C47 — Deadly Lover

When the blinding golden light inside the villa faded, the rune-covered scroll turned to ashes as if it had been burned away completely.

Jiang Xingyu lay motionless on the ground, his fate unknown, while the other two figures had vanished without a trace.

“Where… am I?” Ichiro Toyama opened his eyes in confusion. “Wait—the ritual! Did the ritual succeed?”

He groped through the dense fog, realizing that his body had never felt so light before. Ever since he was diagnosed with cancer, he had never—wait. His breath?

Ichiro Toyama frantically clutched at his throat.

Where was his breath?!

Not just his breath—once he calmed down, he noticed something even more horrifying. His heart no longer beat. His entire body was cold, devoid of any warmth. Yet at the same time, he felt weightless, as if…

He was a ghost.

“This is impossible!”

His first thought was that he had fallen victim to an illusion cast by a vengeful ghost. He shut his eyes and tried to recite a purification mantra, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t speak. The moment he attempted to utter a single word, a searing pain, like boiling water scalding his throat, surged through him. The mantras—were rejecting him!

His hands trembled as despair took hold.

Impossible. He had spent three years preparing this ritual. Could it have failed just like that?

The abbot recalled what had transpired inside Jiang Xingyu’s mindscape. He had intended to provoke extreme resentment, but Zhuo Yu had gotten to it first, significantly weakening the ghost’s “Yin” energy. In his moment of rage, he …

He dared not think further. He was afraid—afraid that instead of harnessing the ritual’s power, he had become its “Yin,” while Jiang Xingyu had been cast as its “Yang.”

“Come out! I know you’re here!” The abbot howled in madness, kicking over the sofa and toppling the furniture. But no one responded.

It wasn’t until the vengeful ghost lurking in the shadows had seen enough that it slowly revealed itself.

“You’ve already figured it out, haven’t you?” Zhuo Yu waved a hand, dispersing the fog. His unfocused eyes locked on Ichiro Toyama, a sinister smile creeping across his lips. “You’re dead.”

“… I won’t die. I can’t be dead…” Ichiro Toyama, realizing his utter defeat, seemed to break. He muttered to himself, desperately trying to brainwash his own mind, as if clinging to the illusion that he was still alive.

“You were powerful in life, but in death—not so much.” Zhuo Yu propped his chin up, his eerie gaze gleaming like a predator eyeing its prey. “It seems like you’re not stronger than the me who swore a deadly oath. You aren’t even stronger than Jiang Xingyu. Your hatred isn’t enough.”

The ghost’s gaze was filled with contempt. “You’re not consumed by hatred—you’re consumed by fear and panic. In Japan, you were a disgrace despised by others. Even in Baoshan Temple, all you ever did was skulk around in the shadows, doing shameful deeds. You’re nothing but a rat lurking in the sewers—how could you ever compare to souls who have truly suffered?”

“Your future holds only death.”

Zhuo Yu no longer spared a glance at the defeated man. He raised the sword, even as his arm sizzled and corroded from its energy, the bone beneath beginning to show. But he didn’t let go. In one swift motion, he drove the blade straight through Ichiro Toyama’s chest, pinning him viciously to the ground.

“By the way,” Zhuo Yu said lazily as he flicked the sword, sending fresh waves of pain through his victim, “now that you’re dead, the curse you used to enslave vengeful ghosts has been broken. This is my domain now. And I invited some guests over.”

He clapped his hands, and from the shadows behind him, countless dark figures emerged.

They were the spirits that Ichiro Toyama had once enslaved.

“I… I remember now! It was you who killed my child and pushed my husband off the rooftop!”

“It was you who ruined my business, causing my entire family to go bankrupt!”

“You cast a spell to make my lover fall for someone else—I remember it clearly! You even boasted about it after I died!”

“You made me fail my college entrance exams and manipulated me into committing sui-cide!”

The accusations of countless vengeful spirits flooded over Ichiro Toyama like a raging tide. These ghosts, once brainwashed and ensla-ved by him, now hated him with a burning fury. They surged forward, tearing at his soul with their ghostly claws. The once-revered head priest of Baoshan Temple was now screaming like a drowning dog being beaten.

Soon, even his screams changed in tone.

The malicious ghosts were devouring him, tearing him apart piece by piece.

The pain of a soul being shredded was far worse than any physical agony. As Ichiro Toyama let out his final, despairing wails, Zhuo Yu received a system notification.

