C69 — Seeing Isn’t Believing

In that moment, the psychology teacher looked on in satisfaction as he saw the large cocoon forming inside the girl in front of him. Within the cocoon, a fully developed adult insect subtly writhed, pushing up the outer surface with the firm, flexible frame of its wings visible from within.

It was feeding on the tender flesh and blood of the young girl’s body, emitting a slow, deliberate chewing sound—like a silkworm munching on a leaf.

Song Hong’s voice trembled slightly. He tugged at the girl’s sleeve beside him and softly called out, “Ah Xue?”

There was no response.

The silence made Song Hong’s heart sink even further. A trace of regret began to rise in him. Ah Xue had always been a reliable partner—he never imagined what kind of situation could cause her to lose control.

She was the type who could stay calm even with a knife stuck in her flesh.

But this copy, this scenario, seemed to have struck her most vulnerable point—and that gave Song Hong a very bad feeling. His nerves stretched taut as he suddenly stepped forward to shield the girl behind him, eyes alert to the NPC in front of them, ready to block any further psychologically manipulative remarks.

But the young psychology teacher simply smiled—an infuriatingly generous kind of smile. He no longer looked at the two of them, instead shifting his gaze to Kou Dong.

“Your complexion doesn’t look too good either,” he said in a deep, comforting voice, gently stroking the delicate skin beneath Kou Dong’s eye, “Come back with me. I’ll give you some medicine, hmm?”

Kou Dong thought for only a second before replying decisively.

“Sure.”

At that moment, the man across from him froze in surprise. He stared at Kou Dong as though unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Sure,” Kou Dong repeated, lifting his eyes to meet the teacher’s. In contrast to the man’s eyes, which were shining with sudden joy and surprise, Kou Dong’s gaze was dark and cool, calm and detached. “I’d like to consult with Teacher Si too.”

Song Hong: “……???”

Wait, he didn’t get it—this NPC was clearly up to no good, so why was Kou Dong actually agreeing to go with him?

Wasn’t this like sending a lamb into a wolf’s mouth?

Song Hong was getting anxious, but didn’t know how to say anything aloud. All he could do was shoot meaningful glances at Kou Dong. Kou Dong, however, acted like he didn’t see them at all. He said calmly, “I just wonder if it’s convenient for Teacher Si.”

The psychology teacher appeared almost overly pleased, his excitement seeping from every invisible pore on his face.

“How could it be inconvenient?” he replied. “You’re welcome anytime.”

He took a courteous step back and extended an arm like a gentleman, guiding the way toward his office.

Kou Dong didn’t move.

The teacher’s gaze suddenly sharpened a bit, his tone turning colder.

“What’s wrong? Regret it already?”

Kou Dong shook his head.

“No,” he replied slowly, casually tossing out a thunderbolt of a statement, “It’s just that your office might not be the most convenient place. If Teacher Si doesn’t mind… can I go to your dorm instead?”

Everyone present: “……??!!!”

What the heck kind of bold move was this?!

It was one thing to be alone with the NPC, but now he was asking to go to his dorm?!

Was he in a hurry to die or something?!

The group was completely dumbfounded. When they turned to look at the NPC again, they saw his expression had changed—his eyes had grown deep and shadowy, and the smile on his lips had become impossible to describe. From Song Hong’s perspective, that smile looked like someone who had just won the lottery, he couldn’t hide it.

But it was just like a fat little lamb jumping straight into the wolf’s den, no matter how you looked at it, there was something deeply suspicious about all of this.

Song Hong’s heart was practically trembling. If Kou Dong had been standing right in front of him, he might’ve smacked him upside the head just to check if he’d lost his mind. He swallowed hard and tried to salvage things for his teammate. “He didn’t mean it like that…”

But the teammate who had no sense of danger immediately followed up, “No, that’s exactly what I meant.”

Song Hong: “……”

He really wanted to scream—Bro, you can’t keep dancing on the edge of death like this!

If you keep pulling stunts like that, not even the gods can save you—are you actively trying to die?

