Chapter 114: The Old Smoker’s Jungle!

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When the receptionist saw them, she thought to herself, “Sister Xu was absolutely right. Little Zhi is completely consumed, and I have to find a way to pull her out of this sea of suffering. Hmm, I should introduce her to someone.”
So she said to Little Zhi, “Zhi-zi, do you want to go out for dinner tonight? I’ll treat you.”

“Hmm?” Little Zhi snapped out of her collapse. “Really?”

The receptionist nodded, and Little Zhi immediately threw herself at her, rubbing against her in affection. “You are so kind to me. I love you.”

What she did not know was that the receptionist had already run through more possible suitors than there are heroes of Mount Liang in her mind and was already wearing a smile of victory.

...

After Wang Chen left the Class Transfer Temple, he planned to go eat with Long Wushuang and give him the Hunter’s Wind Bow as well.
He was a life shaman; even carrying a Flame Python Blade was odd enough, not to mention strapping on a bow too.
Besides, since Long Wushuang had given him Forest Mistral, it was only natural for him to return a Hunter’s Wind Bow in kind.

Just then the system ping sounded:
[Limited-time quest: Reach level thirty within twenty-four hours.]
[Quest reward: 20,000 lottery points.]

Wang Chen sighed. He was truly born with a life of drudgery. He had just decided to take one day off, and this is when a timed quest appeared.

In spite of himself, Wang Chen booked a lightning delivery to send the Hunter’s Wind Bow to Long Wushuang, then made a stop at the Zhongzhi Exchange Hall to get himself a platinum-tier dungeon pass.
The pass cost him several hundred thousand, but he still felt it was worth it; if he ran ordinary public dungeons and cleared those low-level monsters, he’d probably wear himself out and barely gain a few levels.

With the ticket tucked in storage space, Wang Chen headed for the teleport array.

...

At the foot of Wang Chen’s building, a youth with toad-like sunglasses squatted by the roadside. He smoked one cigarette after another, and a small pile of butts had already gathered at his feet.

“Staying out all night is one thing. I can understand a young person dancing till dawn, but it’s nearly ten o’clock—shouldn’t he be home catching up on sleep?” he muttered bitterly.

A mother and her daughter passed by, the woman carrying a bag of soy milk and fried dough sticks.
The little girl studied the youth with curiosity and said to her mother, “Mom, this uncle has such huge dark circles under his eyes.”

Hearing that, the youth snapped, took off his glasses and barked, “These are sunglasses! Cool, fashionable! You understand what that means, kid?”

His voice was loud enough to startle her; she shrank back.

The mother pulled the frightened child to the other side. “Why so threatening? And fashionable! No matter how fashionable you are, you still can’t hide those two dark circles!” she said, then walked off with her daughter.

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He watched them leave.

The youth was bewildered. “Do I really have dark circles?”

He took out his phone and opened the front camera. “Ah, damn! I actually do have them!” he said furiously.

“It’s all that Wang guy’s fault for making me squat out here all night! Damn it—when he gets back, I’m teaching him some proper manners. Boys your age shouldn’t be running wild at this hour!”

Suddenly he sensed someone behind him. He turned, and a woman in a sanitation worker’s vest stood staring at him.

“Son, about that—”

“I know, I know. My dark circles are bad, thanks for pointing that out,” he said helplessly.

The woman shrugged. “Who asked you to say it? You’re dropping cigarette butts everywhere. Fine: three hundred.”

He blinked, his face dropping into a bitter-melon expression. “Can’t you give me a discount?”

She gave him a hard stare and said nothing.
“Fine, I’ll give it to you. I’ll add two hundred, I’ll smoke a little more.” He pulled out some bills and handed them over.
A professional adventurer, a few hundred coins meant little to him, yet he still felt miserable. This rotten place is so run-down, and they still won’t even let people litter cigarette butts. Unbelievable.

The woman took the money and lifted her broom as if to leave, then, after a small pause, sighed and said, “Son, show some restraint. Don’t spend your health just because your body feels strong. Look at those two dark circles.”

She walked away without waiting for his response.

“Unbelievable. It’s as if everything’s at war with my dark circles!” the youth sighed, standing there in misery, staring toward the alley entrance. “Wang Chen, why aren’t you coming back yet?”

...

Wang Chen sneezed as he stepped out of the teleport array.
He rubbed his nose. “Could this be because my immunity dropped from running around these days?”
“Still, there’s no choice—everything for getting into a good university.”

He surveyed the place around him.
The dungeon was called Old Smoker’s Jungle, and true to its name it was a vast sea of dense undergrowth, with a hazy mist of smoke drifting through the trees.
Wang Chen had chosen it because his newly awakened skills could be strengthened there, making monster hunting far more efficient.

After learning what kind of environment awaited him, he had gone out beforehand and bought exploration clothes: a long robe, long trousers, and high boots, to keep strange creatures from clinging to his skin.

Prepared, he pushed into the jungle.

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Just after entering from the teleport array, there were still paths left by other adventurers, and the deeper he went, the less stable his footing became and the more humid the air grew.

Wang Chen held a normal clearing axe he had bought and hacked through the vegetation that blocked him, then stepped over snapped branches.

But this jungle was so overgrown. Even a hardened adventurer would be near tears. His shoulders were already aching from cutting, and he had not seen a single dangerous beast yet, so he began to wonder if choosing this dungeon had been the right call.

Suddenly, Wang Chen felt as if something were moving on him.
He stopped and searched about, pinching a soft, slippery thing in his fingers. He held it up: a black leech, thumb-thick and finger-long.

A violet gleam flashed in Wang Chen’s eyes as the creature’s information appeared in his mind:
[Jungle Leech, Level 5]

The leech writhed its greasy body, trying to burrow into his palm and feed on blood.
Wang Chen hurled it to the ground and chopped with his axe, splitting it in half.
Even then both halves kept wriggling, so he minced it into small bits.

At last a prompt rang out:
[Success: Jungle Leech defeated. Experience gained: 100]

He was speechless. After all that trouble, only this little experience?
“This is a platinum dungeon. Why is it so lousy?” Wang Chen wondered whether Manager Liu had sold him counterfeit goods, though the ward at the entrance was obviously real.

“Wait,” he suddenly realized. “How many of these leeches are there?”

A strange cyan radiance flickered in Wang Chen’s eyes. His head throbbed, and many targets for plunder flared into visibility at once.
He had five on him already.

He immediately jumped in place and shook himself, making every tiny crawling creature drop off.

Only after confirming that none remained in his vision link did he stop the frantic shaking.
As he looked at the leeches writhing on the ground, his skin prickled with goosebumps.

He drew out Forest Mistral and shouted, “All of you—die!”