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The timely cessation of the doorbell’s chime created a still frame, as if freezing the moment. The three sets of eyes converged, each harboring their own hidden motives. The dice, even through the air, could feel Bai Jingchuan’s hostility. This man was usually stable, with an emotional threshold so high that he rarely blushed—whether in front of Jiang Huan or anyone else. But the dice, sharp and merciless as the god of love, noticed something different. When faced with unfamiliar and tricky situations, the Executor would genuinely—turn black with anger.
There weren’t many people on Renwu Road during weekends. The road was often closed for markets—second-hand stalls, charity sales, and idle goods exchanges. Pedestrians were still sparse at this hour, but the booths buzzed with activity. In the background, an old-school melancholic ballad played: “For all the wrongs I’ve clung to out of love…”
The dice found the music tacky and loud, instinctively siding with his protégé. “Li Bode, don’t be afraid of him. A childhood friend can’t compete with someone who drops from the sky. Knowing her for six years doesn’t mean much.”
Bai Jingchuan presented himself as the Executor—official, magnanimous, and looking down from above. “Thank you for taking me in when I was drunk last time.”
“It was nothing,” Dan Dimon replied gently. “Would you like something to eat? This place doesn’t have anything particularly valuable, but I’m good at making noodles.”
Bai Jingchuan’s image wouldn’t be tarnished by a single meal. Neither the Executor nor the producer intended to sit here and eat noodles, maintaining basic courtesy. He was fully aware of himself and wouldn’t let emotions sway him. His current wariness stemmed from seeing this silver-haired man in Mowu City before.
The dice sneered quietly. “Fortunately, what was served wasn’t sweet.”
Dan Dimon brought out a tea set, meticulously cleaning it, pouring out the first rinse of water, and pushing over a small cup of tea. “Jiang Huan is my regular customer. She endured a lot under Romance Continent . It’s fortunate for your entire production team to have met her now. You’ve helped her a great deal, and she really likes you.”
“Romance Continent is an open-world game with many maps. We only handle the romance aspect. I haven’t experienced emotions myself, but because of these passionate and hardworking girls, I admire them deeply.”
The Executor transformed seamlessly into a producer, remaining poised and elegant while not focusing solely on Jiang Huan. Even Jiang Huan glanced back at him, mesmerized. In that fleeting moment when their eyes met, both recalled the ambiguous scene from yesterday. Bai Jingchuan’s gaze lingered intently, while Jiang Huan, after a moment of shyness, raised an eyebrow defiantly.
She refused to back down. This exchange didn’t escape Dan Dimon’s notice, and Bai Jingchuan felt a flicker of triumph. Picking up the teacup, he looked at Dan Dimon. With calm confidence, Dan Dimon continued, “In this city, there are many hardworking women, but few pour their soul into it like her. Having her around feels like being bathed in light. I’d willingly provide everything I can for her, and fortunately, she relies on me too.”
Each drop of water Bai Jingchuan swallowed felt like a slow torture to his throat.
The other party showed no defensiveness, remaining polite and warm. Bai Jingchuan suspected he already knew who he was. Gently addressing the back of Jiang Huan’s head, he asked, “Why come here to work overtime? Is it uncomfortable at home, or is the office environment not good enough?”
“Teacher Bai, you might still not understand the essence of work.” Jiang Huan didn’t look back. “Though I love our project and you very much, working on weekends feels like punishment.”
“You could’ve come to see me next door.”
Jiang Huan visibly flushed from her neck to her ears, trying to tuck her hair behind them to hide. Dan Dimon spoke for her. “Yesterday, she seemed to have had a pleasant dream, probably inspiring new ideas for her male protagonist. She came here as soon as it was dawn.”
“I’m her superior. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She’s used to telling me everything.”
“Even things about me?”
“Yes, I know everything about you.”
