Chapter 21
The man outside the car window was dressed in casual home clothes, appearing gentle and harmless. Only the person being targeted could faintly sense something unfriendly beneath the surface.
In the Cube world, the strength of one’s gear directly matched the game’s difficulty. How could someone possessing such a powerful healing item be weak? This was what made sense.
The man stepped out from the back seat of the car and extended his hand, “Surname Zong. Zong Yao.”
“Jiang Jitang.” Jiang Jitang shook his hand briefly. “There’s an internet café over there. Want to talk?”
Zong Yao looked in that direction and saw a dark, dirty little internet café. He resisted. “Would you mind if I visited your home instead, Mr. Jiang?”
“I mind.”
“…”
Jiang Jitang smiled. “I don’t let outsiders into my house. It’ll mess up the feng shui. Not personal.”
“Mr. Jiang is truly humorous. It’s nearly midnight—would I have the honor of buying you a meal?”
They ended up in a newly opened tea restaurant nearby and booked a small private room.
“How did Mr. Zong find me?” Jiang Jitang poured himself a bowl of clear tea.
Only Officer Han and his colleague knew about his healing ability. Was it because they couldn’t keep their mouths shut, or had the government organization become a sieve?
“A talent like Mr. Jiang can’t stay hidden. It’s normal.”
“There’s a difference between can’t stay hidden and being dug out by someone.”
They both smiled politely, each more courteous than the other. Only the honest driver sat quietly.
“I came with sincerity. Please consider it, Mr. Jiang?”
Zong Yao pushed his phone over. On the screen was a string of zeros. Two million.
The price had gone up.
But Jiang Jitang didn’t even glance at it, as if the money-smelling dirt held no appeal. “Won’t Mr. Zong introduce himself properly? If this offends, I apologize in advance. I’m a newcomer with no background, so I tend to be cautious.”
Zong Yao smiled pleasantly. “Of course.”
“I’m Zong Yao of the Research Society, a level-six Cube-world player. In the Southeast District, the Research Society is one of the top player organizations. We possess over thirty percent of the still-accessible Cube game data, and we have veterans who guide new players through levels. Won’t Mr. Jiang reconsider?”
Jiang Jitang pretended to understand, though he didn’t. “I’ve heard of it. But I’m a lone wolf. Your offer is generous, Mr. Zong, it’s simply not for me.”
Zong Yao wasn’t angry. High-level reusable healing items were extremely rare. Even a one-time use was valuable. Someone carrying a reusable high-tier healing tool was a rare commodity anywhere.
A single heal could mean a life in the game—someone like Jiang Jitang had every right to pick and choose.
And having healing ability meant he’d never lack for strong teammates or money in real life, so the two-million monthly salary and escorting services weren’t very attractive.
Today’s visit was just to show goodwill, to leave an impression.
“If you change your mind, you can contact me anytime.”
“I’ll think about it.” Jiang Jitang stood up, but before leaving, he extended his hand toward the driver. “Next time we can talk directly. Farewell.”
Zong Yao froze. The driver slowly removed his glasses, and his suppressed presence instantly revealed itself.
“A pleasure. Zong Zheng of the Research Society.”
The black car arrived quietly, left quietly.
Jiang Jitang updated the stranger’s contact to “Research Society – Zong Yao.”
Then he added another number: “Research Society – Zong Zheng.”
One a level-six player; one unknown.
What was a level-six Cube player?
Ding-Dong!
[Zong Yao of the Research Society has transferred 100,000-yuan to you. Please check.]
Jiang Jitang frowned at his phone. With the transfer info came another message: [My apologies.]
[…This broken app that limits transfers to 20k per time can transfer 100k at once?]
He accepted the money and thought that next time they came for treatment, he’d give them a 20% discount.
“It’s this late already?”
Unknowingly, there were only ten minutes left before his appointment with the first recycling station owner. He immediately pushed aside thoughts of cubes and games.
Delivery work was his main job.
—
In the car driving away—
“Bro, what do you think?” As soon as they left the neighborhood, Zong Yao couldn’t hold back and asked the driver—his older brother, the leader of the Research Society.
“Great potential. Strong will.”
The gentle, unremarkable man from moments earlier now felt dangerous and forceful without his glasses, ambition written all over his face.
If Jiang Jitang cared about business circles, he’d recognize the two brothers as young heirs of a major conglomerate.
“You think he’ll join us?” Zong Yao asked.
“No.”
“Why not? Our organization isn’t good?”
Zong Zheng smiled as he turned the wheel, the black sedan merging into traffic.
“No matter how good, it’s not what he wants. Enough about this. In a few days I’ll be challenging the ninth-stage dungeon again. Get everything ready.”
Zong Yao was shocked. “Do you really have to go? We don’t have any dungeon-escape items left.”
“I have to. The officials are too gentle—they can’t suppress anything. This is our chance.”
Zong Zheng pressed lightly on the wheel. “Heroes rise in chaos. The opportunity is there—it depends on whether we can seize it.”
—
At that time, Jiang Jitang had arrived at the recycling station.
The first owner who replied was Mr. Zhang, who liked local nine-layer cakes. Jiang Jitang brought him a box.
When Mr. Zhang saw him and the cakes, he immediately recognized him.
“Aiya, Jitang! Long time no see. You’re in university now?”
“Just graduated. Good business, Boss Zhang?” He glanced around; the recycling station had expanded.
“Barely scraping by.” Boss Zhang laughed.
