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The game’s atmosphere grew increasingly tense. Outside the window, rain began to fall, accompanied by an unexpected crack of thunder. The villa’s decor was European-style, with orange-pink pastoral wallpaper and large floral-patterned canvas sofas. Under the lightning flashes, what had once been a cozy ambiance turned eerie. The fashion-conscious crowd—regardless of gender—shrieked loudly and dramatically. Jiang Huan found this party more immersive than expected. Whether everyone was fully invested or forced into it by the stormy weather, it felt like no one could leave until the game ended.
First, she cornered Dan Dimon in a corridor. His innocent expression made her laugh. “Oh, come on, I’m not going to stab you. Why do you look so scared?”
“Considering how murderous you seem.”
“I have a question: Was it Wen Li who killed me?”
“The host only announces who’s dead. The White Angel decides whether to save them—they don’t reveal the killer.” Dan Dimon seemed curious. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just protect yourself—you still have one life left.”
Jiang Huan was about to turn and run when Dan Dimon grabbed her arm. Beneath the dim light, his silver hair exuded an unusual allure, and Jiang Huan almost forgot he was the rule-setter. She asked, “What’s your second card?”
“Just a civilian. Since you didn’t want my protection, I didn’t use the White Angel’s ability in the first round, meaning I was killed as a civilian. If you’re willing to be saved this time, I’ll still help.”
“Dan Dimon.” Jiang Huan interrupted, clearly displeased. “Do you think I’m too weak or incapable?”
“What?”
“I don’t need protection. Even if I’m a rookie, I want to win with my own abilities. You doing this robs me of any sense of accomplishment.”
“Foolish girl. I never truly wanted to protect you—I just wanted to watch you grow over time. Do you think I’ve been nurturing you since we met?”
But Jiang Huan was tired of hearing this protective talk. She mimicked holding a gun to Dan Dimon’s forehead. “Let me tell you something—I’m a ghost. Now I only have one life left. Don’t push this protective nonsense on me, or I’ll kill you right now.”
Dan Dimon chuckled, accepting her seriousness, and raised his hands playfully. “Alright, I surrender.”
As she pushed the door open and ran out, the chandelier swayed slightly. This horror cruise was becoming disturbingly realistic. Jiang Huan stomped her foot deliberately; the ground felt steady, but why was she dizzy? She wasn’t vindictive, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to eliminate players who were disrupting the game or not fully invested. Those dragged here just to fill seats deserved an early exit. At another corner, she encountered Wen Li again, seemingly flirting with a handsome young man. The lighting was dark and moody, fitting the deeper purpose of this party—to observe emotions and desires in others. In just a few hours, the suspension bridge effect or sparks in eye contact could lead to brief encounters and testing. Genuine hearts rarely exchanged for genuine ones.
Jiang Huan didn’t see it—her mind was focused solely on winning. She’d seen enough three-dimensional men to know as an observer: neither side had sincerity. So why were they exchanging glances? Thinking of the man who issued the challenge, saying, “This time, let’s meet at the peak,” she saw his competitive spirit even from afar. But she hadn’t decided to kill him yet. She needed to test the waters. Following him to the end of the corridor, Bai Jingchuan was descending the stairs. As soon as he stepped down, Jiang Huan shouted, “Don’t move!” He nearly stumbled, and she pinned the towering man against the wall—a textbook hadouken .
The mood under the staircase lighting was subtle. Jiang Huan swallowed nervously, thinking Bai Jingchuan could be ruthless during work, especially toward her. Bai Jingchuan didn’t hold back either. “If you’re this foolish, I won’t hesitate to show you no mercy when given the chance.”
“You…”
“Still not letting me go? Are you planning to kill me with your second identity?”
“How presumptuous of you.” Caught red-handed, Jiang Huan’s frustration flared, and she wanted nothing more than to take one of his lives. But under the dim light, Bai Jingchuan’s sharp features stood out—his lower lip looked incredibly kissable, and she hesitated to release him. With a teasing tone, Bai Jingchuan suggested, “How about this: if you guess my first identity, I’ll share what I know.”
「Jiang Huan’s Favorability +200.」
Jiang Huan’s gaze locked onto Bai Jingchuan’s eyes, slowly tracing his brow bone, nose, and lips, carefully mapping every contour of his face. Their usual banter-filled exchanges contrasted starkly with this moment of silence—it was… unfamiliar. The girl who once tugged at his collar on the bed now pinned him to the wall, their proximity close yet distant, her heartbeat racing wildly. When someone accustomed to control starts enjoying being overpowered, Bai Jingchuan realized this was the third time his principles had been disrupted.
