Dream Delivery System: My Delivery Jobs Keep Changing History – CH77

Chapter 77

“Confirmed. The source of the special-effect food is Jin City of the C-Nation.”

The foreigner in the car awkwardly pronounced the words Jin City as he spoke. He also sent over the photos he had secretly taken.

“The photo only shows an unopened, empty storefront. Only players who come in person can see the shop. Based on my intel, the shop was opened by an official healer from Jin City, and currently the resources are monopolized by several player organizations there.”

“You did very well. You will receive the payment you want.”
The wealthy man, a piece of cloth draped over his head, put down his phone and let out a low hum.
“Hazard, prepare. I’ll go over as an official partner.”

Monopoly? He had no intention of fighting with those civilian players. If he was going to work with someone, he’d go straight to the Jin City authorities—he had resources, and they needed resources.

He turned to his all-purpose assistant, “You prepare the meeting gifts. What does that healer like? Cars? Yachts? Prepare a sports car young people like—and gold and jewels for the ladies.”

“Your Highness, the other party is an official of the C-Nation. Items used by their officials are restricted—safety and practicality are prioritized. I recommend purchasing Xia-made high-end electric cars and smart phones. Recently, Xia launched a new smartphone that achieved a breakthrough in aerial projection technology.”

The man nodded, “Oh? Buy several. Send a set as a gift. I’ll keep the rest for myself.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

—

Meanwhile, far away in Jin City, Jiang Jitang was still worrying that without enough new faces visiting his shop, it wouldn’t meet the upgrade requirements.

He didn’t know that after Minister Jiang learned what he needed, she had already made preparations. She had people quietly spread the word about his special-effect food among high-tier player groups. It had only been a week, but the results were significant.

Minister Jiang had also reported the situation to her superiors and would take responsibility for handling the matter.

Because the current production of special-effect food was too low, and the effects were relatively mild, higher-ups didn’t pay much attention. After Jiang Xingzhou reported it once, the investigation was paused.

Jin City’s official player organizations had many urgent issues to handle—this was a turbulent time.

Civilian player groups, however, did not have the resources or composure of the official side.

Information was the greatest wealth. The earlier one acquired intel, the earlier one profited. High-level players were especially cautious about intelligence gathering. They were the first to discover special-effect food and had already traced it to Jin City.

The smart ones, after learning Jiang Jitang’s identity, immediately reached out to the authorities, asking them to make introductions.

No one dared to confront the C-Nation directly—the true giant among nations.

Those who couldn’t or didn’t want to use official channels tried to find Jiang Jitang in private, but before they could get close, they were dragged away by his bodyguards.

Trying to use people around Jiang Jitang was even harder—he was busier than a dog, and his number was already in a special list. No outsiders could contact him.

The most effective person, his mother, was abroad—completely unreachable.

After running in circles, all of them returned to seek out Jin City’s official organizations.

Too many player groups had come recently. After screening them based on Jiang Jitang’s criteria—clear political stance, no gambling/drugs/prostitution, no criminal record, frontline players—there were still more than ten capable of cooperation.

Jin City officials called the heads of these organizations together for a small meeting.

After a round of “friendly negotiations,” the matter of allocating quotas was settled.

Everyone had complaints:
Groups with many members said their share was too small;
Groups with fewer members said they arrived earlier and deserved more.

But in the end, they achieved a somewhat satisfactory “dumpling wrapping–style resolution.”

At least they were better off than the groups who weren’t qualified for allocation at all.

Inside the meeting room, the big and small leaders were still griping sarcastically, slapping tables and throwing notebooks. Minister Jiang, her mind buzzing from the noise, stepped outside for air.

She had never smoked before, but lately she felt the urge to smoke away her stress.

Regardless, the situation was temporarily resolved.

There were still a few civilian groups and foreign contacts seeking her, but she expected Jiang Jitang’s store would upgrade in a few days—new quotas would appear. She had a strong hunch.

So there was no need to rush.

