"Master? Teach her to kill?"
Zhong Yi's expression darkened. His first reaction was refusal.
As a true disciple of a renowned orthodox sect, how could he corrupt a young girl?
Meanwhile, Su Di'er continued speaking eagerly.
"I can work for you. Don’t underestimate me—I’m very capable..."
"I can wash clothes, clean rooms, and... um, cook..."
"Anyway, I’ll take care of everything as payment for your teachings. How about it?"
Seeing the hopeful glimmer in the girl’s eyes, Zhong Yi shook his head.
"No."
The firmness of his rejection even caused his "Behavior Score" to spike sharply.
Su Di'er froze mid-sentence, swallowing back the words she had been about to say.
The light in her eyes dimmed by half.
"Then..."
Her brows furrowed slightly, lips trembling with sorrow.
"What should I do? I... I have no home left..."
Faced with such a pitiful sight, Zhong Yi was at a loss.
Truthfully, he wanted to help Su Di'er—to slaughter those beasts from the Demon-Suppression Division himself.
Even if it meant tackling an impossibly difficult dungeon, dying a hundred or a thousand times, Zhong Yi would find a way.
But "Li Ang" wouldn’t allow it.
Any attempt to answer in a way that deviated from the role would be blocked by the "Behavior Roleplay System."
Players controlled the character "Li Ang," not themselves.
Only this lonely, soft-hearted yet bloodstained contradiction of a man could weave a story that left players with lingering sorrow.
Lu Ze’s Behavior Roleplay System ensured players had some freedom while preserving the story’s intended direction.
Otherwise, most players would choose to teach Su Di'er’s father a lesson on the first day, stop the Demon-Suppression Division from harming her on the second, and storm their headquarters by the third...
At key moments, the system would nudge players back onto the narrative path.
Through this tug-of-war, players would immerse themselves deeper into Li Ang’s role.
For instance, earlier, Zhong Yi had wanted to open the door, but the system prevented him.
At first, it deducted 10 points, then gradually reduced it to 3, then 1...
This reflected the inner turmoil of a solitary assassin.
"You just narrowly escaped death... Go rest. We’ll talk tomorrow."
Zhong Yi sighed, opting to delay the matter.
Watching Su Di'er nod obediently, his pity for her grew heavier.
From a dusty wooden cabinet, he pulled out a grayish-blue quilt and clumsily draped it over her.
Su Di'er, still recovering from her ordeal, looked pale and exhausted, her eyelids drooping weakly.
"You’re so kind to me, Li Ang."
She gazed at him intently, speaking each word deliberately.
"And it won’t stop here."
Then, from beneath the covers, she extended a small hand, gently grasping Li Ang’s rough fingers.
"Goodnight."
Her eyes closed, and soon her breathing steadied into sleep.
Zhong Yi stood frozen for a long time.
Only when the Behavior Score in the upper-right corner began dropping did he snap out of it, carefully withdrawing his fingers from her grasp.
Tiptoeing, he blew out the candle and watched the sleeping girl, emotions churning inside him.
The live chat erupted in outrage.
[How can you tolerate this? You HAVE to avenge her!!]
[You think the streamer doesn’t want to? It’s that damned Lu Ze’s system stopping him!]
[Technically, it’s Li Ang refusing.]
[We can’t let her fall into the demonic path...]
[I get it, but... she held my hand and said "You’re so kind"...]
Just then, Zhong Yi’s quest updated.
[Main Quest: Sit quietly on the chair by the greenery.]
Following the prompt, Li Ang took a seat.
The room was pitch-black, save for moonlight spilling over the potted plant on the windowsill.
Suddenly, Zhong Yi felt his body move against his will—
Or rather, control was returned to its rightful owner: "Li Ang."
Li Ang stood abruptly, swiftly retrieving a dagger from his assassination toolkit.
He strode to Su Di'er’s bedside.
Shing.
The blade slid free, its edge gleaming cold silver in the dark, runes faintly pulsing.
