As mere observers, Bai Rou and the other three had initially been reluctant when they were forced to divulge countless details about the game.
But once they realized that, within this space, they could freely expose the game’s every dirty secret without being erased—and that even the system’s warnings could not get through—their moods gradually eased.
The four did not hide their analysis of the game, nor their subsequent plans, from them.
The more they listened, the more alarmed they became. Yet when Pei Liang spoke her final sentence, they all seemed to stop breathing.
They stared at the four of them in terror, unsure whether it was merely their own nerves playing tricks on them.
But somehow, the atmosphere among those four suddenly felt... off.
Were they about to witness an internal conflict in a relationship that had looked unbreakable only moments ago? Were they going to start killing each other? Would they get caught in the crossfire?
Was Pei Liang really going to kill both male leads, Chu Yebai and Gong Ran, at the same time?
They did not even know what they were worrying about when Chu Yebai gave a soft laugh.
“I don’t have a problem with it,” he said. “But how long would I have to be dead?”
There was a time limit on this sort of thing?
Gong Ran followed up, “Are you going to do it yourself, or should I figure something out?”
This one was even more outrageous—he was willing to kill himself just to entertain the final boss?
“I can fake my vital signs until they’re practically nonexistent, but for the time being, I have no way to overcome the issue of soul characteristics.”
“Based on what you said, those entities’ methods of verifying whether we’re alive or dead should be on a higher level. I’m afraid I won’t be able to fool them.”
Pei Liang said, “They definitely don’t distinguish life and death based on vital signs. The types of mission worlds are more numerous than you can imagine. Mere physical death-like states—or even actual death—must be common enough.”
“So—”
Before she could finish, the two of them darkened slightly and asked her, “Come to think of it, you said this isn’t your first mission, right?”
“How many missions have you been through before this? How many male leads have you ‘won over’ so far? The other worlds probably didn’t have this so-called obligation to set an example, so did you happen to—”
Pei Liang immediately knew what they were about to say and hurriedly cut them off. “No. What kind of person do you take me for?”
“I have a strong sense of commitment. I never keep one person while looking around for another. You two know that.”
The two of them were dissatisfied. She was as crafty as ever: they had asked three questions, yet she had chosen to answer only the least significant one.
Still, even without her saying anything, they could more or less guess.
With her blunt, domineering style still intact to this day, she had probably been the same in the past—throwing money in people’s faces with arrogant disregard, or simply taking what she wanted by force and making her so-called targets submit to her.
Not a trace of behavior that matched the game’s intended theme. No wonder she had been singled out.
Yet although there was nothing conventionally appealing to men about her personality, the brilliance of her soul was simply too dazzling.
Even if someone had started out feeling aggrieved and unwilling, they would most likely be conquered by her in the end. No matter what, she was bound to become a bold, indelible stroke in another person’s life—impossible to ignore.
And that was precisely why the two men were annoyed.
Chu Yebai had thought that accepting the role of a kept man was humiliating enough. Who would have thought that he was not even the first person to live off her?
He had the feeling that he had lost his uniqueness—though seeking uniqueness in being a kept man was rather pathetic in itself.
But what about Gong Ran? If even living off someone else isn’t anything special, then he hadn’t even had his turn yet, which left him even more depressed.
Yu Cheng opened his mouth, but in the end, the inexplicable discomfort in his heart kept him from saying anything.
Pei Liang continued, “In short, anything they didn’t tell you is definitely not worth taking into consideration.”
“But I’ve still drawn a conclusion. If you die, there are three reactions the game is most likely to have.”
“First, they could obtain conclusive evidence proving that I, the player, killed the male lead, and then erase me.”
When she had coaxed information out of that stupid system earlier, it had let slip some important details.
For instance, going by the setting of the previous world, the incomplete script should have revealed at the very end, completely without warning, that Han Weiliu was actually Situ Zhuo.
If the player were misled even slightly, she could very easily have failed and ultimately been killed by Situ Zhuo, who represented the dark side.
If all her efforts had come to nothing, then logically speaking, the person she should have hated most recently was the male lead, Han Weiliu.
Yet that player had clearly possessed the ability to damage the script. Instead of simply killing the male lead to vent her anger, she had redirected her fury at the players who came after her.
The traps she had suffered were places where subsequent players were very likely to fall as well. So why go to all that trouble?
