"Mr. Chao?" The assistant saw Chao Musheng walking toward the back rows and, unsure of his intentions, quickly followed.
She watched as he stopped at the second row, bending down to pick something up. Hurriedly, she spoke up, "Mr. Chao, the floor is dirty—let me get it for you."
"It's fine. You're wearing a skirt—it wouldn't be convenient for you." Chao Musheng stopped her, not letting her intervene, and reached under the seat to retrieve the object.
"What is this?" As a staff member of the event organizer, the assistant immediately felt uneasy, worried it might be a hidden camera planted by an extreme fan.
"Looks like two small toys." Chao Musheng placed the items in his palm and held them out for the assistant to see clearly.
Relieved to confirm they were just cheap plastic toys, the assistant relaxed slightly.
The two plastic toys were crudely made—a thumb-sized plastic landmine and a finger-length plastic cobra. When shaken, the cobra's eyes even flickered with a faint red light.
Not only were they poorly crafted, but their symbolism was also terrible. For celebrities, the last things they wanted associated with them were scandals ("landmines") and toxicity—both of which these toys represented.
The assistant inwardly groaned, wondering whether this was the work of an anti-fan or some shady competitor. Now that a representative from Kunlun Entertainment’s headquarters had discovered it, the organizers would have to provide an explanation.
In this critical moment, the assistant was grateful that Mr. Chao was Chao Yin’s son—at least out of respect for his mother, he wouldn’t push the matter too harshly.
"The live broadcast is about to start. Have your team double-check under all the seats immediately," Chao Musheng said, closing his hand around the toys. "For an event this important, any mishap would reflect poorly on the organizers."
"Understood." Aware of the severity, the assistant promptly arranged for staff to conduct another sweep.
Both attendees and fans had to pass through security checkpoints, so weapons were unlikely to slip through. But small, troublesome items like these were harder to detect.
Many in the entertainment industry were superstitious. If an artist found something ominous under their seat, the fallout could be messy.
Unbeknownst to him, the security guard—who was actually a player—had no idea the props he’d planted early were already discovered by the NPCs. He never expected such a mishap; after all, NPCs weren’t supposed to notice inactive player items.
Outside the venue, fans swarmed in massive crowds. The guard, struggling to maintain order, nearly lost his hat in the chaos.
Just how many NPCs had the System spawned for this instance?!
The waves of screaming around him baffled him. These people couldn’t even enter the venue, and the celebrity NPCs couldn’t hear them—so why were they cheering so wildly?
And those posters and merchandise they waved around, huddling together in excitement—what was the point? Still, with so many fans gathered, the news of Song Xu’s death would cause an even bigger uproar.
He had planned the most entertaining death for Song Xu. Once the man startled at the sight of the slithering cobra and drew all cameras his way, the explosive props would activate.
A rain of flesh and blood, pitiful severed limbs, the horrified faces of beautiful celebrities, the panicked screams of fans…
He adored the terrified expressions of NPCs. Just imagining the scene made him tremble with excitement.
The red carpet segment started ten minutes late. Neither the artists nor the live-streaming fans knew why, and the comment section filled with complaints.
Only the organizers, staring at the pile of cheap plastic toys retrieved from under various seats, wore expressions of utter confusion.
Aside from the two under Song Xu’s seat, seven or eight more had been found beneath other popular artists’ chairs—snakes, wolves, ammunition, even a tiny assassin figurine clutching a knife.
If this was meant to be a curse, shouldn’t they at least have used higher-quality items? These dollar-store trinkets couldn’t possibly hex anyone.
"Aside from Song Xu, the other plastic items were all found under seats reserved for recently trending artists," one of the organizers muttered, grim-faced. With Chao Musheng present, they couldn’t even curse openly.
What a vicious—and cheap—tactic!
The Pumpkin Video executive mentally ran through their competitors’ usual methods. Other platforms loved to stir drama during major events, but even they wouldn’t stoop to something this tasteless.