[Congratulations, actor Zhuo Yu, for achieving the hidden achievement: “The One Behind the Curtain.”]

[Main quest officially unlocked: Fulfill the Oath.]

Zhuo Yu lowered his gaze and waved his hand, dispelling the illusion. His seemingly intact legs changed in appearance.

The lower half of his soul was tattered, just as it had been when he had seen it at the lowest level of ‘Secrets of the Dark Beach’. However, during the ritual reversal just now, a surge of energy had left Jiang Xingyu’s body and entered his own.

This time, Zhuo Yu had witnessed it with his own eyes.

His soul—was slowly being restored.

“……” Zhuo Yu sighed. As expected, his connection with Number One wasn’t that simple.

His eyes fell upon the system’s red-lettered notification. To complete his wish—the curse he had sworn before his death—meant he could finally escape this film and bring the game to an end. He needed to give this movie its final conclusion.

Ichiro Toyama had been utterly annihilated, his soul completely erased. Meanwhile, the vengeful ghosts who had torn him apart now looked toward Zhuo Yu with uncertainty.

Zhuo Yu cut off any unnecessary words of gratitude or pleasantries. Now that he had become a vengeful ghost himself, he knew exactly what these ghosts wanted—total revenge. They could no longer tolerate Baoshan Temple’s existence.

He silently permitted them to follow him. The head priest was taken care of, but a much greater threat still remained.

Jiang Xingyu woke up.

In the real world, Jiang Xingyu opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was Zhuo Yu’s lifeless body on the ground, a gaping hole in his chest.

He didn’t even notice that he could now breathe, that his heart was beating, that his body temperature had returned to normal.

All he could do was hold Zhuo Yu’s corpse.

“What… have I done…?”

Jiang Xingyu’s body trembled. He remembered everything that had happened—how he had killed his lover multiple times, how he had watched his lover commit sui-cide right in front of him. The weight of it all was unbearable.

The cold heart that had once felt nothing now held emotions, warmth, and pain—making it impossible for him to remain indifferent.

So it was never Zhuo Yu’s fault.

In fact, it was he who had dragged Zhuo Yu down.

In the end, Zhuo Yu had given everything to reverse the ritual. Zhuo Yu had sacrificed too much for him.

Yet all Jiang Xingyu had held onto was hatred, suspicion, and an uncontrollable desire to kill.

Tears fell onto Zhuo Yu’s pale face, but no matter how many fell, they could never bring him back.

It was all his fault.

Jiang Xingyu numbly picked up a shard of glass and pressed it against his throat.

“Xiao Yu, I’ll come with you.”

Just as he was about to cut into his flesh, he felt a hand grasp his own.

“Your life belongs to me. You have no right to take it yourself.”

Zhuo Yu’s cold, emotionless voice rang out.

Jiang Xingyu looked up in surprise and joy, only to see a pale face. Zhuo Yu’s dark eyes were even deeper than before, his presence resembling a ghostly figure that had stepped out of an ink painting. He gazed indifferently at Jiang Xingyu’s hand.

Jiang Xingyu immediately dropped the glass shard and threw himself into Zhuo Yu’s arms.

“You’re still here.”

He was lying to himself. He knew—Zhuo Yu was already dead.

Not only had Zhuo Yu switched places with Ichiro Toyama, but his relationship with Jiang Xingyu had also undergone a complete reversal.

Jiang Xingyu had once been the deadly lover who sought to kill Zhuo Yu. But now, it was Zhuo Yu who had become truly lethal.

Jiang Xingyu was a living, unscathed human. Meanwhile, Zhuo Yu had become a vengeful spirit, filled only with resentment and hatred, no longer capable of love.

Jiang Xingyu’s life and death were now entirely in Zhuo Yu’s hands.

“I wronged you. Kill me—I’ll stay with you, how about that?”

Zhuo Yu pushed him away.

Looking into Jiang Xingyu’s almost manic gaze, he realized—he had once again won against Number One.

The human Jiang Xingyu had fallen in love with him once more.

But this time, Zhuo Yu could no longer reciprocate.

He wordlessly patted Jiang Xingyu’s back. It seemed like a gesture of comfort, yet also one of pity.

“Don’t let what I did go to waste. What right do you have to die?”

Jiang Xingyu laughed—perhaps in despair, perhaps with hope. Then, he kissed the cold lips of the vengeful ghost.