There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but with the NPC right there, none of them could be spoken aloud. He could only watch helplessly as Kou Dong walked off, following behind the young psychology teacher.

Maybe to prevent him from backing out halfway, the teacher kept glancing over his shoulder at Kou Dong as they walked. Eventually, he slowed down to walk side by side with him.

As Kou Dong passed by Song Hong, he whispered, “Don’t worry.”

Song Hong’s expression was deadpan as he stared at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said it so casually.

He somewhat understood what Kou Dong was thinking. The three of them had circled the school building once and didn’t find anything useful. It was likely that the important clue in this instance wasn’t in the school. In that case, the psychology teacher’s personal quarters—as a key NPC—became like a hidden map waiting to be explored.

But before this, the plan had always been to steal the NPC’s key and sneak in while he was teaching. Honestly, Song Hong figured that was what any normal person would do.

…Who the hell just walked up to the NPC and asked to go into their private room?!

And the kicker was—the NPC actually agreed?!

Not to be rude, but damn, big bro—since when were NPCs this easy to talk into unlocking bonus maps?!

He watched Kou Dong walk farther and farther away and just felt utterly exhausted.

One teammate had come into this game copy ready to kill, blade drawn at all times. Another had just done the wildest thing possible—marching straight into the enemy’s lair on his own. What kind of luck was this? Ever since they arrived in this copy, each teammate was more of a handful than the last.

—

The psychology teacher’s dorm was cleaner and more well-kept than expected. The furniture was minimalistic in color—mostly black, white, and gray—giving off a cold, restrained atmosphere.

“Tea or milk?”

Kou Dong was still surveying the room when he heard the man’s question. He snapped back to reality and replied, “Tea.”

The psychology teacher, with his back to him, opened an unusually large refrigerator—oddly oversized for a single-person dorm. Kou Dong’s view was blocked by the man’s figure, but he could barely make out some colorful objects stored inside. The glimpse was fleeting, too brief to identify anything clearly. Then the man reached up and pulled a can of milk from the top shelf, placing it slowly into the microwave.

“Drink milk,” he said blandly. “That’s how you grow taller.”

Kou Dong: “……”

He had a very strong urge to curse right then and there.

“I’m not short!”

It was just that this copy compressed his height, okay?! In real life, he was 178 cm!

The psychology teacher’s narrow eyes squinted slightly, and there seemed to be a trace of a smile hiding within.

He crossed his legs on the chair and gestured for Kou Dong to sit. “Have a seat.”

Truthfully, the dorm was quite simple. Just a standard one-bedroom unit with a private bath, containing only the essentials: a bed, a table, and a chair.

Now that the man had taken the chair, Kou Dong had no choice but to sit on the bed.

But because of that strange, inexplicable look in the man’s eyes, Kou Dong really had no desire to sit on it. He couldn’t even say for sure if it was just his imagination, but he felt that the moment he touched the edge of those bedsheets, he might never be able to get back up again.

Still, he couldn’t stand the entire time, could he?

Kou Dong looked around and then simply rose to his toes, pushed some books off the table, and not-so-elegantly plopped himself down on the desktop.

The psychology teacher’s smile seemed to freeze.

Truthfully, Kou Dong didn’t expect him to be pleased. This NPC always wore glasses and looked refined and proper, his pants so perfectly creased they could’ve been used as rulers, and not a speck of dust on the floor—he looked exactly like an obsessively clean Virgo.

Well—what could he say? Kou Dong just loved doing things that irritated NPCs.

So he got even more relaxed, letting his legs dangle off the table, placing his slightly sweaty hands right on the tabletop. As expected, the man’s smile became even more forced, practically frozen stiff.

“So sorry to trouble you, Teacher Si,” Kou Dong said with a beaming smile.

Disgusted, aren’t you? Hopefully you’re completely repulsed. And if this gives you a mental breakdown, even better.

The man’s gaze was heavy as it landed on his hands. His throat moved as he swallowed, and only after a moment did he lean back in his chair.

“No,” he said. “You’re always welcome.”

