Though my Absolute Invisibility skill was incredibly powerful, it carried a fatal side effect: because my presence completely vanished, walking down the street made me like a transparent ghost. I could easily be sent flying by a speeding car or die in a forgotten corner, rotting away without a single soul ever knowing.
Drill Sergeant Shen Zhiqin’s passive skill, The Bodyguard’s Heart, was a custom-made cheat code built perfectly for me.
The moment Sergeant Shen sensed imminent danger heading my way, The Bodyguard’s Heart would automatically trigger, neutralizing the crisis a step ahead. Recalling the classroom incident where she decisively struck down Wang Miya, a chilling realization hit me—that girl had definitely been playing for keeps.
She was likely trying to hypnotize me, intending to forcefully "kidnap" my love.
The mere thought sent shivers down my spine. Thank gods the sheer volume of soul power within me held an overwhelming advantage. Otherwise, if I had become a slave to her mind, the cheat-mode life I had fought so hard to unlock after my rebirth would have been utterly ruined right then and there.
"Master! Let's book train tickets to the northern metropolis, okay?"
Even though Wang Miya’s personal ride was an incredibly expensive and comfortable Rolls-Royce Cullinan, I understood her mind. Driving was grand, but to her, experiencing the restless chaos of a packed crowd during a six-hour train ride was where the true "fun" lay.
Besides, a six-hour confined, moving space offered endless opportunities to "play around."
"Book it."
"Yes, Boss," Secretary Yan replied coldly, her fingers dancing expertly across her laptop keyboard as she swiftly handled the booking process for everyone.
The lineup for this trip to the TV station was nothing short of luxurious, with everyone perfectly assigned to their roles:
Me (The Soul Cutter): Possessing absolute concealment, remaining behind the curtains as the supreme commander directing all operations.
Yan Peiyu (The Appraiser's Eye): The team’s scout. In the grand cesspool of show business, she could see through any disguise and secure firsthand intel.
Wang Miya (The Hypnotist): The dark warlock brimming with purplish-black light. Backed by an immense soul value and a borderline psychotic yandere personality, she was a terrifying presence and the team's heaviest offensive fire.
Shen Zhiqin (The Bodyguard's Heart): The ultimate loyal tank, whose sole driving purpose was to crush any threat around me.
Xu Zhiping (The Manager): The entourage member possessing all internal industry intelligence.
The group boarded the Mavalivai Express, Train No. 1438. The train was packed to the brim, the entire cabin stuffed like a school of sardines pressing against one another.
"Master, this trip is so boring. Let's find some entertainment!"
Wang Miya slowly lifted her head. The corners of her mouth still glistened with the wet traces of her recent "office work," her eyes flashing with a volatile, unstable yandere gleam.
"Everyone, obey!" she called out softly. Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an irresistible magic.
In an instant, the eyes of every passenger in the cabin turned vacant. The bustling noise vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence. I watched the purplish-black aura seep from her body once more, enveloping the entire Mavalivai Express like a thick fog.
"For your travel safety, please ensure you hold tightly onto the 'hand straps' next to you. Be careful not to fall." Wang Miya flashed a pure yet sadistic smile.
The moment she finished speaking, the rigid passengers began moving in a bizarre, synchronized fashion.
In this hypnotized world, the body in front was the hand strap for the person behind. Men gripped the erect shafts of the men in front of them, while women were forced to endure the coarse groping striking from behind. I watched this man-made chaos with a cold eye: countless turgid cocks pressed tight against the asses of the women ahead, rubbing unconsciously against them with the rocking motion of the train.
The most tragic sight was the male-to-male pair on the left. A young, handsome youth held the hideous, wrinkled root of a sixty-year-old old man tightly with both hands. Their vacant faces betrayed a peak sense of violation and pale horror—a picture so beautiful I could barely look at it.
Beside me, even as my hand slipped inside her shredded panties to possess her at will, Shen Zhiqin’s iron military willpower kept her standing like a statue, guarding the lone sanctuary of peace at the epicenter of this madness.
Yan Peiyu’s pupils radiated a chilling, pale-blue light. She was operating like a high-performance server, attempting to import the detailed profiles of every passenger into The Appraiser’s database. However, the feedback data made her frown slightly—most of these passerbys didn't even have a three-digit soul value, and many hovered on the brink of single digits. In this world belonging to me, these people were mere dust drifting in the wind, devoid of any latent talent.
I shifted my gaze, turning to look at the manager sitting nearby, Xu Zhiping.
