Awakened identities inevitably affect the human body to some extent.
Su Er wasn't afraid of sunlight, but he felt a slight aversion to the warmth of the morning sun. As a result, he woke up exceptionally early the next day, with no desire to go back to sleep.
According to last night’s plan, he and Ji Heng were heading to the hotel today.
The dorm room across from theirs was open, windows wide to keep the room ventilated.
Su Er caught the faint scent of blood in the air. The boy sitting on the bed had a wound on his forehead.
“Going to the infirmary?” Since he’d seen it, it didn’t feel right to just walk past.
“It’s just a scrape, nothing serious.” The boy looked up. His hairstyle gave Su Er a sense of familiarity—it was reminiscent of Zhao Sanliang’s flashy look.
“You two heading out?” the boy asked.
Su Er nodded. “To the hotel.”
“Take me with you.” He was straightforward, extending a hand. “Zhao Banjin, thirty years old.”
Because the instance had reverted everyone’s physical appearance to their younger selves, people had to include their age when introducing themselves.
Su Er gave a light handshake, sensing that the introduction was directed at him alone.
“He’s Zhao Sanliang’s cousin,” Ji Heng said from behind.
Su Er was slightly surprised.
Zhao Banjin smiled. “Pretty unlucky, huh? Getting dragged into the same game as your cousin.”
Su Er replied sincerely, “My math teacher is in the same organization as me.”
“……” Zhao Banjin gave him a look full of sympathy.
It was still early. Most players would be using this time to rest. Later in the instance, staying up for days at a time would become the norm. Only four or five people could be seen in the hallways.
In the extreme quiet, even whispers could be heard clearly.
As they descended the stairs, Zhao Banjin finally spoke in a normal voice: “There’s something dirty in the dorm, but it’s not very strong.”
Su Er glanced at the wound on his forehead but didn’t call him out.
Ji Heng asked, “What identity did you awaken?”
“Saintess. A group called the Lightbringers even tried to recruit me.”
The Lightbringers often provided free medical care for impoverished children and enjoyed a good public reputation.
For a man to awaken as a Saintess was rare, but Zhao Banjin himself seemed quite pleased. Healing abilities were perfect for building connections.
Ji Heng said, “You could infiltrate them and take a look.”
“Infiltrate?” Zhao Banjin caught the implication. “You mean it’s dangerous?”
Ji Heng replied, “A player party getting wiped out isn’t unusual, but for a host to die? That can’t be done by one person.”
During the training course, Mister Pu Liu had also emphasized the city’s top three factions: Vampires, Werewolves, and the Lightbringers.
Zhao Banjin said seriously, “I’ll keep a close eye.”
The city began its day early. The streets were filled with people rushing about for work. Su Er even saw some heading to tutoring classes, giving him an odd sense of returning to the real world.
“Hello,” the receptionist greeted them with a sweet smile—only for it to fall the moment she saw Su Er.
Su Er said, “Room 303, please.”
Receptionist: “Sir…”
Su Er handed over his ID. “I’m of age.”
“I know,” she said with a soothing tone. “It’s just, you were taken in from here only yesterday. If it gets raided again today…”
She glanced meaningfully at the two other boys and inwardly sighed. Why couldn’t they just keep a low profile and bring fewer people?
Su Er replied, “That was a misunderstanding. The school’s air conditioner broke. We booked a room to do homework.”
After some back-and-forth, the receptionist gave in and handed over the key with a resigned heart.
Since there had recently been a death in the hotel, business had taken a hit. Room 303 had been vacant for quite a while. Su Er’s return broke the dry spell.
The room was clean—housekeeping had kept up with maintenance.
“Yesterday, less than five minutes after I entered, my succubus powers went out of control.”
Ji Heng said, “Try to recall everything from that time. Don’t skip details.”
Su Er stepped back, retracing his movements: “I threw out some trash after coming in, took out snacks and alcohol, tried to get two people drunk to get info. Then I drew the curtains to block outside view…”
“Wait.” Ji Heng interrupted him.
Su Er turned to look at him.
Zhao Banjin moved even quicker, walking over to the window. After a moment, he found that the heavy curtains were dusted with some glittering powder. He scraped a bit off and held it under his nose.
