"My personal skill." Bai Liu smiled weakly at him. "If you're curious, I can show it to you again. My physical strength is at zero right now. If you give me a bottle of physical strength recovery agent, I'll demonstrate it."
"Of course, I won't take your recovery agent for free." Bai Liu repeated his old trick, taking out a one-point coin with a grin. "How about exchanging it for one point?"
Mu Sicheng: "..."
Only a fool would trade with him.
One minute later—
[System Alert: The transaction has been established. Wanderer Bai Liu has received one bottle of physical strength recovery agent.]
[System Reminder: Player Mu Sicheng has given player Bai Liu a bottle of physical strength recovery agent valued at 180 points. It restores 90 points of physical strength.]
Mu Sicheng was on the verge of exploding. He wanted to jump onto Bai Liu's back and strangle him as he lazily drank the recovery agent.
"How the hell did you do that?!" Mu Sicheng demanded viciously. "Stealing and robbing are forbidden here! Players can only trade or gift items! You can't steal from my game warehouse!"
It had happened right in front of him. Twice!
He had always been the one stealing from others. This was the first time someone had stolen from him.
"Personal skill." Bai Liu tilted his head back as he finished the recovery agent. Strength gradually returned to his limbs, and he smiled at Mu Sicheng. "If you'd like me to demonstrate it again, I can—"
"No need." Mu Sicheng cut him off expressionlessly. He would have to be brain-dead to fall for this trick again.
"Ah, my residency fee is due today. I have to log out first." Wang Shun waved goodbye to Bai Liu and prepared to leave. He added, "Bai Liu, if you want to stay in the game hall, you need to pay a daily residency fee to the system. The fee is the same for each level. At your current level, it's 100 points per day."
"My payment's due, so I'm heading out. See you next time." Wang Shun politely bid farewell to both of them.
"Hey, I'm leaving too." Mu Sicheng glanced at his watch, then at Bai Liu. "I've got something to handle in the real world. I'll come find you next time, Bai Liu."
"Next time," Mu Sicheng suddenly showed a malicious grin, "I'll be the one challenging you to a game. You tricked me out of my stuff today—I'll take it back."
With that, both of them disappeared from the game hall.
Bai Liu followed the route Wang Shun had shown him earlier and returned to the newcomer district. There, he found Mu Ke trembling in a corner near the exit, his face still streaked with tears.
The young master was actually quite good-looking. He had a delicate frame, almost like a Japanese bishounen. His soft features, reddened eyes, and tear-stained face could easily make girls feel distressed and say, "Mommy loves you."
Bai Liu, however, was a male game designer whose only true love was money. He reserved what little maternal affection he possessed for money—and for the horror game bosses he designed. He lacked even the most basic emotional response to human beauty. At the very least, it would take someone on the level of the Siren King to stir him.
Bai Liu crouched down. Mu Ke immediately shrank back, as if covered in invisible thorns. Tears still clung to his lashes as he forced himself to glare defiantly.
"Go away!"
"This is the first time—no, the second time—we've met, Young Master Mu."
Mu Ke froze the moment Bai Liu spoke. He stared blankly up at him, tears sliding off his eyelashes and dripping onto the ground. He didn't tell Bai Liu to leave again. He looked at him in a daze.
He recognized that voice.
It was the voice that had saved him when he was about to die. The voice that had bought his soul for 200 points and effortlessly burned away the monsters he couldn't defeat. The voice that claimed to belong to a poor wanderer—a devil.
Bai Liu gazed down at him calmly. "This may be the second time you've seen me, but it seems you don't remember me. It doesn't matter. After all, our relationship is now entirely different."
"Mu Ke, let's treat this as our first meeting." Bai Liu extended his hand. "I am the owner of your soul debt. My name is Bai Liu."
After a long silence, Mu Ke—who seemed on the verge of emotional collapse—suddenly cried out. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Bai Liu, bursting into tears again. He clung to him like a child who had finally found his parents after being lost.
"Why are you here?!"
At this moment, Mu Ke believed he was clinging to a devil he had no choice but to depend on.
It would be a long time before he realized that he had embraced a god disguised as a devil. He would give Bai Liu his faith and his soul—and Bai Liu would give him a new heart and a new life.
Bai Liu brought Mu Ke out of the game. The logout location was Bai Liu's home.
It was nearly midnight when they returned. Mu Ke's tears were like an endless fountain. Once outside the game, he cried for hours. He cried until he passed out, and even then, he refused to let go of Bai Liu's sleeve.
The moment Bai Liu told him to go home, Mu Ke's wailing nearly lifted the roof.
