Chapter 34: Hungry Hell
After eating their fill and no longer having to worry about the Hunger Hell’s starvation mechanism, Yan Wuzhen took Tang Mobai on a walk, during which Tang Mobai roughly grasped the pricing system for items in Lost Paradise.
Transactions between demons in Lost Paradise were about 20–30% cheaper than in the Demon Shops, which could only be accessed inside dungeon worlds. No wonder the trading guilds here were so massive—if given a choice, most people would obviously prefer to trade here.
Tang Mobai quickly noticed that many shops displayed guild banners. Yan Wuzhen explained, “Only guilds that are part of a trade association can open shops here. Individual sellers have to go to the flea market next door—but that place is a mess, quality’s not guaranteed.”
“The trade association sure has things wrapped around its fingers,” Tang Mobai sighed, deliberately avoiding any stores affiliated with the Jade Society.
They strolled around for a while. The variety of items was astounding—from technological to magical, and even some bizarre, dizzying objects that looked like they came straight out of a Lovecraftian world. It really showed how advanced Lost Paradise’s commerce system was.
Tang Mobai was most drawn to the tech-side items, though unfortunately, because every world operated under different rules, they might not function on Earth. Otherwise, he’d buy them all in bulk just for the joy of “nation-building simulator” fun.
But realistically, for a nation-level organization, only technology that could be replicated on Earth—or artifacts with national-level strategic value—were worth anything. And those kinds of items were at least Epic-grade or higher. For now, Tang Mobai was just a bottom-feeder in Hunger Hell, where most circulating items were mundane. Unless he could confirm that an item’s rules matched Earth’s, there wasn’t much point in bringing it back.
He sighed repeatedly but still dutifully took out his camera to record the list of items being sold in Hunger Hell’s markets. Since there was no live stream this time, he’d have to record manually and let the expert team analyze later.
“Why are you filming that?” Yan Wuzhen asked curiously. “What’s so interesting about it?”
“It’s my first time here. Gotta have a souvenir!”
“…”
“Oh right—where can I sell items here?” Tang Mobai looked over.
Yan Wuzhen blinked. “You want to sell that potion? It’s not impossible, but selling as an individual is risky. You just got put on the Jade Society’s bounty list. If high-efficiency recovery potions suddenly flood the market, anyone with half a brain will connect the dots.”
“I’m not planning to sell that many,” Tang Mobai said. “I just want to see how much it’s worth.”
Yan Wuzhen thought for a moment. “If it’s just a few potions, that’s fine. Lots of demons pick up unique items when they run missions in other worlds. But those are usually consumables. I don’t really know what’s trending now, but your potion seems pretty solid. Still, better check the market yourself to be safe.”
Tang Mobai nodded. Besides the “Healing Potion” (temporarily renamed Restoration Elixir inside Lost Paradise), he also wanted to gauge the price of another item:
Item: One-Time Talisman of Peace
Quality: Common
Effect: Repels low-level spirits; glows warm when ghosts approach; shatters after use.
Yes—this talisman was derived from an artifact Tang Mobai had submitted from a supernatural-world mission.
Originally, researchers in reality couldn’t figure out the mysterious energy within the talisman. But once Tang Mobai introduced alchemy, progress was made. They still didn’t fully understand the principle, but by applying alchemical “energy conversion” theories, they managed to disperse and replicate the energy in other materials.
This one-time-use Peace Talisman was the result. It held very little energy—barely qualifying as a usable item. Compared to the refined Restoration Elixir, it was basically a by-product of research. Tang Mobai’s mission in Lost Paradise was to determine the market value of both.
If it worked, that would mean real-world research could translate directly into Lost Paradise—hugely reducing future risks.
Yan Wuzhen pointed to a shop deep inside the commercial street. “That’s the item buyback counter.” Then he crossed his arms and stayed behind while Tang Mobai went in.
To be cautious, Tang Mobai didn’t pull out the healing potion right away. He started with the Peace Talisman. The clerk gave it one lazy glance and waved impatiently. “Go try the flea market. We don’t buy junk like that here.”
Tang Mobai blinked. “You’re not even going to check it?”
The clerk sneered. “The energy fluctuation’s barely detectable. Obviously bottom-tier trash. And it’s a single-use item. Sure, Lost Paradise classifies it as a ‘common item,’ but it’s basically garbage. We’re not a recycling center.”
