Dimensional Supermarket - Chapter 128

The tools and prosthetics for special effects makeup arrive in less than three days. Ye Zhou clearly underestimates the technology of the future. He originally thinks applying makeup will be a complicated process—after all, in the variety shows he watches, special effects makeup isn’t just about sticking on prosthetics but also requires layers of makeup.

As for the makeup skills of those in the supermarket…

Ye Zhou isn’t trying to brag, but in his opinion, he’s the only one with any real makeup experience.

Back in elementary school, he often performs on stage. When the makeup artist is too busy, he helps out by applying blush to his classmates. Granted, his blush often looks like a monkey’s butt, but under the stage lights, it’s not too bad.

At least no one tries to hunt him down over it.

So clearly, his skills are widely accepted.

Maybe it’s because everyone in the supermarket sees the same faces every day, or maybe it’s because of their previous environment, but none of the female employees wears makeup. In fact, Ye Zhou is the only one who even uses toner.

Ye Zhou feels that he lives an exceptionally refined life.

Cao’er sits in the chair while Ye Zhou applies the “disguise” to her. The soft prosthetic parts look bizarre lying on the table, and Cao’er can’t imagine how something like that could go on her face.

But since the Lord immortal says it can, then it must be possible.

Cao’er closes her eyes. Her face tingles, especially where the Lord immortal touches it.

Maybe he’s casting a spell?

How else could something so soft make her look like Sister Sarah?

“All done,” Ye Zhou says, putting his hands down. He proudly takes out his phone to snap a picture of her.

Although applying prosthetics doesn’t require much skill, the results—especially since he’s done it himself—look incredibly realistic.

Cao’er now looks indistinguishable from a real European woman.

Her brow bone isn’t prominent to begin with, and while prosthetics are added to her nose bridge and tip, Ye Zhou doesn’t think they change her features that much. Still, these subtle differences make her look like a completely different person.

Because the prosthetics are custom-made, the skin tone matches perfectly. No additional makeup is needed.

Cao’er opens her eyes and stares into the mirror, stunned. It takes a long while before she realizes the person she’s looking at is herself.

She reaches up to touch her face.

“Better not touch it,” Ye Zhou reminds her. “You might mess it up.”

Cao’er quickly drops her hand.

With the special effects makeup ready, Ye Zhou can now go out himself. After finishing Cao’er’s look, he hands a set of prosthetics to Zou Ming. “Can you do it yourself? It’s not hard—you just watched me do it.”

But Zou Ming doesn’t take the tools. He calmly says, completely shameless, “I can’t.”

Ye Zhou: “…”

He looks down at the prosthetics, baffled. The application is so simple even a five-year-old could do it.

Then he looks up at Zou Ming’s expression, shameless as ever.

In the end, Ye Zhou just mutters, “Your hands are that dumb?”

With no other option, he says, “Fine. Sit down. I’ll do it for you.”

Zou Ming takes a seat but doesn’t close his eyes. He watches as Ye Zhou picks up the prosthetics and measures them against his face.

Ye Zhou’s fingers are long and slender, with distinct joints and no calluses—almost like jade, but still strong. Zou Ming takes a quiet breath. The cool prosthetic touches his skin, and Ye Zhou’s fingertips gently press along the edges.

Zou Ming finally closes his eyes.

Every touch feels amplified.

Ye Zhou’s hand is light and precise. He isn’t rough—it gives Zou Ming the illusion of being carefully handled, as if cherished.

It feels like a beautiful dream. So much so that when Ye Zhou speaks, Zou Ming thinks for a moment he’s imagining it.

“Done.” Ye Zhou pats his shoulder. He smirks. “I’m not hypnotizing you. Why do you look like you were about to fall asleep?”

Zou Ming opens his eyes, tilts his head slightly, and looks into Ye Zhou’s.

Ye Zhou: “Get up. I still need to do mine.”

Zou Ming stands up and says, “I’ll help you.”

Ye Zhou waves him off. “Forget it. You can’t even do your own—don’t use me as a test dummy. Take Cao’er and pack up. We’ll leave once I’m done.”

Cao’er, who senses something strange in the air, has already slipped out of the lounge.

She doesn’t know what’s off, but her instincts tell her it’s better to leave.

“It’s enough for just the two of us to go,” Zou Ming says while Ye Zhou is doing his own makeup. “We don’t need to bring her.”

Ye Zhou replies, exasperated, “You’ve got to give people a chance to grow. What if you suddenly have to go back like Sarah did? Am I supposed to go solo?”

Zou Ming frowns, ready to say he won’t leave, but suddenly thinks of something—and holds his tongue.

After Ye Zhou finishes applying the prosthetics, he checks the fit in the mirror. Once satisfied, he stands up. “I told you to pack, and you still haven’t gone?”

There isn’t much to pack—just guns and money.

Ye Zhou has observed the local currency: silver coins, gold coins, and copper coins. It seems that copper coins are most commonly used for everyday transactions.

He hasn’t seen the coins up close, so he doesn’t know the exact size or design.