He didn't want to go back. He had sold his soul to Bai Liu—yet Bai Liu was trying to send him away!
Mu Ke argued stubbornly, full of conviction.
Bai Liu concluded that this was a combination of the chick imprinting effect and the suspension bridge effect. The young master had developed a strong sense of security toward Bai Liu, the so-called devil who should have been the villain.
In short, as long as Mu Ke couldn't overcome his lingering fear, he wouldn't be willing to leave Bai Liu's house.
Unfortunately, Bai Liu had no intention of keeping him.
The reason was simple: the young master cried too much.
So five minutes after Mu Ke finally fell asleep, Bai Liu called his former boss and asked him to come pick up the company's young master. He explained that Mu Ke was currently at his house and refused to leave.
When Bai Liu's boss received the call, he was so shocked that he spilled coffee all over his keyboard.
He had never liked Bai Liu very much.
The main reason was Bai Liu's stubbornness in game development. Whenever the boss asked him to add trendy market elements, Bai Liu would bluntly say the game design was already complete. Adding more plotlines would create bugs or disrupt the structure. He refused every time.
In truth, whether those elements were added or not wasn't a big issue. What bothered the boss was Bai Liu's attitude. An employee should simply follow instructions. Instead, Bai Liu always gave logical explanations, making himself seem principled and superior.
After Mu Ke took over Bai Liu's position and barely did any real work, the boss had to clean up the mess himself and take over Bai Liu's projects.
Only then did he realize—
Bai Liu hadn't been disobedient. He hadn't been making excuses. He had simply been telling the truth.
Now it was the boss's turn to handle Bai Liu's former responsibilities, and the one criticizing everything had become Mu Ke. The young master came up with three or four new ideas every day and relentlessly tormented the boss. Whenever the boss said something couldn't be added, Mu Ke would sneer and reply, "If you won't follow my suggestions, I'll replace you with someone who will."
Now the boss's own position was at risk—yet the young master had disappeared for an entire day. He never expected Mu Ke to be at Bai Liu's house.
The boss couldn't help overthinking. What exactly was the relationship between Bai Liu and this young master…? But speculation was pointless. Nominally, he was Mu Ke's boss. In reality, he was more like a babysitter. He had no choice but to come and pick him up.
When the boss arrived at Bai Liu's house, Mu Ke was still asleep.
The boss felt a bit guilty and awkward when he saw Bai Liu, but Bai Liu felt nothing at all. Before coming out, he had exchanged 100 points for 100,000 yuan. Points in the game were extremely valuable—the exchange rate with RMB was 1000:1. In other words, 100 points equaled 100,000 yuan.
With money in hand, Bai Liu faced everyone calmly. Even when confronted with this boss—who never understood game design and loved ordering people around—Bai Liu simply opened the door politely and said, "Mu Ke is sleeping. He cried all night and just fell asleep. Don't wake him."
Originally, Bai Liu hadn't wanted to wake Mu Ke because the endless crying had given him a headache. However, when he had tried to leave earlier, Mu Ke grabbed his shirt. Bai Liu had simply taken off the shirt to escape. Now Mu Ke was curled into a small, insecure ball on the bed, clutching that shirt tightly. His eyes and nose were red, and there were faint bruises on his body—the aftereffects of the game.
Combined with Bai Liu's earlier statement, the boss absorbed all this information at once and stiffly replied, "Oh."
So that was their relationship?!
Why hadn't Bai Liu told him earlier? If he had known, he would've fired anyone except Bai Liu!
"Should we just let Mu Ke continue sleeping here with you, Bai Liu?" the boss asked cautiously. In truth, he didn't dare wake Mu Ke. The young master had a terrible temper when woken from a nap, let alone after being "tossed all night" like this.
The more he thought about it, the stranger it felt. Bai Liu had "tossed" the young master all night, and after finishing, casually called the boss to pick him up. Why did this feel like the behavior of a complete scumbag…?
Bai Liu refused without hesitation. "No. Take him away. His crying is too annoying."
The boss: "!!!"
What a scumbag! How could Bai Liu say something so heartless with such a serious expression?!
Mu Ke was awakened by their voices. His eyelashes trembled. Before fully waking, he hugged Bai Liu's shirt tightly and murmured, "Bai Liu…"
Seeing this, the boss's expression became even more complicated. He looked at Bai Liu with open condemnation. Bai Liu, however, didn't care. The boss had always looked at him like that at work. He was long used to it.
Bai Liu said calmly, "Mu Ke, wake up. Someone's here to pick you up."
