Chapter 20: If I Don’t Know Who I Am, Then I’m Your Hostage in This World

The failed task had to continue. After having his props intercepted, Bai Jingchuan ascended three levels in the arena. Upon exiting, he carefully checked his level in the MENU. At level 25, the fact that he could be intercepted meant the opponent was either a participant of higher rank and authority in the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods or a higher-dimensional overseer. Either way, he understood. Jiang Huan had others around her connected to the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods.

Jiang Huan was far more than just a target to be won over.

“Li Bode, a reminder—Task 2-1 will open soon. Collecting fragments is like a treasure hunt. The more fragments related to Jiang Huan you find, the closer you get to securing a date with her.”

“But I don’t want to date her.”

“If I had a lie detector right now, it would be loud enough to wake the entire building. Since returning home yesterday, you’ve been obsessively slicing butter, sitting on the couch sniffing blankets, searching for Dan Dimon in your visor, picking up your phone to message Jiang Huan only to put it down and pace furiously in the living room. At least complete the task and secure the date—it might calm your restlessness.”

“If I’m forced to pursue her, I can’t do it. First, I need to know who I am.”

The die hesitated, wanting to say something but stopping itself.

Bai Jingchuan stepped outside and noticed several gray humanoid shadows lingering near the bus stop, dispersing as if observing something. Their movements revealed a certain lifelessness, as if they lacked souls. The die slowly spoke: “These are electronic souls with consciousness but no true human form. By absorbing human emotions, there’s a chance they can become androids. You’ll start seeing them at Stage Two—something even E and F-level permissions can’t access. By pursuing Jiang Huan, you may also uncover your identity and decide whether personas matter. You must already know—there are people with higher permissions around Jiang Huan. You’re not the most outstanding participant in the Realm of Ten Thousand Gods. In fact, there are many excellent people around Jiang Huan in real life. Anyone can like her. Forcing a bond doesn’t mean she’s destined to be yours.”

Bai Jingchuan understood. He was originally the protagonist of some work, and being told that didn’t matter now… Standing beneath the company building, the “peers” passing by each carried their own concerns, but none felt as stifled as him.

“Wasting emotions on unnecessary things is a form of resource conservation. I believe you sent 4.90 electronic data points to collect emotions—not for charity.”

Though his response was calm, stepping into the elevator, Jiang Huan entered with colleagues from other departments, chatting intimately. They discussed an older schoolmate who had gone to Japan to become a renowned producer at a game company. Both admired him, exchanging compliments at a rapid pace—each floor passed brought another compliment. Jiang Huan’s speech had never been this fast before. The man, likely from an MMO background transitioning to holographic action, seemed well-versed in emotional affairs. A quick read of his mind revealed his interest in Jiang Huan wasn’t pure. Inside the elevator, Bai Jingchuan stood as an observer, an NPC, an unimportant backdrop, watching the two explode in conversation.

Bai Jingchuan’s expression darkened. Following behind, he exited on the fourteenth floor and glanced at “that man.” Recalling his status and ranking in Magu City, anger flared within him. He didn’t care about others’ feelings—as long as he could complete the task, unlock the date, and quickly upgrade his overall level to A, there would surely be faster and more efficient ways to conduct human research.

He didn’t understand this emotion gnawing at him, but every second left him restless. In Magu City, he’d never felt this way—the arena cured all ailments. Now, however, his inner fire burned fiercely. How primitive this emotional state was—was it jealousy?

Impossible.

At the December birthday party for employees, a ten-inch pink strawberry cream cake was generously spread with strawberries. Colleagues carefully cut it into as whole shapes as possible, distributing slices. An intern, blushing, offered one to Bai Jingchuan, who coldly refused: “Sorry, I don’t eat sweets.”

The die rolled a few times beside him. Bai Jingchuan’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, his rejection icy. The intern looked disappointed and afraid. Jiang Huan noticed, and as others began cutting another cake, the intern glanced at him and took a step back. Jiang Huan, catching the intern’s gaze, seemed to be challenging him. She picked up the cake knife, glanced at him once more, and prepared to cut. Bai Jingchuan noticed but remained steadfast, standing three tables away with an unyielding expression. The die was thoroughly confused: “Is Li Bode, who’s acting like he’s going through withdrawal, refusing sweets now?”

“I don’t accept sweets at all times. If my persona addiction isn’t triggered, I don’t need to eat.”

“But Jiang Huan seems to have cut one for you.”

Bai Jingchuan gritted his teeth: “Being unable to overcome one’s persona isn’t becoming a self-cultivated protagonist. Succumbing to instinct is a sign of weakness.”

“You stubborn man! This is preparation for a date! Do you even want the date fragments or not!”

Jiang Huan approached, clearly in good spirits: “Have some cake.”

“I’m not worthy enough to eat it.”

“Huh?” Jiang Huan gave him a puzzled look, hard not to associate with the incident in the elevator: “Go ahead, it’s teatime. Don’t reject our kindness.”