“It's good stuff.”
“Hmm?”
Zhao Banjin said, “Just from a slight whiff, my healing ability is enhanced.”
But because the incubus’s charm skills were rather unique, and had triggered problems before, Su Er couldn't help but view the whole situation with a conspiratorial mindset.
Zhao Banjin stood up. “It was probably brought in by a player, just in case.”
Su Er’s expression was complex. “Too bad they still ended up dead.”
According to the documents, the player who stayed in this room was named Sen Huanhuan. Her death was bizarre—when she was found, her neck had been completely twisted off. One of the students who came to the hotel with Su Er had mentioned that the rumors described the expression on her face as twisted in pain—like she'd died from sheer agony.
Now that they had found the cause of the power going out of control, there was no reason to linger.
Just as they were about to close the door, Ji Heng suddenly paused. “Sen Huanhuan survived nearly until the end.”
Zhao Banjin agreed casually, “She must’ve been powerful.”
Ji Heng said, “More than powerful—she was smart.”
From the residual powder, it was clear Sen Huanhuan had made thorough preparations.
Hearing this, Su Er pulled out the dossier Mister Pu Liu had given him. “The host disappeared on day five. Sen Huanhuan died at noon on day six. The host's body was found that same night—but the time of death isn’t listed.”
Zhao Banjin's face changed, and a possibility crossed his mind: if the host had already been attacked the day he vanished, then Sen Huanhuan might’ve been the very last survivor.
“The host disappears, her teammates die—she had to know her odds of surviving were next to none.” After a moment of reflection, Su Er said, “Why go through the trouble of moving to a hotel?”
At least the dorms were full of people during the day—the danger only increased at night. But the hotel was unsafe around the clock. The fact that Sen Huanhuan died at noon proved that.
Ji Heng had already started searching the room more carefully.
Zhao Banjin followed suit.
Su Er casually flipped through some things on the desk. “What are you guys looking for?”
Zhao Banjin had always thought Su Er was quick-witted, so he found it funny that Su Er was a step behind here. “If you knew you were about to die, what would you do?”
“Go for a trade-off. Try to take someone down with me.”
“…What else?”
Su Er replied, “Save my last breath for a dramatic curse.”
Zhao Banjin was speechless.
Ji Heng looked over. “Try searching for letters or written notes.”
Su Er nodded and began checking more carefully. In the end, he found a slightly damp letter hidden behind the bathroom mirror. Fortunately, it was wrapped in cloth and hadn’t been too damaged.
The handwriting was neat and deliberate—it was hard to tell whether the writer had been calm or desperate:
Everyone else is dead. I’m probably not going to make it either.
Something has gone wrong with this instance. I expect the game will send in more players to investigate.
Long story short, here are three clues that might help: 1. There’s something wrong with Wanbaolin. But if there’s an item that counters your awakened ability, you must find a way to get it. 2. I suspect someone in this world knows we’re outsiders. 3. Don’t trust anyone—whether they’re from your faction or ability-based organizations.
Finally, if you’re reading this, please look after my family. I’ve left the address on the back of the envelope.
Su Er said quietly, “She was giving her final words—leaving behind clues in exchange for someone taking care of her family.”
She had intentionally moved to the hotel to draw attention, guiding later players to this letter.
Zhao Banjin walked over, copied the address from the back of the envelope, and sighed. “Let’s hope we make it out alive to carry out this wish.”
Su Er didn’t respond. Sen Huanhuan had been thinking about her family even in death, while he… hadn’t felt anything when he lost his parents.
Was he an anomaly? A monster?
He quickly shook off the self-pitying thoughts and gave himself a mental pep talk: No, there must be an extraordinary secret behind his origin—there had to be a reason for all of this.
Ji Heng noticed Su Er didn’t look well and put the letter away. “Let’s go.”
Su Er was distracted for most of the walk back.
“Phone.”
“Hm?”
“Your phone’s ringing,” Ji Heng reminded him.
Su Er blinked, pulled it out, and saw the caller ID: San Hua.
The call was brief. After hanging up, Su Er hailed a cab. “I need to go to the castle. I’ll be back at school later.”
