Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH100

Chapter 100 

Late at night, even the bustling East Capital of the sleepless city had lost its daytime noise.

Parsons was still awake, the person next to him was already asleep.

After laying everything out, that subtle sense of distance between them seemed to fade a little, so much so that with Parsons beside him, Jiang Jitang could sleep at ease.

Of course, Parsons wouldn’t do anything anyway.

There was no deep “before-sleep” talk—regarding the previous world, they only touched on it briefly, but the topic of their life in this world had officially begun.

After today, they could finally say calmly: “Once upon a time, we could never truly confide in each other, nor exchange secrets, because our stances were opposing.”

Luckily, that was once upon a time. The future was uncertain.

In this world, Parsons’ life was still extremely dull: a child without parental supervision, with only tutors and nannies who were replaced every year.

They were replaced annually to prevent them from getting too ambitious and trying to take control, and also to prevent Parsons from becoming too attached and losing judgment. But in truth, it wasn’t necessary—Parsons’ personality was far too withdrawn; no one could influence him.

Later, he was assassinated by people sent by his uncle. Then, by accident, he awakened the memories of his previous life. Naturally, he also became a member of the Cube World. The story starts from there.

Compared to him, Jiang Jitang’s life was much more colorful.

He had a mother who treated him like a treasure, and he grew up in an environment that revealed the truth of society from the bottom up.

The higher one’s position, the more fake people become—the ones you meet are all good, and the words you hear are all pleasant. Conversely, at the bottom, words and people are real.

Jiang Jitang loved observing human beings, and also loved mimicking and experimenting with different things. His curiosity was very strong.

He also talked about how there was a period when he learned to swear because he thought it was interesting. But since he often cursed people’s fathers, it sounded too aggressive. Since he was raised by his mother alone, his insults had a relatively high “father content.”

“Later I changed my habit. I started using ‘xi ba (Korean’s swearing).’” 

“Isn’t that still swearing?”

“In the language environment of C-Nation, it sounds a bit more civilized—I could pretend to be a good kid. Unfortunately, studies and life got too busy later, so I didn’t get many chances to use it and eventually forgot.”

In truth, during that time, he’d pondered many bizarre things, like if someone like him from the bottom class were crushed by the powerful, how he would seek revenge; or if someone with his attractive looks were to encounter a Red House case or Lolita Island, how he would counterattack.

It was as if a murderer was hiding inside his body, often feeling that many people wanted to harm him. Fortunately, those twisted thoughts were locked away by nine-year compulsory education and a solid legal system, never given a chance to surface.

Even when he had lost his memories, Jiang Jitang’s mental state was unusually stable.

Unusual, and yet stable.

They talked until late midnight. At eleven sharp, Jiang Jitang “powered off” instantly, falling asleep within a few breaths. But Parsons, a cultivation maniac, was normally busiest at this hour, so he stayed awake.

Parsons looked at the lump in the blanket beside him. The air-conditioning in the room was a bit low, but with the blanket, it was still fine.

The magic sword that had caused a ruckus all evening was now lying slanted on the sofa, snoring loudly. The Golden Eye was placed on the bedside table, motionless like an actual metal bracelet.

Near midnight, with no sleep in sight, their previous conversation kept replaying uncontrollably in his mind, preventing him from thinking about anything else.

Jiang Jitang said everything was borrowed, but while magical medium could be borrowed, magical talent could not be, nor could effort and intelligence. His genius and strength were indisputable.

Yet such a powerful, young life full of infinite potential would wilt sooner than the average person.

What did it feel like to watch one’s life enter a countdown?

To give one’s life and entire career, and before it is even completed, to fade away into smoke due to fate’s mockery—what kind of feeling was that?

Parsons felt a faint tremor in his heart—a gripping sense of panic, like something slipping through his fingers, left him uneasy. Again and again, he confirmed whether the breathing beside him still existed, whether this person would suddenly disappear from this world once more without leaving a trace.

“I must stay in C-Nation.” he told himself, repeating the idea over and over, without exploring why.

Though the answer was obvious: even if it were a bloody, painful wound on his body, even if it cost him dearly, if their positions were to clash again, he would still be abandoned—without a moment’s hesitation.

Rustle.

In his sleep, Jiang Jitang shifted toward the heat source, the two blankets sticking together. Parsons had already taken hold of the remote control—he intended to raise the temperature.

But instead, the blanket lifted slightly, allowing the breath belonging to the other person to quietly invade.

After a long silence, the remote was gently put back.

—

The next morning.

“East Capital incident is trending on the forums? Impressive.” Jiang Jitang only learned the Cube World forum was buzzing about it that morning while brushing his teeth, bored and scrolling.