Dan Dimon remained smiling, showing no cracks in his composure. Bai Jingchuan wouldn’t lose his cool—he was the top-ranked player in Mowu City, always succeeding in every battle and contest. But human hormones were truly unstable. Otherwise, how could he feel his blood rush and crave madness? Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. “She writes the plot so smoothly. Anyone capable of being Jiang Huan’s muse must indeed be proud.”
With a faint smile, Dan Dimon checked the time. “A new friend will arrive soon.” Pushing the door open, Wen Li entered, exuding an aura unlike most women. Her short, platinum-blond hair was styled sharply, and her sunglasses were clearly designer pieces. Under her suit, a black bra peeked out over a nude-colored base layer, paired with glossy knee-high boots. She looked like a cutting-edge, avant-garde star. Jiang Huan likened her to a celebrity because—she was no longer the superficial, anxious fashion blogger who needed to carry three reflector boards outdoors. Instead, owning a company and being relied upon had given her an aura most people couldn’t achieve in just a few days. Addressing Jiang Huan directly, Wen Li said, “I’ve finally met you. Thank you for last time.”
But as for what exactly happened, Wen Li didn’t elaborate. The scent of her cold, clinical perfume wafted into the shop. Sitting at a table against the wall, she responded to messages. Her nail art design puzzled Jiang Huan but struck her as incredibly trendy—trendy to the point of causing rheumatism. Dan Dimon exchanged a few words with her, and after several rounds of conversation, Jiang Huan realized, “Did you two just meet? How do you seem so familiar?”
“We hit it off immediately. Dan Dimon knows everything. I have a friend who wants to open a VR store; he recommended games and equipment.”
Jiang Huan felt a pang of disappointment, her smile strained. “Dan Dimon, you really have so many friends.”
Bai Jingchuan noticed Jiang Huan’s drooping eyelids and sorrowful gaze. One person’s arrival made two others unhappy. Wen Li sensed it and felt a bit smug. “I heard President Bai and Teacher Jiang Huan work on holographic companionship. Is it considered a game?”
“Not entirely. It has stories, but mainly focuses on virtual companionship—it’s more like The Sims .”
“Can humans fall in love with virtual beings?” Wen Li laughed. “I think it’s unlikely. They’re completely separate worlds; they can’t be together.”
“Without experience, you have no right to comment.”
“I’m pragmatic. Relationships require accumulation over time. Are you sure staring at a computer or phone screen provides emotional support?”
Wen Li eyed the twin-tailed figurine in Dan Dimon’s display case. “When you realize this figurine is just a product, you’ll wake up from the illusion, realizing you’ve wasted too much time on nonexistent things.”
Jiang Huan absolutely wouldn’t allow anyone to attack Dan Dimon. Adjusting her glasses, she typed on her laptop earnestly. “I think the world, viewed macroscopically, is like a giant game map. Everyone operates within their own sections. Electronic data crossing over into human territory creates intersections—not impossible. Sensitive people naturally pick up traces of those who’ve been there.”
Dan Dimon reached out to ruffle Jiang Huan’s hair.
Wen Li chuckled awkwardly. “I came to invite you to a villa party. I host one every year, and this time I want to try something special. Dan Dimon and I specially customized a little game. I hope you’ll honor us with your presence.”
A stranger-turned-millionaire taking away her old friend and then inviting her like a host left Jiang Huan with absolutely no desire to attend. Competing covertly with Wen Li, Dan Dimon said, “Jiang Huan, join us. You’re so charismatic; the game wouldn’t be complete without you.”
The organizer coaxed patiently, while Bai Jingchuan sipped his tea calmly, relishing it. The dice urged, “Li Bode, quickly volunteer to join! If you wait too long, they’ll fill up, and you won’t get a spot!”
“What’s worrying? Do I have a choice not to go? If the system doesn’t release a mission within ten seconds, their ‘hard mode’ would be all talk.”
Counting down ten seconds on the table, the interface remained clean—no trace of a mission. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “As part of the production team, I also need to gather material. So, do you still have room to invite me?”
