and slammed the lid shut with a click.

“Yeah, I’m dumb, I’m slow, I’m not smart!”

“It just hit me now that you asking about the menu was just a disguise to case the print shop!”

Thinking about that sly [Hunter]—who had it modify the cloak, left as if careless, and effortlessly weaseled out its entire workflow—the Dragonfly lifted one insect leg and slapped itself hard on the face.

“Ugh! Couldn’t be dumber!”

It packed up the box and paced back and forth in the cramped shop, muttering to itself.

“That guy asked about the workflow and swiped my menu, so the target must be the print shop.”

“Let me think… Mm, if that’s the case, he’ll have to use the menu delivery as a way in. My menu can still get there safe and sound.”

Having figured this out, the Dragonfly wiped its tears and stopped crying.

“Hell, that means I don’t have to make the trip myself after all!”

“Later, when the higher-ups question me, I’ll just say I was knocked out and injured, and that can stall my orders…”

The Dragonfly’s eyes grew brighter.

It rubbed its insect feet together happily, walked over to the elegant display window, stood behind the crafts, and gazed longingly at the dirty, chaotic corridor outside.

“Ah, I need to go out. I need to go watch the show… Right.”

“Calm seas never made a skilled sailor; a cramped workshop never made a master craftsman!”

“Uh, passphrase: No customers today!”

…

Zhu Yan stopped in front of a staircase.

The stairs were ordinary marble, but the door at the top was a grand, majestic bronze gate, making Zhu Yan feel like he had stumbled into an imperial palace by mistake.

The dwarf corpse bowed to him. “We’re here, my lord. Right this way. And the coins…”

Zhu Yan let out a laugh. “Let me tell you a story.”

“What?”

“About a dozen hours ago, I got my hands on a Level Eight saber.”

The dwarf corpse’s dim gray eyes seemed to brighten with a glimmer of hope.

“Level Eight saber? Mine?” it asked, almost eagerly. “My lord, are you saying you want to give it back?”

Zhu Yan drew out the Level Thirteen saber, activated [Deceit], and sliced off its head in one strike.

He drove the blade into the dwarf corpse’s chest, and the body—along with the head—quickly crumbled into dust.

“Not at all,” Zhu Yan said, stepping onto the stairs, lifting the door ring, and knocking on the bronze gate. “I was just saying I used your saber to cut off your head—”

He glanced down at the ashes with a hint of pity. “Isn’t that just textbook cool-guy hero stuff, typical of a power fantasy?”

“Who is it?” a woman’s voice called out.

It sounded young, with a crisp, rough edge.

“It’s too busy today, sorry. We’re closed for business.”

“I’m here to deliver the [Changed Menu],” Zhu Yan quickly explained. “I’m from the [Lazy Craftsman’s Workshop].”

Immediately, the bronze door cracked open.

A pair of pretty, lively brown eyes peered through the gap, sizing him up. The woman’s voice let out a quick laugh.

“Oh ho, you old Dragonfly, changing your tastes, huh? You used to only like dragonfly puppets—so when did you build a high-class demon?”

What?

Zhu Yan was surprised.

From what she said, this creepy creature seemed to mistake him for the workshop owner’s puppet.

Was this a passive activation of [Disguise]?

Or was the creature from the [Print Shop] just testing him?

Zhu Yan reacted quickly.

“Don’t just stand there. Do you have any idea how hard the [Changed Menu] is to make? I barely managed the right ratio of manifest gold ink and echo-ghost bone powder… By my paradise!”

On the other side of the door, the lively eyes blinked.

The creature chuckled cheerfully and finally opened the door wide.

“Oh, it really is you! With that getup, I almost didn’t recognize you. Thought someone was pretending…”