"You really know Zhao Shang?" Brother Wu's breathing grew rapid, his entire attention glued to Chao Musheng.
Xiao Liu and Little Qi also stared at Chao Musheng with burning intensity, terrified he might deny it.
"He's over six feet tall, with double eyelids," Brother Wu rambled, recounting every tiny detail about Zhao Shang. "Thick hair, hardly ever smiles..."
"Is this him?" Chao Musheng still had a photo Zhao Shang had sent after returning to his hometown. He pulled it up and handed it to Brother Wu.
In the photo, Zhao Shang and Zhang San stood on a bustling street, both looking at the camera with joyful smiles, as if speaking to whoever was viewing the picture.
"It really is Brother Shang! And Zhang San’s here too!" Xiao Liu trembled with excitement, shaking Brother Wu’s shoulder. "This is amazing!"
All three of them owed Zhao Shang their lives. Seeing him unharmed in the photo, they forgot their roles in the dungeon, clutching Chao Musheng’s phone and staring at the image over and over.
Brother Wu’s mind was in chaos. He gazed at Chao Musheng as if beholding some omnipotent, miraculous being.
How absurd—after questioning countless players with no answers, he’d found the truth in an NPC native to the dungeon.
Not only had Chao Musheng led them out of the folded space in the cruise ship’s corridor, but he also had news about other dungeon players. Just what tier of NPC was he?
"I’ll send you the photo." Chao Musheng remembered taking a picture with Brother Wu late last night and adding him as a friend. He forwarded the image directly.
"Thank you, Mr. Chao." Brother Wu opened the photo, scrutinizing it repeatedly. "Brother Shang saved all three of us. We owe him more than we can repay. But lately, I haven’t been able to reach him. Do you know where he is?"
"He went back to his hometown." Seeing how emotional they were, Chao Musheng softened his tone. "Zhao Shang is a retired soldier—upright and principled. When he saved you, he probably never expected anything in return."
"His… hometown?" Brother Wu’s fingers trembled uncontrollably. He didn’t even dare consider what that phrase might imply. "When? Mr. Chao, please—this is crucial for me to know."
Chao Musheng glanced at Xiaojuan, who gave him a subtle nod. "Around mid-May. He and Zhang San came to our school for training. After passing, they said they were returning home, so I saw them off at the station."
Xiaojuan listened intently. This was her first time learning how Chao Musheng "sent players back home."
So the school dungeon Zhao Shang entered and the current cruise ship dungeon existed in the same timeline?
Brother Wu stared at the photo again. "This picture… was it taken after they got home?"
The complete wipeout of the school exploration dungeon was common knowledge. Brother Wu couldn’t fathom how Zhao Shang and Zhang San had survived the system’s purge. Had they also discovered the signal jammer’s use?
His mind swirled with confusion, but he didn’t dare reveal his doubts in front of Chao Musheng, an NPC who might grow suspicious.
"I think they sent it the day after leaving." Noticing their dazed expressions, Chao Musheng shook the gift box in his hand at Xiaojuan. "I’ll head back first. Message me if you need me."
"Got it, Brother Chao." Xiaojuan smiled as she watched him leave, then turned to the three still gaping at their phones. She reactivated the jammer and kindly reminded them, "Have you considered that when Brother Chao said ‘back home,’ he meant sending them back to their original world?"
"If I’m right, Zhao Shang and Zhang San must be from the same dimension." Delighting in their shattered expressions, she added, "Truth is, Brother Chao and I didn’t meet on the Moonlight Cruise. Our first encounter was at Kunlun Tower—the last corporate exploration dungeon."
"It’s August now. I entered that dungeon in July, and Zhao Shang’s school dungeon was in May." Satisfied with their attentive silence, she continued, "That means the exploration dungeons in this world follow a linear timeline, with no repeated scenarios."
"But according to the usual rules, shouldn’t the System keep sending players into the same dungeon until someone clears it?" Xiao Liu sensed something deeply wrong. "And when you say ‘original world’… do you mean what I think?"
Zhang San and Zhao Shang did come from the same reality, which was why they were the closest in the alliance.
"Maybe." Xiaojuan thought of Aze, who had vanished abruptly, and retreated into the shade.
The others hurried after her. "But how is that possible?"
"In this world, anything’s possible. This little handheld jammer already lets us slip free of the System’s control." She chuckled cryptically. "Have you ever considered that these so-called dungeons might actually be real?"
"No way. Little Qi and I got lost in a folded space on the cruise corridor. If Mr. Chao hadn’t appeared, we’d never have escaped." Brother Wu reflexively argued, "How could folded spaces exist in the real world?"