The tip hovered inches above the girl’s forehead.
The sight terrified Zhong Yi—and the thousands watching.
The chat exploded.
[???]
[NO!]
[Zhong Yi, what are you doing!?]
[Wait, it’s not Zhong Yi—it’s the character’s true self!]
[Ugh, demonic cultivators! Not a single decent one among them!]
[If Su Di'er dies, I’m smashing this Illusion Crystal!]
[Wait... Look! Li Ang seems conflicted too!]
The dagger remained suspended, unmoving.
After a long pause, Li Ang exhaled sharply and sheathed the blade, turning away.
"Damn, that scared me... I thought I messed up..."
Regaining control, Zhong Yi patted his chest in relief.
Then came the familiar "flashback" segment—a god’s-eye retelling of events, presented like a film.
Despite knowing the story, Zhong Yi and his audience never tired of rewatching.
The cinematography, framing, and emotional beats were masterful.
Especially the scene where Su Di'er, tears streaming, knocked desperately on Li Ang’s door—
Then, as a sliver of light fell across her face, the composition was breathtaking.
Several high-profile viewers immediately showered Zhong Yi’s stream with lavish gifts.
Later, when Li Ang wrestled with his inner demons before lowering the dagger, everyone held their breath.
Morning arrived.
Still immersed in the flashback, Zhong Yi enjoyed the moment—
Until he saw Su Di'er wake up, her hair a tangled mess, and chuckled.
But his amusement vanished quickly.
Because Li Ang still intended to send her away.
"After this meal, you leave."
"Go where?"
"Anywhere. It’s none of my concern."
Watching Su Di'er’s lips droop in disappointment, Zhong Yi’s heart ached.
A moment later, she handed Li Ang a note she’d prepared earlier.
Li Ang couldn’t read, but Zhong Yi could.
In a child’s scrawl, it said:
"I want to become a killer like Li Ang."
In that instant, Zhong Yi's resolve wavered, and he even considered taking her as his disciple.
But Li Ang in the story suddenly flared up with anger.
"You want to be an assassin? Fine, take these."
He grabbed a few talismans inscribed with eerie patterns and slammed them onto the table in front of Su Di'er.
"Bite your finger, smear them with blood, and you can kill. Go on—kill them. Consider this my farewell gift."
"But don’t follow me anymore. I prefer to walk alone."
ut it can buy an entire year of absolutely perfect training results! Su Yu stared at his empty wallet and decisively opened up various online loan platforms. “Borrow a thousand bucks! Recharge my vitality!” Boom! His vitality broke a hundred points, shattering the limits of the human body! “Borrow ten thousand bucks! Recharge my combat skills!” Boom! A basic punching technique so common it was everywhere instantly maxed out, revealing the ultimate assassination technique of Five Elements Unity—Inner Force! When a rich kid hired assassins for a midnight ambush, aiming to break both of his legs, they instead ran headfirst into a monster—a human-shaped tyrannosaur, brimming with dragon-like vitality. With just two fingers, Su Yu snapped a steel staff reinforced with alloy. Staring at the killer’s stash of stolen cash—a staggering quarter-million dollars—he showed a corporate-sincere smile: “Thanks for the pre-exam gift pack, Mr. Zhao! I’m gonna go re-invest this!” Three days later, at the National Martial Arts College Entrance Exam, while everyone else struggled just to reach the passing line, Su Yu threw a single punch—and more than a thousand vitality points literally detonated the entire arena!
grated, and just when he finally managed to get into an elite academy, he discovered that he actually had a system, and the way to earn rewards was extremely ridiculous. So for the sake of rewards, he had no choice but to start acting ridiculous as well. Su Cheng: "It's nothing but system quests after all." But later, what confused Su Cheng was that while he was already quite ridiculous, he never expected those serious characters to gradually become ridiculous too. And the way they looked at him became increasingly strange... (This synopsis doesn't do it justice, please read the full story)
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
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.
