Chapter 194: [Gold Medal Salesperson] Recovering Memories
“Find two people to keep an eye on him. The rest of you, follow me inside to inspect the room.”
As “Li Yun” spoke, she pushed open the door closest to them.
The room was completely bare, containing nothing aside from a desk and a chair.
“What is there to see here?” The group looked on, feeling somewhat confused.
“Li Yun” pondered for a moment before replying, “I’m just wondering whether this place might have something to do with our memories.”
The group froze.
“Li Yun” casually voiced a portion of her earlier deductions—about the reality of this world, as well as the game that had dispatched them here.
“Just now, he mentioned that it’s always ten recruits every time, indicating a fixed structure for each run. Since this place possesses the means to hire ghosts who suffered sudden death, there must be something special hidden here—perhaps directly connected to our memories.”
[Holy crap, it’s only the second day! She’s so smart, managing to deduce all this even without her memories!]
[Is this why she didn’t sleep at all last night?]
[Waaah, but she’s so terrifying without her memories! Will my cute, pretty little streamer return once she recovers her memory?]
[Are there any viewers who’ve watched this instance before who can tell us: are the memories actually inside these rooms?]
[Yep, they really are…]
[Holy shit, doesn’t that mean she cleared it right here and now?!]
[This instance wasn’t very difficult to begin with—the main hurdle was the soul-crushing work itself.]
[Then what was up with all those weird encounters the streamer ran into?]
[Ah… how would I know? She’s just unlucky, I guess. I’ve watched this instance two or three times before, and she’s the only one who ever managed a 100% complaint rate.]
“Li Yun” conducted a meticulous search in every corner of the room.
It was indeed spotlessly clean.
Yet her intuition insisted… it ought to be here—at the very least, these rooms possessed a unique property.
What was the source of that uniqueness, then?
Her gaze swept across the room once more, halting on the doorframe.
The door was constructed of stainless steel, featuring a small stainless-steel window frame above it without glass, giving it an appearance akin to a prison cell.
Someone had shut the door earlier, driving the ghosts outside into even fiercer howls.
Noticing the direction of her gaze, someone looked toward the doorframe as well. After a quick moment of thought, they stepped forward and began tapping and inspecting it thoroughly.
Without knowing who had triggered what mechanism, a single microchip suddenly fell from the doorframe.
“There really is something hidden here?”
The group immediately turned their gazes toward the remaining rooms, diligently searching the doorframe of every single room.
In the end, everyone discovered a hidden mechanism embedded above each doorframe—when closed, it showed zero outward abnormality.
Once opened, a microchip would tumble down.
The moment all ten chips were gathered, the corridor lights abruptly went dark.
The group, who had been rejoicing just seconds prior, was plunged into instant panic.
In the pitch-black darkness, the temperature seemed to plunge rapidly.
“Run!”
Without knowing who shouted it, the group began sprinting toward the elevator.
The elevator was stationed on an upper floor, however, requiring time to descend.
“Fuck! You, surname Li! Where are the stairs?!” Someone grabbed Li Dao-peng by the collar, hauling him up.
“Li Yun” pulled out her phone, switching on the flashlight to illuminate the area.
Dozens of figures materialized within the corridor.
Their faces were blackened, eyes bulging, expressions twisted in manic hyperactivation—”Li Yun’s” flashlight beam illuminated their faces with far too much clarity.
Several people let out sound-shattering screams on the spot.
Li Dao-peng was petrified with terror as well.
He was no fool—he could sense that these ghosts were no longer obeying his commands.
“Turn left, turn left! There’s a fire escape to the left!” He stammered frantically, attempting to bolt.
“Li Yun” grabbed him by the collar with a firm grip, tossing him straight to the very back of the group.
The ghosts behind them were already lunging forward at blistering speeds.
“I’m going to file a complaint!”
“Complaint!”
Monotonous chants continued to spill from their mouths.
While running, “Li Yun” examined the chips in her hand.