Besides, many of these top stars had upcoming dramas on rival platforms. If anything happened to them, those projects would be shelved too. No sane competitor would sabotage their own investments.
"The red carpet has begun, Mr. Chao. We’ll pull the surveillance footage immediately. Rest assured, Pumpkin Video will give Kunlun Entertainment a full explanation." The executive wiped sweat from his forehead. Despite the venue’s strong air conditioning, he felt drenched.
"Good." Chao Musheng’s tone was calm. In situations like this, being too accommodating would only make him seem easy to dismiss. "I trust Pumpkin Video will ensure the safety of every artist attending today."
The executive’s heart sank. Though Pumpkin Video was the most prominent among the organizers, right now, he wished Mr. Chao would remember the other co-hosts existed.
The other organizers avoided his pleading gaze, lips sealed tight.
Weren’t you the ones hogging the spotlight these past few days? Now that there’s blame to shoulder, suddenly you remember us?
Swallowing his frustration, the executive escorted Chao Musheng to his seat before storming backstage. Spotting a security captain passing by, he unleashed a torrent of scolding.
The captain, bewildered by the sudden outburst, could only stand there and take it.
"There was an incident in the venue," a coworker whispered sympathetically. "You just happened to be in the wrong place. Don’t take it personally."
Ears perked up among the staff—those mopping corners, organizing props, picking up trash.
An incident? Had another player already made their move?
Phones buzzed in pockets as messages flooded the player group chat.
[Stop alerting the enemy!]
Alerting the enemy?
Seated in the assistant section, Wang Xiaojuan glanced at the message before scanning the central area.
She and the assistant had just settled in. Only a few lesser-known artists had entered so far, and the atmosphere was normal—no signs of disturbance.
Her gaze swept the room before landing on Chao Musheng in the front row.
He sat composedly, even chatting with someone beside him. If he was this relaxed, surely nothing major had happened.
"Having Mr. Chao here today truly lights up the room," said the man to his left—a heavyweight in the entertainment industry, someone even fans recognized as untouchably influential.
In the eyes of others, the usually stern and unapproachable tycoon lowered his demeanor in front of Chao Musheng, speaking with warmth and kindness: "The moment I laid eyes on you, Mr. Chao, I felt regret for the entertainment industry."
Chao Musheng, aware that the man was trying to build rapport, responded with a smile: "Regret for what?"
"Regret that you never joined the entertainment world." The tycoon, pleased that Chao Musheng had accepted his goodwill, softened his expression further.
Normally, he wouldn’t attend events like this, but he happened to be on a business trip to Linhai City today. Hearing that a representative from Kunlun’s headquarters would be present, he squeezed in two hours to make an appearance.
At first glance, Chao Musheng struck him as a born star—someone destined to thrive in the entertainment industry. His proportions were flawless, his features perfectly balanced. Even on the big screen, that face alone could draw countless people willingly into theaters.
A pity, then, that he was Kunlun’s representative—a man who didn’t need to rely on his looks, as he himself was the resource.
To be entrusted by Kunlun to attend such a high-profile event at such a young age spoke volumes about his future. No doubt, everyone in the room was eager to curry favor with him.
Just as the tycoon prepared to engage Chao Musheng in further small talk, he noticed the young man’s attention shift entirely to the stage. It was the red carpet segment, with no performances—just Chao Yin, the chief editor of TimeLight, delivering a speech to liven up the atmosphere.
As Chao Yin cracked a few jokes onstage, Chao Musheng laughed along, his eyes shining with unmistakable admiration and pride.
The tycoon was surprised. This young Mr. Chao… idolized Chao Yin?
He refrained from interrupting Chao Musheng’s moment, instead pondering how to leverage TimeLight’s cooperation. If Mr. Chao adored Chao Yin this much, he couldn’t afford to overlook the connection.
The surname "Chao" wasn’t exactly common.
There had to be some blood relation between Mr. Chao and Chao Yin.
Nephew and aunt… or mother and son?