Pei Liang’s conclusion was that she had been unable to do it. All she could do was rage impotently and drag others into it.
Of course, there was another glaring point that had been exposed long before this: players could actually damage the script?
The script had originally been an intangible thing. Pei Liang believed that even if she herself died suddenly, consumed by resentment, she wouldn’t be able to figure out how to pull off such a trick in an instant.
There was only one explanation: she had failed to receive the benefits she was supposed to get.
And the half portion of internal energy obtained through this world’s lottery made it even clearer. In truth, the connections between players were not completely severed every time they experienced a new world.
So, returning to the original subject, although that player who damaged the script had sabotaged the players who came after her before she died, she had not killed the male lead.
It certainly couldn’t have been because she had loved Han Weiliu too deeply. Otherwise, she would have realized long ago that Han Weiliu and Situ Zhuo were the same person.
That left only one explanation: it wasn’t that she didn’t want to kill him—she couldn’t.
The male lead was far more important than Pei Liang had imagined. So important that players simply could not kill him easily.
Pei Liang had not tried it herself yet, but she suspected that even if she developed the intention to kill him, she would fail for one reason or another.
Once the male lead died, the game would certainly react.
Pei Liang continued, “The second possibility is that if you die, this world will immediately be sealed off. The records will be submitted to the higher-ups, who will determine the truth behind your deaths, analyze the cause, and fix the bug.”
“But everyone knows what’s going on in this world now. Not only have the benefits the player was legitimately entitled to failed to materialize, but another game has infiltrated it as well. It wouldn’t stand up to scrutiny.”
“So I think the third possibility is the most likely: the world continues operating as normal, while the higher-ups send investigators here.”
“But when it comes to choosing those investigators, there’s still room to maneuver.”
The three of them thought it made sense. “Then, for the next little while, you’ll have to handle things on your own.”
Gong Ran asked, “When you say ‘death,’ do you mean we go through the formal process, or do we just die outright?”
Pei Liang looked at them. “No need to make things so complicated. The two of you just have to stay in Guan Qian’s space for a few days.”
“The moment we entered Guan Qian’s space, your existence disappeared. But just now, you came out again to help catch those four. The game’s judgment system will therefore stretch that time window.”
“You should have about five hours before your continued absence arouses suspicion. After all, this is an ability-based world, so the system allows more leeway here than in other worlds.”
Chu Yebai realized something was off. “How do you know that? Based on your own abilities, there’s no way you could pin the time down to such a precise range as five hours, right?”
Pei Liang smiled. “I promised the system that if it happened to let something slip while chatting with me, as long as no one was monitoring it, I’d give it a raise once I got back what belongs to me.”
“Ten times its current salary!”
Yu Cheng was startled. “A raise?”
Pei Liang nodded. “It said it doesn’t want to work hard anymore. It wants to live off someone else.”
Yu Cheng: “…”
“But how are you going to give it a raise?” Yu Cheng had only just asked the question when he realized the answer. “I understand.”
The Cannon Fodder Game was different from their Reincarnation Game. It was common for players to spend ten or even dozens of years in a mission instance.
Naturally, its point-settlement system was different from theirs as well. Not to mention that, through various means, the system could also skim some benefits from the players’ points.
Ordinary players simply didn’t have the nerve to do that. Points were hard-won and incredibly precious.
But Pei Liang—
Besides, since these were instance worlds, even if what the system wanted was intangible, it could naturally find a way to extract it.
Still, although Chu Yebai and Gong Ran were perfectly accepting of the idea of dying once—
The thought of sharing a room with each other for several days brought out genuine resistance and disgust.
“Can this girl divide the room into two sections? I don’t want to see this guy’s face. I’m afraid that when everything outside is settled and you come back into the space after a few days, you’ll find his corpse.”
Chu Yebai said, “Don’t be too surprised when that happens. No one could spend this long with him without wanting to kill him.”
Gong Ran sneered. “I don’t have that concern. Even if you come in after a few days and find his corpse stiff as a board, I’ll still be able to offer useful research to make up for the loss caused by this idiot’s death.”
“Don’t worry. From now on, to commemorate you, I’ll make telekinesis an ability that’s common everywhere.”
Chu Yebai: “Ha! You talk big, but you haven’t even managed to spread internal energy to the masses.”
“You’ll spread it after you’re dead.”
Pei Liang was getting a headache. It seemed that locking these two up for a few days would give her some peace and quiet as well.