Three days later, peace returned to the Jiang Villa.

Since the main suspect in the case was dead, Luo Musheng and Liu Jingyun’s deaths became yet another unsolved mystery.

Jiang Xingyu’s resurrection barely caused any ripples. He had no family, and the only person connected to him was Zhuo Yu. When medical institutions examined him, they confirmed he was indeed the previously deceased Jiang Xingyu. His death certificate was dismissed as a hospital misjudgment.

It was only when Jiang Xingyu received the property deed for the villa that he realized—Zhuo Yu had written his name on it from the very beginning.

Zhuo Yu had wanted to spend the rest of their lives together.

Jiang Xingyu turned on the television. The local news was broadcasting the disappearance of the Baoshan Temple’s head priest on repeat.

He glanced at the empty space beside him and smiled softly.

“Baby, when do you plan to go?”

“Tonight? Should we go with some friends?”

Jiang Xingyu got up and pulled open the curtains, sighing.

“The wind is really strong today.”

That night, a raging fire broke out, fanned by the strong winds.

Baoshan Temple was engulfed in flames. The entire main hall, along with the mountaintop, burned fiercely.

The disciples called the fire department, but the firefighters struggled to reach the peak. The temple’s abbots had no choice but to fetch water from the well in a desperate attempt to extinguish the fire, but it was futile.

By the time the firefighters finally climbed the mountain, Baoshan Temple had been reduced to ashes.

Countless lives were lost.

Only a handful of newly initiated disciples survived, their eyes filled with nothing but terror and confusion.

The firefighters had no idea what kind of horror had unfolded there the previous night.

Amidst the raging flames, a group had stormed into the main hall, mercilessly slaughtering the cultivators who had been using ghosts as sacrificial puppets.

Their targets were exclusively those who had been personally trained by Ichiro Toyama.

Some sharp-eyed disciples recognized the man leading the attack—it was Zhuo Ran, someone who had once been very close to the head priest.

Zhuo Ran led his team in a massacre.

The artifacts the temple had painstakingly gathered did nothing to harm the vengeful spirits. Instead, they were turned against Baoshan Temple’s own ghostly minions.

To survive, Zhuo Ran had no choice but to obey Zhuo Yu’s commands.

To him, it was an unbearable humiliation.

But he dared not lash out at Zhuo Yu.

All he could do was vent his rage on the targets Zhuo Yu had ordered him to eliminate.

The disciples died in horrific ways.

The ones wreaking havoc were not just the Tianxiang Guild—there were also the ghosts who had once been enslaved by Ichiro Toyama. After Zhuo Yu freed them, these vengeful ghosts took it upon themselves to seek revenge, turning Baoshan Temple into a living hell.

Once the great fire burned through everything, all traces would be erased.

In a single night, Baoshan Temple was wiped out.

Afterward, Zhuo Ran and his group turned themselves in, claiming that they had killed Zhuo Ran’s younger brother out of jealousy and greed. But after his brother’s death, guilt tormented him day and night, and he now sought legal punishment to free himself from his psychological burden.

Of course, this was also Zhuo Yu’s demand.

Spending time in a movie’s prison was far better than dying for real. Zhuo Ran knew exactly what choice to make. His life was in Zhuo Yu’s hands, and at this point, winning or losing didn’t matter—he just wanted to survive.

With that, everyone involved in persecuting Zhuo Yu had been dealt with.

In the heart of the city, Jiang Xingyu watched the frontline news report on TV. The suffocating weight in his chest finally lifted. He turned off the television and murmured, “Now, no one can disturb us ever again.”

He sat on the sofa, quietly waiting for his lover to come home.

—He would spend the rest of his life making amends.

[Main quest completed.]

[Congratulations, actor Zhuo Yu. The film has officially wrapped, and the projection screen has been turned off. Please step into the flames. You will leave the film set in five minutes.]

[Countdown: 4:59… 4:58…]

“Aren’t you going to go in and see him?” Liu Jingyun asked, a hint of sympathy in her voice.

Zhuo Yu looked at the silver flames rising in the void. He knew—Number One had come to fetch him.

“No need. Let’s go.”

Zhuo Yu withdrew his gaze. The characters in these films were merely passing figures. Once he left, time in this world would freeze at this moment. Jiang Xingyu would wait for him forever, but in the movie’s reality, it would only be an instant.

The three of them stepped into the flames, bringing ‘Deadly Lover’ to a final close.

