That was what she’d told the corpse when they buried him.
And yet the “new” Cheng En had remembered it.
“Maybe,” Fu Changxun murmured, eyes following Cheng En’s fading figure. “The game’s reset and cleanup isn’t complete. His data might still be there, lingering.”
Xu Zhengyi didn’t fully understand—but he knew some things didn’t need to be spelled out.
Like the black cat from the newbie instance. Why was it still showing up here?
He didn’t need to know.
“Back to the instance,” Fu Changxun said, pushing down his curiosity about the game’s mechanics. “Since we already got intel about the previous General, we shouldn’t waste the lead. Xu-ge, you and Xiao Xiao gather more info. Ah Zi and I will check out the General’s Platform.”
Xu Zhengyi nodded and scooped Xiao Xiao into his arms, moving off to cover for them.
Dong Zi set off with Fu Changxun toward the General’s Platform.
Elsewhere, in places they couldn’t see, the livestream chat exploded in a frenzy. The number of viewers had surged into the tens of thousands.
[They found the bug! Where’s the game’s architect? Get out here and explain!]
[The dev team’s gonna be working overtime. Brutal. This player’s sharp as hell.]
[Hahaha, things are getting good now…]
[You up there—been reading too much human fiction, haven’t you?]
[No. I simply don’t condone the crude actions of these low-dimensional creatures. They’ll never clear the game.]
[Oh really? Well, I don’t condone you. Or do you want to become my next puppet?]
[Fight! Fight! Let’s get the drama going! HAHAHA!]
[…]
Human viewers were equally divided in heated debate. The pessimists believed that since someone had already died, more deaths were inevitable—one by one, the rest would fall too.
The optimists, on the other hand, thought that now that they’d uncovered clues about the previous General, things should progress smoothly from here.
Outside a residential building, Qiu Yi and his team lounged on the stone stools typically used by elderly men playing chess, watching the livestream unfold across the floating screen.
Watching this part, he turned to the others and said, “I still think they should be recruited into the Special Affairs Office. Look—did you see how quick he was to protect the little girl? That kind of sharpness? And casually catching a bug just by grabbing an NPC? That’s not just luck, it’s talent.”
The woman sitting across from him nodded calmly. “I agree. You’ve got my vote.”
“Same here. We still need someone good at acting—and someone who can fight.”
“Damn, if you put it like that, we’re basically short on everything…”
They chuckled through the stress.
Qiu Yi added, “And that guy named Zhengyi—let’s try to recruit him too. His ability might not be all that powerful, but he’s decent. More importantly, he has a daughter.”
Someone with a child had ties—things to protect. That kind of person wouldn’t break easily. They could hold on.
Just as he was saying this, Fu Changxun and Dong Zi arrived at the General’s Platform, following the route precisely.
The General’s Platform was massive, grand, almost comparable to the royal altars used for imperial ceremonies—except those were reserved solely for the royal family, while this platform was open to all. Even beggars and commoners could walk up freely.
Fu Changxun climbed a few steps, then instinctively ran his fingers along the railings on either side.
As if attuned to his every move, Dong Zi asked without even looking, “Find something?”
Fu Changxun pointed to the steps and railings. “Look. The entire floor is solid marble—insanely expensive. But the railings are cheap. Not just plain, but shoddy. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”
He turned around, and Dong Zi immediately caught on. “The General’s Platform was built under imperial supervision. In ancient times, stonemasons wouldn’t dare cut corners with the emperor.”
“Exactly. Which means—there was something off in the emperor’s heart. Either he really hated this former general, or he had misgivings. But for the sake of appearances, he had to build the platform with marble. So he secretly used substandard railings to express his displeasure.”
Fu Changxun crouched down and ran his hand along the stone. “He couldn’t be open about it—so he made it just convincing enough, but not sincere.”
What kind of man had this former General been, to earn both fear and resentment from the emperor?
Dong Zi crouched beside him—and even in that position, he almost completely dwarfed Fu Changxun.
Dong Zi crouching didn’t look helpless or pitiful—just large. Ridiculously large.
Fu Changxun’s hands were dusted with powder from the weathered marble. He didn’t mind, but Dong Zi immediately leaned over and started wiping his hands clean with a corner of his sleeve.
“So, should we go question the emperor next?”
“I mean, I’d love to. But how are we supposed to get an audience with the emperor inside the palace?”
Fu Changxun sighed and clapped his hands clean. “Let’s keep searching for more clues here. Worst case—we just hire some assassins and kidnap the emperor.”
He grinned mischievously. “Assassins are NPCs. If one NPC kills another, that’s not on us.”
Dong Zi, towering and serious, considered this. “Hm. Makes sense.”
Fu Changxun had been crouching a while. When he stood suddenly, the blood drained from his head and his vision dimmed. Dong Zi quickly caught him before he could stumble.
Just as he was regaining his balance, he looked up—and locked eyes with Zhao-jie, who was watching them with a complicated expression.
Fu Changxun: “…”
Dong Zi: “…”
Zhao-jie: “…Did you two just find a clue or something?”
“Uh—kinda,” Fu Changxun said, slipping the cat back into his sleeve with an awkward smile.
He reflexively tried to hide behind Dong Zi again, but Zhao-jie gave him a sharp look, prompting him to step back out with visible embarrassment. “Zhao-jie, you ended up here too?”
“Yeah. The General’s name is easy to dig up. But you two are seriously suspicious,” she said, eyeing them.
“Yesterday, you followed that cat and found an NPC corpse. What happened after that? Are you seriously telling me you didn’t run into anything else?”
Fu Changxun deflected smoothly. “Why don’t you tell us first—when exactly did you arrive?”
Zhao-jie thought for a moment. “Right around when you said, ‘How would we possibly meet the emperor in the palace?’ Honestly, I’m starting to doubt you’re a newbie at all.”
Fu Changxun gave her a sheepish grin. “Let’s not go there. We found out a few things about the General. Did you hear? The quest doesn’t point to the current one—it’s about the previous General, the one who helped the emperor conquer the kingdom.”
That got Zhao-jie’s full attention. She momentarily forgot her suspicions. “Is that true?”
Now that they’d uncovered the clue and shared it among teammates, there was no harm in passing it on to the rest.
Fu Changxun nudged Dong Zi to fill her in on everything they’d discovered.
They left out the details about the Lifetime-Bound Flyer, but proposed a theory—it might’ve been a crime of passion.
As expected, Zhao-jie was so caught up in the new lead that she didn’t press them any further.
Score. Successfully bluffed their way through.
“So we really might have to do what you said—drag the emperor out for questioning?”
She brainstormed several alternate plans, only to shoot them all down one by one, eventually realizing Fu Changxun’s absurd suggestion… was actually the most viable.
Was it dumb luck, or hidden genius?
Whatever the case, Zhao-jie was no longer underestimating this duo. Even Xu Zhengyi, who had seemed like a blunt brute, couldn’t be judged by surface impressions.
“Shhh.”
Suddenly, Fu Changxun raised a finger to his lips, gesturing for them to look left.