Unfortunately, this Mr. Chao had only recently emerged at Kunlun, leaving little information about him available. Otherwise, he could’ve used Chao Yin as a bridge to establish ties with Kunlun.
Chao Musheng snapped numerous photos and videos of Chao Yin on his phone. When she finally took the empty seat beside him, he handed her a bottle of water, unscrewed and fitted with a straw. "Have some water."
"How did you know drinking like this won’t ruin my makeup?" Chao Yin accepted it carefully, taking a few sips. She’d been swamped all day, barely finding time to sit down and talk.
"At school events, the senior girls who wore makeup always drank like this." Chao Musheng leaned in and whispered, "Do you have to go back onstage later?"
"Yeah." She passed the half-finished bottle back to him. "I still have a speech to give. Are you bored sitting here?"
Chao Musheng shook his head. "If I weren’t here, I’d never know how radiant you look onstage, Mom."
"How radiant?" Chao Yin couldn’t help but laugh.
"Like you’re glowing." He gazed at her earnestly. "The most beautiful person in the world."
Chao Yin’s eyes grew moist. Afraid of losing her composure, she ruffled his hair lightly. "Such a sweet talker."
When Musheng was little, she often worked late, returning home long after he’d gone to bed. On the rare occasions she could pick him up from kindergarten, he’d be overjoyed.
Back then, guilt gnawed at her—she felt she hadn’t spent enough time with him.
But Musheng was always well-behaved, hugging her sweetly and praising her star-like focus at work, never once complaining.
He never went through a rebellious phase, either. Knowing her job was demanding, he never threw tantrums or begged to tag along to her events.
This was the first time mother and son had appeared together under the spotlight, in front of countless cameras.
"Look at this photo—isn’t it perfect?" From the many shots he’d taken, Chao Musheng picked his favorite. "I’ll send this one to the group chat later."
Chao Yin studied the image—herself, confident and vibrant, brimming with energy.
"It’s wonderful."
She smiled. Even now, she remained Musheng’s idol. How heartwarming.
Their interaction was captured by the live broadcast.
The red carpet livestream had three feeds: one for the waiting area, one for the red carpet itself, and one for the indoor venue.
With no major celebrities currently inside, the camera aimlessly panned around, leaving the audience disinterested—until Chao Musheng appeared onscreen. Instantly, comments flooded in.
[Smart cameraman. This is the moment to focus on the traffic magnet.]
[Who’s the woman next to the hot guy? They seem close—friends?]
[You don’t know TimeLight’s chief editor Chao Yin? Must be new to fandom.]
[Just a casual viewer here, but that guy’s ridiculously good-looking. Staying for the eye candy.]
[The man on his left is a heavyweight tycoon. And he initiated conversation with the hottie?]
[That tycoon’s a big deal in entertainment, but against Kunlun? Small fry.]
[What did the hottie even say to make Chao Yin light up like that?]
Realizing Chao Musheng was the key to engagement, the director cut to him every few minutes. Viewers watched as person after person approached him—some exchanging greetings, others snapping selfies.
[Oh wow, even that stuck-up celebrity is bending over backward to greet him? Weren’t his fans just claiming the hottie was clout-chasing?]
[And that other one too.]
[If this were a novel, the hottie’s first thought upon entering the entertainment world would be, “This isn’t even satisfying.”]
After walking the red carpet and giving a brief interview, Song Xu entered the venue and spotted an artist shamelessly asking Assistant Chao for a photo. A pang of jealousy shot through him.
Mr. Chao was Kunlun’s man—what right did outsiders have to hover around him?
He strode over, nudging the eager artist aside, and crouched slightly before Chao Musheng. "Mr. Chao, I apologize for the trouble my livestream caused you the other day."
"Don’t worry about it. Netizens love drama—they’ll move on soon." Noticing Song Xu’s unlocked phone in hand, Chao Musheng asked, "You want a photo too?"
Song Xu nodded eagerly.
