Survival Queen of the Frozen Wastes novel Chapter 56

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Riley couldn’t help but think back to all her effort–fighting monsters, scouring every inch of the place–and coming up completely empty. Then she glanced at TartKing beside her, grinning like a fool, popping open a loot chest every few steps just by kicking it.

A heavy, sour feeling settled in her chest–call it the bitterness of being chronically unlucky.

So this was how the other half lived?

Was this what people meant by “dumb luck“?

“TartKing,” Riley said, turning to her with sudden seriousness.

“Huh? What’s up, boss? Monsters?” TartKing tightened her grip on the frying pan, eyes darting around.

“No.” Riley placed a firm hand on her shoulder, her tone meaningful. “From now on, you’re on chest duty. All of it.

“You’ve just got the touch.”

TartKing blinked. “But I’m not even that good…”

She didn’t fully get it, but praise from Riley still made her smile widely.

“You got it, boss! Leave it to me!”

The two of them were moving along, taking down monsters and cracking open chests in a relatively easy rhythm, when-

Up ahead, an unfamiliar noise broke through the dungeon’s silence.

Sounded like… a bunch of people arguing.

Riley immediately raised a finger to her lips and pulled TartKing into a shadowy alcove.

There weren’t many survivors left on the second floor to begin with. If a group was gathered and fighting, it couldn’t mean anything good.

“Back off the chest! We spotted it first!”

“First come doesn’t mean a thing here. It’s finders keepers–now beat it!”

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Chapter 56 Lucky TartKing

“You’ve got some nerve! We barely lured those monsters away to get to this!”

Around the corner, voices rose, sharp and tense, mixed with the metallic scrape being readied.

Hidden in the shadows, Riley and TartKing peered carefully into the space ahead.

In a broader stone hall, two groups stood squared off, tensions ready to snap.

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On one side were five or six survivors in patchwork gear, all looking worse for wear–bruised, bloody, and barely holding it together. Behind them sat a chest glowing with a soft silver light.

A silver–tier chest.

Riley’s eyes narrowed.

A silver chest was still a major find at this stage. Taking down an elite boss earlier had only netted them two.

The other side was a squad of five, all wearing matching crimson pauldrons. Their leader, a buzz–cut guy with cold eyes, was casually spinning a pair of daggers in his hands, a smug grin on his face.

Riley’s frown deepened. Nightfall again? Looked like they had numbers. But compared to the bald guy they’d run into before, this crew’s gear was clearly a notch down.

“Got nerve?” the buzz–cut guy laughed, low and mocking. “In this hellhole, the only rule is who’s left standing. Walk away now, or we’ll strip your Inventories clean too.”

“You-!”

The leader of the other group, a worn–looking guy in his thirties, was shaking with anger. But a glance at his injured crew behind him made him bite down hard. Finally, he swallowed his pride.

“Fine! Take the damn thing! We’re out of here.”

That was just how it worked here. No strength, no say–not even in when you walked

away.

Just as the ragtag group began to back off and the buzz–cut guy stepped forward to claim the chest-

“Ding–a–ling–ling-”

A clear, almost merry chime rang out, totally out of place, like it had drifted in from another

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Chapter 56 Lucky TartKing

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world.

Everyone froze.

That sound… it didn’t belong. Not in this grim, gray dungeon.

Then, the air in the middle of the hall shimmered, like heat rising off asphalt.

A small wooden door materialized out of nowhere, decorated with colorful paper lanterns. A crooked sign hung from it.

“Goblin Guild–Pop–up Sale”

“Creeeak-”

The door swung inward.

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