Her smile was particularly sweet, accompanied by a playful wrinkle of her nose and a mischievous nasal tone that sounded almost like a pout. Bai Jingchuan smiled as sweetly as the cream he swallowed: “Alright, I’ll accept. Because it’s from you, I like it very much.”

“Huh?”

“I like how considerate you are toward me.”

As Jiang Huan turned her head, her stiffness seemed to creak like an unoiled machine—had the producer taken the wrong pill?

 [Jiang Huan’s affection towards you: +30. Date fragment 1 dropped.]

When it was Jiang Huan’s turn for the big presentation, compared to Bai Jingchuan’s earlier talk on completely open worlds, Jiang Huan appeared well-prepared, determined not to lose. Sitting in the last row, the dim lighting did little to dull her radiance as she spoke passionately about holographic companionship, her entire being glowing under the projector light, her eyes especially bright:

“The charm of holograms lies in interaction. Initially, people’s contact with holograms might involve sitting together, taking photos, or training models for dialogue and companionship, much like what Her achieves. But we’ve gradually moved beyond that—through devices, we can now experience combat interactions, haptic feedback. Perhaps wearing the tactile suits from Ready Player One , we’ll feel pain, speed, and become someone else entirely in another world…”

He admired Jiang Huan’s passionate demeanor, which had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her love for the industry. Li Bode had no family; the idols of Magu City never made him cheer wildly or pour out his emotions recklessly. He couldn’t understand such behavior—it was purely Jiang Huan herself who moved him. His fate tied to hers was no coincidence.

Each heartbeat during the fragment collection was beyond his control.

[Date fragment 2 dropped.]

One of Lorry’s lesser-seen investment bosses sat in the back, over fifty with graying hair, likely dedicated to developing holographic companionship. When their eyes met, Bai Jingchuan noticed but didn’t expect to pick up a fragment during this segment. After the presentation, Jiang Huan walked behind while two colleagues chatted ahead, their conversation overheard by Jiang Huan and Bai Jingchuan: “I don’t know her well, but every time I see her, she seems unconcerned with appearances. Our company has so many lolitas and JK uniforms—have you seen her hair? It wouldn’t cost much to dye it properly.”

Jiang Huan said nothing, calmly following behind, still humming after her enthusiastic presentation. Bai Jingchuan, sharp as ever, recognized her off-key melody—she was embarrassed, awkward, and panicked by the subtle rejection.

“You did great.”

“You seem to have noticed—I don’t pay much attention to appearances.”

“It’s fine. Even without makeup, I think you’re beautiful. There’s an intern who wrote a note specifically requesting to pass it to you. I think he saw your charm.”

“Huh?” Jiang Huan instinctively touched her yellow-tipped hair.

“No lie—it’s true. Changing appearance isn’t the only way to reinvent oneself. A shining dream-like aura can also catch the eye.”

“Stop talking,” Jiang Huan covered his mouth with her hand: “Bai Jingchuan, stop talking. You’re not yourself today. Too sweet, like a romance novel hero—it’s terrifying. I admit you’re charming, but let’s not get too close—it’s really scary.”

[Jiang Huan’s affection towards you: +50. Date fragment 2 dropped.]

…

Back at the office, Bai Jingchuan saw a group gathered around a computer, exclaiming. As he approached, they dispersed. Jiang Huan wore a gray Japanese school uniform and a pink wig, running in the standard J-drama style. It was undeniably captivating. Akira, seeing Bai Jingchuan approach, seemed excited to show him Jiang Huan.

“What is this?”

“This is Jiang Huan’s cosplay from a previous year-end party. It was a long time ago when a department was working on an otome game. She looks just like the heroine.” Akira was thrilled: “This cosplay photo even made it to the company forum’s hot posts.”

“It seems one should strive to become an important character in others’ lives. I’ve missed a lot.”

“You’re indeed a latecomer, Teacher Bai. Jiang Huan cosplayed as the heroine—so alike that everyone said she was the chosen otome heroine. But later, she stopped caring for her hair and appearance, wasting the manga heroine image.”

Jiang Huan suddenly slapped Akira’s shoulder from behind: “You tricked me into appearing on the program.”

“You were the one who poured the most emotion into the male lead. Our tricks weren’t sophisticated—you walked right into the trap.”

Akira earnestly recalled Jiang Huan’s appearance, but Jiang Huan, uninterested, seemed bothered by the gossip: “It was just cosplay. I can’t be the heroine, so stop teasing me.”

[Date fragment 3 dropped.]

The final fragment eluded him. Bai Jingchuan searched the neighborhood for a long time, finally resting on a swing. After enduring the earlier embarrassment and Jiang Huan’s deliberate neglect, he stayed silent, consoling himself that quietness could be a form of charm. The die popped up, only to be immediately dismissed—he needed solitude.

A girl stood by the sandbox, dirty and wearing tattered white sneakers with a hole. Bai Jingchuan asked her: “Do you want to play?”

“Not really.” The girl stared fixedly at the swing.

Two boys swung high on either side, shouting and laughing freely, seemingly mocking. The girl turned to leave but was stopped by Bai Jingchuan: “Why give up so easily?”