Parsons had woken up early and gone to work out in the gym downstairs—he hadn’t returned yet. When Jiang Jitang woke up, the space beside him was empty. He sent a message asking someone to bring breakfast upstairs.

On the forum, fanned by certain people, the East Capital incident had become a hot topic.

The most trending post of the day was: “The God of Death does not rule over C-Nation.” Honestly, obvious, isn’t it? C-Nation is under Yama, the King of Hell.

The post was about the assault incident in the East Capital, but focused specifically on the “East Capital healer.”

This healer was too powerful—already beyond the scope of a normal healer.

Healers, with the aid of high-grade healing tools, were revered by all, but at the same time, they were restricted by those very tools. Before this incident, there had been no reusable large-scale healing tool.

And the healing effect this time was limb regeneration.

The post was overflowing with activity—as if all the players in the world were watching the situation. They wanted to know the parameters of that healing tool, and more importantly, who that person was.

Western-style thinking couldn’t comprehend the Eastern value of “the shot hits the bird that sticks out.” They naïvely assumed this was a hero suppressed by politicians and believed he should appear before the public, not stay as an unknown figure operating behind the scenes.

Fortunately, the one thing Jiang Jitang feared the most wasn’t mentioned—that being “returning from the dead.” Strictly speaking, it wasn’t actual resurrection, because the prerequisite is “not yet brain dead.”

But even so, if exposed, it could still bring some trouble.

Yesterday at the explosion site, even the players who could still stand were mentally disordered. Probably because of that, no one noticed a few of their teammates had already stopped breathing.

And even if they had noticed, later it could be explained as “shock.” Shock is not quite the same as death—although breathing stops, the heart is still functioning, just faintly.

Brain death, however, is complete death—one that even Jiang Jitang could not reverse.

There were all kinds of people in that post: clueless ones, instigators, and those setting traps.

Players from other countries were envious and resentful, while those with C-Nation IP were questioning why such a powerful healer was monopolized by the government, while grassroots players like themselves could only struggle on the verge of death.

A flood of C-Nation IPs complained—some genuinely miserable, some passive-aggressive. Hard to tell whether they truly meant it or were just influenced by those 1.6 billion packs of dog food.

Some users explained that anyone could access official healing resources if they joined the authorities.

Joining was simple: clean background, firm allegiance, no bad habits. Before, passing the civil service exam was exhausting; now it’s like lying down to get in.

It was understandable, really. The authorities were a large organization—there’s no reason healing resources should go to outsiders whose loyalties are unknown rather than internal members.

But at the moment, emotions were running high. Reason was understood—but ignored.

Also, Magic Cube gameplay over time had genuinely destabilized people’s mental states. And since this was a matter of life and death, keeping calm was difficult.

“Huh? Isn’t this the perfect timing to launch special-effect food?” he thought.

Jiang Jitang took out his black bracelet—the call connected directly to Director Tao at headquarters. That person already knew Jiang Jitang’s External Aid identity.

“Comrade Jiang,” Director Tao’s voice carried a kind and smiling tone. “Calling because of the East Capital incident? Don’t worry. The organization will handle it.”

He hadn’t even spoken yet, and the issue had already been preemptively addressed.

How reassuring. Serving such an organization—hard to feel dissatisfied, isn’t it?

“Leader, I’ve caused trouble for you,” Jiang Jitang replied politely. “Just saw the post on the Cube World forum today.”

“Oh, what trouble? Without you, that would have been the real trouble.”

Both sides were courteous and harmonious, so they moved to the main topic.

“Leader, I see the online discussion getting bigger. Whatever needs to be done, you can tell me directly—I trust the organization’s decision. Regarding my healing capabilities, I’m reporting them to you in advance so you’re mentally prepared.”

“Mm.” Director Tao listened carefully. He already had expectations—maybe one or two hundred people healed per day, seven hundred would definitely be a stretch. That alone would already be astonishing.

“If someone leaves the dungeon alive, heart stopped but not yet brain dead, and with over 60% corporal integrity—I can heal them.”

“…,” Director Tao was silent.

After more than ten seconds, a somewhat hoarse voice came through the bracelet: “Comrade Jiang, so far there have been no cases where a pseudo-deceased player could be healed.”

Pseudo-death means the person is not brain dead, but all other bodily functions have ceased, with life activities stopped.

In real life, that doesn’t help much—pseudo-death soon becomes actual death before treatment. But if the Cube World produced an “instant teleportation” trigger item, if such a player were to become pseudo-dead, they could be sent directly to Jiang Jitang.

The C-Nation authorities happened to possess a few such instant transtask items.

“Additionally, my healing now can cover up to one thousand people at once.”

“How many?” Director Tao held his breath.

