“Alright, alright, it’s about time.” Min Yue tilted his head to look at the protagonist, who was no longer screaming but had shifted strategies to deal with Jialuo.
Yu Shengyan was struggling violently, his entire body thrashing as he slammed into Jialuo in an attempt to break free—to no avail. Jialuo’s hollow eyes didn’t even flicker at the impact; he didn’t budge an inch. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Jialuo quickly loosened his grip on Yu Shengyan just enough to shift him in his arms before immediately securing him again.
“Little Anti-Protagonist, do you get the feeling that Jialuo is… special?” Min Yue squinted as he surveyed the scene, a realization dawning on him as he turned to ask Lan Tian.
Lan Tian was stunned. He had been thinking the same thing. Since the participants in this world were a mix of actors, NPCs, and locals, based on what Little Mengmeng had said, they were supposed to fulfill their tasks without arbitrarily harming the locals. But this Jialuo… he had no soul. For a local to have no soul defied the common sense of this world. It felt like a vessel prepared for a future actor, yet it didn’t quite fit, as the vessels prepared by Little Mengmeng were usually just scripted placeholders—hollow and lifeless. They couldn’t last long, and the actors usually returned quickly. Jialuo, however, seemed to have never had a soul to begin with…
“I have that feeling too, but as a newcomer, you’d know better than I do.”
Min Yue shook his head upon hearing this. “While I’ve been to many worlds, this one is the most volatile. You are a special case. So… I don’t really know what Little Mengmeng is planning either.”
Hearing that even Min Yue couldn’t fathom it, Lan Tian grew worried. “Could something go wrong? Are we… going to be stuck here?”
“Haha, that won’t happen. As long as the mission is finished, we’ll return. Though… this mission is going to be quite complex.” Min Yue offered a consoling smile, then leaned in with a cheeky expression. “Do a good job on the mission, Little Anti-Protagonist! Come on, bring your knife over and stab me a few times.”
Min Yue exposed his abdomen, already stained with a bit of blood. Lan Tian looked at him and picked up the knife, his hand trembling slightly.
“Just stab me again.”
“You didn’t go hard enough last time; go deeper this time.”
Lan Tian’s eyes widened in fear at the request. “No, no. I’m scared.”
Min Yue pursed his lips, speechless. “Hold the knife steady.”
Lan Tian took a few steps back, unsure of what he was planning, but gripped the knife with both hands and squeezed his eyes shut in nervousness. Min Yue made a quick calculation of the angle, took a step, and lunged forward with force directly onto the blade.
“There we go.”
Lan Tian opened his eyes at the sound to see the blade fully embedded in Min Yue’s abdomen. “That deep?!”
Min Yue didn’t care at all. “Don’t worry! I’m the War God; this little scratch is nothing to me. It’s just to scare the protagonist.”
Lan Tian looked as if he wanted to say more but held back.
“Let’s head out now. Drag me out; I’m too lazy to walk.” Min Yue lay flat on the ground, sprawled out. Lan Tian clutched his forehead—dragging a grown man was exhausting… but he had no choice.
And so… while Yu Shengyan was still struggling, a shadow finally appeared in the cave. He widened his eyes and craned his neck to see. Lan Tian’s face looked horrifying, covered in blood—partially Min Yue’s—making him look like he had crawled straight out of hell, radiating a dark, chilling psychic pressure. He walked slowly, dragging a person behind him who didn’t move a muscle, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.
In this scene, he truly looked like a hellish grim reaper. Yu Shengyan froze, his struggling ceasing entirely.
Lan Tian frowned secretly. So heavy… but it’s for the sake of scaring the protagonist…
“Ma”
Before Yu Shengyan could finish, he caught sight of the terrifyingly deep knife buried in his Master’s abdomen. Min Yue had his eyes closed tight. Lan Tian’s expression remained frozen in icy indifference.
Yu Shengyan couldn’t accept it. In his memories, his First Senior Brother had always deeply revered his Master. And now… he had personally struck him down. If—if Lan Tian ever finds out he killed the Master, what will happen to him? Yu Shengyan had completely internalized the First Senior Brother’s perspective: pain, regret, extreme guilt, and a lack of peace even in death.
No, no. Yu Shengyan bowed his head; he could already see Lan Tian clutching his head, weeping in the depths of hell. He had already made one mistake; he couldn’t let things get any worse. He couldn’t let his First Senior Brother be restless even after death. Mustn’t, mustn’t.
Suddenly, something seemed to bloom within his heart. It was… a light. A dazzling, brilliant light. He paused, closing his eyes to look closely at that radiance. Inside the light were images of the First Senior Brother working tirelessly to care for him as a child, the First Senior Brother secretly watching him, and the First Senior Brother shielding him from harm.
He understood. He reached total enlightenment. That light was called: Protection.
Jialuo was startled to find that the person he was holding was growing hotter and hotter, to the point where his own hands felt severely burned. Yet, he didn’t let go; he had to complete the Master’s mission. But he realized… he was reaching his limit. It wasn’t just the burning sensation on his hands; his power was being suppressed.
The little squirrel, sensing Jialuo was in danger, scrambled out and pushed hard against Jialuo’s hand with its soft, round paws. Simultaneously… the light in Yu Shengyan’s heart grew stronger and wider, spreading out beyond his body.
“Ah”
Jialuo was caught off guard and blasted away by the light. Lan Tian and Min Yue were both stunned.
Lan Tian hurriedly asked the “Main Plot Boss”: “What’s happening? What’s wrong with the protagonist? How did he suddenly become so strong?”
Main Plot Boss: “I have no idea either.”
The light didn’t stop, swallowing Yu Shengyan whole. Whoosh— A pair of white feathered wings burst through the light, as if emerging from a cocoon. Lan Tian’s jaw dropped.
This… this… this is an immortal! What the hell?
Before he could process anything, Yu Shengyan’s white wings bloomed fully; he closed his eyes, his expression gentle, looking like a beautiful, translucent butterfly amidst flowers. But… soon after, those wings dissolved into bubbles, fading away as they seeped into Yu Shengyan’s body.
Suddenly, Yu Shengyan snapped his eyes open and looked at Lan Tian. His pupils burned with a brilliant, fiery light. Lan Tian blinked. In the next instant, a surge of powerful force struck him, sending him flying into the wall.
“Ouch.” Lan Tian had been caught off guard; he didn’t understand where the force came from. He watched Yu Shengyan stand up slowly, his eyes still shining with that brilliance, staring at him.
Lan Tian looked back, and instantly regretted it. Those pupils were like a whirlpool; he was irresistibly drawn in, and a wave of intense dizziness washed over him.
Lan Tian hurriedly called for Little Mengmeng. Little Mengmeng, however, expressed her inability to help, as dizziness was not a “pain sensation” and therefore outside her jurisdiction…
Lan Tian could only give her the mental equivalent of a middle finger. Finally, he could only alert the Main Plot Boss. “I’m counting on you!”
And then he passed out…
Yu Shengyan immediately averted his gaze, closed his eyes, and lunged toward where Lan Tian had fallen, catching him. Meanwhile… Jialuo seemed pinned to the floor, unable to rise. And Min Yue… his wound was wrapped in a beam of light, and he was slowly beginning to recover. Min Yue nearly dropped his jaw in shock, but he had to keep his eyes closed and play the part.
When Lan Tian woke up, he found that he had been tied up…