Reality
System 001’s excitement didn’t rub off on Chen Li. His attention was immediately captured by the gift box that suddenly appeared in front of him.
The box even glowed with bright, colorful lights, almost desperately trying to show off.
Chen Li took a cautious step back, watching as the lights faded.
It seemed almost as if the box was sad.
After hesitating for a moment, he approached again, curiosity in his eyes.
The ignored System 001 snorted dismissively: [It’s just a useless item. What’s so special about it?]
Chen Li was surprised: [Is this an item for me?]
The gift box shook excitedly, as if urging him to open it.
This time, Chen Li didn’t hesitate. He reached out and untied the big red bow on the box.
The square box opened directly.
Inside was a small model of a bus.
It was themed with gradient pink and had a cute cat design.
“Meow~” The ghost bus excitedly spun around Chen Li’s hand.
Chen Li widened his eyes. “You came with me, huh?”
“Meow!”
[Hmph.] 001’s tone was sharp, [No backbone at all. Is this the infamous ghost bus from the Underworld?]
The ghost bus stopped spinning. Its front end twisted like rubber, almost comically, as if it was searching for something. Finally, it locked onto a target and darted straight toward a blank space.
[Ow!!!]
With a child’s scream, a round glowing orb was pulled out by the ghost bus.
The orb cried out: [Stop pretending to be a cat! You’re a dog!]
The ghost bus ignored it, happily wanting to present it to Chen Li.
Chen Li hesitated for a moment before accepting the orb: “System?”
System 001 grumbled: [Yes! It’s me! What about it?!]
The orb was light as air, almost weightless in his arms.
Chen Li smiled: “It’s nothing, but it’s cute.”
He didn’t expect the system’s main body, which sounded so gruff and loved calling itself “This Lord,” to be so round and cute.
System 001 stammered: [C-cute? I’m not cute! You’re the one who’s cute! Your whole family is cute!!]
The orb struggled a little and managed to slip out of his hands.
The white light on it gradually shifted to a pink hue.
Chen Li didn’t point out its shyness.
System 001, attempting to change the topic: [You can now browse the forum and the shop.]
There’s such a thing?
Curious, Chen Li opened the task panel and, sure enough, he noticed a few extra icons in the upper-right corner.
The forum was a player forum. NPCs didn’t use forums to communicate, so he could only browse but not post.
However, the items in the shop could be purchased.
System 001 explained: [You can buy things to decorate your space. Some items can even be brought into the game.]
Chen Li glanced at the price and couldn’t help clicking his tongue.
The points used to buy things there must be exchanged at a 1:1 ratio with Horror Points, and he only had 75—barely enough to buy even a decent fabric sofa.
What’s more, points could even be converted into real money—1 point was worth 100 yuan.
System 001: [I suggest you save your points. It costs 50 entry points for a guide NPC to enter the next game. If you don’t have enough, you’ll be downgraded to a regular NPC with no independent thought—just a fixed character setting.]
Who would’ve thought even being an NPC in a game came with performance pressure?
Chen Li lowered his hand, deciding not to browse the store anymore. He felt a little disappointed.
The ghost bus took the opportunity to shove aside the annoying ball of light and scooted right up next to Chen Li, meowing in an attempt to comfort him.
Although he didn’t quite understand what it was saying, Chen Li smiled and reached out to pat the cat ears on its roof. “Thanks for choosing me.”
“Meow~”
System 001, who had been completely ignored to the side, was about to explode from anger. Huffing, it forcibly kicked Chen Li out of the system space.
The moment he vanished from the blindingly white space, all the lurking ghosts and monsters outside surged in, creeping in from every corner and shadow of the room.
Most of them were instinct-driven monsters, whispering in eerie, rustling voices:
“Like… like…”
“So fragrant…”
“He smells so good… He’s mine…”
But before they could fully enter, a powerful force expelled them all again. The system’s furious roar echoed: [Get lost!]
Did they not realize who was under this one’s protection?
If Chen Li had been there, he would’ve been shocked to see the once soft and fluffy ball of white light now pitch-black, radiating a heavy, suffocating pressure.
. . . . .
When Chen Li opened his eyes, he found himself sitting in a dining chair in his living room, still holding his phone.
He immediately had a bad feeling. One look down confirmed it.
All his replies were from a day ago.
He had spent five days in the game, but only 24 hours had passed in reality.
Back then, he had been suddenly pulled into the game and only managed to respond to his advisor and the client. He didn’t have time to reply to his friend Gu Fu.
Having received no reply, Gu Fu had sent dozens of messages and even called several times.
The last message was sent just ten minutes ago:
Gu Fu: [I’m coming to find you right now.]
Just as Chen Li was about to call him back, the doorbell rang.
He stood up and looked through the peephole, seeing the worried face of his best friend. He quickly opened the door.
Gu Fu had been ready to break the door down. When he saw the door open, it took him a moment to react.
“You’re okay?” Gu Fu frowned.
Looking at the only real friend he had in the world, Chen Li shook his head and said, “Sorry. I just accidentally broke my phone. It’s fixed now—I was just about to call you back.”
Gu Fu let out a sigh of relief. “As long as you’re okay.”
Chen Li, a little apologetic, invited him inside to sit for a while.