Jiang Huan always remembered the string of clothes drying outside the parking garage at sunset, and the exhausted, collapsing Wen Li late at night. Seeing this WL PRESS owner renting a villa for a gathering left her feeling disoriented.
Wen Li applied pomade, slicking her short hair back, wearing a gothic-style dress. With her petite frame and excellent proportions, she stood out in the crowd like a cyberpunk elf. Surrounded by her subordinates with black lipstick and some unfamiliar faces, this party was a nightmare for the socially anxious. Wen Li appeared to be someone who enjoyed socializing immensely. Jiang Huan didn’t mind, observing people as always. After circling the room, her conclusion was clear—the endpoint of fashion was detachment from humanity.
The pre-game chatter and drinks were noisy. Jiang Huan retreated to a corner. Dan Dimon sat beside her. “Uncomfortable?”
“There are too many people.”
“These events reveal multiple facets of human nature. Once we leave this villa, whether weaknesses, flaws, or highlights, none count toward character judgment. But—why is your superior late? Once the designated time passes and the door closes, I’ll remove two cards, denying him participation.”
“If he doesn’t come, so be it. Who wants to play games with their boss? We already played a shooting game recently. Working together in holograms and hanging out after work—I’m tired of it…”
Just as she finished speaking, a man in black walked in, wearing a white shirt underneath. There was some subtle decoration on his chest Jiang Huan couldn’t quite make out. He handed Wen Li a gift politely, wearing leather gloves that made his hands look sexy yet overly pretentious. Standing before Jiang Huan and Dan Dimon, he loomed arrogantly. “I’m late. Had some matters to attend to.”
Jiang Huan felt an inexplicable sense of embarrassment. At its core, this villa party was entertainment—or, put bluntly, possibly a clandestine hookup spot. Who would take such an occasion seriously?
「Jiang Huan’s Favorability -50.」
Catching up to the game time, Dan Dimon put on his glasses and explained the rules carefully. “Are you all ready? Now that the doors are closed, our horror cruise ship sets sail. The cruise alternates between day and night. During the day, free movement; at night, killing begins. Ghost cards can be killed by assassins or retaliate. Each person holds two cards, representing two identities. Our goal is to survive until the final round, where civilians and assassins determine victory, or individual roles achieve solo wins. There are two ghost cards and four assassins among you. Your identities may overlap. Upon losing the first identity, the second activates. I’ll explain each role…”
Devils, assassins, and witches could kill, but required one-on-one encounters in enclosed spaces. Hunters chased ghosts and could counterattack; assassins couldn’t kill ghosts, but witches could poison everyone.
White angels had the chance to resurrect others or themselves.
Manipulators could swap identities but needed two lives for one swap—useful if both identities were boring.
Genies could use any ability once, fulfilling a wish, but would die afterward, leaving a final message.
Seers held keys, allowing them to unlock doors for nighttime observations, but had to guard their keys. If ghosts obtained the key, the seer would perish instantly.
The final winner could choose someone to escape with—same faction, bound lovers, or alone to savor victory.
During the card-drawing phase, Jiang Huan grew nervous, picking the two closest cards. The Executor, with impeccable manners, waited for the
last two cards, examining them with a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Jiang Huan couldn’t read anyone’s expressions, so she flipped her cards over—only to roll her eyes instantly.
Dan Dimon patted her shoulder, startling her. “Wh-what’s wrong?”
“Actually, I should be asking you.” Dan Dimon smiled gently. “You look tense. Did you draw a bad hand?”
“Of course not. I’m very confident,” Jiang Huan replied. She wasn’t one to play dumb or feign weakness. Hearing Wen Li lament in the distance, “I’m dead for sure now,” Jiang Huan inwardly sneered.