Keep pretending, you perv, Kou Dong thought.

He didn’t try to spar with words and just asked plainly, “Teacher Si seems very excited. Do students not usually come here?”

The psychology teacher replied, “How could they possibly get in?”

He studied the boy in front of him, gaze lingering briefly on Kou Dong’s slender neck before shifting back to his face.

“Tell me—what’s been troubling you?”

Kou Dong’s troubles weren’t exactly real or fake—he vaguely said he’d been feeling afraid lately due to a string of strange events. Though it wasn’t fully convincing, it also wasn’t unreasonable. The NPC didn’t seem surprised at all. In fact, he stood and brought over a cup of warm milk.

“Have some milk,” the man said, placing the porcelain cup in front of him. “It’ll help calm your nerves.”

Kou Dong was cautious of the NPC. He only let his lips touch the rim of the cup, pretending to drink. It wasn’t clear if the young psychology teacher noticed, but his lips curled faintly in what might’ve been a knowing smile.

“Do you have any ways to help me?”

“There are plenty,” the man replied, tapping the armrest lazily. His voice lowered a pitch, “As long as you listen to your teacher.”

His voice was deep and elegant, reminiscent of a musical instrument. At that moment, a soft violin piece began playing from the speakers beside them. He flexed his fingers gently and began speaking slowly to Kou Dong.

“When did you start feeling afraid?”

“From the beginning.”

“Is that so? What kind of images make you feel sick?”

Kou Dong replied, “Seeing corpses…”

As he spoke, he casually braced a hand on the table. He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination, but the surface of the table seemed to soften slightly, as if he were slowly sinking into a pool of warm water.

At the same time, his eyelids grew heavier, drooping to the point where his upper and lower lashes were about to tangle.

Kou Dong’s mind tensed—he realized he’d likely fallen into a trap.

Subtly, he glanced around the room, pinched his palm hard, and felt a sharp stab of pain. The pain helped clear his head a little, and with that, he finally noticed a faint fragrance lingering in the air.

When he first entered the room, that scent hadn’t been there. It had gradually appeared after he came in—and yet, he hadn’t noticed it at all until he was already fully surrounded by it.

Kou Dong threw a fastball straight at the man, directly asking what the smell was.

The psychology teacher clearly hadn’t expected him to catch on so quickly. He smiled faintly and simply replied that there was incense burning in the room.

Kou Dong said politely, “Teacher, could you put it out? I’m a little allergic to that smell.”

His tone was perfectly reasonable—there was no flaw in his request. Even if the NPC didn’t want to put it out, he couldn’t come up with a reason not to. After all, he was playing the role of a teacher. He couldn’t blatantly ignore a student’s request.

After a short silence, the man blew out one of the sticks in the small incense burner.

Yet Kou Dong still felt like he couldn’t breathe easily. He stood up and said, “I’m going to open a window…”

The window was just in front of the desk. Kou Dong reached out and slowly pushed it open a crack. As he did, he vaguely caught sight of something black. When he pushed the window open wider, he realized it was a car parked downstairs.

The logo was partly hidden behind a tree branch sticking out above it, but from the sleek and unusual curves of the visible half, it was clearly an expensive luxury car.

A thought flashed through Kou Dong’s mind in an instant—then he narrowed his eyes.

A car being parked wasn’t strange. But the more Kou Dong looked at this particular one, the more familiar it seemed.

Like… he’d seen it before.

And yet, it wasn’t the kind of car he could afford.

He suddenly heard quiet breathing above his head—the psychology teacher had come up behind him at some point and was now standing right behind him.

“What is it?”

Kou Dong didn’t turn around. “That car downstairs—does it belong to you?”

A strange intuition flared up in his chest, like he’d just missed something very important. Something crucial had slipped away from him a moment ago, and he hadn’t managed to catch it.

The psychology teacher answered, “Yes.”

He looked out the window and asked again, “Why?”

Kou Dong didn’t respond, but an unspeakable sense of wrongness twisted in his gut. He stared at the car for a long moment before finally shaking his head.