He had always been an introvert since childhood, and Gu Fu was his only friend.
Gu Fu wasn’t just as good-looking as a male protagonist in a drama, he was also cheerful and outgoing. That’s probably why they’d remained friends for so many years.
He often invited Chen Li to go out, and even though he got turned down every time, he never gave up—he was determined to bring him out into the world.
Unfortunately, Chen Li only ever wanted to stay in his own little world and paint.
Gu Fu stayed until after dinner before finally heading home.
He was the one doing all the talking the whole time, while Chen Li quietly listened, occasionally smiling and responding when something interested him.
Now and then, System 001 would chime in inside his head with some sarcastic or snide comment aimed at Gu Fu.
It made it hard for Chen Li to stay focused.
But he didn’t mind much. After all, System 001 had always been indifferent—if not outright unfriendly—toward humans.
After seeing Gu Fu off, Chen Li tidied up, washed up, and returned to his dedicated studio. He stared blankly at an unfinished painting.
System 001 remembered when it had just bonded with its host, and saw a message on his phone from someone labeled “Teacher” telling him he hadn’t made the cut.
It was probably for some competition.
Even though Chen Li didn’t seem to care, System 001 still tried to comfort him: [I’ve detected a nationwide competition coming up. If you want to join, I can sneak you straight into the finals.]
Chen Li shook his head. “No need.”
But he was planning to register for the competition anyway.
Not to prove anything to anyone—just because inspiration, long absent, had finally struck.
The events of the past five days had consumed his every thought. He’d expected to be terrified, but instead, he was filled with an unfamiliar sense of intensity.
He picked up his brush, dipped it in paint, and touched it to the canvas.
His expression was more focused than ever before.
At first, System 001 hadn’t paid it any mind. But as time passed and the colors on the canvas deepened, the heavy, dark-red sky took shape, and it found itself completely drawn into the world of the painting.
A severed, sacrificial head. A slaughterhouse drenched in blood. The butcher’s blade. The helpless lambs awaiting death…
All recreated vividly on the canvas.
And at the center, the boy surrounded by butchers—his face hidden, yet radiating an overwhelming sense of fragility and despair.
He was a trapped fledgling, a sacrifice to an unknown evil god. The surrounding gazes were malicious, hungry, fixed on the innocent lamb who had wandered in. There was no blood, no explicit violence, no torn flesh—but the evil oozed from every corner.
Anyone looking at the painting would feel a tightness in their chest.
It was hard to believe such a heavy, oppressive, and chilling image could come from the hand of a boy with bright eyes and a youthful face.
It had been far too long since Chen Li painted with such passion and intensity.
He’d tried many ways to evoke fear in his work before—forcing himself to read horror novels or watch scary movies—but they only had the opposite effect.
This painting completely captures the emotions he felt when he saw the slaughterhouse.
He didn’t stop painting until he saw the first light of dawn.
He hadn’t slept all night, all for the sake of finishing this painting.
The vibrant energy he had felt deflated in an instant, like a balloon being popped, the moment the final stroke was made.
Chen Li couldn’t help but yawn, yet his gaze remained fixed on his artwork.
He thought to himself that he seemed to have finally found his direction.
The confusion and the loss of his spiritual energy over the past few years felt like a bad dream.
System 001 only then realized that it, too, was drawn in by the host’s painting, losing track of time. Looking at its sleep-deprived host, it couldn’t help but speak awkwardly: [Hey, you should go to sleep. Don’t end up collapsing from exhaustion.]
Humans are really fragile; even without any external shocks, they can suddenly collapse.
Chen Li obediently stood up and returned to his room. The moment he lay on his bed, drowsiness hit him all at once.
In the haze between sleep and wakefulness, he suddenly thought of something—when he was in the terrifying world, he never experienced that familiar nightmare.
The next moment, he opened his eyes.
A red haze surrounded him.
It was this dream again!
It’s true—what you fear always comes to pass.
Chen Li couldn’t help but shift slightly, surprised to find that he could move.
Every time he’d dreamt of this scene before, he could only sit there like a puppet, unable to move except for a slight movement of his hands.
Now, he could move his whole body, though he still couldn’t take off the red veil covering his head.
Creak—
The door opened, and the sound of boots on the floor grew closer, the clinking of red jewels, agate, jade, and rare treasures echoing.
“My… little lamb…”
The man’s deep, magnetic voice came closer and closer until it reached his side, and the cold aura wrapped around him.
Chen Li sat on the bridal bed, instinctively scooting back a little.
Such a small movement angered the approaching figure.
In a dizzying spin, he was pinned to the bed. The red veil lifted slightly, revealing his delicate chin, and he shrank back like a frightened animal.
His slender neck and lips marked with teeth marks silently invited temptation.
For the first time, the person in the dream spoke a second sentence.
He gripped Chen Li’s chin tightly, his voice low and grim: “Mine.”
Author’s note:
Just a reminder for those who forgot, this dream was already described at the beginning of chapter 1~
Our Chen Li is protected by so many (thank goodness)
Also Gu Fu hmm…he’s obviously a 2nd ML. If FMY’s a wolf then this one’s probably a fox. Or it’s going to be a “nice guys always lose” situation and I’m going to feel really bad.