Xiaojuan countered, "Were you two sneaking around at night, trying to find clues to clear the dungeon?"
Brother Wu and Little Qi stayed silent.
"Players are the System’s pawns, invading this world. Of course, the world’s consciousness fights back." She sighed. "But even then, it only trapped you in a loop instead of sending horrors to kill you."
In any other dungeon, players would’ve been chased halfway to hell by now.
"Just who is Mr. Chao?" Brother Wu caught on fast. "He’s been in the school dungeon, the corporate dungeon, and now this cruise. That can’t be coincidence."
"I don’t know." Xiaojuan gazed in the direction Chao Musheng had left. "But I know he’s a good man."
After a long silence, Brother Wu studied the photo of Zhao Shang and Zhang San, then the one Chao Musheng had taken of him last night. "You still haven’t told me why you’re doing all this."
"I want you to join me in overthrowing the System’s schemes."
You’re the rebels I’ve been looking for.
"Secretary Liu." Outside the room, Chao Musheng ran into Secretary Liu stepping out with documents.
"Back so early, Xiao Chao?" Secretary Liu checked his watch and moved aside. "The boss is bathing. You can go straight in."
Noticing the room key in Chao Musheng’s hand, he realized his worries were unnecessary—the boss had already entrusted everything to him.
The VIP suite was soundproofed exceptionally well. Seated on the living room sofa, Chao Musheng couldn’t hear a single sound from outside. He placed the gift box on the couch and turned on the TV while waiting for Su Chenzhu to come out.
The TV program was rather dull. Chao Musheng took off his sun hat and got up to store it in the wardrobe in his room.
His phone vibrated—a message from the waiter he’d just added as a friend.
[Hello, Mr. Chao, this is Little Wu. Thank you for telling me about Zhao Shang’s whereabouts. Wishing you a pleasant life.]
[You’re welcome.]
Chao Musheng set his phone aside, wiping the fine sweat from his neck before deciding to take a shower as well.
Fresh out of the shower, he felt thoroughly refreshed. By the time he stepped out, Su Chenzhu was already dressed impeccably and sitting on the sofa outside. The TV blared with the voice of a male character angrily demanding why the female lead refused to spare him even a glance, why she wouldn’t love him.
The awkward outburst echoed through the living room. Chao Musheng scratched his nose sheepishly—he’d forgotten to turn off the TV before heading into his room.
"You always have different people around you. You’re kind to them, you smile at them! Why won’t you just turn and look at me, even once? Just once!"
Su Chenzhu turned his head and saw Chao Musheng standing there with a towel in hand, water still dripping from his hair. He stood up and fetched the hairdryer. "Why didn’t you dry your hair before coming out?"
"My hair’s short," Chao Musheng replied, sitting cross-legged on the sofa. Su Chenzhu plugged in the hairdryer and turned it on. "You shouldn’t neglect your health. Drying it properly is good for you. Let me help."
"I’ll do it, I’ll do it!" Chao Musheng quickly took the hairdryer from Su Chenzhu’s hands.
What a joke—letting his boss dry his hair for him? He wasn’t trying to stage a rebellion.
Watching Chao Musheng handle his hair with rough efficiency, Su Chenzhu hesitated, as if wanting to say something. Instead, he bent down to pick up the fallen towel and sat on the adjacent sofa.
After a few quick blasts of hot air, Chao Musheng ruffled his hair and turned to see Su Chenzhu smiling at him. He tilted his head in confusion. "Mr. Su, what’s wrong?"
Su Chenzhu’s lips curved slightly. "Nothing."
"Really?" Chao Musheng aimed his phone camera at his head and discovered several tufts sticking up like a silly little hedgehog.
"So Mr. Su enjoys laughing at people’s expense?" Chao Musheng put his phone down and tried to smooth down the rebellious strands.
"Let me." Su Chenzhu stood up and moved behind Chao Musheng, his long, elegant fingers combing through the messy locks.
The stubborn strands quickly yielded under his touch, lying flat and neat once more.
Chao Musheng shivered slightly, his scalp tingling.
Noticing his reaction, Su Chenzhu paused before withdrawing his hands with practiced restraint and returning to his seat. "You have very nice hair."
"Probably because my grandparents used to make me black sesame paste when I was little." Mentioning them brought a bright smile to Chao Musheng’s face. "My grandpa planted a whole field of sesame. During summer breaks back home, I loved stepping on the dried sesame stalks—they made this satisfying crunching sound."
He reached for an orange from the fruit bowl. Peeling it, he recalled that the oranges on this ship were supposedly sour, so he tasted a segment first.