How were these chips supposed to be used?
Inserted directly into the brain?
Casual as ever, she grabbed a chip and pressed it against the top of her head.
[Read failed.]
A mechanical prompt chimed in.
“Li Yun”: “?”
Are you serious?
[Seeing the dazed look on the streamer’s face puts my mind at ease! I actually thought she could even figure out inserting chips into her head!]
[Absurd! What normal person would ever think of pressing a chip against their head?!]
[Damn game, I’d definitely be done for if I entered!]
[Safe to say this instance isn’t particularly dangerous.]
[Honestly, it’d almost be better if it were a bit higher in difficulty…]
“Li Yun” had tried several more chips, but every single chip in her hand returned a failed read result.
“Who wants to swap chips with me? Hurry! Try pressing them against your heads!”
“Li Yun” held zero intention of hoarding the discovery.
Someone immediately picked up a chip with doubtful hesitation, placing it against their head.
[Read successful.]
[Congratulations, you have successfully recovered your memory.]
That person froze briefly, a momentary flicker of daze flashing across their eyes before resolving into deep complexity.
He couldn’t help casting a look at “Li Yun.”
“I found my memory. This method works.”
Though it was absurd beyond belief.
The surrounding players set about testing the chips one by one as well.
The player who was the first to regain his memory had already thrown out an item card, erecting a barrier to block the swarming ghosts behind them.
As the remaining group successfully read their chips one after another, a single chip was left behind.
“Li Yun” took it, feeling that her luck was truly atrocious.
Despite being the very first to discover the solution, she ended up being the last to find her own chip.
She pressed the chip against her forehead.
[Read successful.]
The memories that didn’t belong to her began fading away as her original memories flooded back into place.
Everything transpired with lightning swiftness.
A similar look of complex emotion surfaced across Bai Cha’s face as well.
For no other reason than the fact that her memory-lacking self seemed to have executed a few rather unhuman antics earlier.
Felt pretty awkward, honestly.
[You have successfully recovered your memories. Would you like to leave the game now, or continue working?]
Bai Cha cast a thoughtful glance down at Li Dao-peng, who lay slumped limply on the floor.
“Are you guys leaving right now?” Bai Cha looked toward the rest of the group.
“You’re not leaving?” The group caught her underlying meaning.
“Leaving just like this—wouldn’t that be far too generous to him? Today’s only the second day.”
Bai Cha pointed at Li Dao-peng.
Everyone turned their gazes toward Li Dao-peng in unison.
Li Dao-peng looked back at them in absolute terror.
Twenty minutes later, ten players sat inside the conference room, surrounding Li Dao-peng in the middle.
A computer was positioned directly before Li Dao-peng.
“What are you standing there frozen for? As the boss, don’t tell me you don’t know what your employees’ line of work is! Hurry up and reply to the messages—the customer is already pressing for an answer!”
“Meng Bian” slammed a hand on the desk.
Though everyone had recovered their memories, no one exchanged real names.
They shared a remarkably tacit understanding regardless.
Li Dao-peng began handling after-sales inquiries in utter humiliation.
The account belonged to Bai Cha; she held absolute confidence in herself—she definitely wouldn’t lack bizarre, difficult customers.
“You can’t do this! I didn’t do it on purpose, and I really did it for your own good! Didn’t you all claim you were facing financial hardships? Bowing down to life is completely normal, right? You weren’t doing it for me anyway!”
“You’re right.”
“Wang Chen-guang” nodded. “A person always has to bow down to life, but not to a dumbass boss like you.”
“Wang Lei” chimed in, “You did it all for our own good, so wouldn’t it be terribly embarrassing if we didn’t return the favor? Don’t stand there dazed—get to work! We’re teaching you how to quickly integrate with your employees, understand your staff’s working conditions, and gain a deeper understanding of your own company’s development!”
“Don’t stand there frozen, hurry up and reply to the messages—look, the customer’s message is already pressing you!”