“You did it.”

The sensation of falling disappeared.

Zhuo Yu opened his eyes and found himself in a strange space, similar to his guild base when he hadn’t redeemed anything. Between heaven and earth, only a vast silver glow remained.

Jiang Xingyu stood before him.

No—this was Number One, wearing Jiang Xingyu’s face.

“Baby, you’ve won another round.”

With a casual wave of his hand, Number One made the darkness and resentment in Zhuo Yu’s heart melt away like snow. The identity of a vengeful ghost completely left him, and his emotions were no longer influenced by its presence.

“It’s been a while.”

Zhuo Yu pointed at his legs. “Aren’t you going to explain this?”

Number One smoothly changed the subject. “I still remember what you promised me. You said you’d take a step closer.”

Zhuo Yu narrowed his eyes slightly. Clearly, Number One had no intention of answering.

Fine. Another challenge.

If Number One wouldn’t tell him, he would find the answer himself.

“I’m right here. You can come closer anytime.” Zhuo Yu teased. “Judges can’t secretly meet with actors, but they can do it openly.”

Number One chuckled. “Alright then, don’t keep your friends waiting too long. I’ll come find you—openly.”

With a snap of his fingers, the sky darkened instantly, just like the bar where most of the screens had been turned off, with only a few split screens still lit, symbolizing that there were actors still fighting in the film.

But most of the audience had lost interest in watching the survivors.

Because they had already watched the most complete storyline.

The one played out by the Knight Flame Guild.

“Damn. If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t have the guts to crush my own heart.”

“Is this what it means to be both brave and smart?”

“I’m officially a fan now. Honestly, I feel ashamed for ever mocking Zhuo Yu.”

“Voting time. Knight Flame Guild’s votes just jumped to third place!”

The audience following Zhuo Yu’s actions were buzzing with discussion. Even the members of the Flying Scythe Guild had a newfound impression of him.

The vice guild leader smacked his lips. “No wonder you can’t stop thinking about him.”

Dong Yao finally relaxed his clenched fist. “His film was highly complete. It looks like the conclusion of the preliminary competition is clear. In terms of scoring, the Knight Flame Guild might not make the top ten, since there are plenty of strategy teams with strong foundations, and Zhuo Yu is still a newcomer. But in terms of votes? That’s another story.”

He glanced back at the spot he had been paying attention to earlier, only to find that the silver-clad man had disappeared at some point. All that remained was a woman in a witch’s hat, leisurely sipping her drink, her entire posture relaxed.

“Let’s go.” Dong Yao lost interest in watching further. It was time to prepare for the plan Zhuo Yu had crafted for him.

—

On the other side, Zhuo Yu and his team had returned to the blazing Guild base.

[Calculating this session’s earnings…]

[Cleared the highest difficulty Slasher film. Reward: 5,000 Flame Points.]

[Achieved S-rank ending: True Ending. Reward: 5,000 Flame Points.]

[Completed S-rank hidden mission. Reward: 5,000 Flame Points + one spin on the random item wheel.]

[Bounty reward: 2,000 Flame Points.]

[Overall rating: S.]

[The preliminary competition has ended. Results will be announced in three days—stay tuned.]

“Damn, this place is like a hellhole.” Luo Musheng muttered as he looked around at the heavily modified base. Somehow, it felt more like a horror movie set than the actual film location.

The moment they arrived, they stepped into a sea of fire—something Zhuo Yu had exchanged to train endurance. The roaring flames had scorched the ground to a deep, burnt brown. Though the fire wouldn’t physically harm them, the heat was real, and in no time, Luo Musheng was drenched in sweat.

But that wasn’t all. The fire-ridden terrain was scattered with military-style obstacle courses—mud pits with rolling logs, low-crawl nets, and a variety of grueling challenges forming a single path forward.

Beyond the training grounds stood a towering mountain, its surface made entirely of blades, with barely any footholds. Even a world-class rock-climbing champion would struggle to reach the peak. The actors had to come up with their own ways to conquer this near-impossible trial.

The most terrifying part? Even if someone managed to balance on the razor-sharp peak, the entire mountain was shrouded in a gravity field. The moment they set foot on it, the force could easily drive the blades straight through their feet.

“Is it even possible for someone to get through this?” Liu Jingyun, one of the most agile actors, doubted she could even climb two meters.