It wasn’t sour at all—it was sweet.
He offered half to Su Chenzhu. "It’s really sweet. Want to try, Mr. Su?"
"Thank you." Su Chenzhu accepted the orange. "Do you like orange-flavored things?"
Chao Musheng nodded. "There’s an orange grove at home. Every winter, it’s full of fruit. I used to climb to the top of the trees to pick the biggest ones."
When he brought those big oranges back to his grandparents, they’d secretly take them to the community center to show off, telling everyone how he’d picked the largest ones just for them.
"Your childhood must have been very happy," Su Chenzhu said softly, his gaze warm.
That’s wonderful.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Chao Musheng wiped his hands clean before retrieving the forgotten gift box from the sofa. "Mr. Su, try these cufflinks."
"For me?" Su Chenzhu opened the box to reveal a pair of dark green cufflinks gleaming elegantly inside.
"I saw them while wandering around the mall and immediately thought they’d suit you." Chao Musheng glanced at Su Chenzhu’s shirt sleeves. "Want to try them on?"
"Alright." Su Chenzhu extended his arm toward Chao Musheng. "It’s a bit difficult with one hand. Could you help me put them on?"
"Sure." Chao Musheng shifted closer, removing the original cufflinks and replacing them with the new ones.
The dark green gemstones exuded understated luxury, perfectly complementing Su Chenzhu’s refined demeanor.
Once both cufflinks were secured, Chao Musheng admired them for a moment. "They look great on you."
Su Chenzhu withdrew his arm, fingertips brushing over the cool surface of the gems, his eyes deep as still waters. "Chaochao, thank you."
Hearing the unexpectedly affectionate nickname, Chao Musheng looked up in surprise, meeting Su Chenzhu’s gentle gaze.
"You’re only twenty. Calling you Musheng or Xiao Chao feels a bit too formal for someone so full of life." Su Chenzhu smiled faintly. "Since I’m older, ‘Chaochao’ feels more natural. If you don’t like it, I can call you something else."
"It’s not that I dislike it. It’s just that none of my friends or family call me that, so it’s a little unfamiliar." Chao Musheng reached out, pulling Su Chenzhu’s sleeve back to smooth out a crease. "Seems my taste is pretty good."
"Chaochao’s taste has always been excellent. I really like these cufflinks. Thank you." Su Chenzhu traced them over and over, as if trying to suppress the emotions surging inside him.
His feelings must never become a burden to Chaochao. Chaochao should always remain free.
[Ding. Current surviving players in this instance: 22. Players, please locate the Avenger quickly and assist them in burying this cruise ship before the instance concludes.]
The system’s notification arrived as soon as he woke up—eight players had been eliminated.
"Those eight stayed on the lowest level and never got a chance to move up," Xiao Liu murmured to Xiaojuan as she tidied the breakfast tables. "Players stuck down there will do anything to climb higher, even if it means making the upper-level staff slip up. Be extra careful."
"Morning, Xiaojuan." Chao Musheng greeted her as he passed by.
Xiao Liu noticed how the supervisor’s gaze toward Xiaojuan instantly warmed.
She paused, remembering that Xiaojuan had Chao Musheng as her golden ticket. Among all the players, Xiaojuan was probably the safest now.
Hearing Chao Musheng greet Xiaojuan, Su Chenzhu slowed his steps and gave her a slight nod.
Xiaojuan nearly bowed in return, startled.
The mysterious big boss actually acknowledged her? That’s the power of Brother Chao’s influence!
Brother Chao’s reputation—always so formidable!
"You’ve been working for a while. Go to the staff lounge for breakfast first. I’ll handle things here." The supervisor took the tray from Xiaojuan’s hands. "In an hour, we’ll need a few servers at the conference room entrance. You and..."
She glanced at Xiao Liu, recalling their friendship. "You and Xiao Liu can take that shift. Go eat now."
Xiao Liu had an epiphany.
If Xiaojuan could cling to Chao Musheng's coattails, then she could cling to Xiaojuan's.
When one person ascends to greatness, even their followers benefit—she was now reaping the rewards of hitching herself to a golden opportunity.
As she and Xiaojuan reached the entrance, she glanced back and saw the manager still smiling obsequiously as he watched them leave. She couldn’t help but shiver. Xiaojuan was right—this world might actually be real.
Because puppets in the game’s dungeons could never produce such perfectly calculated, ingratiating smiles.
As the two walked down the corridor, they ran into Brother Wu and Little Qi. Brother Wu paused when he saw Xiao Liu trailing behind Xiaojuan like an eager underling. After staring at Xiaojuan for two silent seconds, he said, "Xiaojuan."