Back then, Jiang Jitang had scavenged a lot of treasures here. The kid was likable, capable, and smart. The floor, wardrobe, and desk in his home were all sourced here—80–90% new at 30% of the price.
Since they were old acquaintances, the treatment was naturally different.
“I’ll show you the back area. These influencer-style wooden cabins are all decommissioned, but the materials are good. For an old customer, bottom price.”
In the messy backyard were mobile wooden cabins: two-story villa types and tiny tool sheds, priced high to low.
Among the double-story villas, Jiang picked the plainest one.
“Good eye. It looks shabby, but the materials are excellent.”
Boss Zhang explained everything like reciting scripture: “Excluding the eaves, it’s 2.5 × 3.2 meters, 2.7 meters tall. One door, two windows with stainless steel bars, built-in water and electrical tubing, and an outer eave one meter wide with a clothes rod.
“The structure is hot-dip galvanized steel. The exterior is carbonized wood. Inside is fireproof insulation. Look here—the floor has three layers: steel pipes at the bottom, anti-mold moisture-proof layer in the middle, treated wood on top. If you want, I’ll change the waterproof tarp on the roof for free.”
Hot-dip galvanized steel resisted corrosion for years. Carbonized wood was anti-rot, anti-insect, and moisture-resistant.
The fireproof insulation kept the cabin from becoming a steam room in summer or a freezer in winter, and slowed fire spread.
Within a limited budget, it was a great choice.
“How much?”
“Anyone else—1,200 at least. For you, discount—830.”
“If it were half-new, that would be fair. But look at this wear—it’s been through god-knows-how-many owners. I suspect it’s been used over ten years. 560.”
“You won’t find anything at that price! And it hasn’t been used ten years. It was a ticket booth—lots of wear but quality materials. How about 780?”
“Only the structure is steel; the rest is wood and composite. Let’s meet halfway: 650, and give me a few replacement boards—the damaged ones are too far gone.”
After much bargaining, they settled on 680, including extra carbonized boards. In the afternoon, the cabin would be dismantled and delivered to his home.
“You’ll have to assemble it yourself.” Boss Zhang winced. He remembered how deadly this kid was at bargaining.
“No problem.” Jiang Jitang picked up a dented metal water tank and some plastic pipes.
“These too, yeah?”
Boss Zhang saw they weren’t worth much and nodded.
After paying the deposit, Jiang Jitang went to a second recycling station—not for wood, but for materials to build a bunk bed. Tent cabins needed matching furniture.
“Brother Xia, could you process these for me?” Jiang Jitang brought iron frames and wooden planks.
The shop allowed no customer operation of cutting or grinding tools for safety; workers did it for a low fee.
His guest room bed and wooden sofa were made this way.
While the workers got started, Jiang spotted something else.
“Brother Xia, can these be used?”
They were leftover wood offcuts.
“No use. Take them if you like.”
He instantly grabbed a woven sack and picked out the good ones.
Soon, the workers finished a simple 1.4 × 2 meter iron bunk bed, with guard rails, ladder, and wooden planks.
Jiang Jitang also found two palm-fiber mattresses, exactly 1.4 meters wide.
“How much for all this?”
Boss Xia ate the watermelon Jiang Jitang brought—unable to refuse after accepting food. “Discount—130, alright?”
“Throw in that wardrobe?” Jiang Jitang pointed at a damaged composite-board wardrobe.
“That huge thing? Give—”
“The legs are broken, half the door is missing. Who would buy it? Even dismantled the boards are worthless.”
Eventually he got two beds with mattresses and the broken wardrobe for 130. Boss Xia’s watermelon was a losing deal.
He still had 90 yuan left—enough for second-hand solar lamps and a broken metal fan, plus switches and a faucet.
The bag of wood pieces wasn’t counted at all.
The solar panel wasn’t big—laminated tempered glass cells with a 20-year lifespan.
As for the fan, Jiang Jitang repaired it on the spot. He’d connect it with the solar panel—fan for heat, light for darkness.
“You’re so young—how do you know all this?” Boss Xia rubbed his round belly full of watermelon.
“Saving where I can. Gotta live, right?”
“Not many young people think like that. I’ll deliver your stuff later.” So many items for so little money, and he still delivered them. A rare generous moment—thank the watermelon.
Leaving the recycling station, Jiang Jitang headed to Old Street.
He still had 90 yuan earmarked for gifts to earn good reviews.
After browsing, he bought flour and ingredients for chiffon cake, plus cream and discounted fruit. Then sandpaper, clear spray paint, and a 60-color cheap acrylic marker set—nearly spending all 90.
Everything for this delivery order was ready.
Time to meet Officer Han.
—
At a dessert shop.
Han Shuo had been waiting ten minutes.
He shaved, changed clothes—showing respect.
It wasn’t entirely for Jiang Jitang. Mostly, he felt hope again, so he cared about his appearance. Anyone who saw a chance to live wouldn’t accept death quietly.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” A gentle, handsome young man sat beside him and smiled at the staff.
“One chocolate cake roll and a jasmine milk tea, please.”
“Of course!” The exhausted-looking clerk brightened at his polite tone.
Soon the drink was ready. Jiang Jitang paid and returned to the table. Officer Han’s condition looked better—no worsening wounds.
Jiang Jitang sipped his milk tea.
“Someone named Zong Yao from the Research Society came today wanting to work with me. But I’ve only healed one person. Do you have any clue, Officer Han?”
Officer Han’s expression changed. “The Research Society?”