Tang Mobai walked out, face full of frustration—only to see Yan Wuzhen’s expectant smirk.
“You knew this would happen?”
“I figured you’d try the healing potion first. But yeah, consumables always get lowball prices from guild stores.” Yan Wuzhen shrugged. “They’ve got more than enough supply chains for those. Unless it’s something rare or unusually powerful, they’ll barely pay for it.”
“And those guild shop clerks are all arrogant snobs. I can’t stand dealing with them.”
Tang Mobai gave him a suspicious look. “Weren’t you in a guild yourself?”
“Yeah,” Yan Wuzhen snorted. “That’s how I know what they’re like.”
Dragging Yan Wuzhen along, Tang Mobai headed for the flea market, grumbling, “Hmph, they underestimate me now, but just wait till I make something amazing—they’ll regret it!”
Yan Wuzhen’s expression was blank. How old are you, again?
Thankfully, the flea market wasn’t far. At the entrance, Tang Mobai saw a sea of people—chaotic stalls, row after row of vendors selling everything imaginable. The place couldn’t have looked more different from the neat, luxurious commercial street.
Tang Mobai loved lively scenes, so he dove right in. By the time Yan Wuzhen blinked, the kid had vanished.
Tang Mobai, meanwhile, was too busy gawking around, eyes sparkling like a country bumpkin seeing the big city for the first time.
Well, to be fair—he was probably the only person from Earth who’d ever “come out to see the world.”
He whipped out his camera and began recording—stall by stall, from the entrance to mid-market—capturing prices and common items, even chatting with a few sellers about bestsellers. Eventually, he spotted a stall that said “Item Buyback.”
The owner was a young man with dyed blond hair, goggles on his head, and a handheld console in his hands. He lounged there lazily, absorbed in his game. Tang Mobai had to raise his voice:
“Hey, boss, do you buy items here?”
The blond looked up briefly as Tang Mobai showed him the Peace Talisman. “Homemade?”
“…That obvious?”
“Natural items never have such weak energy signatures—unless they’re almost depleted. But this is new and single-use.” The blond looked intrigued. He picked up a magnifier-like tool and inspected it. “Nice craftsmanship, though. Weak energy, but solid structure. Might burn a rookie ghost slightly—like a hot iron touch.”
The craftsmanship was good—it was industrial-grade, after all.
“How much could I sell it for?”
“Sell it? Hmm… You probably spent 1 point on appraisal, right? Alright then, 5 points—I’ll buy it, call it a friendly investment. Come to me again if you make better stuff later.”
It wasn’t the talisman he wanted, but Tang Mobai himself. For guildless demons like him, securing reliable item sources was key.
Tang Mobai agreed easily and then pulled out the healing potion. “What about this one?”
This time, the blond’s interest visibly sharpened. He lowered his goggles and studied the potion carefully. “Can I test it?”
“Go ahead.”
He pricked his arm with a dagger, dripped a single drop of potion on the wound, and watched it heal rapidly.
“Nice one, brother. This potion’s better than the little red potion. Name your price—if it’s fair, I’ll buy all you’ve got.”
Tang Mobai already knew the standard price of a small red potion: 8 points per bottle, with a production cost around 4. His improved Restoration Elixir was both stronger and cheaper—matching that cost for small batches, but dropping to as low as 2 points per bottle for large-scale production.
Not knowing what price to set, he asked, “You tell me.”
The blond instantly realized it was a first-time sale—probably a consumable from a mission world—so he offered slightly above market value. “12 points a bottle. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Crap, overbid, the blond thought, but didn’t go back on it. He cheerfully bought three bottles. “If you’ve got more like this, I’ll always take them. Price is negotiable.”
Then he noticed Tang Mobai looking conflicted. “What? You’ve got more?”
“Uh… not sure…”
“Let me see. My goggles are a high-tier appraisal tool—more accurate than Lost Paradise’s default. I can identify any item’s full specs… for a small fee, of course.”
In truth, the thing Tang Mobai wanted to test was a recent alchemical experiment—a prototype he’d made during downtime. It worked too well in real-world tests, though the test team had begged him to move the trials elsewhere. The researchers even took his formula, hoping to reproduce the effect.