As for their intense request to “meet the Daddy Chef,” Minister Jiang planned to wait two days and ask Jiang Jitang first before arranging online or offline contact.

In the meantime, she would warn those groups to behave. They were either outstanding individuals or came from powerful backgrounds—some were even celebrities. She definitely didn’t want to spark a terrifying trending scandal like, “Why does every prince and billionaire fall for him?”

In short, all this trouble was not allowed to reach Jiang Jitang. Blocking his door was absolutely forbidden. All chaos must end with her.

She promised to keep Jiang Jitang’s life peaceful—and she intended to keep that promise.

Jiang Jitang knew none of this. He only saw that after restocking the shelves the next day, the number of buyers shot from a dozen to more than twenty.

Sorting through his memories, he understood, “Minister Jiang has done me a huge favor.”

He had only vaguely hinted to Jiang Xingzhou about the shop’s requirements, but the Minister always handled things thoroughly, anticipating his needs.

She did her work quietly without asking for credit—but Jiang Jitang wouldn’t let an honest person suffer.

“The store must upgrade. I need to reserve an exclusive quota for the officials,” he said. Family should have family privileges.

[Would you like to view the new upgrade tasks?] the system bubble reminded him, urging him to focus on the future.

“View.”
He held a coffee with milk and sugar, finally done with his morning work.

Task 1: Prepare a birthday party for Taomi the boy. Budget: 86 yuan. Note: Can you prepare food for every guest? (Difficulty: ??, Countdown: 36:14:54)

Task 2: Resolve the ghost in the old castle. Budget: 30,000 yuan. Note: The castle must be sold. (Difficulty: ???, Countdown: 123:41:17)

Task 3: Provide assistance to the migrating Sala tribe. Budget: 170,000 yuan. Note: Total: 532 people. (Difficulty: ?????, Countdown: 72:53:27)

A new record—five-star difficulty.

Jiang Jitang couldn’t help staring at the third task, but the countdown made it clear—he had to prepare the first task first.

“Let me see the details.”

Task one: prepare a birthday party for a child. The budget was only 86 yuan, and the requirement was that every guest must be able to eat. With only one or two guests, it might work. But too many guests would be troublesome.

“…?”
He scrolled up, then back down, reading repeatedly.

“Are the guests… birds?”

Not humans, not magical beasts—birds living in the attic cracks and all their bird friends.
Because the main character, Taomi, was a male Cinderella living in the attic.

“It looks like an isolated little village.”
The video showed a peaceful village with stone-and-wood houses and stone-paved roads—no electric wires in sight.

The wisher was a young resident of this village.

Orphaned, living under his stepmother.
Though the house and savings belonged to his parents, he received nothing. To have basic survival and schooling, he had to work nonstop.

Even so, his stepbrother mocked and bullied him daily.

Villagers saw everything but didn’t dare interfere—his stepmother’s family held power.

Taomi was now twelve. Old enough to work, his stepmother planned to drive him out. In these last days in his parents’ house, filled with memories, he wanted to celebrate his twelfth birthday.

Since his parents died, he hadn’t celebrated a birthday once.

“What do birds eat…?”
Jiang Jitang had never raised birds, so he went online.
But different birds had different diets—meat eaters, seed eaters, insect eaters, scavengers…

“There’s no mention of species. Birds living near houses… maybe swallows?”

To be safe, he’d need to prepare a bit of everything.

“Mealworms: 6.8 yuan per half kilo. Mixed grains for small birds: 2.6 yuan per half kilo… They eat better than I do. My rice at home is only 2.6 yuan per jin.”

At this rate, 86 yuan wasn’t enough.

And he couldn’t just feed the bird guests—Taomi, the birthday boy, couldn’t just sit there hungry while birds feasted.

He opened the task details again, carefully examining the photos and videos.

“Fields and forest outside the attic… not as wild as last time, but such an environment must have magical beasts, right?”

He had the ability to communicate with magical beasts. Maybe he could use modern goods to trade with them for bird food?

That thought opened up a new path.

