After Bai Liu finished speaking, he turned away and continued knotting his tie, leaving Mu Sicheng momentarily stunned.
As the two conversed, Mu Ke, lying on the bed, suddenly awoke with a cry, drenched in cold sweat, his limbs convulsing. He sat up, his entire body trembling uncontrollably, instinctively clutching Bai Liu's white shirt to his chest. His eyes were vacant, his breath ragged, and tears continued to fall in bewildered streams, as if he had yet to escape the lingering grip of a nightmare.
Bai Liu called his name softly, "Mu Ke, you're alive. Calm yourself."
Only then did Mu Ke's unfocused gaze slowly regain clarity. He stared blankly at Bai Liu, tears welling in his reddened eyes. The shirt he'd been clutching slipped from his grasp. Sensing Mu Ke's urge to throw himself into his arms, Bai Liu took a slight step back, instead offering a gentle, reassuring pat on Mu Ke's shoulder. "It's over. You've returned to reality."
"Bai Liu, wuu… Bai Liu!" Mu Ke sobbed, his voice hoarse from terror, as if only Bai Liu's presence could anchor him. He clung desperately to the hem of Bai Liu's suit, gazing up at him in utter despair, tears streaming down his face.
His voice was raw from screaming. "I thought I would die in that school! They were going to strangle me!"
Bai Liu lowered his eyes and spoke softly, "But you didn't. You survived, Mu Ke. You did well. It's all behind you now."
Mu Ke wept without pause, his chest heaving with the force of his sobs. In the midst of his crying, he hiccupped, then looked up at Bai Liu with wet lashes, asking in a trembling, cautious whisper, "I cleared the game on my own, just as you said. Does that mean I passed? Will you help me survive in the game, as you promised?"
"I will do my utmost to train you, to help you grow strong enough to stand on your own," Bai Liu replied without hesitation, though his tone soon turned cold and unyielding. "But if you intend only to rely on me, if you become less and less valuable, I assure you, I will abandon my investment in you without a second thought. Do you understand, Mu Ke? I have no patience for fruitless endeavors."
Mu Ke nodded through his tears, choking out his promise, his beautiful eyes brimming with hope and desperation, like a child finally granted approval. "I will! I promise, Bai Liu!"
"I want you to join me in the next game," Bai Liu said, standing and handing Mu Ke a tissue. He glanced at him sidelong. "If you're willing, we'll need to clear fifty dungeons in sixty days. I want to take you into the league, but I need you to grow quickly."
Mu Ke took the tissue, looking up in astonishment.
Bai Liu's gaze was calm and unwavering. "Can you do it? If not, I'll arrange another path for your training. You don't have to follow me."
Before Bai Liu could finish, Mu Ke bit his lip, clutching the tissue tightly, his voice and slender shoulders trembling. "If that's what you need from me, then I can do it."
"Are you certain, Mu Ke?" Bai Liu's tone was even. "When I discuss matters with others, I expect them to look me in the eye. Raise your head."
Slowly, with a visible tremor, Mu Ke lifted his head. Bai Liu saw the expression he'd tried to hide.
The young master, afflicted with heart disease, knelt on the bed, eyes red, fists pressed to his knees, his body shivering uncontrollably. He looked up at Bai Liu with a pitiful, obedient gaze, clearly terrified by the prospect of fifty dungeons in sixty days. Fear overwhelmed him, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to stifle his sobs.
To any ordinary observer, this weeping boy would be heartbreakingly beautiful, impossible not to pity. Yet Bai Liu remained impassive. "You have other options, Mu Ke. There are many players in this game who rely on their looks to earn support from the audience. You could take that path. Following me will be arduous, so consider carefully before you answer."
"Competing in the league with me, or becoming a popular, good-looking player with my help—both paths could keep you alive. Which do you choose?"
Bai Liu lifted his eyes to the stunned Mu Ke. "If you follow me, you'll grow quickly. From the perspective of my needs and your potential, I suggest you try my path first—build your stats with me, and if you can't make it into the league, you'll still be able to help me in other ways. I can always find other players for the league. You're just a backup, to put it plainly."
"So, what is your choice?" Bai Liu extended his hand, waiting quietly for Mu Ke's answer.
Mu Ke knew about the league—he'd seen the fireworks and system notifications when he left the game, but he'd been too frightened to linger. Any newcomer would want to escape as quickly as possible after clearing a game; only someone like Bai Liu would calmly gather information. Mu Ke's nerves were not so steady.
The sense of near-drowning, of having no lifeline, after clearing the game reminded Mu Ke of the suffocating fear in "Siren Town," when Bai Liu had pulled him from the depths. That rescue had left a deep impression—Bai Liu, in Mu Ke's mind, stood above the game itself, able to defy the system and save him, a source of unparalleled security. So, when Mu Ke once again faced death, his shattered spirit instinctively sought the safety of Bai Liu's home.
Mu Ke feared the league, knowing it would be far more perilous than the solo game he'd just survived. For a newcomer like him, it was almost certain death.
He blinked his reddened eyes, lowering his tear-stained lashes, his breath quickening as he looked at Bai Liu's outstretched hand. Mu Ke knew Bai Liu was not a kind man—he would not always save him. The first rescue had been for the value of the mermaid's amulet, which was now gone.
Bai Liu was not a good man, but he was a man of his word.