Mu Ke slowly opened his eyes. The moment he saw the boss standing by the bed, he immediately understood—Bai Liu had called someone to take him away.
His reaction was intense.
He instinctively reached for Bai Liu's hand while snapping irritably at the boss. His back arched, and he bared his teeth like a cat being dragged somewhere it didn't want to go. "Go away! I'm not going back! I'm staying here!"
"This is my house." Bai Liu lightly avoided Mu Ke's hand. "I don't permit you to stay. Mu Ke, go back."
Mu Ke froze.
He turned to look at Bai Liu. The hand that had been reaching out slowly dropped. His eyes reddened again, and his lips trembled. "Bai Liu… I'll behave. Please don't send me away."
"I'm giving you an order based on our relationship," Bai Liu said quietly. "You don't have the right to refuse."
In truth, Bai Liu understood why Mu Ke didn't want to leave. Mu Ke had an intense survival instinct, and Bai Liu had saved him. Subconsciously, Mu Ke had equated "staying with Bai Liu" with "being able to live." It was more accurate to say he had become dependent on Bai Liu. He feared any environment without Bai Liu's protection.
Tears slid down Mu Ke's face. He bit his lower lip and stared at Bai Liu for a long time before finally getting out of bed obediently.
He stood behind the boss, pale and trembling, fear plainly written across his face.
Seeing this, Bai Liu felt it necessary to guide this player, just as the system guided players.
"Mu Ke," Bai Liu said softly, "if you're so weak that you can't survive without me, then you're useless to me."
"In that case, I'll abandon you soon. Do you understand? I can obtain many people like you. But you only have me."
"I—I understand." Mu Ke's lips were pale as he answered. He lowered his head and wiped his eyes, forcing himself to stop crying. "I'll try to be useful to you."
The boss, who had witnessed the entire exchange, felt extremely awkward.
It was like watching a cruel melodrama featuring a heartless scumbag protagonist. He looked at Bai Liu with a trace of fear.
Bai Liu actually dared to speak to Young Master Mu like that. What exactly was his status?
Mu Ke followed the boss out in a daze. The moment they stepped outside, the boss couldn't hold back any longer.
"Young Master Mu… what exactly is your relationship with Bai Liu?"
"What relationship?" Mu Ke's eyes were empty, as if speaking to himself. "I belong to him. He owns my soul. He's my master."
The boss: "..."
What on earth were they playing at?
He never would've guessed that Bai Liu—handsome, with thick brows and bright eyes—was actually into something like that. A top-tier S who had turned the arrogant young master into an obedient little cat…
The boss shuddered as he led away the trembling Mu Ke, who was no longer crying.
He felt like he had fired a very dangerous person.
-----------------
After Mu Ke left, Bai Liu opened the Alienware laptop Mu Ke had given him as compensation and began searching for information related to Siren Town.
He tried forward searches, reverse searches, and even looked up the names Jeff and Andre. Nothing matched.
Bai Liu rubbed his stiff neck thoughtfully. It seemed the game truly wasn't a real-world product. But if it was virtual—
His gaze darkened.
He hooked a finger around the string at his neck and pulled out the coin with the square hole in its center—his game manager.
He flipped it in his hand several times. The coin remained unresponsive. No game panel appeared.
If the game were purely virtual, then how had this object followed him into reality?
As he toyed with the coin, something thin as a cicada's wing slipped free. A translucent fish scale—cool and icy in texture—hung from the string around his neck. It clung to the coin, emitting a faint iridescent glow.
Only after returning did Bai Liu realize the scale was there.
If his guess was correct, this was the Siren King's Reverse Scale. He hadn't deliberately brought it out, yet it had followed him into reality.
He recalled the system's description: "It represents the Siren King's response to your love. May the player wear it for a long time."
After wearing it overnight and noticing no abnormalities, Bai Liu had ignored it.
But now, he reconsidered.
It made no sense to treat the game as something purely psychological—like a "mind palace" constructed from consciousness. Real objects existed: the coin, the scale. That meant the game itself had to be an objective, real entity.
If it existed, there should be traces of it.
Yet Bai Liu had found nothing online.
That was strange.
Aside from him, there had to be other players. After all, 100 players logged in at a time. Even if only one or two survived, they should have posted about it—on forums, Weibo, Moments. Information spread rapidly in the age of big data. He should have found something.
But there was nothing. Anything that existed should leave traces.
Unless—
Those traces had been erased. Bai Liu narrowed his eyes.
He opened Weibo and wrote a detailed post describing the Siren Town game. Then he clicked "Post." He watched with his own eyes as the published Weibo flickered—
And slowly disappeared.