That didn't really make sense. A substory wasn't supposed to close, right?
From what Ah'Ming knew, they were permanent. Just like the instance. Though the instances were always cleared, they always refreshed for a new round of players. The storyline and characters would change, so that there would still be some challenges, but they didn't just close out of nowhere.
"Why did the substory close?" He tried asking
A bottle of booze was waived through the air.
"Dunno man!" Another person chimed in. "Me thinks the place was haunted or something."
THe others laughed like the guy made a funny joke. Ah'Ming didn't get it at first, until he saw that some of the group's fingers were slightly see through. Ah.
They were ghosts.
made sense why they thought a haunting would be funny, at least.
"No, but really, why was it closed?"
a person shrugged.
"Probably that the original inhabitants of this instance weren't too happy about the system using it as entertainment." He said.
It was a great explanation, but Ah'Ming needed a lot more clarification.
"What do you mean? How are instances bought and traded like that?" He asked.
The man's face tightened a little bit, like someone who had been asked to do or say something unpleasant. "Well, you know how there are hundreds of worlds out there? millions even?" Upon seeing Ah'Ming nod, he continued. "Sometimes there's a lot of energy. It can be emotional energy, cultivation or something else. That energy warps, and often makes little pocket-like dimensions."
Ah'Ming nodded. "the instances?"
"Bingo. So, everything inside that pocket dimension is kind of trapped. It'll go on loop, until the core of the instance is solved. The system profits either way. When players clear the instance, the left-over energy is absorbed by the system."
"And when it's not cleared, the system, what, earns commissions from the audience?" Ah'Ming asked.
The man seemed pretty happy to have some relatively intellectual company. Goodness knows that his friends... were not the brightest sort. Ah'Ming felt rather bad for him, but maybe his friends were smarter when they were sober?
"Sort of? What do you mean by audience? like, us?" The man questioned.
"Sorry, yep. That's what I meant. I'm just too used to watching the streamers refer to uh, us, like that." Ah'Ming lied.
He felt a little bit guilty for lying, but how would all of these NPCs react knowing they were chatting with a player?
"Oh, you watch the streams? Damn, you must have a lot of power." His gaze turned slightly envious. Maybe only rich NPCs watched the streams. How else would Ah'Ming have gotten the absurd skill of wishing people well?
Ah'Ming dropped the subject. They started chatting about what the group's next 'commision' was.
Loads of voices were clamoring on top of each other, all wanting to impress the guy with cool hair. Apparently, the substory they were contracted for was shut down due to a lack of personnel. Nobody knew where the NPC workers had gone, nor did they care much. It was a danger that came with the job, they said.
Sometimes, the roles that they played were still haunted by the originals.
Though the energy pocket dimensions were by large static, they did change sometimes. Mutations occurred, especially when an unaware key character became aware, or if there was just a massive influx of energy.
"Yeah, yeah. So we're gonna be some random construction grunts for a main story sidequest!"
Main story?
"Oh, do you guys know the main story of the resort?" He asked them.
It couldn't be that easy, surely.
"Sorry man, we can't tell you stuff 'cause of the contract. Maybe once we're outta here?" A guy laughed.
"Come on," He wheedled. "Just a clue?"
They looked at each other, and shrugged. "I think the most we can say is that it's a classic rich versus poor thing? Yeah, that's it. I got another system warning!" Someone cried in outrage.
Their conversation was interrupted by the waitress coming back. She held a small dish of random appetisers, it was full of not only deep fried snacks, but also normal ones like JiZhua and Latiao. He looked up at her.
"Sorry, since your order was so large, it's going to take a while. Here are some free appetizers to start with?"
Eeny meenie miny mo
Ah'Ming nodded, and popped a Jizhua into his mouth. Mmm. Boneless. Spicy, but also slightly sour. Very Mala. He raised both thumbs up.
The waitress relaxed. For what, he couldn't discern why.
THe plate was large, and though Ah'Ming could finish it himself, he found himself sharing it with the ghosts next to him. Within moments, the plate was nearly empty. The only thing Ah'Ming hadn't shared was his Ice Lemon Tea, and he wouldn't share it for the world.