“No, it’s nothing.”

Before the man could continue the conversation, Kou Dong took the initiative and said, “I feel a bit dizzy. Teacher, could you pour me some water?”

The psychology teacher adjusted his thin gold-rimmed glasses. Behind the lenses, his amber eyes gleamed faintly—but he didn’t say anything and walked into the kitchen.

Kou Dong watched him disappear inside and then immediately lunged forward a few steps to the fridge.

Now was the time!

He had felt something off since first entering the place. For a man who lived alone, the refrigerator was far too large.

A double-door fridge, no less! What did this NPC need that much space for? Was he doing science experiments about fitting elephants into refrigerators?

The man’s tall back was still turned as he busied himself in the kitchen. Kou Dong held his breath and yanked the fridge door open—

It was almost completely empty.

Only two cans of milk sat inside. That colorful flash he thought he’d seen earlier? Probably just his imagination.

Unconvinced, Kou Dong reached inside and groped around. Nothing—until he brushed his fingers along the edge and touched a fine layer of phosphorus powder, faintly glowing against his fingertip.

Suddenly, a voice came from behind him.

“The water’s ready.”

Kou Dong looked up, and his eyes met the psychology teacher’s exactly.

The teacher stood there, calm and smiling faintly. He looked warm and approachable, almost gentle.

His crisp white shirt, for once, wasn’t perfectly tucked in. The whole image made him seem… unusually casual, even homey.

But to Kou Dong, that smile was anything but comforting.

Kou Dong was caught red-handed while looking for clues, but he didn’t show any embarrassment—he naturally closed the fridge door.

“Oh, I was just checking if Mr. Si had any bottled water in the fridge. I didn’t expect it to be so clean.”

The NPC replied, “I’m not home very often.”

Kou Dong thought to himself, You’re a single guy that doesn’t stay at home—what, out planting your little butterflies somewhere else?

“My partner passed away a few years ago,” the NPC said as he set the glass of water back on the table. “After that, I didn’t really want to come home anymore.”

He slowly looked around the room and said softly, “It still feels like his presence lingers here.”

There was a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“I still remember how he cried here…”

Kou Dong got goosebumps. After surviving several of these game instances, he was no longer the sweet, naive romance streamer who believed every game was all fluff and love. In a typical dating game, “crying” might just mean the person was sad, and the NPC would comfort them, talk about life and dreams, then lean together tenderly—standard playbook.

But in this game where everyone was a psycho, Kou Dong couldn’t help but associate that “crying” with something else entirely.

It wasn’t that he had a dirty mind.

It was that this game was rotten to the core.

 

He took a step back, a creeping sense of being hunted tightening in his chest.

The psychology teacher was calmly fiddling with his well-trimmed nails.

“He cried so hard that time,” the man said gently, “Tears all over his face. He couldn’t even stand; he just leaned on me, trembling…”

“He was absolutely beautiful then.”

He liked delicate butterflies he could hold in the palm of his hand.

Kou Dong could almost hear the fluttering of wings again. He stepped back once more, throat inexplicably tightening. “Teacher, I think I’ll be going now.”

—This was really starting to look bad.

“No rush,” the psychology teacher said kindly. “There’s nothing waiting at the dorm, is there? Why not stay a little longer? Is there anything you’d like to eat? I’ll cook it for you.”

Kou Dong wouldn’t dare eat anything he cooked—at this rate it looked more like the NPC was about to eat him. He silently calculated his chances in a fight, eyes flicking to the door.

But the NPC was right in front of him, gripping his shoulder tightly. Kou Dong couldn’t break free.

He was getting angry.

“You—”

Just then, a voice suddenly shouted from downstairs: “Kou Dong!”

Kou Dong froze.

It was a clean male voice, youthful and slightly inexperienced.

“Kou—Dong!”

The voice was louder this time, calling again.

Kou Dong snapped out of it and quickly stepped to the window, calling out: “I’m here! Who’s looking for me?”