Her current state could only be described as a complete disaster. Caught within that chaotic human chain, her professional suit was torn to shreds, her private areas thoroughly handled by the vacant hands around her. I looked down at Wang Miya, who was still kneeling before me, working diligently on my shaft. Her eyes crinkled into a malicious, delighted arc.
I knew in my heart this was no accident.
This veteran manager had likely tormented Wang Miya plenty of times in the past, probably using her authority to force her into things she hated. Now that Wang Miya held absolute power, this "accidental collateral damage from hypnosis" was her most elegant and twisted revenge.
If Xu Zhiping had known earlier that the idol star she personally brought up was actually a ruthlessly sadistic yandere, perhaps she would have spared a bit of mercy for herself when barking orders in the past.
"Boxed meals, mineral water, snacks..."
The cart lady went about her duties, pushing her cart through the cabin thick with lust and filth. Her gaze swept past the passengers tightly gripping their "fleshy hand straps," yet she acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world—as though the absurdity before her was nothing more than a mundane daily routine.
My reborn body possessed a special constitution that required no sleep or food, but my entourage members were still creatures of flesh and blood.
"Secretary Yan, buy everyone a meal."
I gave a casual order and gestured for Wang Miya to implant a powerful suggestion of "boxed meals are the ultimate delicacy in the universe" to everyone in the cabin while paying the bill. Sure enough, once the directive was issued, every single passenger—from the handsome youth holding the old man's cock to the assaulted women—freed up one hand and began devouring their meals with ravenous relish, their faces flushing with pure bliss.
Watching this twisted spectacle, a cold chuckle rose in my mind.
So, the reason why so many food brands in reality were obsessed with celebrity endorsements wasn't just because of fame; it was because those idols standing at the top of the pyramid all carried a degree of hypnotic suggestive power. Through the camera lens, they forcefully implanted the thought of "this is delicious" into the minds of the masses. We only thought celebrity-endorsed products tasted exquisite because, without realizing it, we had all become slaves to their minds.
As the crowd immersed themselves in their post-hypnotic "delicious meals," I looked toward the manager beside me.
"Sister Ping, based on your intel, what major upcoming projects are preparing to shoot in the industry?"
Prompted by my question, Xu Zhiping’s vacant mind seemed to be reprogrammed. She lifted her head mechanically, her tone carrying an unsettling submission. "Master, the confidential projects currently under my grasp are as follows..."
My brows twitched as I listened. Why was everyone in the entertainment industry calling me "Master"? Just how oppressive was life in this circle that their sub-consciousness craved an absolute ruler to dominate them?
Xu Zhiping spat out the unreleased, confidential intel one by one:
The massive singing survival show TBS - The Big Song; famed director Wang Chonghe’s annual blockbuster A Dream of Splendor; golden producer Wang Yicai’s reality dating show Seven Days and Seven Nights; the military war epic The Defenders; and international superstar Yin Meishan’s new drama The Fruit of Love.
I casually browsed through this information, which was enough to cause an earthquake in the entertainment industry. Thinking there were still five hours until arrival, I treated it as mere casual browsing.
"Master!"
Wang Miya suddenly spat out my thick rod from her mouth, a silver string of saliva trailing from her lips along with an amused smile. "I want to check out Seven Days and Seven Nights. It feels like... it's going to be so much fun." The purplish-black light at the depths of her eyes leaked out almost uncontrollably, a clear omen that chaos was brewing.
"Manager Xu, take us to the shooting location of Seven Days and Seven Nights."
"By your command, Master," Xu Zhiping replied respectfully. "The show is filming on an isolated island in the northeast. It requires a helicopter. The optimal route is to arrive at the TV station first, then fly directly to the site from the rooftop helipad. I will arrange the transportation for you immediately."
The long five hours finally came to an end.
By now, the train cabin had been completely submerged in a wanton, filthy aura. Sticky white fluids were smeared all over the floors and seats. Aside from a few miserable-looking male-to-male pairs, most of the women's panties had been ripped to shreds, their drenched, muddy slits filled to the brim with a heavy, reproductive fullness.
The moment the train screeched into the station, Wang Miya flashed that sweet yet sadistic smile and softly snapped her fingers.
Snap!
Cognitive correction. Everyone’s consciousness snapped back into place like a broken guitar string being instantly reattached. I didn't even want to imagine what expressions those passengers would make once they regained sanity and looked down at the semen covering their bodies and their ruined clothes.
Before the deafening wails and horrified screams could erupt, I had already led my team out of the train in a hurry, heading toward the TV station without casting a single glance back.
Next stop: Isolated Island Dating Show.
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