He hadn’t appraised it yet, but figured it might still count as an alchemical construct. “Maybe it’s still…”
Then, suddenly, he felt something wrong—several gazes fixed sharply on him. He turned, just in time to see five figures pushing through the crowd.
“Tang Mobai?”
Tang Mobai didn’t react to the name, but the five glanced at their watches, nodded as if confirming, and said, “That’s him.”
Shit!
Without hesitation, Tang Mobai bolted—but the five moved faster, cutting off all escape routes. He dashed toward the exit and swung a fist at the man in front of him—but the man didn’t even flinch.
His punch stopped inches from the man’s nose. Tang Mobai’s body froze completely as a message appeared before his eyes:
[Safe Zone: Combat Between Players Is Prohibited]
Damn it!
No way to fight back—Tang Mobai twisted to dodge, but the brief interception was enough for the four others to catch up. They didn’t try to make physical contact with him. Instead, they released the golden ropes in their hands. The ropes sank into the ground, tracing a pentagram beneath Tang Mobai’s feet and forming a nearly invisible barrier.
[Item: Barrier Rope]
Quality: Common
Effect: Works on the ground. Anyone alive within the pentagram’s range will lose the ability to resist. Requires five people to maintain the barrier circle—if one leaves, the item becomes invalid. The pentagram can only restrain one person at a time.
Tang Mobai immediately felt his strength draining away. He collapsed weakly onto the ground, his gaze fixed on the emblem embroidered on their clothes—the mark of the Jade Society.
So they found out about my disguise?
The nearby stall owners and wandering bystanders froze for a moment, then quickly backed away, leaving a large empty space around them. People began whispering, and even the blond guy who had traded with Tang Mobai earlier snapped out of his daze. His reaction wasn’t slow either—he immediately backed off and shouted, “What are you people doing?!”
“Jade Society business. Outsiders, stay back,” the man said without even turning his head. The life-tree sigil of the Jade Society flashed on his back, catching everyone’s eye.
“So it really is the Jade Society.”
“Damn, that’s bold. This is the flea market—everyone knows it’s a safe zone.”
“You don’t get it. The Merchants’ Alliance is right next to the flea market, and the Jade Society’s influence there is top-tier among all guilds.”
“So who are they after?”
“Has to be him—Tang Mobai, the rookie who dared to publicly share alchemy knowledge on a livestream.”
“Ohhh, it’s that guy!”
Damn it, Tang Mobai’s face went pale. Wasn’t the Hungry Hell supposed to be a safe zone? Half-sitting on the floor, he forced a strained smile. “Brothers, you’re here for me? Can’t we just sit down and talk this through?”
“We can talk,” said the man coolly, “if you’re willing to hand over the person behind you. Then we might have grounds for negotiation.”
Tang Mobai fell silent, glancing around—he was starting to get it. They were exploiting a loophole again. The Hungry Hell forbids harming others, but if you don’t actually cause damage, it’s fair game. He couldn’t move, but they couldn’t hurt him either.
So what, they plan to keep me trapped here forever? No, wait—something was wrong.
Then it hit him—the mechanism of Hungry Hell that Yan Wuzhen had once explained. Tang Mobai’s expression changed instantly.
They were going to use the rules of the realm to force him to death by starvation!
“Looks like you finally understand your situation,” the man said with a smile as Tang Mobai’s face darkened. “Tell us who’s backing you. Spill everything you know, and maybe we’ll let you live.”
“Otherwise, you’ll end up devouring yourself in front of everyone until you die.”
Tang Mobai sighed softly. “So this is what they call karma, huh? I’ve exploited so many loopholes, and now someone’s using one against me.”
“Getting caught by us isn’t a bad way to go,” the man said proudly. “It’s not too late to repent. Hunger is painful, and don’t expect your teammates to save you. Anyone with half a brain knows better than to cross the Jade Society.”
Tang Mobai’s expression hardened. “Then I choose not to be human anymore. I choose to transcend!”
With deadly seriousness, he pulled out two items from the real world—ace tools prepared by the expert team, meant to be used only in absolute desperation.
A modified gas mask, and a grenade marked with a toxic symbol.
“This is your doing,” he said coldly.
“Are you an idiot?” the man sneered. “You think because you saw us use weapons here, that you can too? Too bad you never learned the rules properly.”