Zhuo Yu, having just returned from Number One’s space, took a moment to recover before answering, “The point isn’t whether it can be used—it’s a symbol. If reaching the top of Knight Flame’s Blade Mountain represents strength, do you think we’d ever run out of challengers? It’s like the saying, ‘He who has not climbed the Great Wall is not a true hero.’ It’s just a mark of prestige.”

Luo Musheng’s eyes lit up. “You really thought this through.”

“This is just the prototype. I don’t plan on wasting my expertise. Later, I’ll build a set simulating a Japanese horror film scene in the base. I’ll even release real vengeful ghosts inside. There will definitely be people who want to train their courage.” Zhuo Yu pointed to another empty space. “Over there, we can simulate a zombie attack or a slasher chase.”

Luo Musheng chuckled. “So you’re basically recreating a film set inside the film set?”

“Something like that—like a mock exam.” Zhuo Yu casually bought a camera and took photos of the Knight Flame base, carefully documenting the professional training equipment. “Go post this on the Starflame Forum. Our popularity must be through the roof right now—this is the best free advertising.”

Luo Musheng nodded, then decided to contact his sister, thinking she might want to try training at Knight Flame first.

—
[Private Chat Channel]

Luo Musheng: Xiao Ou, I’ve got a special offer for you. Want in?

Luo Xiaoou: Get lost. I just got promoted to main attacker in gods’ Guild—you’re not going to trick me into anything.

Luo Musheng: Would your own brother deceive you? Fine, forget it then.

Luo Xiaoou: Yeah, right. You’re definitely up to no good. You should be focusing on Judge One instead. You’ve been hanging around Zhuo Yu for so long—have you found any clues about him?

Luo Musheng: Uh… I kinda forgot.

Luo Xiaoou: Idiot!

Luo Musheng sighed. He really had been enjoying his time with Zhuo Yu. The dungeons were thrilling, and he’d nearly forgotten that his original goal was to investigate Judge One—the rumored higher being who could create films.

But he wasn’t in a hurry. Someone like that wouldn’t be easy to track down in just a few days. Right now, he was more focused on the joy of filming alongside Knight Flame.

Closing the private chat, he got to work. He carefully crafted a long post, categorized and uploaded the photos, and shared the base’s coordinates with an open teleportation option. He marketed it as a training ground for actors, with a daily entry fee of just 50 Flame Points—a price Zhuo Yu had personally set.

—

[Starflame Forum]

Knight Flame’s bold move quickly attracted a flood of onlookers.

“A training ground? Damn, that’s actually a great idea. Looks legit too.”

“Yeah, the system allows us to visit guild bases. Are they opening an actor training camp?”

“Why do I kinda want to go?”

“I wanna visit, even if it’s not for training. I just want to see Zhuo Yu in person. (fangirling)

“I feel like Zhuo Yu is basically doing charity work. These facilities all required Flame Points to get, right? Who has that kind of spare FP to build a public training ground? Even the top guilds are too busy spending points on skills to afford this. Only someone like Zhuo Yu, who clears dungeons with sheer intelligence, could save up enough.”

“Guys, I’m going in first! I’ll check it out and report back!”

—

Within ten minutes, the Knight Flame Guild welcomed its first batch of visitors.

They were all actors who had been closely following Knight Flame’s activities. In other words—fans.

Zhuo Yu’s fans.

Since the guild wasn’t restricted to actors, a large portion of the visitors were ordinary spectators. They weren’t here to train; they just wanted to see Zhuo Yu in person. Spending 50 Flame Points on that was totally worth it.

“Damn, it’s hot as hell in here. What’s going on?”

“I feel like my stamina is draining super fast…”

Some experienced actors quickly noticed the intense effects of the fire field. A few even started documenting their experiences in real time.

Meanwhile, the non-actor visitors, who hadn’t exchanged any physical endurance upgrades, were already sweating buckets. As they wiped their foreheads, they searched for the base’s structures—only to be met with the towering, cloud-piercing Blade Mountain.

Just looking at the countless razor-sharp blades sent shivers down their spines.

One of the visitors, feeling dizzy from the heat, stumbled and accidentally bumped into someone beside him.

“Ah! Sorry!”

The dazed tourist turned to apologize, only to see a man clad in a silver robe and mask standing beside him.

The man neither got angry nor responded. He simply stood there, silent and indifferent, as if evaluating everything before him.

 

What a strange guy.

 

---

TN:

Number one is hereeeee 🎉

ZY needs to show him some love 😭