Along the journey, Justin provided Eric with a concise introduction to the Mingyang Mutual Aid Society, granting her a preliminary understanding of the organization. Said to have been founded by a married couple and handed down through countless generations, the society endured amidst the rapid turnover of personnel in the transfer station—many present one day vanished the next.
"I've lost count of which generation I am now," Justin remarked. "But the chairman before me lasted four years within the game. I sense a connection between you and Mingyang, so I'd like to invite you to lunch to introduce the society. Should you find it agreeable, you would be most welcome to join."
Also invited was the player Sarah.
The opulence of the presidential suite dazzled Eric, leaving Sarah equally impressed. The society's affluence inspired confidence. Setting aside her cutlery, Sarah noted that the society generously provided ingredients for five guests; Justin personally prepared three sumptuous steaks.
She inquired, "Joining means accommodation in this suite?"
Justin nodded. "Certainly—you'll share this residence. The suite is capped at five occupants, comprising four bedrooms, two furnished with double beds, each paired with a private bath and restroom. Currently, I am the sole resident. As for rent, you need not worry—for the previous chairman, before his resurrection, bequeathed all remaining points beyond the resurrection fee to the society. This room is secured for at least another year and four months."
Sarah appeared pleased.
Provided board and lodging were rare privileges within mutual aid societies.
She probed further, "What of the membership fee?"
"Mingyang's entrance fee is modest—just one spectral healing pack per month. Post-enrollment, your essential duty will be to accurately document every dungeon's details. This intangible record is a treasured legacy for those who follow."
Eric evaluated the offer: one healing pack monthly was affordable; her own single room subscription alone cost thirty points a month.
Most importantly, she would gain access to an extensive database of dungeon information, broadening her horizons.
Previously unaware of item mechanics, she had rebuffed Natalie's women's mutual aid invitations and avoided teaming with others. Yet after conquering the Best Employee dungeon, she realized vast improvements awaited her; solitary endeavors, while alluring in their freedom, hampered growth.
Items could offer crucial protection; she would consult Justin about them later, crafting plausible justifications to safely exploit supermarket resources.
This prospect stirred her interest.
"Beyond accommodation and meals, does Mingyang have advantages in dungeon intelligence?" Sarah asked.
"Our society not only boasts low fees and full board, but also possesses a vast treasury of passed-down dungeon data," Justin explained. "I wasn't joking about Mingyang's longevity. The accumulated information is enormous. In the realm of guilds, our dungeon library ranks among the foremost. The game's dungeons are countless; even if you never encounter those in our records, you will gain invaluable wisdom born of experience."
Seeing is believing; Justin casually produced a notebook and flicked it open to reveal:
"This is our recent Best Employee dungeon."
At this, Eric and Sarah sat up straighter.
"See here."
They leaned in, peering at several pages chronicling the Best Employee dungeon's details!
Eric recognized her own task delivering breakfast to Mr. Chen; two victory strategies were listed—one proposed by Catherine involved expending resources to procure tableware from the nearest shop via courier, the other suggested using skulls found within the refrigerator.
"Skulls in the fridge?" Eric recalled attempting to open that refrigerator, only to be startled by Mr. Chen's sudden appearance behind her, causing her to abandon the effort. Skull?
Justin nodded. "These strategies were passed down by Mingyang members. You may reference them but must ultimately devise your own approach—the true path lies in strength. The sheer number of dungeons precludes rote memorization."
"For instance, in the Best Employee dungeon, how many tasks are familiar? Missions shift constantly. I've played this dungeon myself but only recognized it after entering. Remembering is one thing; recalling all dungeon data perfectly is impossible."
Indeed, Eric observed only three familiar tasks, while Sarah swiftly flipped to the final "Hide and Seek" mission, the only fixed one.
The walkthrough was clear; how to catch a player to replace oneself as the ghost was explicitly stated.
The ghosts within the building could not leave—it was the building's property.
The sole method was to seize newcomers arriving from outside: employees, clients, couriers, delivery personnel, even computer repair technicians.
Eric's eyes brightened—her theory was correct!
"Who penned this?" Sarah pointed to a line of fine print on the page's edge.
The inscription read: "This dungeon is suspected to be haunted by the building's vengeful spirit."