“My mom says not to provoke boys outside—their moms and grandmas are fierce.”

“But I can help you swing.” Manipulating air was a trivial matter. The two boys were moved to the nearby sandbox, bewildered for a moment before forgetting the swing. The girl sat on the swing, and the two boys hesitated to approach, intimidated by Bai Jingchuan standing nearby. After ensuring her clothes weren’t dirtied, the girl looked up at him. Bai Jingchuan waved his hand: “I don’t need to play. No need to ask for my permission.”

But he felt a pang of compassion. A kind-hearted girl’s initial reaction was to share with him—he couldn’t refuse. Standing beside the swing, he extended his hand, trying to be gentle: “Uncle will push you three times. Hold on tight.”

“Okay!”

“One, two, three—”

[You have used the prop “Purify the World.”]

Reaching out wasn’t so hard after all—it was even somewhat… touching. Suddenly, bubbles filled the air. The girl’s eyes widened, as if she’d never seen anything like it: “Big Brother, where did these bubbles come from? I’ve never seen anything like them…”

The wind carried large, transparent, dreamlike bubbles past their eyes. Inside them, the girl giggled, bursting one bubble only for another to take its place. To offer such tenderness in a scene where love hadn’t been felt before—it wasn’t stingy. As the bubbles drifted away, the girl chased after them, leaving Jiang Huan standing behind them, astonished: “Bai Jingchuan, I have a new impression of you.”

Bai Jingchuan remained silent, waiting for her to speak.

“You always wear the same suit, say cryptic things, and focus so intensely it’s frightening. Yet, you’re romantic in places I don’t see. Most terrifying of all, I can’t forget any of those moments.”

“It’s innate. I don’t want it, but it’s hard to shake off.”

[Date fragment 2 dropped. All date fragments collected. Task 2-1 completed. Lv 23 → Lv 24. 10,000 gold coins and 1 self-select box dropped.]

[Initiating a date requires 100,000 gold coins. Interaction with Jiang Huan will update upon initiation.]

“Are you alright? Your protagonist aura is too strong.”

“I’m fully aware I’m the protagonist. Ordinary life doesn’t interest me.”

It started raining. The mist moistened their eyes—misunderstandings could arise from a single prolonged gaze.

“No.” Jiang Huan was serious: “Everyone is the protagonist of their own life. If you don’t know what happens in their lives, you can’t understand when their ‘highlight moments’ occur. If someone can be a hero for a few moments in a long span of time, they can be the protagonist. Most of the time, though, they live.”

“Even if they pass through your life momentarily, would you remember them?”

“Who are you talking about?” Jiang Huan didn’t expect him to ask this, standing speechless: “NPCs have their own fates too.”

“What about me? Am I a passerby, an NPC, or someone you’d remember?”

“You’re a villain.” Jiang Huan nodded: “Irresistibly attractive to the opposite sex, yet oblivious to it yourself. You only care about destroying the world, possessing an otherworldly beauty—annoyingly so.”

“You think I’m annoying?”

“Yes.” Jiang Huan looked into Bai Jingchuan’s eyes: “Is there any way to get rid of you?”

Bai Jingchuan suddenly grabbed her hand.

“No one can call me a supporting character—especially not you. If I’m not the protagonist, and you don’t acknowledge my protagonist aura, there’s no reason for me to be here.”

“Huh?” Jiang Huan’s heart pounded: “Is it that serious? Am I that important to you—to elevate it to this level?”

“Important.” Bai Jingchuan seemed crazed: “I’m your hostage to this world.”

Jiang Huan froze. She didn’t understand—she was just an ordinary girl, unlucky and mistreated by fate, accustomed to walking in the shadows by the sea, using work to daydream, fantasy being her only psychological anchor. Bai Jingchuan was like an unexpected intruder, dragging unseen things into her life. Her once calm world surged, shook, her limbs floated, her breath caught. Though life appeared unchanged, everything around her became unreasonable. He wasn’t much better—confused, saying cryptic words, equally shaken by the waves, pulling her along into dizziness. In the sea’s damp and misty gaze, the first time she saw his vulnerable moment—it disappeared like fog. He too had things he couldn’t decipher within himself. In their distant gazes, she understood—ambiguity gathered like droplets on the skin, forming beads that slid off, causing an itch that made her tremble. Before her heart could comprehend, her body had already sensed it—the tsunami receded, but the tide remained restless. It was desire.

She curled her trembling fingertips into her palm: “I understand, hostage. I’ll go now.”

Just as she tried to escape, Bai Jingchuan held her hand firmly, frowning as if lost in thought.

[Synthesizing date fragments requires 60,000 gold coins. Use now?]

Without hesitation, Bai Jingchuan confirmed.

“This weekend, can I meet the hostage? It’s a personal request.”

“And if I refuse?”

[You have forcibly activated dating rights.]

“Alright, hostage, see you this weekend.”

Bai Jingchuan smiled triumphantly, turning to leave: “Then, see you this weekend.”

Jiang Huan herself didn’t expect that someone who never budged on romance, rarely dated men, and whose sharp tongue spared no one, would agree to a date.