He tried to shift his body, but Jiang Huan suddenly grabbed his wrist and pressed it against the wall. Bai Jingchuan waited for her to speak, but she stayed silent, locking him in place with her eyes. Tentatively, her fingers brushed against his wrist, gradually moving upward along the edge of his leather glove. Slowly, deliberately, she slipped her fingers inside—not forcefully, but with undeniable presence. Her nails and fingertips grazed his palm, sending tingles through him, making his breathing heavier, though he tried to suppress it. Turning his head slightly, he watched her delicate fingers explore, stopping mischievously.
“Do I really need to guess?” Jiang Huan licked her lips. “Seer.”
Bai Jingchuan smiled, full of admiration—and temporary surrender. A Seer carried a key, and thin leather gloves were perfect for warmth and concealment but revealed the shape of hard objects beneath. That’s why Bai Jingchuan often clenched his fists with the back of his hand facing outward. His only pocket was near his chest, squeezed by the harness. He thought, Thank goodness I didn’t put it there—otherwise, Jiang Huan might’ve boldly reached wherever she pleased.
Even the dice were impressed. “Wow.”
“So, tell me—what identities have you figured out?”
Jiang Huan’s curiosity was clear to Bai Jingchuan. “Wen Li’s roles are Genie and Civilian, but she swapped them for Witch. She’s still a Civilian now, but she killed you.”
“I knew it.”
Bai Jingchuan didn’t continue. Once “Mind Reading” activated, the villa’s eight hundred hidden intentions overwhelmed his ears. Still, he paid attention to sounds related to Jiang Huan. Some boys thought she was both pure and wild, attempting to drag her into a private room, but Bai Jingchuan intervened swiftly—no ulterior motives would slip past him. He also knew he’d die tonight, killed by a passing stranger assassin. But he didn’t care; petty malice in games was harmless, and the Seer role was burdensome for someone with his mind-reading abilities.
“I’m leaving.” Jiang Huan pushed the key back into his palm, reigniting the itch in her heart. “Next time, I’ll try to survive till the end, Bai Jingchuan. I want to beat you properly.”
Just as she descended the stairs, she ran into Wen Li exiting a room—an awkward encounter. It was just a game; losing one identity wasn’t something to get upset about. But that subtle glance irritated Jiang Huan. She preferred straightforward interactions, clear likes and dislikes. Expressing friendliness only to stab someone in the back—this kind of insidiousness annoyed her. She should’ve remembered this woman lived in the parking garage. Mold doesn’t dry out overnight, even under sunlight.
Wen Li smiled politely. “Having fun?”
“Of course, it’s not over yet.” Jiang Huan grinned. “I’ll try to survive till the end. Hope you do too.”
________________________________________
Fourth Night: Bai Jingchuan’s first identity died, and Wen Li was still alive, looking surprised. Jiang Huan calculated—if she remained a ghost, she could survive until the end because the witch capable of killing her was already gone. At 2:45 AM, with howling winds outside, some players had lost both identities and were spectating. The host announced that due to fewer remaining players, they’d close three rooms to narrow the scope. Dan Dimon snapped his fingers at the host. “Close the farthest ones—someone might get scared.”
His thoughtful gentleness earned applause from the girls present. Jiang Huan felt irritated by how Dan Dimon’s charm captivated more people, but he simply winked warmly.
________________________________________
Fifth Night: The central hall lights dimmed. Eliminated players whispered on the couches, while Jiang Huan, still a ghost, brushed past Dan Dimon. Descending the stairs, she noticed a girl stealing glances at Dan Dimon’s ceremonial smile. Stopping, she called out, “Dan Dimon.”
He turned around.
“Do you realize your protection is like a gilded cage?”
“Yes.”
“More often than not, it frustrates girls who want to fly.”
Dan Dimon’s smile faded, and he stared at her silently. A corner of the corridor wallpaper peeled off, revealing cracked, crumbling walls. After a few seconds, Dan Dimon smiled faintly. “Alright, I understand.”
On this overly gentle fifth night, Dan Dimon was eliminated.
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Sixth Night: Peaceful, with nothing happening. Wen Li was surprised Jiang Huan hadn’t targeted her yet. During debriefings, Jiang Huan argued with others but remained relaxed. Perhaps Jiang Huan wasn’t a dangerous role after all. Casually, Wen Li remarked, “This game is fascinating. It’s like walking a winding mountain path, navigating sharp turns and dead ends. But you, Jiang Huan, seem quite simple.”
