The busy signal sounded in the receiver after the call was cut off.
Wen Ruyu slowly put the phone down and stared blankly for a few seconds. His body was still rigid and tense; the whitening at his knuckles from gripping the phone remained, clear evidence that the fear from the threat hadn’t fully dissipated.
No matter how overbearing or forceful those people in reality were, he had never faced death so directly before.
Not that things were fine otherwise.
At least for now he still had freedom.
At least he had truly broken away from that group.
Wen Ruyu drew his legs up and curled on the sofa, arms wrapped around his knees, burying his head into the crook of his arm. The rental room was so quiet he could hear his own breathing.
He could almost hear the dull thunk of a blade entering flesh.
Those bloody, suffocating images circled his mind, but he forced them down. He was not someone who would easily be crushed, nor would he let his emotions overflow.
As long as it was not a dead end, he could keep going.
Besides, now was not the time to be afraid. He needed to calm down and sort out the mess in front of him.
He still needed to find the murderer who killed Yang Ruiqing.
This was only a dungeon.
He was only a Special Player.
After about a minute, Wen Ruyu slowly lifted his head. The delicate, striking face showed no excess emotion anymore—only a near-numb calm, with the faint redness at the corners of his eyes from the earlier tension.
He rubbed his brow with his hand; the coolness of his fingertips on his skin cleared his head a little. Then he picked up the phone beside him.
The screen had only just lit when several unread messages popped up.
The topmost was from Yi Wen Bu Zhi.
The earliest message was sent an hour ago.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Send me the audio.]
Probably because he hadn’t received a reply, half an hour later two more messages followed.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: ?]
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Answer me.]
Those three lines bore no extra emotion, but all carried an unquestionable dominance—identical to his earlier tone.
This man was clearly used to towering control; even his waiting carried an impatient pressure.
Wen Ruyu didn’t check anyone else’s messages. His finger hovered on the screen for a moment before he typed slowly.
[May Wealth Bloom: I answered.]
The sent notification flicked up, and Wen Ruyu intended to return to the main chat page, but before his finger could move the other party’s messages arrived instantly—
as if they had been standing over the phone, waiting down to the second.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: So you do know how to be afraid?]
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Why weren’t you afraid when you did the photo-theft scam?]
Wen Ruyu pressed his lips unconsciously; his finger hovered above the input box and he didn’t type a single character for a long time.
The original host’s online scam was a fact.
There was no point in denying it.
While Wen Ruyu remained silent, another message from the other side arrived, its tone leaving no room for refusal.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Break up with those people and I’ll help you pay your debt.]
Wen Ruyu’s long lashes trembled. His finger paused on the screen, then he typed a line.
[May Wealth Bloom: I... don’t like men.]
There’s no such thing as a free lunch; Yi Wen Bu Zhi wouldn’t help repay the debt out of charity.
Given his earlier demands, his purpose was obvious.
The original host did love money.
But he truly didn’t like men.
He’d been born into a traditional family and raised with conventional social education; he’d never imagined being with a man. He scammed men only because men were willing to spend money. The original host’s love was always for money, not for men.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: I don’t like them either.]
In the luxurious villa, the lights were off. The only light was the faint glow from the phone screen, which illuminated the man’s handsome profile.
He sat on a leather sofa, fingertips rubbing the edge of his phone as he read the chat. His face was dark and ambiguous, and complicated emotions churned behind his eyes.
He wasn’t lying.
He really didn’t like men.
Although he had never liked anyone, regardless of gender, he had never imagined he would like a man.
Yet last night, when he heard that voice, he froze—its clear coldness shaded by a seductive huskiness, like a feather teasing the heart, instantly sending an unprecedented, almost insane surge through him.
He wanted it.
He wanted to hear it again.
He even wanted to lock the person up and make them keep saying it to him.
And the voice was so good—wasting it on mere speech felt like a shame; if it were to pant...
The man was shocked by the sudden thought, but once such notions took root they grew like a weed in his chest, then exploded uncontrollably.
He could no longer suppress them.
His body even… reacted.
This had never happened before.
He checked the other party’s information again, holding on to a thread of wishful thinking.
A voice like that shouldn’t belong to a vain, photo-stealing scammer.
But facts are facts.
This person was that vain fool.
This person was the photo-theft scammer.
Yet that very scammer had such a voice that made him lose control.
The man hesitated and struggled, but in the end his surging desire won. He looked at the phone number in the profile and, as if driven by a ghost, sent that message.
This person was so vain that, given money, he would likely agree to any excessive request.
Moreover, the man held such a powerful lever over him.
Even if the person was unwilling to bend for money, being caught by a compromising piece of evidence would force him—eyes full of resentment and tears—to obey.
The man’s expression grew darker still. He typed on the keyboard with a tone of inevitability.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: If you behave, I can pay off your debt.]
Wen Ruyu stared at the message; his finger paused for several seconds but his heart did not stir.
[May Wealth Bloom: No need.]
The reply came almost instantly, a second-response that carried an unnameable danger—part probing, part mockery.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: What? Can’t part with your little fish? You’re not seriously in love with them, are you?]
Wen Ruyu lowered his gaze and answered honestly.
[May Wealth Bloom: I only love money.]
No sooner had he sent that line than a transfer came through—so fast he barely had time to react.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Transferred 200,000 yuan.]
Following the transfer came the man’s uncompromising commands; even the punctuation seemed to exude dominance.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Perfect.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: I have a lot of money.]
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Break up with them.]
Wen Ruyu stared at the zeros after that number; his fingertip froze and any attempt at refusal stuck in his throat.
Two hundred thousand was by no means small. The original host had been scamming cautiously for a long time and had never managed to scam that much.
This sum would be enough to repay everything the original host had swindled.
If it had been the original host here, he definitely wouldn’t refuse.
More importantly, after repaying the debt, the chance that those people would kill Yang Ruiqing due to exposure would be eliminated.
He could preserve his image and perfectly resolve the problem of that group of fish.
[May Wealth Bloom: Okay.]
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Good child.]
The man’s reply carried the satisfaction of someone bestowing charity, then he tossed out another order.
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: Go tell them right now.]
[Yi Wen Bu Zhi: I want to see screenshots.]