She appeased them, saying, “Stop bickering. The space is only thirty square meters in total. If we divide it up, with your builds, you probably won’t even be able to stretch out your legs.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to chat and exercise together? I’ll put some games in there for you. So be good for the next few days, all right?”
Chu Yebai and Gong Ran: “…”
They seemed to have been fobbed off.
But in the end, all they could do was watch helplessly as the others left the space, leaving the four of them to glare at one another in mutual disgust.
“Wait. What is she taking those four with her for?”
The four of them had heard the entire plan. Killing them would have been the safest course of action. Once they left, the Reincarnation Game might scan their memories.
If the Reincarnation Game had colluded with some entity from the Cannon-Fodder Game, Pei Liang’s plan would be exposed in an instant.
But the other two weren’t worried. After thinking it over briefly, they understood.
That woman, Pei Liang, had clearly done it on purpose. She had never intended to hide anything from the four of them from the very beginning.
Seeing that only six people had come out, Guan Qian asked, “Aren’t those two coming out?”
Pei Liang said, “From now on, you stay with me. Captain Yu and I will protect you without leaving your side.”
Guan Qian’s face flushed. “W-Why does that sound so cheesy?”
“As for these four…” Pei Liang glanced at Bai Rou and the others.
The four of them trembled with fear. Ignoring the system’s frantic interrogation in their minds, they had assumed that, having overheard such a major secret, they would be killed immediately—like hostages who had seen their captors without their masks.
But Pei Liang merely said to those lying in ambush inside the room, ready to guard against an attack, “Search them for anything they have on them, then put bomb collars around their necks.”
“Go do some honest work.”
Not long after the four were taken away, a figure suddenly appeared somewhere in the harbor base.
He had arrived without making the slightest sound, and no one had noticed him.
He made his way to the residential area where Pei Liang and the other high-ranking officials lived. No one knew how he had evaded the tight surveillance and security, but somehow, he appeared beneath the window of Pei Liang’s room.
He gazed toward it, deep in thought.
Then he began compiling a work report in his mind—
“Player Pei Liang: all vital signs normal. Male lead Chu Yebai: whereabouts unknown, no signs of life detected. Male lead number two, Gong Ran: whereabouts unknown, no signs of life detected.”
“The situation requires further observation.”
This unexpected inspection officer did not act rashly. On Pei Liang’s side, everything appeared even more calm and unhurried.
She seemed to have completely forgotten the existence of the two pretty boys, as well as all the troublesome matters concerning the games, and devoted herself wholeheartedly once more to developing the post-apocalyptic world.
By now, apart from the sparsely populated northwest, the bases throughout the country had, for the most part, been unified.
Of course, it was impossible to open every base to the public. The environment outside many of the bases was still dangerous, and they did not yet have enough strength to clear it.
Everything had to proceed step by step. There was never enough manpower.
Still, these bases had escaped the chaos—or the arbitrary rule of a single faction—that had once governed them. With the harbor base providing food and promoting the restoration of production, people were finally no longer living in misery.
And ever since the discovery of pheromones at the very beginning, the harbor base had also been sharing its various research findings and technologies with other countries.
Little by little, the situation across the globe began to improve as well.
She had accomplished remarkable things in this world. Although the task she had been given was merely to win over the male leads, the game was called the Cannon-Fodder Struggle, after all. It was not difficult to imagine that these so-called missions might themselves be a conspiracy designed to confine players within a certain framework.
Of course, she had already proven that in the previous world: the points earned for changing a world were staggering.
Compared to that, the rewards for winning over the male lead were hardly worth mentioning.
The investigator studied the panel before him, his brows drawn tightly together.
“That can’t be right. With strength at this level, why was she rated as a newcomer—?”
He flipped through Pei Liang’s previous clearance records, his gaze settling on her first world.
A chef? That made sense, then. After all, it was a profession with limited influence, and the setting had been ancient.
Having seen that, the investigator decided to make contact with the player.
His figure flickered, and he appeared directly inside Pei Liang’s room.
At the moment, Pei Liang was eating. Recently, she, Guan Qian, and Yu Cheng had been inseparable. Pei Ning had gotten a little jealous after seeing that and had joined them as well.
The four of them were gathered around the table, eating food Pei Liang had made. The other three looked as though they might swallow their tongues along with it.
“Sis, with your cooking skills, you could turn zombie meat into a gourmet delicacy.”