The wind blew his hair up as he leaned out and looked down. He saw the face of a young boy looking up at him. The boy’s features were dark and well-defined, especially his long lashes, and his profile looked clean and delicate. His blue-and-white school uniform puffed out in the wind, and he was carrying a half-zipped schoolbag, clearly in a rush.

Kou Dong never considered himself someone who cared about looks, but at that moment, he really felt this face was his type. It was the kind of face that even the harshest beauty critics couldn’t fault. Surprisingly, he found himself attracted to this youthful, boyish kind of appearance.

Especially because—that face looked kind of familiar.

Was this person a classmate?

Why couldn’t he remember at all?

Before Kou Dong could figure out who the boy was, the youth was already waving at him:

“Come down! What are you still doing up there? The teacher’s looking for you!”

Kou Dong thought: perfect, a ready-made excuse to run!

He quickly said goodbye to the NPC, not bothering with the way the man’s face had suddenly tightened the moment he saw the boy outside. Taking advantage of the NPC being too slow to stop him, Kou Dong yanked the door handle, flung it open, and bolted.

The boy caught him as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs and firmly grabbed his hand.

Then came a reproachful voice, filled with frustration:

“You came on your own? Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?”

Kou Dong found the voice oddly familiar, but he still couldn’t place it.

“Who are you?” he asked.

The boy stopped dead in his tracks. His voice suddenly went tense:

“You don’t know who I am?”

Kou Dong: “…”

Was he supposed to?

His thoughts flashed to the school romance novels he’d read in real life. Could this guy be an important NPC? One of those legendary campus heartthrobs—like an F4 that everyone knew?

He tested the waters:

“Are you the school hunk?”

As soon as he said it, Kou Dong knew he’d messed up.

Because instead of looking flattered, the “school hunk” just got even more tense.

So tense that Kou Dong was actually worried the kid might rupture that beautiful face of his.

What a shame, Kou Dong thought. Such a good-looking face, why ruin it with stress?

Just as he was inwardly sighing, the boy clenched his jaw and squeezed out a tight sentence:

“Wow.”

Then through gritted teeth, he continued:

“You’re really enjoying yourself, huh? You didn’t remember me at all.”

What the hell? Kou Dong thought, shocked. Why did he sound so full of heartbreak?!

Did he unknowingly have some sort of unspeakable past with this NPC?

No—impossible! That couldn’t be!

He, Kou Dong, was not some scumbag!

The boy suddenly called him, dead serious:

“Kou Dong.”

Kou Dong: “Hm”?”

Boy: “You said, once I grew up—you’d call me Daddy.”

Kou Dong: “……???”

Kou Dong was utterly baffled. Dude, are you confused? Why would I call you Daddy just because you grew up?

If anything, you should be calling me Daddy. You’re just a kid!

The boy stared at him, a mix of frustration and… affection.

Then, after a long pause, he raised his hand and gave Kou Dong’s cheek a hard pinch.

 

Kou Dong clutched his face, utterly aggrieved.

What kind of lunatic just pinched someone for no reason?!

They weren’t even that close!

When the boy finally pulled back his fingers, a red mark was left on Kou Dong’s face.

The boy looked at it with satisfaction, hands behind his back as he gazed at Kou Dong.

“Still don’t remember me?”

Kou Dong, still holding his face, finally looked at the boy properly.

From the window earlier, the view wasn’t clear—but now he saw: the boy was slightly taller than him, with long, well-proportioned legs. Even the loose school uniform couldn’t hide his high waistline and athletic figure.

Long legs…

Wait. His kid had long legs too.

But he was only palm-sized. You couldn’t really tell back then—

…Wait.

Speaking of his kid…

Kou Dong suddenly became excited. He opened his inventory and discovered that the little creature that used to be curled up inside was gone—

All that was left was half a broken eggshell, with the words: “Evolved.”

Holy sh—

He looked at the eggshell.

Then looked back at the boy standing in front of him.

And his brain just couldn’t compute.

Holy sh—holy sh—HOLY SH—

His son… had evolved from a pocket-sized version into a full-grown human form!!

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