Chapter 23 |
Ji Qiu was a man of his word. In this latest chapter of the manga, he handed out not one, not two, but three death flags.
One at the beginning, one in the middle, and one at the end—perfectly spaced, neatly packaged. Though none of the three were big-name characters, they all had official names and had participated in the Dream Comic popularity vote.
The one thing they had in common?
All eliminated during the preliminary round—and now all dead, without a trace left.
Yuan Yuanyuan noticed the pattern and immediately dove into the comments section. Even though it had only been half an hour since the chapter went live, it was already chaos. Comments exploded to several times the usual count, and the number was still climbing.
Even the forums were in flames.
The characters who died weren’t super famous, but they had their fans. And those fans? Now losing their minds.
Yuan Yuanyuan carefully pulled up the results from the preliminary vote. Turns out Ji Qiu didn’t kill off every eliminated character—there had been five who didn’t make the cut, but only three were given death scenes.
She looked at the two who were still “alive.” Both were recent additions, had appeared only once or twice. They didn’t get nearly as much panel time as the three who were killed. In fact, from Yuan Yuanyuan’s perspective, those two had a lot of potential—just needed more screen time to become breakout favorites.
…So what? If they didn’t meet expectations, he just killed them off on the spot?
The more she thought about it, the more unsettling it became. But one thing was clear: Ji Qiu was absolutely behind this.
It didn’t take a genius to see the message: by brutally offing three officially recognized characters in a single chapter, Ji Qiu was sending a warning to every other character in the comic.
Get your act together. This time, I’m not playing around.
And as for what he meant by “not playing around”—just look at those three gruesome, tragic deaths.
Still, it wasn’t entirely random. If he’d really been going down the list, all five eliminated characters would’ve died. But only three did.
Maybe the other two still had a chance.
And while the deaths shook the fandom, they were really just a side note. The main plot of this chapter focused on the protagonist continuing his investigation into the illegal trafficking of humans. He’d uncovered that this was a huge, deeply rooted operation, impossible to eliminate completely. So he was now gathering evidence and quietly building his strength.
Yuan Yuanyuan thought to herself: No way the tavern would dare continue doing that kind of thing right now… not with all eyes on them.
But if they did?
She’d smash it all again.
At this rate, she half expected a cross-dressing justice warrior to drop from the sky any day now.
She sat on her bed, stared out at the streetlamp that had just gone dark, and thought: Well, guess I’m not sleeping tonight.
So much for the one day off she got from the tavern—and now she was too anxious to even enjoy it.
Surprisingly though, Yuan Yuanyuan wasn’t as panicked as she thought she’d be. She even had the energy to go to the kitchen and grab another piece of bread, chewing as she flipped back to the tournament bracket.
The preliminaries were over. Next up: elimination round.
She checked her next opponent. She’d glanced at this guy before but hadn’t paid much attention—turns out he was the male lead from a shoujo manga, one she’d never read.
Maybe it was time to catch up… then again, it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the one casting votes anyway.
As she scrolled through the comments, most people reacted with disbelief. The fans of the three dead characters were outraged:
“What the hell! If I’d known, I’d have bought more copies to vote!”
“Ji Qiu, you psycho! What the hell is this? Anyone not in first place is getting killed off now?!”
Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t think it would go that far. Ji Qiu probably wasn’t that deranged. Killing everyone off until only one remained… that’d be pointless. Right?
Then again… this whole thing was already pretty deranged.
She looked out at the darkened sky, closed her phone, and tried to rest her eyes. But her heart was far from calm. She had a feeling this was going to be one of those nights full of nightmares.
Oh well… at this point, I’ve been bitten by enough fleas to stop noticing.
Five days until the next update.
Yuan Yuanyuan was back in the tavern. Li Zi Jie (aka Li Jiao) looked at her, frowning.
“Still not good enough. Lower your wrist.”
“Like this? Is that low enough?” Yuan Yuanyuan adjusted her posture. “This robe is too heavy—it’s weighing me down.”
“At this rate, you’re gonna starve to death.” Li Zi Jie shook her head and headed out when someone called for her, telling Yuan Yuanyuan to stay put and keep practicing.
Yuan Yuanyuan sighed and went back to practicing her wine-pouring technique—trying to pour gracefully, without spilling anything.
Her mind was a mess. Too much had happened lately. And now Li Zi Jie suddenly wanted her to learn how to serve wine, too, saying there weren’t any other girls left willing to work. Yuan Yuanyuan, being the only one with a passable face, had to take over. And hey, more responsibilities meant a bigger paycheck.
Not that she cared about the extra money. She was just afraid that if she said no, the boss would kick her out altogether. As a half-demon, she had no rights—neither human nor demon.
So she kept going, perfecting her movements while her arms slowly went numb.
Sigh… just let me go back to the kitchen. I’d rather scroll my phone. Now I’m doing a job worth 2000 yuan for only 1000 a month. What a scam.
As she poured, she kept glancing at the door.
There, a row of tiny heads peeked in, stacked one on top of the other, round eyes staring.
When her gaze swept over, the little kids froze—wide-eyed, stacked like totems. Some taller, some smaller—all girls by the look of it.
Of course, that was just the appearance. For all she knew, some of them could be old enough to be her grandmother.
Whenever she practiced, this group of little girls always showed up to peek. It was kind of awkward being watched like that, but Yuan Yuanyuan never chased them away.
They hid behind a screen embroidered with the “Night Parade of One Hundred Demons,” whisper-quiet.
Inside the room, she sat in her heavy, oversized red robe, arm held steady, trying to recall the precise movements she’d been shown earlier.
The walls were adorned with strange paintings—probably illustrations of mythical creatures. Like pages from some ancient bestiary.
A faint, cold incense wafted from a nearby burner.
By the time Yuan Yuanyuan finally got home, the sky was already starting to lighten.
Her brain buzzed. She’d barely slept the night before, and even when she dozed off, her dreams were full of crunch and splat scenes. At this rate, she was gonna lose her mind.
This was when a person started developing split personalities: the rational side urging calm, the irrational side whispering, “Screw it—just go nuts.”
Every day, these two fought inside her head.
She had no one to confide in.
This kind of loneliness… suddenly made her want a boyfriend.
As she fumbled for her keys, she saw Xiao Ying pushing open her door, a massive backpack on her back.
“Wait, where are you going?” Yuan Yuanyuan called.
“I’m going to the anime convention,” Xiao Ying turned back, cheerful.
“Cosplaying?” Yuan Yuanyuan asked. “Or just browsing?”
“I’m not cosplaying. Li Xin is. Don’t worry, both our moms know,” Xiao Ying waved and turned to leave.
“Be back early,” Yuan Yuanyuan called. Just as she turned to head inside, something caught her eye.
She stuck her head back out and spotted another girl walking out behind Xiao Ying.
The girl wore a black trench coat, a short wig, light makeup, and also had a huge bag.
“…Who are you cosplaying as?” Yuan Yuanyuan asked.
“Oh, the character you helped me vote for last time,” Xiao Ying called back with a grin. “We’re off now. Bye, Yuanyuan-jie!”
“…Bye.”
Yuan Yuanyuan leaned against the doorframe, watching the two girls bounce down the stairs, disappearing from view in moments.