Chapter Eight: The Role of the System Mall

Ants are afraid of water. Although they can rely on the tiny hairs on their legs and the surface tension of water to maintain balance, they cannot swim. The moment their legs move, the delicate equilibrium breaks, and the ant sinks beneath the surface.

Upon reaching the lake, Li Yunfei jumped off his bicycle, casually tossing it to the ground beside the water, then leapt straight toward the lake himself. The little fox was even quicker, diving into the water ahead of him. Foxes, being members of the canine family, are adept swimmers; fish are a staple in their diet.

As he soared through the air, Li Yunfei made a quick decision—he stowed his clothes, shoes, gloves, and the recently acquired ant armor helmet into the system inventory. Bare-skinned, he plunged into the lake.

Entering the water not only allowed him to evade the pursuing swarm of ants but also washed away the pheromone clinging to his body, making it impossible for the ants to track him. It was, in every sense, a double benefit.

His clothes likely still carried traces of the pheromone; once he put them on again, he could lure the ants out of their nest and continue to nibble away at their numbers bit by bit.

When the swarm reached the lake’s edge, they hesitated, pacing the shore but not daring to enter the water. The pheromone’s effect was fleeting; once its scent faded, the ants would lose their target and return to their nest.

As expected, after circling the lake’s edge for a while without finding a trace of their quarry, the ants retraced their steps and disappeared.

Li Yunfei lay at the center of the lake, his face above water to breathe, hands gently paddling beneath the surface to keep himself afloat. The little fox rested atop his chest, its own head poking above the water. With the ants’ limited vision, there was no chance they could spot the pair.

Once the swarm departed, Li Yunfei and the fox swam toward the shore. After climbing out, Li Yunfei took out a towel to dry himself, then summoned his clothes with a thought—the system made dressing and undressing remarkably convenient.

He used another dry towel to clean the little fox, then carried her to a massive evergreen leaf nearby and sat down.

He opened his character attribute panel; his level had increased to two, the experience bar reset. A plus symbol appeared beside his four main attributes, and a number—five—emerged at the top.

These were the attribute points awarded by the system upon leveling up.

As a young man, Li Yunfei was no stranger to computer games and was well-versed in the art of allocating points. The worst mistake was spreading them evenly; while this fostered balanced growth without weaknesses, it also meant no real strengths. Especially early on, one must emphasize a particular attribute or two to maximize combat effectiveness.

Currently, his highest attribute was constitution, which determined stamina, cellular activity, and immunity.

Stamina governed how long he could sustain combat.

Cellular activity dictated the speed of cell division, essentially how fast injuries healed.

Immunity determined resistance to harmful substances.

His constitution was 1.5 times that of a normal person, sufficient for the time being, so he felt no need to add points there.

Mental energy determined his stress resistance and how long he could maintain alertness.

When the mind was under intense concentration for prolonged periods, mental energy was consumed rapidly. Once released from that state, exhaustion set in—a fatigue that only sleep could remedy.

Mental fatigue was tougher to overcome than physical fatigue, requiring sheer willpower.

But boosting mental energy was less useful in the early stages, since level-ups came quickly enough to restore his state before exhaustion set in.

For now, what directly enhanced Li Yunfei’s combat power were strength and agility.

Strength determined his damage output, agility his ability to dodge and his speed.

Thus, Li Yunfei allocated three points to strength and two to agility.

His four attributes now read: Strength 17 (10), Agility 14 (8), Constitution 15 (10), Mental Energy 10 (7).

He felt his muscles subtly tremble—a sign that the system was reinforcing his physique.

After distributing the points, Li Yunfei switched to the skills panel, but nothing happened. No skill points appeared, nor any skills.

It seemed the God of Slaughter System’s skill framework differed from those in games; only time would reveal its workings.

He checked the pet panel—the little fox had no four attributes, and apart from its level rising to two, nothing seemed to have changed.

But Li Yunfei was sure there must be some difference. A single level-up wouldn’t show much on the surface.

Having finished his inspection, he mentally retrieved two kukri knives from the system inventory and dragged them into the repair section of the system shop.

The repair costs appeared instantly: one required 38 yuan, the other just 25.

The more expensive one was the knife he wielded with his right hand—used more frequently, it naturally suffered greater wear.

After system repair, both knives were restored to pristine condition, their damage output maximized once again.

Noticing the empty system shop, Li Yunfei decided to experiment—he placed a kukri knife in the sell section.

The price displayed below: 500 yuan.

He frowned. He had purchased this knife for 1,400 yuan, yet selling it only netted 500. Did the system deem it only worth 500 yuan? Had his friend cheated him?

After some thought, Li Yunfei mentally tapped “sell.”

The kukri knife appeared in the first empty slot of the shop, and when Li Yunfei saw the sale price below, his expression soured as though he’d swallowed a fly.

Damn it, the sale price was actually 1,400 yuan.

Now he understood—the knife’s market price was indeed 1,400 yuan; his friend hadn’t cheated him. But its manufacturing cost was only 500 yuan.

The system purchased items at cost price but sold them at market price—a shameless rip-off.

There was nothing he could do; this was just an experiment, and he’d need the knife for upcoming battles, so he bought it back.

With a tap, the kukri knife reappeared in his inventory.

With just this transfer, he lost 900 yuan outright.

Yet, the next moment, Li Yunfei felt the loss was worthwhile, for he had discovered the system shop’s true function.

After buying back the knife, the shop still displayed the same kukri knife in the slot—it hadn’t vanished.

He tested it mentally—he could buy again.

Li Yunfei understood.

The system shop’s inventory depended entirely on what he had previously sold. Once he sold an item, it would remain in the shop forever, allowing unlimited purchases so long as he had the money.

The system only gouged him once, but this feature could be a lifesaver at a crucial moment.

So, the 900 yuan was well spent.

Resting atop the leaf for about half an hour and fiddling with the system, Li Yunfei finally stood and said to the little fox, “Let’s go, Honghong. Let’s continue.”

“Yip!”

Honghong responded, leaping back onto Li Yunfei’s shoulder.

Li Yunfei mounted his bicycle and rode back the way he came.

It was rather remarkable—along this route, there should have been several ant nests beneath the flowerbeds.

Yet aside from the nest he’d been grinding, the others showed no activity.

This was likely the system’s doing: when he entered a particular instance, nearby ones would be automatically suppressed, preventing other monsters from interfering.

A sensible arrangement.