“Coming.”
Bai Linlin replied, pressing her small hand against the rough wooden door and pushing it open.
The light outside was a bit brighter—a simple living room doubling as a kitchen.
A woman in an apron, with a kind face but indistinct features (likely the system-generated “Mother” avatar), stood by the wooden table.
A wicker basket covered with a blue-and-white checkered cloth sat on the table.
“Did you sleep well, my little darling?”
Mother walked over, naturally adjusting the hood of her red cloak with gentle motions.
“Come, listen to Mother. Grandma’s sick and needs some good food to nourish her body.”
“I baked the most delicious cake and packed a bottle of wine—they’re all in this basket.”
Mother picked up the basket and handed it to her.
The basket was a bit heavy; Bai Linlin’s arm dipped when she took it.
“Be a good girl and follow the path behind the house straight into the forest.”
“It’s not far, but remember: don’t stray from the path, don’t play in the forest, and absolutely don’t talk to strangers—go straight to Grandma’s house, got it?”
Mother leaned down, gently patting her head, her eyes full of admonition.
Bai Linlin clutched the hefty basket and nodded, her mind racing with complaints.
Classic lines incoming.
‘Don’t stray from the path’—flag raised.
‘Don’t talk to strangers’—hinting a stranger’s about to show up.
‘Go straight to Grandma’s’—something’s definitely going down midway.
“All right, off you go—give my regards to Grandma. Be careful on the road.”
Mother said finally, turning back to the stove to wipe away nonexistent dust.
Her movements turned repetitive and mechanical, like an NPC who’d finished her key dialogue.
Bai Linlin grabbed the basket and pushed open the back door of the cabin.
A packed dirt path wound forward, stretching into a dense, shadowy forest.
The trees towered high, branches thick and leafy, sunlight filtering through in patchy spots, casting dim light within.
The air smelled of earth, leaves, and humus.
Her feet hit the dirt path—red leather shoes (she didn’t know when she’d put them on)—making a light tap-tap sound.
The basket really wasn’t light; after just a short walk, her slender arms started to ache.
“What kind of death game is this? Can’t even optimize the item weight system? Thumbs down!”
She muttered, switching the basket from her right hand to her left.
The surroundings were very quiet, only the rustle of wind through leaves and her own footsteps.
Too quiet—it’s giving me the creeps.
According to the script, the Big Bad Wolf should be showing up soon, right?
She started pondering a serious question.
What to do when she ran into the Big Bad Wolf?
Beg for mercy? Play pitiful? Say her meat was too little and unappetizing?
As she mulled it over, a more horrifying thought suddenly hit her, halting her steps.
“Wait… this is a ‘death game.'”
“Game… so there should be more than just me as a ‘player,’ right?”
“Since I can play ‘Little Red Riding Hood,’ is it possible… the Big Bad Wolf is played by another player too?”
The idea sent a chill down her spine, yet it sparked a sliver of absurd hope.
If the Big Bad Wolf was a player—a human, not a real beast—couldn’t they communicate? Negotiate?
Her mind quickly played out little scenarios:
Scene one: Pitiful loli mercy ploy.
Her (teary-eyed, voice trembling): “M-Mr. Wolf… please don’t eat me… I’m so small, not tasty at all… My task is to deliver cake—maybe yours is just to scare me?”
“How about we team up and clear this together?”
Big Bad Wolf player (stroking chin): “Hmm… makes sense. You’re cute, so I’ll let you off. But share half the cake.”
Happy end? Possible?
Scene two: Cold hard reality smackdown.
Her (attempting negotiation): “Wolf player bro, let’s talk? My task is deliver stuff and… uh, kill the wolf. What’s yours? Maybe they don’t conflict?”
Big Bad Wolf player (grinning, flashing white fangs, speaking human words): “Funny you ask—my main quest is ‘devour Grandma’ and ‘devour Little Red Riding Hood.’ Side quest: ‘evade the hunter.’ Little sis, our tasks… don’t they clash hard?”
Bai Linlin: “…”
Then what the hell to negotiate! Running might not even work!
Opponent’s a wolf—four legs!
Her stubby little legs, combat power five trash—barely a toothpick for its teeth?
Survival instincts and gamer logic kicked into overdrive.
Straight fight? No way. Negotiation? Might flop.
Then… call for backup?
What was in the fairy tale? The hunter.
Right, the hunter!
The one who later guts the wolf and saves Grandma and Little Red Riding Hood!
If the Big Bad Wolf could be a player, why not the hunter?
What would the hunter’s task be?
Probably “protect Little Red Riding Hood” or “kill the Big Bad Wolf”!
Perfect match for her goals!
A natural teammate!
“Find the hunter!”
Bai Linlin decided instantly.
Better than banking on a wolf player’s “mercy”—find an ally with aligned objectives.
The question was… where was the hunter?
In the story, he showed up after the wolf ate Grandma and Little Red Riding Hood.
Right now, wolf hadn’t appeared (or was lurking), Grandma wasn’t eaten—would the hunter be nearby?