Technically, they were distant relatives—but Chao Musheng loathed the Song family. Song Xu knew better than to bring it up or exploit the connection.
"Alright." Chao Musheng stood, pulling Song Xu up for a shoulder-to-shoulder shot.
"Thank you, Mr. Chao." Song Xu glanced nervously at Chao Yin. "And thank you, Chief Editor Chao."
To maintain his wealthy heir persona, he’d once mingled with Song Cheng. But after learning how Song Cheng had pushed Chao Yin down the stairs while she was pregnant, he couldn’t face her without guilt—though he wasn’t even sure why.
Chao Yin recognized Song Xu. She gave a curt nod, her tone neutral. "You’re welcome. Go take your seat."
"Got it." Song Xu hunched over as he found his seat, pulled out his phone, and posted a photo of himself with Chao Musheng on his social media, accompanied by a lengthy paragraph praising Chao Musheng.
He couldn’t care less about what the industry insiders would say about him.
What a joke—why weren’t those people clinging to Mr. Chao’s coattails? Was it because they didn’t want to?
[I bet Xu the mutt is going to flaunt that photo online again. That’s just how he is.]
[Lucky bastard. Riding the coattails of that civilian these past few days even got him a prime second-row seat.]
[Friendly reminder: Xu the mutt is signed to Kunlun Studios, and that civilian is Kunlun’s representative. Xu’s seat isn’t earned by merit—it’s Kunlun’s clout at work.]
Song Xu’s agent, watching the online chatter, hid in a corner, grinning from ear to ear. With so many celebrities walking the red carpet today, the fact that Brother Xu was dominating the discussion was all thanks to Mr. Chao!
Mr. Chao, you are Kunlun Studios’ savior!
He kept refreshing the page when a security guard silently passed by, startling him. "Who the hell are you? How do you walk without making a sound?!"
After getting a clear look at the guard’s face, the agent frowned. Wasn’t this the same security guard who nearly got into it with Brother Xu earlier that afternoon?
The security guard—a player—gave the agent a cold glance before turning and heading upstairs.
These useless NPCs were no different from meaningless trash once the mission was complete. He could crush them with a flick of his fingers.
"Freak." The agent shuddered, breaking into a cold sweat from that eerie stare. Only after the guard left did he mutter a few curses under his breath.
The red carpet segment ended, and all the celebrities had taken their seats. The fan section lit up with colorful glow sticks.
The security player’s lips twisted into a manic grin. The real frenzy would begin when the crowd was at its peak!
He opened his inventory panel and activated the item!
But after waiting for a while, Song Xu in the second row showed no reaction whatsoever.
What was going on? Had his item failed to take effect?
The player triggered the item several more times, but Song Xu remained seated, even chatting animatedly with those around him, completely unaffected.
No, he couldn’t panic.
The player opened the system panel and filed another complaint.
An A-rank item and a B-rank item—neither should have failed.
The system took several minutes to respond: [Player, no data indicates item malfunction. Please review the item manual and attempt retrieval and reuse.]
How was he supposed to retrieve items already placed under the celebrities’ seats?
Stupid system. Gritting his teeth, he glared at Song Xu and filed another complaint.
[Ding! Player has maliciously reported the system. 2000 points deducted. Please focus on completing tasks and reflect on your own performance instead of blaming the system.]
Screw you and your damn system!
Suppressing his rage, the security player descended to the first floor and noticed several people in the corner acting strangely.
Were they all players?
Already in a foul mood, he called over a few security colleagues. "Those people look like paparazzi."
[Ding! Four players exposed. Mission failed!]
A twisted smile crept onto the security player’s face. Adjusting his cap, he resumed his harmless, earnest expression before slipping into the backstage coordination area—a space safely out of camera range.
His gaze swept through the crowd before landing on Xiaojuan, who was sitting in her seat, engrossed in the stage performance. His expression froze momentarily.
How could she still be enjoying the show at a time like this?
The security player couldn’t understand it. Had Wang Xiaojuan lost her mind?