Mu Ke met Bai Liu's gaze, wary and searching, like a small animal facing a threat. "If I follow you, will you do your best to keep me alive in the game?"
Bai Liu replied with patient gentleness, "I promise."
All of Mu Ke's sense of safety came from this—Bai Liu's promises were never broken, no matter how dire the circumstances.
Bai Liu had promised not to abandon him lightly, to do his utmost to keep him alive, even if the league sounded terrifying.
"Then, I want to compete in the league with you." Mu Ke placed his hand lightly in Bai Liu's, his voice still thick with tears, tinged with grievance and reluctance. "I don't want to play the game alone anymore."
Bai Liu gave his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, signaling their agreement. His tone softened. "Very well. I understand."
But almost immediately, Bai Liu shed his gentle facade, shifting swiftly into businesslike efficiency.
"When will you be ready, Mu Ke? Once we enter, we may not return for a long time." Bai Liu asked, "You look like you need a good rest, and you'll be gone for about two months. You should inform those around you."
"But our time is short." Bai Liu looked at Mu Ke. "I can give you at most one day to prepare. Is that enough?"
Mu Ke's lips trembled. He was unaccustomed to such intensity, but under Bai Liu's calm gaze, he quickly agreed. "…Alright."
"Go home now, Mu Ke." Bai Liu picked up his phone to call his supervisor, glancing at Mu Ke as he spoke. "I'll have my supervisor pick you up. You have my address and number—call me when you're ready tomorrow. You can come directly, or if you need me to fetch you, just say so. Which do you prefer?"
"I—I'll come find you, is that alright?" Mu Ke asked timidly.
"That's fine," Bai Liu replied indifferently.
Bai Liu called his supervisor, who soon arrived. It was his second time picking up the young master from Bai Liu's small apartment. Though the supervisor's expression was odd, he greeted Bai Liu respectfully. But upon entering and seeing Mu Ke, red-eyed and sitting on the bed, his face twisted in shock.
The pitiful young master still bore marks on his wrists and ankles, as if he'd been bound (wounds left by the game).
But what truly stunned the supervisor was the sight of a handsome, exhausted university student sleeping at Bai Liu's desk (Mu Sicheng, who'd dozed off while waiting, still wearing his university-logoed clothes), with Bai Liu's jacket draped over his shoulders. He slept deeply, dark circles under his eyes.
The supervisor stared at Bai Liu—who, though calm, also had faint shadows beneath his eyes—as if to say: Just how many men did you wear out last night?!
Bai Liu met his supervisor's overloaded expression with indifference, leading Mu Ke away as if nothing were amiss.
Mu Ke followed the supervisor out, glancing back at every step, his mind elsewhere. The supervisor, unable to suppress his curiosity, coughed and asked casually, "Mu Ke, that young man in Bai Liu's room—he looked like a college student. What's his relationship with Bai Liu?"
"Oh, him." Mu Ke's feelings were complicated and tinged with jealousy.
He knew Mu Sicheng—ranked fourth on the rookie leaderboard, a star player, clearly stronger and more useful than himself. It was obvious that Mu Sicheng meant something different to Bai Liu; their relationship was closer, as Bai Liu's attitude showed.
When Mu Sicheng fell asleep, Bai Liu had even covered him with a jacket, and spoke more softly to avoid waking him. Bai Liu explained that Mu Sicheng had exhausted himself in the game and needed rest.
…A treatment Mu Ke had never received.
As a young master, Mu Ke was used to special treatment, and he'd sensed Bai Liu's initial indifference, even annoyance. But Bai Liu's attitude toward Mu Sicheng was entirely different, which left Mu Ke feeling a subtle bitterness.
He huffed, a little resentful. "Him? He's just another of Bai Liu's gaming companions, like me. One day, I'll surpass him in Bai Liu's eyes! I'll make Bai Liu prefer playing with me! Starting tomorrow, I'll play games with Bai Liu every day! There's no way he can outdo me!"
The supervisor listened, expressionless, inwardly shocked.
Is competition among you M's always this fierce? Even for "playing games," you have to fight for a spot?
And young master, do you really need to go this far? Can your body handle playing "games" with Bai Liu every day?
"…Take care of yourself, don't overdo it," the supervisor coughed awkwardly, his expression complex. "That kind of thing is bad for your health. Get plenty of rest."
"I can't," Mu Ke replied, dazed. "Bai Liu gave me a task—fifty games in two months, with five people. I might not be able to handle it, and I've never played with others before. Bai Liu only gave me half a day to rest before we start…"
The supervisor was utterly speechless.
Bai Liu's "master" tasks are insane! Fifty "games" in two months, and with multiple people, no less!
Even office workers get holidays, but Bai Liu won't even give Mu Ke a break—he has to work overtime to "play multiplayer games." What a world-class scoundrel!
The supervisor thought bitterly—Bai Liu is running a 996 schedule.
Author's note:
In his supervisor's eyes, 6 is gradually becoming a sadistic demon king.
I swear I won't spoil anything, lest it ruin your reading experience. In short, it's a five-person team—besides 6's "son" (crossed out) teammate Ke and the monkey Xiao 4, there are three more yet to appear. There are core teammates and backups; 6 always prepares multiple options. He treats his teammates well, since they risk their lives for his points—but they're just teammates! When 6 lures people in, he'll say anything! He's only after their money! (Why does this sound more and more like a pyramid scheme?)