“No,” Tang Mobai said, putting on the gas mask. “The one who doesn’t understand the rules… is you.”
He threw the grenade down. The smug looks on the Jade Society members’ faces hadn’t even faded when a thick yellow gas exploded outward!
By all logic, lethal weapons shouldn’t even work inside the Hungry Hell!
Tang Mobai had already confirmed the system with Yan Wuzhen during the revival match—and the expert team had studied it too. Two core rules applied:
- Any item capable of dealing damage simply wouldn’t activate.
- Any item that could destroy structures also couldn’t be used.
But—some non-lethal items were permitted, since traders needed to test effects in the bazaar.
And the system judged “lethality” by whether it required medical treatment.
This gas bomb? Aside from smelling bad enough to make people question their life choices, it didn’t actually injure anyone—no treatment needed.
But damn, it stank. Stank worse than a cesspit after three days under the sun!
The instant the yellow cloud spread, every onlooker’s face twisted in horror. They bolted, abandoning the show.
Even with a specialized gas mask, Tang Mobai could still catch faint whiffs of the stench—an unholy mix of stinky tofu, durian, and fermented herring, concentrated a hundredfold. Not only foul, but nausea-inducing, clawing at the very soul. The stench would cling for three days.
Within moments, the entire flea market emptied. Only the five guild members remained—pale, trembling, but still standing.
Tang Mobai couldn’t help but applaud. “Impressive. You’re the toughest people I’ve ever seen last this long in that smell.”
In the real world, he sometimes tinkered with alchemy experiments under his researchers’ encouragement. This “failed invention” was one of his early prototypes. Failed, yes—but it had one remarkable trait: an odor that no one with a normal sense of smell could endure.
They tried holding their breath, but it didn’t last. Two minutes later, one of them slipped.
Brain: “You just ate shit.”
Body: “No, I didn’t.”
Brain: “You did! Spit it out!”
BLEGH!
The first gag triggered a chain reaction—everyone started vomiting uncontrollably. Some even foamed at the mouth as they lost consciousness.
The barrier collapsed on its own. Tang Mobai bolted—this was a mutual destruction weapon if there ever was one. Stay any longer and he’d go down too.
“W-wait… don’t— blegh!”
“You go puke by yourself! I’m outta here!”
Tang Mobai dashed out of the flea market, noticing more people approaching—members of other guilds drawn by the commotion.
“This way!” A piano wire wrapped around his arm, and without hesitation, he followed Yan Wuzhen’s lead down a hidden shortcut.
The moment he entered, a dark cloth dropped over his head. Yan Wuzhen threw a black trench coat over him, then pulled out a sleek mask and slapped it onto Tang Mobai’s face. The mask adhered automatically, cold to the touch.
Before Tang Mobai could speak, Yan Wuzhen said sharply, “Don’t ask anything. Immediately purchase a one-day lock on your location from Lost Paradise.”
Tang Mobai didn’t hesitate. To his surprise, Lost Paradise responded.
[One-Day Coordinate Lock: 200 points deducted]
They slipped through an alley, and when they emerged, they looked completely different. Around them, demons and freelancers were still gossiping about the flea market “attack,” paying them no mind.
Back at the safehouse, Tang Mobai finally asked, “How did they even find me?”
“The Jade Society’s full of alchemists,” Yan Wuzhen said grimly. “It’s not surprising they developed a detection tool like that. Also… you stink.”
Tang Mobai, still anxious, ignored the jab. “You told me to buy out my location—will that actually help? What if someone bids higher? Will Lost Paradise sell me out?”
“It won’t go that far. Personal buyouts take priority over third-party purchases.”
“So Lost Paradise does have some ethics,” Tang Mobai muttered with a dry laugh.
Yan Wuzhen didn’t answer. When Tang Mobai turned, he found Yan Wuzhen standing all the way across the room—keeping as far away from him as possible.
“You’d better calculate how long your points can last,” Yan Wuzhen warned. “If the Jade Society’s set on hunting you, they can drag this out indefinitely. A coordinate lock lasts one day—do you have enough points to keep burning them?”
Tang Mobai took a deep breath, forcing himself calm. “Any other options? How much would it take to permanently block tracking?”