Justin explained, "This was likely penned by the inaugural chairperson. She meticulously recorded this dungeon's details, and later members who happened to undertake the same task added supplementary notes. Having survived this round, I shall contribute the insights I have gathered."
Sarah casually inquired, "What was the first chairperson's name?"
"Deborah."
*Clatter!*
A plate fell to the floor; fortunately, the carpet cushioned its fall, sparing it from breaking.
"Sorry, I knocked it over by accident," Eric hastily said, pushing back her chair and bending to retrieve the fallen item.
"I'll handle it; don't risk cutting yourself," Justin offered promptly.
"No matter—I've tidied up. Shall I dispose of the pieces?" Seizing the moment amid the cleanup, Eric composed herself; when she lifted her gaze again, her countenance betrayed nothing.
"The trash bin is this way; come with me."
After depositing the fragments, Eric apologized, "It was my carelessness. I'll buy you a replacement plate."
Justin waved it off; recruitment was his aim, not disputing trivial matters.
"By the way, you said earlier, Joseph, that the first chairperson was Deborah, and that the mutual aid society was founded by a couple. What of the other—?" Eric feigned casual curiosity.
"The vice chairperson, Jeffrey. That notebook is their legacy—their names are inscribed on the cover."
A smile nearly broke free at the corners of Eric's lips.
Deborah and Jeffrey—those were her parents' names!
Her own parents had once entered this endless escape dungeon game!
"Then… they're both resurrected?"
Justin nodded emphatically. "Of course. As a couple, they pooled their points. Before departing, they even left motivational letters for their successors. Once you join, you'll have access to the correspondences left by past chairpersons."
Eric's heart pounded wildly, an indescribable flood of emotions rendering her limbs tremulous.
The few steps back to the table were agonizing; questions swirled, yet she recognized the gravity of restraint.
Why had her parents, though resurrected, never appeared?
Could the Mingyang Mutual Aid Society—allegedly founded by her parents—and its current leader, Justin, be trusted?
Would revealing herself as the founders' daughter bring benefit or burden?
She dared place faith in none lightly.
What had her tentative interest now blossomed into a profound stir—a dozenfold flutter of the heart upon learning of her parents.
Clearly, she needed to join a society.
With the meal concluded, the trio moved to a small reception room for discussion.
Justin presented a final enticement: "Mingyang possesses a special item enabling team formation—once you join, we could venture together into supernatural dungeons."
Sarah gasped softly, while Eric's eyes widened.
"Such an item exists?" Sarah lamented the half-year spent at the transfer station, missing vital information. She barely knew artifacts existed, despite having joined three societies. Were those societies too weak, or was she too peripheral to access secrets?
Eric mused: So this was a long-standing, venerable society—its foundation ran deep.
Having delivered his exposition, Justin asked plainly, "What say you both?"
"Earlier you mentioned you're the sole member here… does Mingyang now have only you?" Eric voiced her doubt.
"Yes…" Justin's expression darkened with pain. "The other four have perished. Only I remain."
"Sorry for your loss."
"The departed are gone, but the living must endure. I carry their hopes forward. Will you walk this path alongside me?"
Sarah was inclined to accept.
That notebook was impressively thick—she had skimmed a few pages and found them densely packed with dungeon records, more comprehensive than any she had seen.
This mutual aid society offered board and lodging, few members meant less infighting; her previous women's society had been fraught with complications—its apparently gentle chairwoman was fiercely ambitious, and rapid recruitment led Sarah to quit after two meetings. Fortunately, their low entry fee made departure facile.
Mingyang was fewer in number, less contentious, steeped in tradition, and notably rich in intelligence—enough to earn her assent.
"I'm in."
"Me too." With half a month left on her single room lease, Eric resolved to move immediately—eager to glean news of her parents and to study the notebook thoroughly. These aims outweighed the remainder of her rent.
Justin suggested collecting their belongings. Eric's possessions remained at the supermarket, yet she feigned compliance, preparing to gather her things.
Carrying a simple backpack, she glanced back before leaving her single room. Securing that room was her greatest gain since entering the game—it offered stability, a haven where she anticipated residing for years, until rebirth allowed her return home.
Little did she expect that on the fifteenth day within the endless escape dungeon, she would be stunned by news of her late parents and join a mutual aid society.
"Farewell."
The door closed.