“If you’ve experienced fantasies like mine, you’d understand why I trust people so easily. Though we’ve gained much, the cruise hasn’t reached its destination yet.” Jiang Huan replied with a smile.
________________________________________
Seventh Night: Fewer people remained—only five. Jiang Huan planned her move. Bai Jingchuan had survived many rounds, suggesting a special role. But most unique roles were already eliminated unless someone lied… Regardless, if they were to meet at the peak, she’d strike first.
“Oh my god, I’m so hungry! This game’s so long—how are the remaining players still so energetic? Got any chips left? Pass them over…”
People chatted casually on the first floor. Jiang Huan sprinted up the stairs. The area shrank further; she had to find Bai Jingchuan. The excitement of the game made her forget hunger and fatigue. Running upstairs, she took a few steps before the power suddenly went out, plunging everything into darkness. Instinctively turning to retreat, she was pulled into a room by a familiar scent and warmth. Reaching out, she felt the harness on his chest—it was Bai Jingchuan.
“Damn, the water pipes must’ve burst. Everyone upstairs, find dry wooden spaces to hide—the carpets are soaked! Oh no, the plumbing’s broken—call maintenance!”
“Don’t worry, everyone. Stay on the sofas. Avoid stepping on the carpets—they’re wet and might cause electrical leaks. I’ll check it out.” It was Dan Dimon’s voice.
Surrounded by pitch-black darkness, Jiang Huan grew anxious. “What now?”
This was likely a storage room, and the carpet beneath them could easily conduct electricity. Bai Jingchuan opened a cabinet door and gently lifted her inside. “Hide in here for now.”
“But you’ll be in danger too.”
“It’s fine—I’m not afraid.” Bai Jingchuan stood beside the cabinet, his voice tinged with irritation. “I’ll stay here.”
“But it’s risky if it leaks electricity.” Jiang Huan reached out to pat his shoulder. “Teacher Bai, I’ll be fine alone. Either go downstairs to find a safe spot, inspect, and come back for me, or get in the cabinet. If anything happens to you, I can’t explain it.”
After a moment’s thought, Bai Jingchuan stepped into the cabinet and closed the door, holding her slightly trembling hand—not out of opportunism but caution. Jiang Huan’s past dangers often involved water-related accidents , so he had to be vigilant.
The cabinet was cramped and pitch-black; they couldn’t see each other at all. The dice glowed faintly in the confined space as Bai Jingchuan remarked, “Have you noticed? You seem to have a peculiar connection with water.”
“When I was eight or nine, I almost drowned at the beach,” Jiang Huan said with a smile. “I guess I was just being reckless—came this close to losing my life. Funny thing is, I remember flashing an image of an anime protagonist in my mind right before I passed out. He wore a black cloak and came to save me. When I woke up later, I realized it was just a dream. Ever since then, I’ve always been drawn to that kind of heroic archetype—it’s incredibly… attractive.”
“That anime?”
“I don’t remember it anymore. But my first love complex runs deep. All the characters I create afterward carry some semblance of that image. As my superior, if you notice me repeating myself, please remind me.”
In the darkness, their breathing grew more noticeable whenever silence fell. The small space forced them to keep a certain distance, but Bai Jingchuan’s legs were starting to ache. Jiang Huan, who had been standing, slipped slightly on the wet carpet inside the cabinet and nearly fell. Bai Jingchuan grabbed her hand and placed it against his chest. “Lean on me.”
Jiang Huan’s palm pressed against his rising and falling chest. The harness around his torso seemed tight, and beneath his shirt radiated a searing warmth. Trying to make conversation, she said awkwardly, “You… you’re really in great shape.”
Bai Jingchuan didn’t respond. In such a confined space, with Jiang Huan’s touch lingering, any words would have felt too suggestive. The dice couldn’t help but chuckle. “Oh my god, Li Bode, your heart rate has exceeded 100 beats per minute! Calm down, or you’ll crash again!”
How could he calm down? His 4.90 rating had long expired. As a human now, the Executor’s innate abilities had been retracted. Willpower alone couldn’t suppress instincts. Once disrupted, there was no going back.
“You…”
Both spoke at the same time, neither able to continue. Someone passed by outside. It was Dan Dimon: “Alright, everything’s back to normal.”
Jiang Huan playfully flicked the strap of Bai Jingchuan’s harness. “Thank you! But tonight, you’re dead meat—I’m a ghost.”