Some made grabby hands for it, but he just smacked them away.
"Dude, how much did you get?" One of them, Mohawk, asked.
Ah'Ming shrugged once more. "Not sure, just gave them a budget and let them run wild."
THey got even more confused.
"How much money to make 'em that nice to you?!"
Ah'Ming considered this. Should he tell them? If he did, then maybe he'd at least be able to find out what the worth of a dollar was here.
"Not much. $300."
That was fine, since his current account was in the thousands. Money shouldn't be worth that much if he was getting several hundred per substory.
The whole ghost table went dead silent. Get it? Since they're ghosts? Anyways. Someone choked out "th- three hundred?"
Ah'Ming blinked at them.
"What, like it's much?"
Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and throttled him.
"$300 could buy us a whole round of food! Us!" He gestured wildly to the whole group of about thirteen people.
Huh.
Is that like, five hundred? Maybe more?
Ah'Ming got distracted by a heavenly smell.
Fresh and spicy and... That was his hotpot!
He grabbed chopsticks, and smiled happily at the waitress, ignoring the expressions of sheer shock and disbelief from the ghost gang.
The waitress was carrying a massive tub of bubbling soup, which she set into the indent of the table.
She was strong, Ah'Ming noticed. Her forearms were well defined. It seemed even mundane jobs like waitresses had terrifying combat ability. Behind her were two other waiters, all wheeling in whole tray-shelve-carts with them.
It was a surprising amount of food.
the waitress coughed, bringing Ah'Ming's attention back to her.
"So," She read off her clipboard. "You ordered... five kilograms of beef, three of lamb, and another of a seafood platter."
He had plates of cabbage, QingGua, XiaHua, KuanFen. He had noodles and mushrooms and everything he could want.
Quail eggs, tofu puffs, slices of lotus root, naruto fishcake...
Wow.
There was... A lot.
The waitress had even been as kind as to bring him dipping sauces. There were five little bowls of sauce. One was soy sauce, with chopped garlic and spring onion. One was vinegar, with chili and coriander. For the seafood, the waitress explained. There was sesame sauce, with extra greens on top. He couldn't tell what the other two were, but they smelt delicious.
Not only was his olfactory sense blessed, so was his sense of hearing. The soup bubbled away, and it made crackling pops every so often.
The waitress also brought over a side dish of pickled vegetables and light salads.
Ah'Ming dug right in.
He dumped a bunch of stuff into the pot at once, eating like a champ.
He shoved buckets of meat and fish into his mouth, all of it disappearing into the expanse that was his stomach.
The ghost gang watched in awe as somehow, kilograms upon kilograms of food all descended into Ah'Ming's gullet. One leaned in close to look at his abdominal region, poking it in shock.
"Where... where is it all going?" He asked, bewildered.
Ah'Ming's stomach hadn't distended at all.
Once he was out of meat, he went on to eat the noodles.
When the noodles were gone, he ate the vegetables.
Before long, the entire table was barren.
Ah'Ming looked up. He'd zoned out by accident because of how good the food was. He was met with a bunch of cameras flashed at his face. Loads of people, NPCs-- he had to remind himself, were filming him with iPhones.
An older man walked up to him.
"Young man, are you a vlogger? An influencer? Can I get an autograph for my daughter?"
Ah'Ming gulped, wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"Um, I'm not... I'm not an influencer?"
He was still pressured into signing napkins, though. The boss of the place even hung one up. Apparently, though there were countless monster and even werewolf type NPCs, no one had ever been able to eat as much as Ah'Ming had. A couple dozen kilos, all gone like that.
Especially considering he'd picked their spiciest base.
He exchanged numbers (well, they gave him their numbers) with the ghost gang, and then paid for the meal. Though he'd originally given a budget of $300, he felt like the service had far exceeded the money.
He tried to pay $800, only going down to 600 when the boss refused without end.
When he exited the shop, the system greeted him with a panel.
|Reward achieved; Glutton
|Eat more than 25 Kg in one sitting
Ah'Ming closed the panel.