“Don’t bring up something that disgusting while we’re eating.”
“What do you know? Gong Ran’s earlier research showed that the main component of a zombie’s stench is skatole—in other words, it smells pretty much like poop.”
“When skatole is diluted, it smells like jasmine. Dilute it even more, and it smells like ripe fruit. It’s used as a flavoring and fragrance ingredient. The candy, milk tea, and gum you love all contain it, and you eat those happily enough. Yet you’re still looking down on zombies.”
Guan Qian couldn’t take it anymore. “Pei Ning, are you trying to be disgusting on purpose? Why do I need to know any of this?”
“You’re always hanging around Gong Ran, aren’t you? He’s been missing for so many days, so why haven’t you gone looking for him? I’ve asked about him more than you have.”
Actually, Gong Ran was inside her storage space, being carried around with her at all times. If Pei Ning was jealous because he had stolen her sister away, she should just say so. Why make snide remarks?
“I’d also like to know where Gong Ran has gone.”
A voice suddenly sounded.
At first, Pei Liang and Guan Qian thought Yu Cheng had spoken.
But it wasn’t Yu Cheng’s voice. Their backs stiffened, and they jerked their heads up, only to see a bespectacled man standing behind Pei Liang. His expression was stern, and he seemed almost mechanical—like a robot.
Pei Liang, however, was remarkably calm. Even in this situation, she didn’t pause her meal.
Yu Cheng, who sat opposite her, had already shifted into a combat-ready stance. But Pei Liang only spoke after swallowing the mouthful of food in her mouth.
“Ning, Guan Qian, go back to your rooms first.”
Knowing that, as non-combat types, they would only hold everyone back, the two left the room.
Only then did Pei Liang stand and turn around. Looking at the handsome man before her, who seemed to lack even the faintest trace of human warmth, she asked curiously—
“A real person, or an artificial intelligence?”
“A real person,” he replied. “I am Investigator No. 0597. Due to the disappearance of this world’s male leads, Chu Yebai and Gong Ran, and the abnormal readings of their vital signs, which make it impossible to determine whether they are alive or dead, I hope Player Pei Liang will cooperate with my investigation.”
Pei Liang raised an eyebrow and nodded to indicate her cooperation. Yet before the investigator could ask anything, she posed a question of her own.
It was as if he were the one cooperating with her.
“Mr. Investigator, how is your combat power calculated in this place?”
The investigator wore a cold expression and claimed to be a real human being, yet he was so honest that it was almost absurd.
He pushed up his glasses and told Pei Liang directly, “Using the strongest person in this world as the benchmark, an investigator’s combat strength upon entering an instance world is restricted to the same range. This allows us to protect ourselves without going so far as to disrupt the balance of the world.”
Pei Liang exchanged a glance with Yu Cheng. “Is that so? Then I can finally relax.”
The investigator didn’t understand what she meant. Based on his observations over the past few days, Player Pei Liang was a person with a strong sense of justice who treated others gently, even if she had seemed indifferent to the disappearance of the male leads.
But then again, the male leads in this world were all rather peculiar. Their values were incompatible with the heroine’s, so it was only natural that they would eventually go their separate ways.
Though she wasn’t the sort of person who tolerated everything and everyone, what she had done for the people of this world was more than enough to make up for the harmless flaws in her personality.
Such as her chaotic romantic relationships.
All things considered, throughout the investigation, the investigator’s impression of Player Pei Liang had steadily improved.
So he didn’t suspect her of being devious at all. He was just about to get to the point when—
the non-devious Pei Liang suddenly put on a devious expression, and even her tone became strange.
“With combat strength restricted to that range,” she said, “I couldn’t feel more at ease.”
Before the investigator could react, Pei Liang lunged at him. With Yu Cheng joining in, they knocked him unconscious cleanly and efficiently.
Pei Liang called out toward the outside, “Guan Qian, come collect the new arrivals.”
Guan Qian hurried in and promptly stored all three of them inside her space.
After all this time spent tirelessly working and pushing her abilities, the area of her space where living creatures could survive had expanded a little further.
Still, Pei Liang was worried that the other two might run out of oxygen, so she had already stuffed in some mutated plants. They could provide oxygen while also serving as workout equipment.
Chu Yebai and Gong Ran were playing games to pass the time. When they saw Pei Liang and Yu Cheng enter, they looked like prisoners finally being let out for exercise.