Her cheerful voice barely lasted a second before Bai Jingchuan interrupted. “Do you think I’ve waited this long just for such an outcome?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m the Hunter. If you choose to kill me, I’ll take your life with me.”
“…”
“Or are you planning to beg me?”
At this moment, Bai Jingchuan finally felt the satisfaction of stepping into the real world as a victor. He wanted to win, and win beautifully. Even if it was against someone of the opposite sex, he didn’t care about their lack of excellence—he’d elevate them to his level and compete on equal footing. A small victory still brought immense satisfaction, especially when it involved Jiang Huan, a girl who had endured so much torment from the system.
“I’ll beg you, but I have another purpose this time.” The girl pressed her lips to Bai Jingchuan’s collarbone, tiptoed, and kissed his throat lightly. “Will this work?”
Bai Jingchuan froze—precisely put, he hadn’t expected this at all. Jiang Huan hopped out of the cabinet. “Sorry, Teacher Bai, but I need to stay one more round!”
________________________________________
Seventh Night: Bai Jingchuan was eliminated. On Jiang Huan’s final night of relentless killing, just as the night began, she grabbed Wen Li’s hand. “Sorry, tonight, I’m killing you.”
The victorious Jiang Huan held a ticket for survival, allowing her to bring one person along. Dan Dimon watched her with satisfaction, as though he had anticipated this outcome. Wen Li’s eyes twisted with jealousy, but she clapped politely. “Congratulations. This party was worth it.”
Only Bai Jingchuan stood with his arms crossed, seemingly dissatisfied with the result. He didn’t fully understand—was this jealousy and competition among women? Whether through mind-reading or Jiang Huan’s calculated strikes against him, the competitive spirit left him feeling like he was witnessing a battle between equals, which bored him.
One of the onlookers, a pretty boy with a loud voice, exclaimed, “Who will you choose? I’m so curious! Let’s line up and close our eyes, let her decide!”
“So tired, can we skip it?”
“What if she has someone she likes? Dawn has already broken—let’s see how this ends!”
Everyone obediently lined up and closed their eyes. Dan Dimon stood beside Bai Jingchuan, turning to give him a polite nod. Bai Jingchuan seemed to grasp something—after waking up from crashing at his store, surviving the night with soaked carpets and electrical leaks…
Wen Li also stood nearby. Clearly, the final choice wasn’t about her, and having her spotlight stolen left her unhappy. But as the gracious hostess, she maintained appearances. “Ten seconds—let’s count down together…”
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six…”
Jiang Huan pretended to agonize, running back and forth, pausing briefly in front of each person. When the countdown ended, the atmosphere fell silent. Though not everyone knew each other well, they had all become friends over the course of the game. Bai Jingchuan and Dan Dimon’s shoulders brushed against each other, generating static electricity that felt like sparks. The choice would be made through an embrace—the culmination of the night’s competition awaited its resolution.
The embrace unfolded tenderly, softer than any flirtation throughout the night, yet its final gesture carried forceful intent.
Dan Dimon opened his eyes, momentarily stunned.
Bai Jingchuan raised his head, surprise flashing in his pupils. He didn’t quite understand.
Wen Li hesitated to open her eyes, unwilling to face the result. This night had taken her from triumph to loss to defeat—a rollercoaster of emotions she didn’t want to endure anymore.
But the embrace landed on Wen Li. Jiang Huan handed her the survival ticket. “You seem to think we’re simulating and understanding girls by creating virtual roles to evoke false emotions. But when you truly experience it, the most sincere feelings don’t require understanding—they’re instinctive. This ticket—it’s yours if you’ll come with me.”
The first rays of dawn spilled between the two girls, like the carefully orchestrated finale of a brilliant performance. No one present fully understood, their exhaustion leading to scattered applause as the morning light signaled the end of the game. The artificial drama wrapped up as people lazily cheered. Dan Dimon picked up his coat, casting an appreciative glance at the two girls, brushing past Bai Jingchuan lightly. Only Bai Jingchuan stared at the scene, finally understanding why Jiang Huan had become his bound counterpart—perhaps perfect AI could be trained to reach a 4.90 rating, but a naturally empathetic girl like her had long surpassed 5.0. Those flashes of brilliance burst like sparks in dark corners, clinking glasses with sunlight at dawn. They were open, honest, direct—no hidden machinations, no concern for cracks and decay. Like plants growing toward the sun, even with wind passing through holes, they thrived stubbornly.
「You have used the camera function to record this moment.」
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PS: What a delightfully satisfying chapter! Welcome to add this story to your bookshelf and vote for recommendations. I’ll wait for everyone to chat today!
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