The room buzzed with noise as everyone prepared for the game’s start. Bai Jingchuan stood at a distance from Jiang Huan, but something inexplicably drew her closer. It wasn’t because of his physique—though as she approached, she noticed the subtle detail on his white shirt beneath the black suit: a chest harness. In an instant, Jiang Huan was struck by how perfectly proportioned Bai Jingchuan was. The harness accentuated his chest muscles, making her wonder… what would they feel like? He hadn’t removed his gloves, and Jiang Huan asked, “Teacher Bai, it’s just a game. Why are you taking it so seriously? Those gloves are a bit much.”
“I never consider anything trivial. Everyone here should stay alert. No one is trustworthy in this room. You once said you wanted to meet me at the peak of our abilities, so this time, I won’t help you win.”
The atmosphere visibly tensed. Jiang Huan felt tears welling up—not out of sadness, but frustration. Why did he suddenly exude such overwhelming physical and emotional tension? She had grown used to seeing him daily, almost forgetting how captivating he truly was.
「Jiang Huan’s Favorability +100.」
Bai Jingchuan didn’t let his confidence show. Standing in the venue, he felt slightly dizzy. Quietly, he unwrapped three chocolates and popped them into his mouth to steady himself. The dice chimed in mockingly, “Who told you to train in boxing, archery, and running every day? Your stamina has limits, and you barely sleep. Be careful—you might crash again.”
「Mission 2-6: Carefully observe players’ emotions and make sincere choices at each stage. Physical contact will earn extra points, but don’t use items to force Jiang Huan.」
Bai Jingchuan frowned slightly. Previously, he had done everything to protect Jiang Huan, but now he was tasked with making his own decisions. Still, he wouldn’t force others—he’d rather capture those who tried. The dice teased, “Li Bode, this is good news. Before, you didn’t understand emotions well, but now you’re at Level C. That means you don’t need to be led by the nose anymore.”
He felt skeptical.
First Night: Jiang Huan’s identity was… a ghost. She debated whom to target first. Strangers made her uncomfortable, and acquaintances likely had roles too. Perhaps it was better to wait. There were nine rooms spread across the villa, and everyone avoided entering the same room with others—for fear of being killed. To play it safe, Jiang Huan stayed in the lobby, where seven people lingered, including Dan Dimon. He stood behind the bar, effortlessly multitasking as a bartender and host. After warmly bidding farewell to other players, he leaned close to Jiang Huan and whispered, “My first role is the White Angel.”
“…Are you telling me just like that?”
“Yes. I have nothing to hide from you.”
“But you need to survive first. What if someone tries to kill you?”
“It’s fine. This way, I can observe.”
Jiang Huan sighed. “Dan Dimon, it’s not a good idea for you to participate. You’d be better off as a referee. Everyone knows how smart you are. Killing you in the first round would eliminate a major threat.”
“It’s fine. I’ll swap my first and second roles, keeping the White Angel as my second identity. Either way, I’ll protect your life.”
“You don’t have to act like my guardian.”
“But making things easier for you has become my mission.”
The atmosphere grew subtle. Jiang Huan pressed her hands to her mouth, changing the subject softly. “Do you think my boss is out there fighting fiercely?”
“Oh?”
“He’s extremely competitive. If anyone dies tonight, it’s definitely his doing.”
When the first night ended, someone indeed died. Jiang Huan exchanged a glance with Dan Dimon, missing Bai Jingchuan’s darkened expression nearby. The dice rolled with laughter. “Looks like the cards don’t know their fates, but his face screams ‘Grim Reaper.’”
During the daytime debrief, everyone lied through their teeth. Jiang Huan sat silently, genuinely unsure of what had happened. On the second night, Bai Jingchuan disappeared again. Jiang Huan moved to the second-floor living room, where five people gathered. Another death occurred in her room, but no one suspected her. Jiang Huan, dressed like an unassuming, pure-hearted college student, made minimal contributions during the discussion. Meanwhile, Bai Jingchuan displayed strong leadership skills, seemingly guiding the assassin faction toward victory—or perhaps everyone was simply mesmerized by his chiseled physique and sexy appearance. Watching him clench his fists in thin black leather gloves, the sight of his knuckles left everyone dazed.