The moment they noticed the unfamiliar man they had brought in, they realized that the fish had taken the bait.
“This is the investigator? He doesn’t look like the sort of scheming bastard who can be bought off.”
“You can read faces now? Move.” Gong Ran held out a finger, transformed it into liquid, and flicked the investigator across the face.
“He’s awake!”
The investigator looked cold and indifferent when conscious, but only after he lost consciousness did they discover that his eyelashes were unusually long.
They curled upward like two tiny fans, practically making him a monster of eyelashes. With his eyes closed, he looked strangely fragile.
Pei Liang felt a little guilty. “Did we go a bit too far?”
Chu Yebai knew at once that her old habit had returned. He sneered, “When you treated me even worse back then, I didn’t see you feeling guilty.”
Pei Liang spoke with righteous conviction. “How is that the same? Are any of you even good people?”
“This man didn’t guard against me at all just now. Bullying an honest person feels kind of wrong.”
Gong Ran’s index finger transformed into a liquid scalpel. “Got it. You can feel guilty at your leisure later. Out of the way. His body is extremely valuable for research, considering he’s a product from an entirely different dimension.”
The investigator’s eyelashes trembled. He opened his eyes—and immediately saw the two male leads they had been searching for, the ones presumed dead, standing there perfectly intact.
A look of surprise appeared on his face. “You’re—where is this?”
Before answering, Pei Liang placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “Before I answer that question, let me ask you one first.”
“Before coming here, aside from following the normal procedures, did anyone give you any instructions, either openly or covertly?”
Before the investigator could respond, Pei Liang reminded him, “Don’t lie. You should be grateful you’re a real person, because I still have a certain amount of humanitarian spirit when it comes to real people.”
“But you should also regret that you’re a real person. Unlike a machine, you can lie—and lies are easy to detect.”
“If I catch you lying, the methods I use to question you next won’t be nearly as friendly.”
As she spoke, Chu Yebai, Gong Ran, and Yu Cheng all seemed to be cooperating with her words, each revealing a menacing air.
Yu Cheng still wasn’t quite used to making an ominous face, but for some reason, it felt oddly satisfying.
He hadn’t used to be this kind of person.
The investigator’s reaction, however, was even more unexpected.
He looked around at Pei Liang and the others. His usually cold, expressionless face now showed both panic and embarrassment.
In truth, the changes in his expression were extremely subtle. But after being completely blank before, they were easy to catch at a glance.
A faint blush actually appeared on his face.
He said to Pei Liang, indignant and embarrassed, “You can’t use the methods for toying with male protagonists on an investigator.”
“Even if all of you had your way with me, it wouldn’t do you any good.”
That bold declaration left even Pei Liang stunned.
As for Chu Yebai and the others, they had always enjoyed threatening people with suggestive implications and putting them under psychological pressure. It had never failed before.
They were used to watching their targets squirm in humiliation and savoring the immense satisfaction it brought.
But this man’s reaction made all three men shudder.
Holy crap, did he actually take them seriously?
He looked so cold and aloof, but who would have thought he was actually a repressed pervert?
And not just any repressed pervert—his inner world was wildly active, churning with waves of yellow.
Pei Liang was silent for a moment before a bold guess occurred to her.
“W-where did you work before you joined the Cannon Fodder Struggle Game?”
“...”
Pei Liang grabbed him by the hair, wearing the expression of a sadist. “Speak!”
“An NP, extra-spicy, adults-only game.”
Pei Liang hissed. “Why does that sound like the kind of thing that would get investigated and shut down?”
“Like a certain Green River site.”
The investigator replied, “The game received too many complaints and eventually went bankrupt.”
So he had found a new job. But people from their game were always viewed with prejudice.
They were accused of having no sense of ethics, thinking with their lower halves, behaving frivolously, and corrupting the players.
So he had trained himself to behave like a cold, emotionless machine. He hadn’t expected that he would still be exposed.
Pei Liang thought, See? She knew it. Even though he was expressionless and radiated an icy chill, there was still something irresistibly sensual about him.
This guy looked like he hadn’t been on the job for long, and clearly had no connections in the cannon-fodder survival game. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have pushed him forward as the fall guy to frame her.
Still, that was fine. It also meant he might be open to being bought off.
So Pei Liang smiled sweetly and said, “I have a job for you. Interested?”