Ji Heng: “Be careful.”
Su Er nodded, told the driver the address, and the car roared off. The ride was smooth, and in about thirty minutes he arrived at a castle in the outskirts.
Inside, everyone was lounging in a relaxed posture—some half-reclined on sofas, others sprawled comfortably on the carpet.
All of them were stunningly attractive. With their noble temperaments and the luxurious décor of the patterned carpet, the scene looked more like a perfect oil painting than reality.
“Su Er,” a voice rang out, rich with temptation. “Welcome to the family. I’m Yi Xin.”
Soon, another voice lazily chimed in, “I’m Er Duo.’”
As everyone finished introducing themselves, a subtle change flickered across Su Er’s expression.
Yi Xin, Er Duo, San Hua, Si Ye, Wu Zhi, Liu Ya, Qi Ye, Ba Tu, Jiu Mu, Shi Hu…
“Did your parents name you all like this, or…?”
“We changed them later,” San Hua’s heterochromatic eyes shimmered. “Isn’t it symmetrical?”
Before Su Er arrived, there had only been ten vampires in the entire city—now, they were all gathered in this castle.
“You’re the eleventh,” said Yi Xin, the most alluring of the group, curling his lips into a faint smile. “No need to change your name—whatever you pick will ruin the pattern.”
San Hua added, deadpan, “You can be Shiyi Jianyi.”
It wasn’t even funny, but it still made everyone burst into laughter.
Su Er laughed along.
After a moment, Qi Ye stood up. “Lunch is ready. I’ll go bring the dishes.”
Lunch was extravagant. The red wine beef looked mouthwateringly delicious—too bad it wasn’t dinner, or they could have added candlelight for effect.
The atmosphere at the table was warm and cheerful, but Su Er could faintly sense that beneath the surface, there was a whirlpool—and he was standing dead center in it.
“Wanbaolin is auctioning off a gun in a few days—said to be effective against werewolves.” San Hua sipped her wine, tone casual. “I might drop by just for fun.”
Qi Ye wasn’t interested. “Just one ordinary silver bullet costs tens of thousands. The rare ones start at six figures. Not worth it.”
Su Er kept eating quietly, wondering whether this seemingly offhand conversation was actually aimed at him.
After lunch, Su Er didn’t linger. Just before leaving, he turned back for one last glance. Everyone at the table was smiling warmly and waving him off.
A sudden curiosity struck him—what kind of expressions would they wear once his back was turned?
Wanbaolin had become the focus of the entire city.
This batch of auction items totaled ten—and in any other venue, each would’ve been worthy of being a grand finale lot.
Players who kept an eye on the outside world didn’t miss this news either.
In the training classroom, there were still only twenty-four players present—Su Er was missing again.
Su Er had been coming and going like a phantom for several days now. At first, the players had found it unsettling—by now, they’d gotten used to it.
Zhao Banjin: “Where’d he go this time?”
Ji Heng shook his head slightly.
“You didn’t ask?”
Ji Heng said flatly, “Didn’t want to hear something annoying.”
From the moment Su Er said he “had an idea,” Ji Heng had already mentally braced himself.
One of the Wanbaolin auction items was specifically designed to counter werewolves—so with Ji Heng sitting right here, attention was inevitable.
Mister Pu Liu stood at the front of the classroom, overseeing the group. “Someone has already obtained some clues. In exchange, he needs your help to steal an auction item.”
There was no question that “someone” referred to Ji Heng.
Soon, a player spoke up, “That depends on the value of the clue.”
Ji Heng replied calmly, “The trade is voluntary. If you think it’s not worth it, don’t participate. But let me be clear: this instance doesn’t forbid players from killing each other.”
It was just short of an outright threat—if someone took the clue but didn’t pull their weight or sabotaged the mission, they could expect to die.
The room fell into a silence so deep, a pin could be heard dropping. Everyone was doing their own mental calculations.
Eventually, a player named Qi Wen broke the silence: “The last group’s mission was related to Wanbaolin. Might as well team up and see what’s really going on.”
Anyone selected to play this game wasn’t going to be an idiot. The benefit of group action was obvious: as long as you’re strong and fast enough, death will never catch you.
