Men's dormitory.
Ye Cheng had just finished showering and was strolling around his room wearing nothing but a pair of tattered red "frosted" boxer shorts with holes in them.
He stopped in front of a mirror, admiring his "god-tier muscle definition."
This wasn’t out of narcissism—he was just testing whether the questionable "golden finger" (cheat ability) he’d acquired had delivered as promised. So far, it had never failed him, and this time was no exception.
It really was god-tier muscle definition!
His muscles were full, perfectly symmetrical, with sharp, well-defined lines and intricate textures spreading across his body like a spiderweb.
The effect was so exaggerated that Ye Cheng could probably compete in bodybuilding contests right now, easily snagging a lightweight championship title.
Unlike the overbuilt physiques of fitness influencers or hardcore gym rats—which inexplicably attracted more male attention—Ye Cheng’s current muscle tone was exactly the kind women adored.
The "dreamy big brother" physique that female fans online swooned over was now replicated almost perfectly on Ye Cheng’s body.
With clothes on, you wouldn’t notice a thing. But the moment he took them off—or even just wore something slightly revealing—the visual impact was staggering. It was a universal knockout, effective on all genders!
Even an eighty-year-old grandma would get a nosebleed looking at him!
"Damn, did this thing turn me into a succubus or something?" Ye Cheng rubbed his smooth chin.
His skin had originally been quite fair, but years of labor and exploitation in shady factories had darkened it slightly beyond a healthy tan.
But now, with this god-tier muscle definition, his skin had instantly lightened back up—noticeably so. In simpler terms, he now looked more like a pretty boy.
"Perfect. If things go south, I can always rely on being a sugar baby!"
Ye Cheng had an incredibly strong adaptability and an unusually optimistic mindset. The first thing that crossed his mind after his body’s drastic transformation was how he could use his new "succubus" charm to mooch off rich women.
Eat? Yeah—he’d be eating soft rice!
Looking back, Ye Cheng now felt like he’d been putting on airs before. Why had he even bothered working as a forklift driver in a shady factory when there were faster ways to make money?
Turns out his moral standards had been too high.
After this brief moment of reflection, Ye Cheng flopped onto his bed in his tattered "frosted" limited-edition zodiac-themed underwear and picked up his phone.
Then…
"Timmy!"
"Woo-hoo, let’s queue up!!!"
Just hearing the game’s startup sound was enough to get him hyped—though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe he was just born with a phosphorous temperament.
First, Ye Cheng spent a few minutes claiming all the free in-game event rewards available. Then he opened his friends list, ready to randomly select a "lucky" teammate to carry for a couple of ranked matches.
If he wasn’t trolling, Ye Cheng was actually pretty skilled—a natural talent.
No strategy, just pure mechanics and reflexes, bulldozing through matches. That was until a series of bad losses tilted him into adopting the "Lei Ge playstyle."
From then on, there was no going back. He’d discovered the true essence of gaming: it was about having fun, about feeling good. Winning or losing didn’t matter.
A lot of people still didn’t get whether they were playing the game or being played by it, getting farmed by the matchmaking system like pigs.
"Once, a sincere game was placed before me, but I didn’t cherish it. If given another chance, I’d choose… to throw!"
"Full aggression!!!"
Ye Cheng let out a battle cry and launched into his first ranked match of the day.
The familiar hero selection screen popped up. Ye Cheng pre-picked the adorable default skin deer-girl.
"Only play this. If you ban or steal it, I’ll feed."
The other four players: "…"
---
Meanwhile.
Da’ao City.
"Miss, he’s online!"
Xia Tongxin, who had been sprawled on her bed watching anime, suddenly received a message from the hacker she’d hired earlier. She immediately perked up.
Clenching her tiny fists, the pink-haired girl with a doll-like face wore an expression of "gnashing teeth" fury that clashed hilariously with her delicate appearance.
It looked more cute than intimidating—zero sense of actual anger.
"You jerk, I finally caught you!!!"
Xia Tongxin let out a battle cry of her own and logged in.
"Timmy!"
Her big, watery eyes burned with vengeful flames. For the past two days, she’d been mentally rehearsing the moment she’d defeat Ye Cheng, followed by the glorious humiliation she’d heap upon him.