She wasn’t like this in previous missions.
By the time the event neared its end, with the celebrities gathering onstage for a group photo, nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
[Ding! A storm will arrive in 100 minutes. Players, prepare yourselves.]
[Ding! The one who stole the stars’ radiance shall face fate’s retribution. Can you hear the artists’ cries of fury?]
[Ding! Main mission updated: Fulfill the artists’ wishes and eliminate the man who stole their spotlight.]
The man who stole the artists’ spotlight?
All the players’ eyes turned toward the young man sitting in the front row, phone in hand.
His dazzling jewelry and striking looks made everyone around him pale in comparison.
So this was the final boss they had to face.
After the group photo, some artists went straight backstage to remove their makeup and leave, while others returned to the villa to change out of their formal wear, storing their jewelry in safes before hurrying off with their teams. Only a handful of artists with no immediate schedules stayed behind, waiting to depart the next morning.
The villa, bustling for days, suddenly fell into silence. Chao Yin massaged her temples wearily. Most of the artists had left, but as the event organizers, they still had loose ends to tie up.
Staff dismantled props while Old He stared at the refreshed mission panel. Unable to attend the banquet, he didn’t know who the "man who stole the artists’ radiance" was, but a sense of foreboding gnawed at him.
With the artists gone, the villa’s staff had thinned out. Old He couldn’t tell who among the remaining people were genuine staff and who were players, but the atmosphere had undeniably shifted.
Since the main mission updated, the player group chat had fallen eerily silent.
In the darkness, tree branches rustled. Old He knew the storm the system warned about was coming.
The staff around him, clearing away broken props, remained oblivious.
"I think I saw a storm warning earlier. Did any of you catch that?" Old He knew he shouldn’t interfere with these NPCs, but remembering Chao Yin’s kindness toward him, he couldn’t help but speak up.
"Storm?" The nearest staff member checked his phone. "No alerts here. Where’d you see that?"
A player nearby lifted his head, shooting Old He a cold glare.
"Must’ve been mistaken." Old He realized his warning had drawn unwanted attention. He set down the trash he was holding, feigning discomfort. "Sorry, need to use the restroom. Be right back."
He remembered which floor Chao Yin’s room was on. If she and Mr. Chao were truly mother and son, he had to warn her.
At the very least, he owed Mr. Chao that much.
"Where do you think you’re going?" Before Old He could reach the stairwell, two unremarkable figures blocked his path.
Old He pretended not to recognize them as players. "Just cleaning up upstairs."
"Upstairs is our territory." The two players spoke coldly. "Stay put."
"Stay put my ass!" A sudden kick sent both players flying.
Xiaojuan, having knocked them down, turned to Old He. "What are you standing around for? Come help me upstairs!"
The two sprinted toward Chao Yin’s floor as the windows rattled violently from the approaching storm.
"The storm is coming." Xiaojuan's expression was grave as she stared at the violently swaying tree branches outside the window. "This isn't a natural disaster."
This was a tempest conjured by the System—or perhaps the Main God—an attempt to seize control of this dungeon zone.
Behind her, the elevator doors slid open, and Chao Musheng stepped out. "Xiaojuan, what are you all doing here?"
"Brother Chao." Xiaojuan's gaze shifted to the three players approaching from the far end of the corridor, her tone tense. "Are you here to see Auntie Chao?"
"The wind suddenly picked up outside, and all the staff retreated to their rooms. You should head back too." Chao Musheng nodded. "I came to stay with my mother."
No sooner had he spoken than the three staff members at the end of the hallway suddenly sprinted toward him and tossed two objects into his arms.
Chao Musheng instinctively caught them—a paper airplane and a small sandbag?
"What are you doing messing around in the hallway at a time like this?" His voice was uncharacteristically sharp, edged with irritation. "Have you no sense of urgency?"
The three chastised players: "..."
Holy Main God above, there’s an NPC here catching S-tier items barehanded!
Main God, you gotta see this!
