“Clang—!” A crisp, sudden clang, like a bolt of lightning, struck everyone’s eardrums.
The two groups, who had just been at loggerheads, instantly fell silent.
Everyone’s movements froze as they uniformly looked towards the source of the sound.
There, Takeshi, the Emperor of the COS world and the King of technical flow, saw his prop “Blade of Rebellion,” which he had custom-made for twenty thousand yuan and treasured as if it were his life, lying forlornly on the cold floor tiles.
And its owner stood rooted to the spot, like a statue under a petrification spell.
In Takeshi’s mind, the carefully prepared “spot-the-difference checklist,” containing thirty-seven common errors, was disintegrating line by line, becoming garbled, and finally turning into a blank 404 page.
Flaws?
First item: makeup.
The person’s face had a translucency that surpassed the texture of any foundation; that wasn’t makeup, that was skin.
Second item: wig.
Were the silver strands of hair growing from the scalp?
Each one reflected a different luster under the light, and the tiny fine hairs at the roots were clearly visible.
Third item: props.
That sword…
the sense of age on its blade, left by metal forged through a thousand refinements, was something no painting technique could replicate.
All the professional knowledge he prided himself on, all the technical standards by which he made his name, became a pale and ridiculous joke in the face of this “existence.” This wasn’t COS.
This wasn’t imitation.
This was a descent.
A king among mortals is, after all, a mortal.
When he truly faced a so-called “god,” he could do nothing but tremble.
He opened his mouth, all the harsh words he had prepared stuck in his throat, ultimately turning into a trembling murmur.
“This… what is there to compare?” “The costume, the makeup, the aura… it’s all a work of art, no, it’s a miracle!” His voice was soft, but in the dead silence of the scene, it clearly reached everyone’s ears.
Takeshi’s fan group, the “Takeshi Family Army,” were all dumbfounded.
What happened to their king?
Under everyone’s stunned gaze, Takeshi suddenly moved.
He abruptly turned around, faced his large fan group he had brought to “challenge,” and with all his might, let out a thunderous shout.
“What are you all staring at?
Are you blind?!” That shout, full of vigor, made the several followers closest to him flinch.
“Why aren’t you calling him Nari-sama!
This is a God’s descent, understand?!” “God… Nari-sama?” The fans looked at each other, their brains collectively crashing.
Takeshi no longer paid attention to them.
He lunged forward, actively blocking Nari, spreading his arms like an enraged bull protecting its calf, and roared at the surrounding crowd holding cameras.
“Don’t push, don’t push!
Everyone step back!
Step back!” “If you disturb Jing Liu, can you bear the responsibility?!” This dramatic scene left everyone dumbfounded.
The Kratos Coser, who had just been leading the trouble, now stood bewildered, looking at his boss, then at the silver-haired beauty protected by his boss, feeling his worldview shattered.
“Brother Takeshi… we weren’t here to…” “Shut up!” Takeshi interrupted him without turning his head, “From today on, I, Takeshi, am the captain of Jing Liu’s guard!
You are the first batch of members!
Listen to my orders, maintain order on site!
Keep a three-meter safe distance, did you all hear me?!” Although Takeshi’s “Takeshi Family Army” was still full of questions, seeing their boss’s unprecedented fanaticism, they could only instinctively obey the command.
“Yes, Captain!” Thus, an extremely surreal scene unfolded.
The challengers, who had been aggressively preparing for a “fight” a second ago, instantly defected on the spot, joining forces with their previous “enemies”—the spontaneous fans—to form Nari’s first human wall.
“Don’t push from behind!” “You can take photos, but no flash!” “Show reverence for Jing Liu!” And Nari, at the very center of this storm, was completely bewildered.
He stared blankly at the silver-haired man in the red trench coat, who was passionately directing the crowd, standing in front of him.
Who is this?
A new security guard?
Such attentive service?
Jing Liu?
Is he calling me?
At this moment, Nari looked puzzled.
Looking at the dense crowd, and the guard… had comic conventions already developed to this extent?
Does every Coser get a guard?
He felt like he hadn’t come to earn money, but had stumbled into a large religious pyramid scheme.
Not far away, Sato, hiding behind a fake cherry blossom tree, was convulsing with laughter, almost spraining his back.
He desperately pinched his thigh to keep himself from snorting like a pig.
“Holy cow… Takeshi… even Takeshi surrendered on the spot!” “What kind of succubus physique does my brother have?
Not only does he charm both men and women, but he even converts his peers into believers?” “No, I have to record this; this is a historic moment!” With trembling hands, he secretly turned on his phone’s video recording function and aimed it at Takeshi, who had self-proclaimed himself “Captain of the Guard.” Takeshi had now fully embraced his role.
He picked up his “Blade of Rebellion” that had fallen to the ground, respectfully cradled it in his arms, and then bowed deeply to Elder Asahi, who was waiting in line.
“Elder Asahi, please go first!
You are a senior!
After you’ve finished, we will follow in order!” Elder Asahi was also taken aback by this sudden turn of events, then showed a look of satisfaction, nodding at Takeshi.
“A teachable young man.” The order of the entire photography area, under the direction of Takeshi, an “insider,” became unprecedentedly orderly.
And this bizarre “surrender” incident was broadcast live to every corner of the internet through countless phone cameras… Meanwhile, a thousand miles away.
honkai: star rail game company headquarters, top floor CEO office.
Ayame expressionlessly watched the giant holographic projection in front of him.
On the screen was a live feed of the comic convention.
Takeshi’s entire defection was recorded in high definition by cameras, without missing a single detail.
His assistant stood beside him, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
“Mr.
Qin, as you instructed, we used our resources to boost the popularity of the #jingliu descends from heaven# topic.
However… Star Brilliance Media seems to have misjudged, thinking we wanted to sign a new talent, and also poured money in, intending to ruin the person with excessive praise.” The assistant paused, then cautiously continued his report.
“As a result… this unexpected situation occurred.
Takeshi, the top Coser, defected on the spot… Now the online public opinion has shifted from ‘Is this AI?’ to ‘Welcome Nari-sama’s descent’… Our PR department has no idea how to respond anymore.” Ayame did not speak.
His slender fingers gently tapped on the smooth office desk.
It was this silent gesture that instantly drenched the assistant’s back in cold sweat.
Ayame raised his hand and lightly swiped through the air.
The scene of Takeshi shouting “Nari-sama” at Nari was frozen, enlarged, and filled the entire screen.
Ayame looked at the silver-haired “beauty” in the screen who seemed completely out of the loop, and then at the frenzied “Captain of the Guard.” He was silent for a moment, then used the internal communication software to directly mass-send this video to all employees in the company’s marketing and public relations departments.
There was no explanation attached, only two words.
“Study.”