The weight behind that name was something only he and Xiaojuan understood.
He hadn’t slept all night, his mind replaying the faces of allies who had died in the dungeons—some middle-aged, still longing for their families in the real world; others so young their faces hadn’t even lost their youthful innocence.
If the System hadn’t dragged them into this endless nightmare, they could have lived ordinary, peaceful lives—instead of dying with their eyes wide open, unwilling to close them.
When he first entered the dungeons, he’d met a kind older sister who taught him the rules and warned him about the treachery of human hearts. Yet she had died in an illusion conjured by the game’s horrors—because in that illusion, she saw her child. Without hesitation, she leaped into a raging river, clutching a pitch-black rock, murmuring her child’s name as she vanished beneath the water.
No matter how many dungeons he survived, he could never forget the desperation in her eyes as she jumped.
Over time, new players joined the alliance, while veterans disappeared one after another. They ran through dungeon after dungeon until even the word "home" became too painful to utter.
Logically, he knew Xiaojuan’s plan to defy the System was futile—like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. But he still wanted to try, no matter how slim the hope.
---
"Mr. Su, are you saying you’re willing to provide these cutting-edge patents to domestic companies free of charge?" The conference room buzzed with surprise, especially among the executives seated at the inner table.
"Yes," Su Chenzhu replied, lifting a hand to lightly tap his chin with a finger. "As long as they pass our qualification review, they’ll receive a royalty-free licensing agreement."
"Thank you, President Su." The elderly man beside him wore a complicated expression. "Many small and medium enterprises will be grateful for this decision."
The licensing fees for these patents were astronomical. No one had expected Kunlun to sacrifice such massive profits for the sake of domestic development.
"Shared progress is the only way to drive national growth," Su Chenzhu said flatly. "Let’s move to the next agenda item."
The room remained stunned, eyes fixed on Su Chenzhu with barely concealed eagerness—everyone wanted to drag him into signing agreements immediately.
Secretary Liu found it odd. His boss had raised his arm more than usual today. Had he slept in an awkward position last night?
During the break, Su Chenzhu was swarmed by executives, as were Chao Musheng and Secretary Liu.
"I heard the Song Group has several projects that could benefit from Kunlun’s patents," a rival sneered, sidling up to Chairman Song. He glanced at Chao Musheng, who was surrounded by fawning admirers. "What a shame—some people lack foresight and offend their most promising juniors. Now they can’t even pull strings to get ahead."
Chairman Song’s grip on his cane trembled violently.
"Did Young Master Song skip the meeting again?" the rival continued with mock sympathy. "Well, at five he pushed his aunt down the stairs. Now he’s twenty-five—who knows what he’ll do if someone here upsets him?"
"How kind of you, Chairman Song, to lock up your precious grandson rather than risk our safety. Truly admirable." The rival gave him a thumbs-up.
Chairman Song’s face purpled with rage before he finally collapsed.
"What happened?" Chao Musheng turned at the commotion, only to see a sea of smiling faces.
"Nothing, Mr. Chao. Please, could you elaborate on the patent application criteria?" No one cared about the unconscious old man now.
---
"Mr. Su." Only the inner-circle executives dared approach Su Chenzhu. Most were over sixty, standing around him like aging ministers deferring to a young emperor.
"Those cufflinks are exquisite, President Su," remarked a woman in pearl earrings, noticing his crossed arms and guessing he wasn’t in the mood for business talk. "They look both mysterious and refined—are they custom-made?"
To her surprise, the perpetually expressionless Su Chenzhu actually looked at her, his demeanor softening. His elegant fingers brushed the cufflinks fondly. "Yes. A friend gifted them to me."
She caught on immediately. "Then this friend must hold you in high regard. Only someone who truly cares would choose such a perfect gift."
Su Chenzhu’s lips curved slightly. "You think so?"
"Absolutely. Thoughtfulness is the heart of gift-giving. Without care, there’s no effort."
"You’re right." His chuckle was like ice thawing—even a fool could see he was pleased.
After the break, the woman received a partnership agreement delivered personally by Kunlun’s secretary.
She had negotiated three times before without success. Today, Kunlun had finally relented.
Putting on her glasses, she read the terms again and exhaled in relief.
Thank the cufflinks. Thank the kind soul who gave them.
Men, no matter their status, really do thrive on praise.
---
When the session resumed, Chairman Song’s seat was occupied by Song Cheng. Everyone knew of his feud with Chao Musheng.
By the end, attendees hurried past Song Cheng as if he were contagious.
