In the manual issued upon NPC deployment, titled “Essential Story Elements Every NPC Should Know”, it states that in a classic domineering-CEO romance, the CEO’s assistant and his doctor friend are the two most frequently recurring characters.
The assistant juggles the CEO’s workload and handles both his professional and personal life, while the doctor is often summoned in the dead of night to tend to the CEO’s little lover’s injuries. It’s hard to say who has the rougher job.
Chi Zhan never expected this scenario to actually play out in real life.
He felt oddly comforted.
So this world really is a textbook CEO universe—then why is Zhou Yanxing the only one who insists on being a maverick?
***
“Hello, do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked.
“I’m here at Zhou Yanxing’s request,” the man replied. His voice was gentle and pleasant, the kind that made the receptionist instinctively look up for a better look.
The man had a tall nose and thin lips, a pair of gold-rimmed glasses perched on his face with a fine chain hanging from them, highlighting his fair complexion. He looked refined and scholarly. Dressed in a tailored trench coat over a black turtleneck, his outfit was simple yet striking. The only unusual thing was the medical kit he carried in hand.
“My name is Cen Chi. Should I call him?” the man asked again, patiently, when she didn’t respond.
“Oh—oh! We’ve got your information here,” she stammered, quickly regaining her composure. “Here’s a temporary elevator access card. Take the second elevator on the left—you can swipe directly in.”
“Thank you.” Cen Chi offered her a slight smile—just a faint curl of his lips, but it was enough to make hearts flutter.
Inside the room, the lighting was dim.
Chi Zhan was lying on his stomach, nearly dozing off when the knock came—three evenly spaced knocks, not too soft, not too loud.
“Come in.”
Chi Zhan instantly woke up, a bit on edge.
The door lock turned.
Before the sound of footsteps reached his ears, he caught the faint jingle of a chain. Chi Zhan frowned in confusion, but when the man entered, his eyes widened.
Light from the hallway framed the man’s silhouette, illuminating his features. Chi Zhan saw everything clearly at a glance.
Dr. Cen was his type.
Elegant. Gentle. Meticulous.
He gave off the kind of first impression that made people feel like they were basking in spring sunshine—gentle, approachable, easy to trust. The kind of man who could effortlessly disarm others’ defenses.
But right now, something felt… off.
Why did this whole situation feel so bizarre?
Wearing Zhou Yanxing’s clothes (not on purpose), sleeping in Zhou Yanxing’s bed (also not on purpose), and now being examined by the personal doctor Zhou had summoned from god knows where…
Secretary Chi, lying quietly, fell into deep contemplation.
***
Third-floor conference room.
Everyone present had already heard about what happened in the CEO’s office earlier. No one dared speak. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, and everyone kept darting glances at each other.
Zhou Yanxing swept his gaze across the room and said coldly, “What, all mute now? Who submitted that recruitment request? Still haven’t found out?”
A manager stepped forward hesitantly.
“We’re still investigating. That email came through the internal system and was sent under your name. At the time, no one thought to question it. But now it’s already auto-deleted, and we can’t trace the source. But we do have some theories…”
“You have three days to find the person responsible.”
The manager immediately promised to look into it. Everyone else sat like they were on pins and needles. Zhou Yanxing continued, “Whoever was in charge of recruitment this time—dock one month’s performance bonus. Dismissed.”
Jiang Yi had been idly scrolling through food delivery apps while slouched in his chair. He wasn’t really paying attention, but when he vaguely heard terms like “Secretary Chi” and “fight,” he jolted upright. “Wait—what happened to Secretary Chi?”
Upon hearing that Chi Zhan had gotten injured, Jiang Yi rushed to the secretarial office. No one was there. He ran around in a panic until he spotted Zhou Yanxing and, losing his head entirely, dashed over.
“Chi-ge! What happened to him? Is he okay?”
Zhou Yanxing glanced at him.
“You’ve finished all your work? You seem pretty free.”
Jiang Yi was instantly at a loss for words.
Naturally, the game wouldn’t give players that much actual work. He usually just did the bare minimum to look busy—but of course, he couldn’t admit that.
If he said it out loud, Demon King Zhou would probably blow his top and kick him out of the company altogether.
This guy was so intense, even players were afraid of him.
“And keep your thoughts to yourself,” Zhou Yanxing said with a stony expression. “Office romances are banned here. Don’t drag others down with you. If I catch you—”
His tone dropped several degrees, cold and sharp, leaving no room for doubt.
“Pack your things and leave.”
“……”
Why the hell can’t we report this guy to the devs?! What kind of romance target is this—he’s terrifying!
Seething with righteous indignation, Jiang Yi opened the player forum—only to see a new trending post.
[Title: Help! I drew the CEO’s secretary in the gacha, and the moment I showed up, the CEO called security on me!]
The situation felt oddly familiar, so Jiang Yi kept reading.
Apparently, the original poster and his buddies had joined the game hoping to build their careers and chose the strongest company in the industry—Zhou Rui Group. They were told there were no current openings.
One of the guys, unwilling to give up, used some black-hat tech to sneak into the system, and during the process, drew a rare identity—he got auto-assigned a position as an internal hire.
Then his friends caught him, beat the crap out of him, and he was accidentally knocked into a ridiculously good-looking NPC.
The CEO immediately lost it, and now he was interrogating them to find out how they’d pulled it off.
Of course, they couldn’t explain. Even if they tried, no one would understand. And now they were about to be hauled off to the cops for “picking a fight and causing a disturbance.”
Jiang Yi nearly spat out his drink.
This game had advertised itself as ultra-realistic from the start, with an 80% similarity to the real world. To maintain immersion and balance, if a player committed a crime and got arrested, they’d be forcibly logged out and couldn’t re-enter until they’d “served their sentence.”
But who would’ve thought they’d end up jailed over something this ridiculous?
In the comments, a wave of complaints followed.
[Are you talking about Zhou Yanxing? That guy’s heartless! I even faked a fall in front of him and he stepped over me like I was invisible!]
[I swear the devs created him just to crush our souls with reality. But goddamn, he’s so hot. Ugh! Who the hell can successfully romance this guy?!]
