Chapter 41: The Pitch-Black Unlucky Guy

Yun Qimu, who was a step slower than everyone else, didn’t rush out of the village to search blindly the moment she stepped outside like the others did. Instead, she stayed where she was—haggling.

“E-rank: 20 spirit coins. D-rank: 25. C-rank: 30. B-rank: 45. A-rank: 60. S-rank: 80. SS-rank: 100. Deal?”

The main AI—legs crossed, happily waiting for its energy source to keep rising—immediately jumped up, rolled up its nonexistent sleeves, squared off, and countered:

[E-rank: 5 spirit coins. D-rank: 15. C-rank: 20. B-rank: 25. A-rank: 45. S-rank: 65. SS-rank: 75.]

Yun Qimu’s elegant, misty brows knitted slightly. Her cheeks, now carrying a bit more color, looked solemn.

“E-rank: 19. D-rank: 24. C-rank: 29. B-rank: 44. A-rank: 59. S-rank: 79. SS-rank: 99.”

The main AI’s matchstick head flared with anger. What a joke—she’d only shaved off one coin! Truly worthy of being the host: stingy with absolute conviction.

But the main AI had “tools” now. The main AI wasn’t afraid anymore.

Thinking of that, it conjured one long matchstick and two short ones into a bench, lazily leapt onto it, and sprawled out. With an arrogant hmph, it said:

[If you don’t accept my prices, that’s fine. There are plenty of people collecting bodies now. I won’t miss you.]

Yun Qimu fell silent, expression flat. This trash main AI was getting harder and harder to deal with.

But when spirit coins were on the line, she refused to back down.

“Go with my prices. In fifteen days, I can double Earth Village’s population and unlock one more building. Otherwise, as village chief, I’ll start slacking off on purpose. Earth Village is living pretty well right now anyway—I’m not in a rush to expand.”

Main AI: … It was in a rush!!!

The little matchstick man rolled off the bench and started pounding the ground, hating how the host just raised prices without blinking.

But for the bright future development of Earth Village, it could only compromise through tears.

“Fine. Deal.”

Yun Qimu curled her lips in satisfaction. “Good.”

Then, who knew where she pulled it from, she produced a big white loudspeaker and started shouting:

“Everyone, quiet down—quiet down and listen to me! I’m personally buying corpses. E-rank: 6 spirit coins. D-rank: 16. C-rank: 21. B-rank: 26. A-rank: 46. S-rank: 66. SS-rank: 76. If you want to trade, pile the bodies you find into a stack, then raise your hand to signal me—I’ll come over to trade.”

“Huh, that’s one spirit coin more than the system price.”

“Let’s do it!”

Everyone immediately responded, shouting happily.

Pei Yu’s hands trembled; his peach-blossom eyes went wide.

One corpse meant one extra spirit coin. Two corpses meant two extra. If he found a thousand—ten thousand—wouldn’t that mean an extra thousand, ten thousand spirit coins?!

He’d come here to wait for death, so he hadn’t brought many energy coins. Even buying a bottle of red medicine made him penny-pinch like a broke loser. Now, Pei Yu was practically overjoyed.

So he decisively cut off the trade he was in the middle of doing with the system.

Then, quick as lightning, he pulled a wooden sign from his storage slot and, in bold flourishing strokes, wrote:

“This area belongs to Pei Yu — Temporary Corpse Storage Site.”

He jabbed the sign into the ground. That was his territory.

Hahaha… picking up bodies, picking up bodies—he was going to get rich!

Pei Yu laughed like a madman and sprinted off.

Yun Xiaoyu’s little brows twisted into caterpillars; his small face scrunched up.

How did Dumb Mu do it? Why couldn’t he haggle?

Sigh!

Even a six-year-old boy worried today about not being able to sell for more spirit coins!

“General, General—selling corpses to the village chief earns one extra spirit coin! Let’s hurry and go find them!” Little Zhuzhu was anxious. While chewing sweet danmu fruit to replenish energy, she pumped her short legs as fast as she could. For the money—charge!

“Charge!” Yun Xiaoyu clenched his tiny fists too, full of fighting spirit. His worries vanished.

Even Mo Xie’s cool, indifferent face couldn’t help but curve slightly at the corners of his mouth. And as for the Tang father and son—so poor they were about to pawn their pants—plus the natives, they all followed suit. Each of them stuck a sign into the ground to claim a spot, then bolted like mad, determined to become the MVP of corpse-picking.

In this sea of joy, only the main AI let out a wail—so furious it practically spat blood into a waterfall.

That damned host was becoming more and more damned. All its energy… was destined to be wasted on her!

Yun Qimu sensed trouble and hurried to placate it. “Calm down, calm down—sometimes you have to give to get. I told you before: the blood you shed today will come back several times, several hundred times over. Once I help you increase Earth Village’s population, are you still going to worry about a few spirit coins?!

Banks will come. Auction houses will come. Energy will come—lots of it…”

[Will it really?]

“Really.”

In the end, after Yun Qimu’s “kind” comforting, her thin-air grand promises, and her setting a punishment for herself if she failed the mission, the main AI finally reached a tearful reconciliation with her. Their plastic partnership survived without collapsing on the spot.

With “tool people” doing the labor and a decent margin in the middle, Yun Qimu couldn’t be bothered to run all over the place collecting bodies herself. She simply conjured up a chair, sat down, and munched on a cucumber to fill her stomach.

That leisurely, spectator attitude made the main AI simmer—especially when this woman even sighed, “If only I had a lounge chair, it’d be even better.”

The main AI snapped. The little matchstick avatar went pop and disappeared.

It chose “out of sight, out of mind” through action.

Pei Yu, meanwhile, stole glances over while busy, his peach-blossom eyes filled with envy, jealousy, and hate.

Waaah… he wanted to sit comfortably and eat too, but… he had no money.

A truly sad reality.

“Aiyo!” Pei Yu, too absorbed in sneaking looks, accidentally ran into a corner pile. Something caught his foot and he fell flat, face-first like a dog eating dirt.

“Pah! Pah pah pah…” He scrambled up with a grief-stricken face, cursing angrily. “What kind of thing dares trip this young master? Don’t you know this face of mine is worth tens of millions and captivates countless noble ladies? What if it got wrecked?!”

He pulled out a small mirror from his clothes and checked nervously. Seeing no real injuries—just some mud—he finally let out a breath.

He quickly took out a handkerchief and wiped himself clean. Once his handsome image was restored, Pei Yu finally had the time to turn around and see what had tripped him.

And wow—no wonder he’d tripped. It wasn’t some frenzied beast corpse…

It was a pitch-black unlucky guy.

The unlucky guy was a man lying on his side, wearing black combat gear. The material looked comparable to what his cousin wore—except now it was completely trashed.

Several gashes had been cut across his back by some sharp weapon. He’d rolled in filthy black mud, mixing it with mottled blood until he looked like a pitch-black mud man.

Even the half of his face that showed was smeared with mud. All Pei Yu could make out were his ridiculously long eyelashes, clumped with dirt, trembling in the wind.