「Jiang Huan’s Favorability +50.」
Jiang Huan squirmed uncomfortably, feeling as though someone was watching her. When she looked up, Bai Jingchuan’s expressionless gaze landed on her, while Dan Dimon seemed to cast a protective net around her. Both appeared to be competing intensely, with her at the center. This made her sweat profusely—couldn’t they just focus on the game? Among these trendy men and women, she looked like a naive college student. Was there really anything worth paying attention to about her? Especially with two cards in her hand, did they really warrant this level of scrutiny?
「You have used the item ‘Land Float.’」
Twenty-five players remained uneliminated. Real-world time had entered nighttime, but by the third day, they were actively seeking water. Someone asked, “Does anyone feel seasick? This villa feels like it’s swaying a bit.”
“Is there something wrong with the villa?”
“Not at all,” Wen Li reassured. “I even consulted a feng shui master before renting it.”
Jiang Huan also felt uneasy, especially under the men’s intense gazes. But she realized something: when Bai Jingchuan and Dan Dimon shared the same space, they had a knack for making situations feel hyper-realistic and immersive. Her dizziness intensified. Her first identity was a ghost, and she had survived long enough—it was time to act. She had disliked Bai Jingchuan from the start; he was her first target. As for Wen Li, she wouldn’t hurt a girl’s feelings—at least, not yet.
Third Night.
Just as Jiang Huan was about to follow Bai Jingchuan, someone tapped her shoulder. Wen Li stood behind her. “I’m glad you came.”
“Of course I came. I said I wanted to meet you.”
“So did I. There’s something about you I could never learn in a lifetime—I envy you.” Wen Li smiled. “Just kidding. I hope we can become friends.”
People often meant exactly what they said when they prefaced it with “just kidding.”
After their conversation, Jiang Huan was accidentally pushed into a room. A stranger closed the door, apologizing, “Oops, sorry, I grabbed the wrong person.”
Under dim lighting, it wasn’t hard to guess what was about to happen. Jiang Huan slipped out awkwardly, searching everywhere for Bai Jingchuan. After entering four rooms without success, she grew increasingly frustrated. Now, every snowflake passing by felt guilty. Finally, in the fifth room, she found Bai Jingchuan eating chocolate. Locking the door behind her, she called out, “Bai Jingchuan.”
The sensation of seasickness persisted. Bai Jingchuan looked up casually, exuding an air of calculated composure under the dim light. “What is it? Planning to kill me?”
She did intend to. But Jiang Huan hesitated momentarily. He had helped her win a shooting game once—she owed him. Smiling, she winked. “Never mind. I’ll leave now.”
「Jiang Huan’s Favorability +100.」
On the way back to the living room after the third night ended, Dan Dimon approached her. “You’re dead tonight. Do you want me to save you?”
“Are you really the Seer?”
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Sure enough. Jiang Huan shook her head regretfully. “Dan Dimon, you’re too kind to me. It’s up to you, but I hope you’ll prioritize your own survival.”
His smile widened. “Alright, I understand. Though it’s a pity, I’d like you to owe me a favor.”
When dawn broke, Jiang Huan was eliminated as expected. Bai Jingchuan and Dan Dimon remained safe. Jiang Huan felt a pang of regret—her first ghost identity hadn’t killed anyone before dying. Glancing at Wen Li, she caught a fleeting smirk replaced by an innocent expression. Jiang Huan mentally cursed her, masking it with a fake smile.
Fourth Night Begins. Jiang Huan thought about the eye-roll she had given earlier upon drawing her cards. Functional cards were powerful, but drawing a civilian card could render the game boring. Even worse was drawing two identical cards.
Her second identity was still a ghost. This time, she wouldn’t hesitate against anyone.
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PS: Here it is! Sorry for not updating yesterday. Today, Xiao Zhang is adding extra content without raising the price! Welcome to add this story to your bookshelf and vote for recommendations. Let’s chat today too!
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