To be safe, Ye Zhou also packs some goods that can be bartered locally.

“Bring things that are easy to sell,” he says. After walking around a bit, he decides to take a few bags of salt and sugar.

As long as it isn’t an industrial society, salt and sugar will always have a market.

Still, just in case the town has an abundant supply, he brings two crystal balls as well.

After everything is ready, he tells Chen Shu, Wu Yan, and the others to be cautious and not let anyone see the supermarket. Then he leaves with Zou Ming and Cao’er.

It doesn’t take long to reach the nearest town from the supermarket. Maybe because the road is flat and they aren’t carrying much.

Ye Zhou is in a relaxed mood—almost like going on a picnic. He even has the leisure to take out his phone and snap photos.

Cao’er occasionally appears in the pictures. She doesn’t pose much—just stiffly flashes a peace sign.

It’s the most photogenic gesture she knows.

Ye Zhou also takes photos of Zou Ming, who never pauses to pose. This is even better—natural photos always turn out beautifully.

Soon, the three of them arrive at a house.

They’ve scouted this place before: a human family of five who live by farming.

Their life isn’t good, but it isn’t terrible either. They have enough to eat but can’t afford meat. By local standards, they’re lower-middle class.

They don’t own much land.

Their wooden house, though, looks quite high-end compared to the ones on Minzil Continent. It has doors and windows, a triangular roof, steps, a wooden fence, and even a small yard out front with flowers and greenery.

Ye Zhou can’t name the plants, but they’re lush and colorful, giving the home a cheerful, vibrant look.

“Who’s there?” a voice calls from inside.

Thanks to the translator, there’s no language barrier. Ye Zhou calls back confidently, “We’re passing travelers.”

The wooden door opens quickly.

A middle-aged man steps out. He wears dark blue linen, has a scruffy beard, and is shorter than Ye Zhou—his head only reaches Ye Zhou’s chin.

He looks at Ye Zhou and Zou Ming with some wariness, but his gaze softens when it lands on Cao’er.

People are always less wary of women.

If it’s just the two men at his door, he might’ve shut it again.

But because they’re with a woman who is clearly neither a slave nor abused, he lets his guard down slightly.

“What do you want?” he asks, still not inviting them in.

Ye Zhou smiles. “We came from the north. We used up all our money on the road, but we still have salt and sugar. If you need it, we’d like to trade.”

The man replies, “Let me see it.”

Zou Ming opens the cloth bag and takes out a jar of salt and a jar of sugar.

Ye Zhou takes the salt jar, opens it, and hands it over.

The man reaches out and carefully pinches a bit of salt from the jar. He places it in his palm, sniffs it, then licks it. After confirming it’s real salt, he says, “I don’t want the sugar, just the salt. How much for this jar?”

Ye Zhou smiles. “I don’t know what it’s worth here. Back where I’m from, it’s worth this much.”

He raises two fingers.

The man hesitates for a moment but eventually says, “Wait a minute.”

He goes back into the house and soon returns with two silver coins, which he hands to Ye Zhou.

Ye Zhou pockets the coins, and the man can’t help but say, “If you’re heading forward, make sure to go around that town. Don’t ask why. Just don’t go in.”

Ye Zhou gives Zou Ming a look, and Zou Ming immediately steps forward, blocking the doorway to prevent the man from going back inside too quickly.

The man, holding the salt jar, finds himself stuck between Zou Ming and Ye Zhou. He’s unwilling to give up the salt or fight, and he knows he’s no match for them, so he says helplessly, “I can’t explain it clearly. But there’ve always been rumors—strange things happening in that town.” The man glances around, then lowers his voice after making sure no one else is nearby. “Relatives of the townspeople go there seeking shelter, but once they enter, they’re never seen again. Anyway, you’re just passing through. Don’t enter the city. Just go around it. There’s no proof, it’s all speculation.”

Ye Zhou exchanges a glance with Zou Ming, and they’re both certain the man isn’t lying. Zou Ming steps back to Ye Zhou’s side. Ye Zhou smiles and says, “I understand. We’re just being cautious ourselves.”

The man doesn’t respond. Clutching the salt jar, he turns and shuts the door firmly, ignoring anything else Ye Zhou might say.

After they leave, the man hurries to the kitchen with the jar in his arms, a look of excitement on his face.

Two silver coins!

And he gets all this salt for just two silver coins!

It’s a lot, but this salt is snow-white and completely free of bitterness. It’s a steal.

Wait… no.

He stops at the kitchen door. Why doesn’t he ask if they have more salt?

Even if he spends all his savings, he could resell it and make a fortune!

The man sets down the jar and slaps his forehead in frustration. He’s just about to rush out the door when he remembers—they’re heading toward that town. He hesitates, then gives up.

That town has only developed over the past twenty years. It used to be a tiny village with just a dozen households. But twenty years ago, a duchess arrives, builds a castle, and paves roads.

More and more people move in. Everyone seems happy.

Too happy.

To the nearby locals, something feels off.

Maybe it’s because that happiness seems fake. Too perfect. Too strange.

The man shudders involuntarily.