Just two days ago, in the anti-gambling group, a melon farmer had invited everyone to pick vine-pulling melons—the last batch of small watermelons picked with the vines.

These weren’t sweet or crisp enough for market, so they were usually used as animal feed or given away during vine clearing.

But “not sweet enough” was just a human preference. As fruit, they were perfectly edible and nutritious.

“Free loot again.”

He immediately messaged the farmer, saying he’d come pick melons that afternoon.

“Teacher Jiang?”
A voice message came.
“You’re too polite. My field’s almost empty, but my older brother’s field is untouched. It’s better than mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“Thank you, Uncle Wei.”

“No need to be polite—you saved our family.”

When Jiang Jitang first arrived in Jin City, he had been asked to help at a gambling den.

Mahjong, poker, sunflower seeds—he crushed the gamblers so badly they almost cried. Later, to scare some addicted youths straight, he demonstrated card tricks that terrified them out of gambling.
Uncle Wei’s son was one of them—now traumatized by the sight of cards.

That was the network he had built.

That afternoon, Jiang Jitang borrowed a cargo tricycle. The fields were near the sea—driving was faster. And he needed a vehicle to carry the melons.

Uncle Wei’s older brother wasn’t around. Jiang Jitang took pictures and sent them over for confirmation. He was told which plots to harvest.

“Uncle Wei, who owns these fig trees by the road?”
He had noticed many ripe figs on the way over, with birds pecking at them.

“Oh, those? Wild. Pick as you like. I’ve picked some—they taste decent, no pesticides, but small and sometimes buggy.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He put down his phone and looked over the field. Among the yellowing leaves, the striped skins of melons peeked out.

Two hours later…

A kilometer away, the bodyguard team was watching through binoculars.

“An hour and forty-two minutes. His clothes are soaked through. Good thing he rested for ten minutes earlier and replenished water and food. Status: Yellow alert.”

In this blazing sun, picking melons that long was exhausting. And he wasn’t just picking—he was arranging the vines too. Anyone could guess the workload.

Ordinary people would easily get heatstroke. The bodyguards were ready to rush in at any moment.

Fortunately, nothing went wrong. Jiang Jitang cleared the entire field, even uprooting the vines and setting them aside.

“Only the roadside figs left.”
He drank electrolyte water, steam rising off his body. The sugar helped him recover—his fatigue eased.

“I have to hurry. I have an appointment tonight.”

He glanced at the shimmering peach-colored gemstone on his phone and narrowed his eyes.

The melons in Uncle Wei’s brother’s field were indeed good.
He gave some to the tricycle owner when returning the vehicle and two baskets to the neighbors.

Elderly locals never turned down vine-pulling melons—it was the last batch of local melons. After this, they’d have to buy expensive melons from the western regions.

Two baskets of the best melons remained—he would use them to trade with magical beasts.

He also picked a basket of figs—ripe, attracting birds and bugs. He didn’t dare look too closely at what had landed on him during the picking…

“Ah! It’s already five o’clock!”
Only thirty minutes left before his appointment.
He jumped up and dashed into the shower.

On the other side of Jin City, in a bookstore…

“All set, here you go.”

“Thank you.”
Parsons took the paper bag of books—full-color, glossy pages, quite heavy.

The Priestess’s Potion Soup, a scientific book on magical plants—mostly strange plants from around the world with hallucinogenic or poisonous effects.

That person had always been interested in such things.

He had only “happened” to pass by the bookstore. And the store was running a discount…

He totally wasn’t buying it on purpose.

Parsons repeated this excuse to himself several times until he almost believed it. Then he got into the back seat of a black sedan.

“Boss, we’re leaving.”

Parsons nodded. He hadn’t gotten his C-Nation driver’s license yet, so he hired a driver.

Though it was still bright outside, many streetlights were already on. As the understated black car glided across the road, Parsons saw couples everywhere—holding flowers or gifts, walking hand in hand.

He frowned slightly.

“Is today a holiday?”

The driver laughed, “Boss, you haven’t been in the C-Nation long, right? Today is Qixi.”