Everyone in the room was clearly confident in their own abilities. It didn’t take long to reach an agreement.
Mister Pu Liu, still expressionless, said, “I’ll provide a map of Wanbaolin’s internal layout.”
Hosts couldn’t interfere too much with the instance—and the players didn’t know the limits of what Mister Pu Liu could do. Being given a blueprint was already a rare bit of good luck. They wasted no time starting to plan.
“The auction starts at ten on Wednesday morning. The day before, security will be airtight. It’s best to start sneaking people in today…”
“I’ll handle cracking the safe.”
“Chen Lin is fast—he can draw attention away.”
After over an hour of meticulous discussion, a detailed plan was finalized.
As the auction day drew closer, the players became increasingly tense, nerves stretched thin as a bowstring.
The day before the auction.
Mister Pu Liu unexpectedly summoned everyone and, without warning, announced: “Tomorrow’s operation is canceled.”
There was a brief silence. Then someone in the front row asked tersely, “Reason?”
Mister Pu Liu looked at him, then opened a projector and played a short video—just some newly downloaded ad clips.
“Zixin Hall—beauty is simply irreplaceable!” In the video, the person held a bottle of serum and flashed a 45-degree smile.
“What’s the secret to boosting your charm? Let the latest awakened little incubus tell you—just one bottle of Flower Fragrance perfume is enough.”
“Cheese Red Wine—red wine even vampires love!”
The cheaply made commercials were almost unbearable to watch. By the end, some players couldn’t take it anymore and turned away.
Naturally, the star of these ads was Su Er.
Ji Heng rubbed his temples. “That’s just his style.”
Su Er’s life principle was: if it can be paid for with money, never pay for it with your life.
With a soft sigh, Ji Heng could already imagine what kind of scene would unfold at the auction house tomorrow.
Zhao Banjin gave a stiff smile. While they had been racking their brains planning how to escape Wanbaolin unscathed, someone had already collected endorsement fees and was gearing up to spend a fortune.
And it wasn’t just the players who had seen the ads—the vampire clan had too.
At that moment, they were gathered together, teasing whether some annoying bug would try to sneak into Wanbaolin and muddy the waters.
San Hua was petting a cat with heterochromatic eyes like his own, gently stroking its fur. “Fortune favors the bold. There’s always someone who’s not afraid to die.”
Yi Xin’s tone held deeper meaning. “Young people rarely learn their lesson until they’ve suffered.”
It was just short of naming Su Er directly.
Shi Hu stared into the red wine in his glass. “The bait’s already been cast—the fish should bite soon.”
With that, he half-closed his eyes and took a sip.
“Cheese Red Wine—red wine even vampires love!”
The energetic voice from the TV rang out.
Pffft—
Catching sight of the person on screen, Shi Hu, utterly unprepared, spat out his wine on the spot.
San Hua glanced at the stain on the carpet with a frown and switched the channel.
“KissKiss Lip Gloss—the shade that seduces vampires!”
“Great World Shampoo—the vampire’s secret to anti-hair loss!”
Qi Ye was watching a drama on his tablet and had just reached a climactic scene when it suddenly cut to a 15-second ad. Su Er’s face popped up abruptly on screen.
When the video resumed, the bullet comments on screen exploded:
[When did vampires fall so low as to do ads?]
[I’m more curious why vampires are going bald.]
[Yesterday I saw a contact lens ad. Rumor had it there’s a heterochromatic vampire, but turns out he’s just wearing color contacts.]
Out of the corner of his eye, San Hua caught that last comment. His hand twitched, startling the cat into a yowl as it bolted across the room.
San Hua didn’t bother chasing it. He just stared at Su Er’s face in the ad, his expression turning grim. “Has he gone insane?”
Whether Su Er had gone insane or not, one thing was certain—he was very happy.
Time in the instance was limited, and using up his exposure and player goodwill all at once in exchange for a string of digits in his bank account? Totally worth it.
Standing outside the gates of Wanbaolin, Su Er gazed affectionately at the so-called number one auction house in the country.
After a long pause, he let out a snort of laughter and glanced down at his watch. Twelve hours, nine minutes, and thirty-seven seconds—then it’ll be time for my performance to begin.
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