“Theoretically, I can heal one thousand players at the same time—as long as they still have a breath left, their HP and status can be fully restored. Of course, healing that many at once would come with some overloaded aftereffects, but nothing fundamental.” Jiang Jitang said, nine truths and one lie.

“If the organization requires…”

“I think healing about a hundred people per day, over ten days in a month, would be reasonably manageable. Though it will be hard work for Comrade Jiang moving forward.”

Hearing this, Jiang Jitang finally smiled.

Not only did it prove they didn’t treat him as a tool—it showed the leader had foresight. Jiang Jitang could only exist as a luxury product. If they bet everything on him, that would be when the authorities fall.

“Leader, of those thousand slots, one-third goes to players from Jin City and surrounding official areas. As for the rest, I don’t care. However—I won’t treat minor injuries, nor criminals, nor official offspring unless they are frontline government players or soldiers. For foreign players, they must trade something tangible—either resources or allegiance.”

“Of course,” Director Tao agreed. Don’t be fooled by Jiang Jitang’s mild manner—he was internally proud, even somewhat aloof. Not seduced by wealth, not subdued by power, possessing the dignity of a gentleman.

“There’s also one more thing—I think making it public could help reassure regular players.”

“Go on.”

“I’ve mentioned before that I have a special building which I’ve recently upgraded. It mainly sells food—packaged goods, easy to carry, even into dungeons.”

Director Tao grasped the key point—food that can be brought into dungeons.

“The special-effect food from Jin City?”

“Yes.”

“It can upgrade too?”

“Yes, starting today, daily output is around 30,000 units, twenty varieties with representative effects…” Jiang Jitang briefly explained some of the effect foods.

Director Tao fell silent—everyone in his office fell silent.

They knew of these iteMrs. Jiang Xingzhou had reported them earlier. But since they were only circulated privately, moderate in effect and extremely limited in quantity, with slow growth potential, no one had paid special attention.

Nobody expected it to grow so fast.

“And the temple you sent earlier…”

“It can be upgraded too. Hold on, I’ll upgrade one now.”

Upgrade what? Right now? Director Tao was shocked, but he was already too late. A second later, he saw the miniature temple—now a famous scenic view in the compound—being covered in mist.

Through the mist, the outline of the temple surged upward by more than ten meters.

When the smoke cleared, the former rustic village temple had changed. The irregular grey stones were gone—replaced by perfectly squared black rock with a sharp apex—solemn and dignified.

Jiang Jitang couldn’t see the physical scene, only the virtual building.

[Ordinary Temple: A temple located in a bustling city, funded by the reserves of the lord and the citizens. Though not as grand as the Divine Temple, the one equipped with a bell tower is still the most striking structure in the village. Can accommodate 300 people at once.

Staying inside dispels evil forces on the body. Every 30 minutes adds one buff effect, lasting 8 hours, stackable up to 3 times. Upgrade cost: 100,000 points.]

Next upgrade costs 100,000 points? So expensive.

Jiang Jitang reported the upgraded temple effects to Director Tao, who took off his glasses and wiped them.

Jiang Jitang had given too much. The previously noted first-class merit was no longer sufficient, and his protection level also needed to be increased. With such a pure heart, how could they let it grow cold? But words were cheap—action was required.

“Is there anything Comrade Jiang needs from me?”

“I see many ordinary players protesting—though it’s unreasonable, their fear is understandable. So, I think we can open a portion of the special-effect food to the public.

“Also, I upgraded my food house—it now has two vendor spots. Each spot can host one vending machine. As the building level increases, more spots will open. Perhaps eventually one for each region.

“Of course, I don’t understand national policy. In your opinion, where would these first two vending machines be best placed?”

Director Tao glanced at the map. The capital gathered enormous resources, and now had the upgraded temple. The same with other super-tier cities.

But national policy had always promoted common prosperity—no place left behind. Player resources had to be distributed accordingly: the top would benefit, attracting foreign capital; while paired support would ensure the rest progressed evenly.

His gaze swept across the map and settled on two border locations—one in the south, one in the north.

“The Southern Frontier—and the Northern Nation,” he declared.

At the border, disputes were most likely to arise. Every year, many soldiers and police officers sacrificed there. Ever since the Cube World emerged, the casualties became players.

At the same time, the number of ordinary players there was high, while the resources they received were few.

“The living conditions of people at the border must surpass those of neighboring countries; their happiness index as well. This is an unspoken rule. And the same applies to the players at the border—their living conditions and happiness index must surpass those across the border.”

“Alright.”

Just as Jiang Jitang was about to proceed, Director Tao suddenly asked:

“Comrade Jiang, would you like to become the overall director of the Eastern District?”