She even dreamed about it at night, sometimes mistaking her plushies for imaginary versions of Ye Cheng and furiously "ORA ORA"-ing them to death.
After beating him up, she’d enter the victory screen, stomp on his virtual corpse, and mockingly call him "trash fish" a hundred times!
Then Ye Cheng would break down in tears, realize his mistakes, and beg for forgiveness—which she’d reluctantly grant…
This was Xia Tongxin’s diabolical revenge plan!
She’d spent the last day or two meticulously plotting this flawless scheme, certain it would reduce that bully to a sobbing wreck.
"Hehehe…" Xia Tongxin giggled to herself.
Even though she hadn’t succeeded yet, she could already picture her victory—her standing triumphantly over Ye Cheng, calling him trash fish while he groveled for mercy.
What she didn’t realize was that her "perfect" plan lacked any real malice or revenge. In fact, certain audiences might find it… stimulating.
Xia Tongxin was completely lost in her own artistic, "flawless" revenge fantasy.
The moment she saw Ye Cheng finish a match and exit the post-game lobby, she immediately sent him an invite.
"The player has declined your invitation!"
Xia Tongxin froze at the rejection, her cute face twisting in panic. She quickly sent another invite.
"The player has declined your invitation!"
"The player has declined…"
"The player…"
Her eyes widened as rejection notices kept popping up. The smug "everything’s going according to plan" look on her face melted into pitiful dismay.
Her lips puckered, eyes welling up with tears as she kept spamming the invite button with her tiny white hands.
"Wuwuwu… why won’t he accept? Wuwuwu… you jerk, hurry up and accept!! Wuwuwu…"
Xia Tongxin’s evil revenge plot seemed doomed before it even began. It had never occurred to her that Ye Cheng might just… ignore her invites.
Faced with this unexpected hurdle, Xia Tongxin’s single-core processor brain overheated. She was on the verge of crying from sheer frustration.
"Wuwuwu… you meanie… wuwuwu…"
Before the battle even started, Ye Cheng had already outplayed her.
Just as Xia Tongxin was about to sniffle in defeat, a new notification appeared.
"The player has accepted your invitation!"
g Yu was preparing for retirement when her organization decided to eliminate her. She transmigrated to a zombie apocalypse world. However, a tiny unexpected situation occurred: She somehow transformed into an adorable little girl?!
young master of the Shen family—a figure of immense power and wealth beyond measure—and awakened the "Destined Ultimate Villain System"! His starting scenario? Running into his icy fiancée who shows up with a mountain-descending divine doctor to break off their engagement. The divine doctor arrogantly taunts: "What does your Shen family have besides a bit of stinking money? You're not even worthy of tying Qingxue's shoelaces!" Shen Fei just smiled. He completely defied the usual script: "Fine, I agree to break off the engagement. Also, notify the finance department to withdraw all investments from the Su family." Minutes later, with its capital chain severed, the Su Group teetered on the brink of bankruptcy! The once aloof and proud ice queen CEO was thrown into utter panic. That very night, she went to Shen Fei's villa, casting aside all dignity to beg and plead desperately... From then on, in this world teeming with Sons of Destiny, Shen Fei embarked on a path of extreme dimensional suppression! A mountain-descending divine doctor? Peerless medical skills? Shen Fei: "Reporting you for practicing medicine without a license! I'll gladly take your ancient medicinal cauldron and twin sister assassins." The Crooked-Smiling Dragon King? Commanding a hundred thousand soldiers with a single order? Shen Fei: "Illegal assembly and suspected treason! Let a fleet of attack helicopters sanitize the area and teach you what the state apparatus really means!" A reborn tycoon? Knows all the golden opportunities of the next decade? Shen Fei: "A trillion in capital to reverse and pump the stock market, making you blow your margin and jump on the very first day of your rebirth!" What Chosen Ones? What bearers of Heavenly Fortune? In Shen Fei's eyes, they're all just chives (i.e., suckers/marks) waiting to be harvested! Shen Fei: "Sorry, but as the Destined Ultimate Villain, I don't play by the rules of honor. I only play the game of dimensional suppression."
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
