Chapter 17

Chapter 17: happy farm

At the same time, the money people brought out of the game skyrocketed to absurd prices.

Players categorized the coins by color: copper coins and silver coins, and above those, gold coins.

Not everyone got lucky like Ling Mo, who had earned three silver coins in her first game. Most players only came out with copper.

And in the middle of all those posts, Ling Mo spotted something that made her pause.

People were talking about her shop.

Plenty of them were guessing who the shop owner of “don’t miss out,” Soy Sauce Drunk, really was.

Where had those interstellar machines come from?

Of course, there were just as many people calling it fake.

When she saw people demanding that Soy Sauce Drunk come out and prove it, Ling Mo only smiled.

A trade was a trade. Buyer and seller both agreed. She hadn’t begged anyone to purchase anything.

As the news showed more and more players appearing, demonstrating all kinds of bizarre talents, Ling Mo’s unease grew.

She had a feeling the next game would start within a day or two.

So she prepared.

First: clothes.

The first time the game dragged her in, she had been in pajamas with no shoes—and she hadn’t even been wearing underwear. That could not happen again.

Second: food.

Ling Mo’s cooking was terrible. Back when she worked, she came home exhausted and lived on takeout. Now she had money, but not much time, and she’d been surviving on ready-made meals she had stocked up earlier.

But with training, she could clearly feel her appetite increasing, and those meals wouldn’t last forever.

She refused to become the kind of person who starved to death while sitting on a mountain of gold. She decided to spend two days learning basic cooking.

That night, she began meditating.

Minutes slipped by. Then more.

Even after the time she’d set for herself, she didn’t stop. She wanted to see if meditation could replace sleep. If it worked, she could spend her sleeping hours training instead.

Just as she sank deeper, a familiar electronic voice rang out beside her ear.

“Dear Blue Star players, hello. First, congratulations on successfully awakening your talents. You did not disappoint this game System. Second, welcome to the second game round: happy farm. Are you ready?”

Ling Mo jolted and snapped her eyes open.

The world around her had changed.

Last time had been a ranch. This time it was a farm. What would be next?

She checked herself first. Thank god—she hadn’t changed into pajamas. She’d sensed this was coming.

And if the second game round had started, that meant every player on Blue Star—whether they awakened successfully or failed—was now awake.

She scanned the crowd. In the first game, everyone’s face had been blurred. Only when two people recognized each other could their features become clear.

This time, that restriction was gone. Every face was sharp and visible.

While others studied the environment or searched for companions, Ling Mo moved fast. She pulled out a mask and covered most of her face, leaving only her dark eyes exposed.

She twisted her long black hair into a neat bun and topped it off with a black baseball cap.

Then the System’s prompt sounded again.

“As a farm that stands alongside liang chen ranch, tak fish farm combines livestock operations with rural tourism. Here, you can enjoy the most traditional countryside life.”

“It is peak tourist season. To prepare for the incoming tourists, tak fish farm urgently requires additional hands. As a friend of tak fish farm’s owner, the farm owner of liang chen ranch has recommended you!”

“Therefore, to live up to both farm owners’ expectations, please work hard over the next three days.”

“Note: Players who fail to complete their work, or attempt to slack off, will lose their qualification to participate.”

Ling Mo looked up at the sign overhead.

After all her studying, she could understand simple interstellar speech and read basic interstellar text.

A familiar gray bird swooped down.

Maybe it was her imagination, but the bird looked rounder than the one she’d seen at liang chen ranch—so plump it seemed like it could drop out of the sky at any moment.

The bird delivered her first quest card.

Pick the newly hatched chicks out of the incubators.

That didn’t sound difficult.

Newborn chicks were fluffy and yellow, ridiculously cute. Compared to adults, they had no threat at all.

Still, after her experience at liang chen ranch, Ling Mo already knew the chickens, ducks, and geese here wouldn’t be normal size.

She didn’t even want to imagine how big they’d be.

Chickens and ducks were fine. The real problem was geese. In the countryside, geese were infamous—kept to guard homes for a reason.

She entered the hatchling room, where incubators stretched out as far as she could see.

Every box chirped nonstop, like they were urging her to hurry up.

A cart rolled up beside her with two crates: one labeled “Qualified,” the other “Unqualified.”

Ling Mo stepped up to the first incubator and froze.

Even though she’d prepared herself, the chicks were still bigger than she expected—larger than the size of chickens on Blue Star that were already ready for slaughter. The ducklings and goslings were worse.

She worked quickly anyway, lifting lively chicks and placing them into the “Qualified” crate. Each time she dropped one in, it vanished—teleported away instantly.

The job was simple, if exhausting. More physical drain than skill.

Then she placed a chick that looked slightly thinner into the “Qualified” crate.

Nothing happened.

Ling Mo frowned, lifted it back out, and checked it carefully. It looked healthy. Why wasn’t it qualified?

If they didn’t want it, she would.

She’d been wondering how to take advantage of the system here. After tasting success once, her motivation skyrocketed. A grown chicken this size could feed her for ages—meat at every meal.

So she sped up.

Every time she found an “Unqualified” hatchling, she didn’t hesitate. She slipped it straight into her pocket space.

The ones that were clearly smaller counted. The listless ones counted too.

Before long, she even started using her mental power—one sweep, and she could tell at a glance whether a chick would be accepted.

When the gray bird returned with a new quest card, Ling Mo finally stopped, wiping sweat from her brow.

Under her mask, her smile was bright.

In one day, she’d collected at least a hundred “Unqualified” hatchlings.

Honestly… she almost didn’t want this job to end.