Saturday arrived in a flash.
Sato, like a battle commander fueled with adrenaline, drove his dilapidated electric scooter, with three huge and futuristic silver combination lock cases tied to the back with ropes, rushing to the old residential complex where Nari rented an apartment.
“Suno!
Your divine artifacts have arrived!
Come and receive them!” Nari poked his head out the window, looking at the three items that resembled military crates, and his scalp tingled.
When he came downstairs, Sato was squatting on the ground, wiping dust from the cases as if caressing a lover, muttering, “My darlings, today it’s all up to you.” “Are those…
missiles inside?” Nari couldn’t help but quip.
“What missiles?
This is faith!” Sato’snapped’ open the first case, revealing neatly folded clothes, wrapped in black silk, exuding an aura of “I am expensive.” “See?
The highest weaving craftsmanship, every inch of fabric replicates the light and shadow effects from the game model.
These aren’t clothes; these are holy shrouds!” He opened the second case, which contained a long, silver-white wig, its strands so smooth they seemed otherworldly.
“Top-grade high-temperature fiber, purely hand-crocheted, even the hair roots have been treated for a realistic scalp.
Wear it, and you’ll be a born silver-haired noble!” The last case opened to reveal a sheathed longsword, the patterns on its hilt and scabbard exquisitely detailed.
“This…
surely it’s not real too?” Nari’s heart leaped.
“Of course not!” Sato said with a look that screamed, “Are you crazy?” “This is made by the best prop studio using high-density composite materials.
Its weight and texture are infinitely close to the real thing, but it will definitely pass security checks.
Wielding it, you’ll be that ice-cold swordmaster who slices the moon like a melon!” Nari looked at the complete set of equipment and felt like he wasn’t going to a comic con, but rather to assassinate some important figure.
Sato—Doraemon—carried everything upstairs and urged, “Don’t just stand there, my dear brother, hurry and change.
Let your brother witness the miracle unfold!” He pushed Nari into the small bedroom, while he himself paced back and forth in the living room like an anxious family member awaiting childbirth, holding a freshly bought bubble tea and nervously biting the straw.
In the bedroom, Nari looked at the pile of “holy shrouds” with an extremely complicated mood.
He took off his T-shirt and trousers and picked up the intricately structured COS costume.
The cold fabric against his skin made him shiver involuntarily.
One layer, then another.
When he had put on all the clothing and painstakingly donned the silver wig, he felt as if he had been encased in a thick shell.
This shell was exquisite and magnificent, yet terrifyingly unfamiliar.
He didn’t dare to look in the mirror, only mechanically tidying the hem and cuffs.
“Suno, are you ready yet?
If you don’t come out, I’m going to break down the door!” Sato’s urge came from the living room.
Nari composed himself and pushed open the bedroom door.
In the living room, Sato had his back to the bedroom door, gulping down bubble tea.
Hearing the door open, he shouted without turning his head, “Hurry, hurry, let me see…
Holy crap!” The last two words seemed to be squeezed out of his throat, as if someone had choked him.
Sato turned around, and his entire being froze.
The bubble tea cup in his hand made a soft “crunch” sound as he unconsciously squeezed cracks into it.
The next second, the cup slipped from his numb hand.
“Splat.” Brown bubble tea and black pearls splattered on the floor, forming an ugly flower.
But Sato didn’t notice any of this.
All his senses, his entire consciousness, had been stolen by the person in front of him.
That wasn’t Nari.
Or rather, that wasn’t the Nari he knew.
The person before him wore dark, flowing robes, and her silver-white hair cascaded like moonlight.
That face was still Nari’s face, yet it was entirely different.
The original gentle scholarly air had vanished without a trace, replaced by an extreme coldness and aloofness, as if she were a cold moon high in the sky, or a bottomless, secluded abyss.
She simply stood there, and it was as if the fundamental particles that made up this world had reorganized for her.
[God-Tier COS Succubus Aura, first activation.] [Passive effect: Concept Manifestation.
Onlookers’ perceptions will be forcibly distorted.
You will no longer be seen as a “performer,” but as “existence itself.”] Nari frowned after hearing the sudden voice in his mind.
What was going on?
However, before he could react.
He was made a little uncomfortable by Sato’s reaction.
He raised a hand to tidy the bangs on his forehead, but then he saw the person in the mirror.
Then, he too was stunned.
Who was that cold and stunningly beautiful woman in the mirror?
Those eyes were clearly his own, but at this moment, they seemed to contain a thousand years of ice and snow, looking at everyone as if they were inanimate objects.
That face, its contours were his, but put together, they produced an inhuman, divine sense of beauty.
This…
is this really me?
He tried to speak, to break the eerie silence.
“Sato, you…” A clear, clean male voice sounded, creating a strong sense of disconnect with the beautiful face in the mirror.
It was this slight sense of disconnect that gave Sato’s frozen brain a hint of a reboot.
Like a short-circuited robot, his body stiffly, jerkily turned towards Nari, his mouth opening and closing, closing and opening, before finally squeezing out a few broken syllables from his throat after a long moment.
“Na…
Na…” He wanted to call him “Suno,” but facing this face, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, it would be a blasphemy.
“Bro…?” That’s not right either!
How could he call this face ‘bro’!
Sato’s CPU completely burned out.
He looked at Nari, then at the bubble tea on the floor, and finally, he made a decision that left Nari dumbfounded.
He slapped his thigh abruptly and shouted in a desperate, tearful tone, “Sister!
Goddess Jingliu!
You smell so good!” Nari: “…” “Sister!” Sato seemed to have unblocked his meridians, instantly switching from a best friend to a fervent devotee.
He rushed over in three strides, but then slammed on the brakes a meter away from Nari, not daring to get closer.
“Oh my god, Sister!
Do you know how beautiful you are right now?
No, ‘beautiful’ is too superficial a word!
This is…
this is a miracle!” Nari was somewhat at a loss for words, caught between laughter and tears by this sudden behavior.
“Be normal.” “I can’t be normal!” Sato waved his arms excitedly, “I declare that from this moment on, I, Sato, am the number one member of the ‘God Su Protection Squad’!
No, the captain!
Anyone who dares to disrespect you, I’ll be the first to fight them to the death!” Looking at Sato, who was a conniving best friend one second and then transformed into a pure, obsessive fan the next, Nari finally realized that things seemed to be developing in a direction he could not have predicted at all.
Sato was still excitedly talking to himself.
“No, I need to quickly create a fan group!
The group name will be ‘Protecting the Best Sister Jing Liu in the World’!” As he spoke, he fumbled for his phone.
Nari held his forehead, looked out the window, and sighed deeply.
He just wanted to earn some medical expenses; how did he end up becoming someone else’s “dear sister”?
“Sister, don’t move, let me take a picture of you!” Sato raised his phone towards Nari, but his fingers were trembling uncontrollably, “No, my phone camera isn’t worthy of your face!
This is disrespect to Goddess Jingliu!” Nari looked at him speechlessly and said, “Shouldn’t we be leaving?
If we’re late, the comic con will close.” “Right, right, right!
Let’s go!” Sato came to his senses, “Let the mortals…
no, let the entire audience gaze upon your holy countenance!”