She kept walking the path, scanning warily all around, hoping to spot a figure with a gun and hunter garb.
The basket felt even heavier.
After about ten minutes, the path curved, revealing a small forest clearing nearby.
A fallen dead log sat in the clearing.
And on the log… a person.
A man.
Early twenties, in dark brown leather hunter’s outfit, an old double-barrel shotgun leaning by his feet.
He was hunched over, wiping a dagger with a cloth, his profile sharp and hard-lined.
Bai Linlin’s heart thumped.
The hunter!
He really appeared!
And so early!
She took a deep breath, schooling her expression to look like an innocent (and desperately needy) little girl, then walked toward the clearing.
“Um… excuse me, are you Mr. Hunter?”
She spoke, deliberately softening her voice.
The man looked up at her.
His gaze started wary and appraising, sweeping over her red cloak and basket, as if confirming something.
“Little Red Riding Hood?”
His voice was low.
“Yes.”
Bai Linlin nodded, locking eyes with him, trying to gauge NPC or player.
She decided to go direct, lowering her voice to a whisper only they could hear.
“Odd changes, even stays?”
The man’s dagger-wiping paused.
He looked up, eyebrows arching, face flashing clear surprise and… absurdity?
“…Sign by quadrant?”
He replied hesitantly, in a tone screaming what the hell is this?
Yes! A player!
Bai Linlin nearly burst into tears of joy, a rush of “found my people” surging through her.
But she held steady, probing further.
“Palace jade nectar wine?”
The man.
“…180 a cup?”
“Earth—round or flat?”
“Round, but some idiots online think flat.”
“Yesmora!“
“…The hell? No clue. But ‘Oli give‘ gets ‘er done—that I know.”
Confirmed!
Not an NPC!
A real live player!
Bai Linlin nearly lunged to shake his hand (but restrained herself) and asked urgently.
“What’s your task? Protect Little Red Riding Hood or kill the wolf?”
The man—or rather, the hunter player—sheathed the dagger in his boot, standing up.
He towered over her; she had to crane her neck.
“My main quest: Ensure ‘Little Red Riding Hood’ survives and kill the ‘Big Bad Wolf.'”
“Side quest: Uncover the source of the forest anomaly.”
He was concise.
“Yours? Deliver cake, then… kill wolf?”
“Yep!”
Bai Linlin nodded vigorously, like clutching a lifeline.
“I’m Bai Linlin, combat power five. The ‘cute but useless’ type. Killing the wolf solo? Dead meat. Team up?”
The hunter player eyed her tiny frame, a hint of helpless amusement in his eyes, quickly masked.
“Lin Yan, 21, combat power… never mind, better than yours.”
“Team up’s fine. But my task requires keeping you alive, so theoretically, you follow my lead—no wandering.”
“No problem!”
Bai Linlin agreed instantly.
Hug a thigh? Listening’s nothing!
“We head to Grandma’s now? Per the story, wolf might ambush there—or already be waiting.”
Lin Yan nodded, slinging the shotgun over his shoulder.
“Let’s go. You lead; I’ll trail a bit behind to avoid spooking anything. I’ll handle trouble.”
Solid plan.
Bai Linlin felt much more secure.
She hefted the basket and resumed the path.
Lin Yan followed unhurriedly, about ten meters back, eyes sharply scanning the woods.
The rest of the way… felt weird.
Too smooth.
No chatty “Mr. Wolf” jumping out, no odd noises, not even large animal tracks.
Just wind in leaves, bird calls, insect chirps.
Sunlight dappling through branches.
Bai Linlin grew uneasy.
Something’s off.
Where’s the wolf?
Even if the wolf player went straight to Grandma’s to camp, why’s the road this dead calm?
Does this game not force-trigger events at the start?
She sneaked a glance back at Lin Yan.
He was frowning slightly, clearly sensing the anomaly too.
He gripped the shotgun tighter, more alert.
In this eerie calm, they reached a small cabin deep in the forest.
The cabin looked weathered, no smoke from the chimney, doors and windows shut tight.
The little front garden had wilting flowers.
This was “Grandma’s house.”
Bai Linlin stopped at the fence gate, heart pounding faster.
Her grip on the basket handle left it damp.
Calm often means storm incoming.
The wolf was likely inside—or watching from nearby.
She glanced back, mouthing silently to distant Lin Yan.
“Here. I go in?”
Lin Yan nodded, ducking behind a big tree, raising the shotgun, barrel vaguely aimed at the door and windows.
He signaled “careful,” then pointed to himself—I’ll cover.
Bai Linlin took several deep breaths.
Scared? Terrified.
But with the shotgun and teammate (temp though he was) behind her, courage crept back.
She pushed open the creaking fence gate, walked the short gravel path, and reached the cabin door.
The door was shut tight.
She raised her hand, small palm pressing the cold, rough wood.
Heart drumming like thunder.
She looked back once more at Lin Yan’s hiding spot, getting a firm nod.
Then, she knocked lightly, calling out in the sweetest, most in-character voice.
“Grandma, you there? It’s Little Red Riding Hood—Mom sent me with cake and wine.”