Chapter 65: A Peaceful and Serene Bluff

As a well-known genius within the Management Bureau, Xiang Jianxing's status and authority within the Management Bureau far surpassed Zhao Yan and Cotton's.

Even Zhao Yan and Cotton knew the inside story of the Quiet Town, so how could Xiang Jianxing not know? But even knowing that the probability of clearing the dungeon with this group of newcomers was slim, he still had to grit his teeth and push through.

Taking advantage of the time before the dungeon began, Xiang Jianxing shared intelligence about the Quiet Town with everyone.

His voice was loud, not avoiding the three members of the Iron Armor Group in the distance, nor Wu Chang's True Self and the Melancholy Literary Boy on the other side.

"The pollution level in the Quiet Town is very high. Everyone must act as carefully as possible. Once the death toll gets too high, it's easy for the dungeon to enter a state on the verge of losing control."

"Even for your own sake, absolutely do not fight amongst yourselves. Trust me, if this dungeon enters a state of losing control, even I may not have a chance of leaving alive."

This sentence was clearly directed at the three members of the Iron Armor Group.

The three members of the Iron Armor Group looked thoughtful, but did not respond.

Xiang Jianxing continued: "The Quiet Town places great emphasis on rules. Every player who enters the dungeon will be assigned a profession. Check your clothes; you should find a tag or name tag with your profession written on it."

Upon hearing this, everyone immediately checked their clothes and indeed found something.

Wu Chang found a copper name tag on his chest, with Postman written on it.

"During the time you survive in the town, you must complete the most basic work of your profession. If you fail to complete work for three consecutive days, you will encounter danger sufficient to be fatal."

"Trust me, absolutely do not think that your strength is enough to resist the rules."

Wu Chang clicked his tongue. What Quiet Town, it should be renamed Blood and Sweat Factory.

Failing to meet KPIs for three days results in immediate physical layoffs; even capitalists aren't this ruthless.

Seeing that the transparent barrier maintaining the safe zone was on the verge of collapse, Xiang Jianxing quickened his speech.

"I don't know much about the other information. To clear the Quiet Town, everyone must work together. Based on our situation, let's tentatively exchange information here once every day or every two days."

"If anyone collects clues about the missing Earl, or a way to enter the Earl's Manor, be sure to contact me immediately. My profession is editor; you can find me at the newspaper office."

The moment Xiang Jianxing finished speaking, the transparent barrier around them shattered, and the dungeon officially began.

The dungeon had already assigned residences and work areas for the players. After briefly exchanging profession information, everyone dispersed on the spot.

Upon entering the dungeon, besides the identity name tag, each player also had an extra map in hand, with various areas of the town marked on it.

Wu Chang first controlled his True Self to shake off the others, recalled his True Self, and then, based on the map, headed to his post office.

On the way to the post office, he was also observing the town.

The town was located on a massive island; the island was the town, and the town was the island.

The island and the town shared the same name: Bluff.

The timeline of the dungeon plane was approximately the magically altered First Industrial Revolution.

Giant steamships had already appeared in the world, post offices and newspaper offices existed, but electric lights had not yet appeared.

The emergence of steamships shortened the distance between worlds and intensified trade around the globe.

The prevalence of maritime trade brought many remote small islands to life, establishing neat and beautiful towns.

Bluff was one of them.

The urban area on the island wasn't too large, so Wu Chang easily found the post office.

It was called a post office, but in reality it was only the size of three or four newsstands. The building as a whole used a bright red, looking like an oversized fire hydrant, standing out even at night.

The post office door wasn't locked; a push opened it directly.

The post office was divided into two areas: the outer side was the work area belonging to the postman, and the inner side was a rest room with a bed.

An onboarding notice was posted on the wall by the door, stating that due to the suicide of the town's previous postman, after work coordination, the new postman was about to arrive in town.

Wu Chang's photo was attached to the notice, but the name field was blurred by water, seemingly to facilitate his use of a pseudonym.

He thought for a moment, then wrote Xiao En next to the notice.

Back at the Moonlight Sanatorium, he had already been using this name; it felt familiar. He had to say, the town's post office administrator really liked red. Not only was the outside of the post office completely red, but even inside the post office, red could be seen everywhere.

However, the more he looked at this red, the stranger it seemed, until he walked to his workstation and found irregular dark red splashed on the chair and desk.

He picked up a letter opener, scraped a layer of red powder off the desk, crushed it, and held it under his nose to smell—there was a bloody scent.

What covered the walls inside the room was blood.

Barring any accidents, it was still the previous postman's blood.

With such a large area of spurting blood, the notice at the door actually said suicide.

He could imagine the deceased in the notice cutting his own throat while simultaneously exerting his last breath to spray blood everywhere.

It's a stroke of genius, just like being shot six times in the back and committing suicide.

In a building like this, comparable to a B-grade splatter film crime scene, if one were an ordinary person, they couldn't stay for even a moment.

But Wu Chang had at least gone through two dungeons, seen hundreds of hypochondriacs rot and mutate, and seen thousands of mountain bandits turn into frozen meat arranged neatly.

By comparison, a room full of blood plasma was such a small scene that it was no longer enough to affect his mood.

He fetched a bucket of water, wiped the chair and desk clean, found an oil lamp and lit it, and began reading the newspapers stored in the post office.

Some were local news from Bluff Island, and some were news from the outside world mentioning Bluff Island.

These news items had already been organized and annotated by someone, saving him a lot of effort.

Among them, placed on the very top, was a commendation news item.

"Under the leadership of Earl Germain, Bluff Town has gone five consecutive years without any public security incidents. The King affirmed Earl Germain's performance and awarded him the Ogri Silver Port Medal."

Wu Chang looked at the blood plasma covering the walls. Five years without any public security incidents—here?

Just as he was about to continue reading the newspaper, a sudden inspiration struck, and he sensed a gaze staring at him.

He raised his head and saw a huge face pressed against the glass window directly in front of him.

The other party gazed at him through the glass, preparing to strike the glass with a fist.

Having been discovered by Wu Chang, the man lowered his hand and pushed the door open to walk in directly.

"Are you the new postman?"

Wu Chang asked in confusion: "And you are?"

The newcomer was a middle-aged man of about forty, over two meters tall, with short golden curls, a round face, a short neck, and thick limbs—stocky as a bear.

He glanced at the wall, then said, "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Xiao En. I'm Marty, the owner of the general store in town."

Wu Chang glanced at the pitch-black night and asked, "Mr. Marty, what brings you here?"

Marty bared his uneven, yellow-stained teeth in a grin and said, "As a local, it's my duty to tell you—we on Breever Island are a people who respect the rules very much. Everyone should finish their own work on time and play their own part."

"We're like gears, all pushing the island forward together. The moment one gear stops turning, it affects every other gear."

"I hope you'll have enough professional ethics to face your work squarely, and not be like your predecessor—so arrogant, lazy, stupid! Pitiful! And selfish!"

The more Marty spoke, the more agitated he became, and by the end he was nearly roaring.

After his outburst, Marty regained his composure and smiled gently.

"In short, I hope you'll do your job seriously and deliver every piece of mail properly. Thank you."

Wu Chang watched Marty with full concentration and gave no response.

Though Marty's threatening feelings were sincere and full, as a warning they were far less persuasive than the lingering grudge attached to his body.

After all, the owner of that grudge was the previous mailman, whose remains had been splattered all over the room.

(End of chapter)