“There isn’t such an option,” Yan Wuzhen replied. “But you can check the market—there might be an item with a similar function. Trouble is, those alchemy tools are usually sold by the Jade Society.”
“So it’s a dead end, then?!”
“There’s still one way,” Yan Wuzhen said. “Enter a dungeon. You can hide for a while—and grow stronger for payback.”
Tang Mobai didn’t respond. That was indeed the “standard” move in Lost Paradise, but it wasn’t ideal for him. According to the experts’ plan, he should stay in reality as much as possible—to give scientists time to study alchemy tech and strengthen him through training.
Besides, ever since learning what Lost Paradise’s missions really entailed, part of him recoiled. The next dungeon wouldn’t be another revival match—it would be a true apocalypse. They’d enter as the very cause of a world’s destruction.
As Tang Mobai’s expression shifted between dread and calculation, Yan Wuzhen quietly unpacked groceries and stuffed them into the fridge. Seth wandered over to inspect a can of motor oil, paused, and said, “This brand tastes bad. It’s bitter.”
“Oh? That’s new knowledge,” Yan Wuzhen deadpanned, snatching the oil back. “Drink it or don’t—but pay for it first. Come on, cough up the points!”
Though technically teammates, Yan Wuzhen’s attitude toward Seth hadn’t softened in the least. Seth just looked at him with a strange, indulgent expression—like someone watching a kitten knock over a cup—and calmly transferred the points.
Yan Wuzhen shivered, frowning deeply, and stepped back several paces as if avoiding the plague.
Tang Mobai didn’t notice the exchange between the other two. “Right now, I still have to stay in Lost Paradise for at least two more days. I only have 500 points left—no, 340. Even if I sell all the potions I brought, it might not be enough to last the next three days.”
It was heartbreaking. He’d barely scraped through the Revival Match and earned 500 points, and now—before he’d even done anything—most of it was already gone. His heart ached just thinking about it.
And if he wanted to survive the Jade Society’s pursuit, he’d have to spend 200 points every single day. At this rate, living was a luxury he couldn’t afford!
He had escaped the Revival Match, but the feeling of Death breathing down his neck still hadn’t gone away. Being broke was a death sentence too!
“Other than entering a dungeon, is there any other way?” he asked.
“There is,” Yan Wuzhen said. “Earn enough points. If you can afford to buy out your coordinates every day, the Jade Society can’t flip the entire Hungry Hell upside down just to find you. With enough points, you can do anything here. In fact, if you had enough, you could even start making trouble for the Jade Society.”
Tang Mobai looked down bitterly at his balance. “If I had that many points, I wouldn’t be stressing about survival, would I?”
“There are still ways to make money,” Yan Wuzhen replied, ignoring Seth completely. “You’re an alchemist, aren’t you? I’ve never heard of an alchemist who’s short on points.”
“I’ve thought about making and selling potions,” Tang Mobai said helplessly, “but alchemy needs startup costs. I don’t even have a workshop right now. The equipment, tools, and raw materials—it’s all expensive! Even if I sell every potion I have, I still won’t have enough.”
The expert team had already planned to use healing potions to break into Lost Paradise’s internal market. That was why they’d sent Tang Mobai to scout current product circulation. But no one had expected things to move so fast—the initial funding wasn’t even in place yet!
Yan Wuzhen fell silent for a moment. “…Do you remember the Demon Casino?”
“Of course I do,” Tang Mobai said warily. “What about it?”
“The Demon Casino has the richest prize pool in history—technically a bounty—on who could win the No. 9 arena’s Revival Match.” Yan Wuzhen pointed to himself, then to the other two. “Now that the result’s out, the reward is 100,000 points. With that, surviving the Jade Society’s hunt wouldn’t be a problem. The only question is—do you have the guts to go claim it?”
Tang Mobai blinked. “Wait, what? Can they take the reward back?”
“Not exactly,” Yan Wuzhen said with a thin smile. “The Demon Casino has a decent reputation so far—no record of breaking contracts. But we did just destroy one of their most profitable projects in the Hungry Hell.”
“In other words,” he added grimly, “they won’t let us walk away with that bounty so easily.”
Thank you for reading 🙂 I hope you all liked my translations. If you enjoyed my work, please consider buying me a Ko-Fi 😉
