absurd deduction game.

From the perspective of a working-class person, if he were hit by something like this, he would definitely turn into a pile of minced meat.

If his perception conflicts with the facts, can he withstand being hit?

Yu Xing stared at the decorations that had been shaken off the billboard, her pupils slightly shrinking.

In addition, he now understands why the failure criteria for the mock exam are so lenient, and why it's even possible to rewind "infinitely" until you pass.

When a seasoned divination practitioner enters the "Yin-Yang City," under the influence of the evil god, their strength almost reverts to that of someone who had just become a divination practitioner, making it difficult to exert their full potential—at least that's the case with Qianjie.

Just three minutes after entering the instance, the system threw a curveball at him, and the difficulty of subsequent tasks only increased, making it perfectly normal to die during the process.

His fatigue faded under this stimulation, and then an unrecognizable middle-aged man emerged from the shop behind the billboard. The man was wearing an old-fashioned shirt and shorts, flip-flops, and had a cigarette in his mouth, cursing: "Damn it! I told Ah Xiu I wanted it fixed, but she's been dragging her feet!"

The middle-aged man sized up Yu Xing, and seeing that he was unharmed, he waved his hand like he was shooing away a fly: "What are you looking at me for? I'm warning you, don't try to extort money from me. Hurry up and go, you're a loser too, you're delaying my killing."

Yu Xing, who had initially thought the older man was just a passerby, paused and asked, "Murder?"

“Kill Ah Xiu,” the uncle said with a slight Hong Kong accent, his tone trailing off. He flicked his cigarette ash as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Ah Xiu is such a lazy girl. I have to kill her to get her out of bed. I have to make her mind the shop today. I also have plans to go fishing with some people.”

"Hey kid, don't you dare bother my daughter, or I'll turn you into bait!"

Yu Xing: "..."

That's so weird.

It feels really weird to say weird things in a serious tone.

He noted down the unusual parts the uncle mentioned, but didn't ask any further questions. After all, his main task was to get to the company first, and if he was really late, something bad might happen.

Yu Xing continued running forward.

After this mishap, his ability to respond to people around him improved significantly. He could now clearly hear the voices of passersby. As he ran past, he heard mostly ordinary things, such as the flavors of steamed buns at the breakfast shop, the new products at the comic book store on the corner, and how the middle school thug with blond hair in the neighborhood had been knocked unconscious and taken to a barbershop to have his hair dyed back to black...

The system acted as a narrator, playing intermittently while continuously announcing the broadcast time to Yu Xing.

Yu Xing was quite fast; she arrived at her destination five minutes ahead of time.

He stood at the end of Wenming Street, slightly out of breath, and raised his head.

Before me was a shop that looked like it would exist in the late 1990s. The cement floor in front of the door was white, and several deep and shallow cracks extended from the roller shutter frame.

Traces of posters from previous years remain on the walls on either side of the door frame, with tattered paper corners and rusted thumbtacks still stubbornly embedded there.

The roller shutter door was now completely rolled up, secured with a rusty iron hook, revealing the dark interior of the shop.

A long, rectangular sign hangs horizontally above the entrance, bearing the four large red characters "Maoyan Logistics" on a white background. It uses old-fashioned, three-dimensional plastic lettering, the red paint gleaming with a worn, matte sheen in the sunlight. Rust-colored marks from rainwater run along the edges, winding down the strokes like dried bloodstains. Below the sign, several workers are busy at work.

A middle-aged man in faded blue overalls squatted at the doorway, holding a utility knife in his hand. He skillfully cut open the sealing tape of a corrugated cardboard box. The box was printed with a red warning sign that read "Handle with care" and a blurry image. A small mountain of cardboard boxes had already piled up beside him, some of them open, revealing the contents wrapped in old newspapers.

Another younger worker was unloading goods from a tricycle.

The neatly stacked cardboard boxes in the truck bed were almost overflowing. A yellowish straw hat hung on the handlebars, its brim drooping. He picked up a box with both hands, the veins on his arms bulging slightly. As he turned to walk into the shop, the corner of the box scraped against the door frame, making a dull thud.

The sunlight slanted across the stacks of cardboard boxes, casting uneven shadows on the cement floor that stretched all the way to Yu Xing's feet.

He stood where shadow met the grayish sunlight, his briefcase still tucked under his arm, the back of his white shirt soaked with sweat from running, clinging to his skin and exuding a slight coolness.

This company is different from other shops; he can see every detail clearly, proving that he has indeed memorized the work environment for the role he plays.

The two workers also noticed Yu Xing.

They greeted Yu Xing warmly, the younger one beaming with a relaxed expression.
"You're finally here, warehouse manager! I was almost late! I thought we were going to chop you into mincemeat today."

With the older man's words as a prelude, Yu Xing showed no surprise at all upon hearing this, and greeted them with a normal "Good morning."

The middle-aged worker looked up from his work and said in a somewhat hurried tone, "The big boss just called and said that there were problems with three orders yesterday. He wants you to go out and resolve them. Just leave today's invoices on the container. Ah Guang and I will take care of them ourselves."

The young man was none other than Ah Guang. He sighed with some regret, "The warehouse manager has to go out on fieldwork. I was hoping he'd treat me to the new pastries..."

Yu Xing discerned her main mission from this, calmly walked into the shop, and asked, "Which orders had problems?"

"The big boss said that the problematic orders and today's delivery slips have been sent over via fax."

Stepping over the scattered boxes on the ground, Yu Xing looked around and quickly located her work area before walking forward.

His workstation was partially surrounded by three walls of cardboard boxes, like an isolated island squeezed into a narrow crevice.

The table was an old-fashioned dark brown desk, with a scratched glass plate on top, and underneath it were several yellowed invoices and a blurry ID photo.

A milky-white CRT monitor sits in the upper left corner of the table, its screen black, but the power light is flashing red. Next to it is a dot matrix printer with a faded brand logo printed on the side of its gray-white body. Next to that is a square, iron-gray fax machine, shorter than the printer, with a transparent plastic window on the front through which you can vaguely see the roll of fax paper inside.

A black swivel chair was crookedly wedged inside the table. The artificial leather seat was worn shiny, and several pieces of paint had peeled off the armrests, revealing rusty iron pipes underneath.

He took the order form from the fax machine, quickly glanced at it, and saw no problems with today's invoices; he probably didn't need to worry about them. As for the problematic orders…

[1. Lao Wang, the owner of a clay pot rice restaurant, received cured meat containing human teeth and is demanding compensation.]
[2. Miss Wu from the tailor shop lost her goods; help her find them.]
[3. Ms. Wang Meimei's paints at Meimei Gallery have been missing from the delivery. Please verify the situation.] (End of Chapter)