Song Cheng’s face darkened. His secretary, fearing an outburst, whispered, "Young Master, the chairman is still unconscious. We should go to him."
"Chao Musheng is also Grandfather’s grandson. How can he ignore Grandfather being humiliated like this?" Song Cheng glared at Chao Musheng, surrounded by sycophants. "Does he have no humanity at all?"
The secretary suppressed a grimace.
Back when you nearly killed him in the womb, did you consider he was also your grandfather’s grandson? Now you remember?
"Go call Chao Musheng over," Song Cheng said through gritted teeth. "Don’t worry—I’ll be civil."
"Me?" The secretary pointed at himself, then at the crowd around Chao Musheng. "Young Master, I doubt I can even get through."
Song Cheng’s anger flared at his secretary’s incompetence. But since the man was his grandfather’s trusted aide, he swallowed his rage. "Forget it."
"Even his own grandfather fainting didn't move him, no wonder Young Master Song is so furious." In the corner, Thin Man nudged Brother Hu: "Brother Hu, now's our chance to win Song Cheng's favor. He's at his lowest point—offering help in need is the easiest way to gain his trust."
"Oh." Brother Hu looked blank. "But how do we earn his trust?"
"We give him whatever he wants," Thin Man said, already exasperated with Brother Hu's lack of wits.
Brother Hu pressed further: "What does he want?"
"The company's inheritance rights," Thin Man snapped. "His hatred for Chao Musheng boils down to the fact that Chao has equal claim to the inheritance. If we help him eliminate Chao Musheng, the company will be his."
Brother Hu thought for a moment. "Is Chao Musheng's father still alive? If he is, wouldn’t his father’s inheritance rights come before Song Cheng’s?"
Thin Man choked on his words, taking a long moment to reply. "This is just a side quest, not the real world. Who cares if he has a father or not? Just get rid of him first to win Song Cheng’s trust."
"And how do you plan to do that?" Brother Hu pointed at the bodyguards standing beside Su Chenzhu and Chao Musheng. "You think you can take them on?"
"I can't, but you can." Thin Man reminded himself internally not to lose his temper. "You have the super strength skill—are you really scared of a few NPCs?"
He still remembered Brother Hu’s legendary performance in a combat quest, where he had single-handedly defeated a hundred opponents.
"I’m not doing it." Brother Hu shook his head. "They have guns."
Thin Man: "..."
Who would’ve thought this big oaf would suddenly become sharp-witted at the worst possible time?
Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "Fine, I’ll figure it out myself."
"What good items do you have to deal with him?" Brother Hu asked curiously. "Puppet worms? Or talismans?"
"Puppet mosquitoes." To keep Brother Hu’s trust, Thin Man told the truth. "They can drain an NPC’s brain matter, but each use has a seven-day cooldown."
If Brother Hu hadn’t refused to help, he wouldn’t have wasted such a precious item.
"That’s amazing." Brother Hu looked envious. "Can you give me one?"
"It’s an S-tier item. I only have one." Thin Man brushed him off. "Next time. If I get another one in a future quest, I’ll give it to you."
"Alright." Brother Hu looked disappointed.
"Mr. Chao! Mr. Chao!"
As Chao Musheng stepped out of his room, he spotted a burly man lurking suspiciously near the corridor corner. He paused. "Little Hu?"
"Just call me Little Hu, Mr. Chao." Brother Hu shoved a can of insect spray into Chao Musheng’s hands. "Take this. I heard Song Cheng plans to release disease-carrying mosquitoes to bite you."
Sniffle—this cost him 50 points to exchange for.
"No need, but thank you for your kindness." Chao Musheng chuckled. "My room has an insect control system. No bugs can get in."
But would a quest’s bug control really work against the System’s S-tier puppet mosquitoes?
Brother Hu grew anxious, but since Chao Musheng refused, he didn’t dare expose himself. He reluctantly pocketed the spray.
"Here, have some water." Noticing Brother Hu’s chapped lips and thinking of the grueling ship work, Chao Musheng went back inside to fetch him a bottle. "Song Cheng has a volatile temper. Stay away from him. I’ll be fine."
Worried that Song Cheng might take his anger out on Brother Hu, he also wrote down his phone number and handed it over. "Call me if anything happens."
Brother Hu took the water and the number, his ears turning slightly red. This guy’s actually pretty nice. I should look out for him.
Fine. If Mr. Chao didn’t believe him, he’d just sneak over at night and spray outside the door. The only problem was—would a 50-point insect spray really work on an S-tier puppet mosquito?
For the water and the phone number… maybe he could ask someone for help?
Brother Wu? Or that woman nicknamed "The Grind Queen"?
