“Where’s his family? Increasing the dose again requires guardian consent.”
“…His friends…”
“Chi Zhan! Chi Zhan!!” Zhou Yanxing’s voice yanked Chi Zhan’s drifting consciousness back into his body.
Chi Zhan struggled to lift his eyelids. His limbs felt like lead, his mind heavy and clouded, as if he hadn’t slept in three days. He muttered weakly, “Stop yelling… You’re going to blow my eardrums.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Zhou Yanxing frowned. “Did you skip dinner? Is this a low blood sugar crash?”
Cen Chi motioned for Zhou Yanxing to keep quiet and did a quick check, but even he looked puzzled—there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong.
Chi Zhan’s gaze lifted and happened to fall on the clock in the living room.
11:55.
Only five minutes left.
Five minutes… What could he still do?
He forced himself upright, scanning the room. Zhou Yanxing casually picked something up and held it out. “Looking for this?”
Chi Zhan’s heart skipped a beat.
“How did you—”
“How did I know?” Zhou Yanxing cut him off, smirking coldly. “The first time I saw this thing, I knew I hated it. Like we were destined to be enemies.”
He tapped the casing of the device with a knuckle, eyes gleaming.
“Should’ve tossed it ages ago. Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”
Chi Zhan stared at him, hesitant—then realized Zhou Yanxing’s figure… flickered.
Chi Zhan blinked. “…?”
Not just him. The other three in the room—Zhou Yanxing, Cen Chi, Chu Xingxiao—all seemed to shimmer faintly, like faulty projections. Was it an illusion? Or something more?
What… was happening? Was the world really falling apart?
And why was he unaffected?
“Come out,” Zhou Yanxing said suddenly.
The robot vacuum didn’t budge.
His voice dropped, cold and dangerous.
“Come out, or I’ll shred your code to bits. Turn you into a brain-dead scrap heap. Think the central system will keep a defective like you around? You’ll be junked in a blacked-out warehouse and never see daylight again.”
Chi Zhan’s eyes widened in shock.
A red light slowly lit up in the robot’s eyes.
“Cleaning initiated—”
Zhou Yanxing turned to Chi Zhan.
“Ask it whatever you want. You won’t get another chance.”
As he spoke, his body flickered again—this time visibly translucent.
Chi Zhan forgot all about the robot. Urgency sharpened his voice.
“Who are you? How do you know about the system?”
“This is the main system’s update window. I can appear now without it noticing.” Zhou Yanxing paused, then added, “Even if I tell you, you won’t remember in a minute. Still……Might as well say it. XM-G9.”
Chi Zhan stammered, “Wh…what?”
“Knew you wouldn’t remember,” Zhou Yanxing sighed. “Forget it. We’ll talk next time.”
System Alert: “Bug detected. Bug detected. Initiating purge—”
“So noisy,” Zhou Yanxing muttered, tempted to smash the blaring, twitching robot—but he held back.
His eyes shimmered with dark spirals of code as he stared it down. The system’s voice faded. He set the robot down, then leaned in close—close enough to kiss.
“My trial period got cut short thanks to that thing. Can we… renew in the next world?”
Before Chi Zhan could answer, the room lights went out with a sudden bzzt.
Darkness swallowed everything. Even the rain outside fell silent. Disoriented, Chi Zhan stumbled toward the faintest trace of light—only to fall into someone’s arms.
“Don’t be afraid,” Qi Song whispered. “I’ve always been right here.”
Chi Zhan clutched at his sleeve, still reeling.
“What just happened—?”
A soft kiss pressed to his brow.
Chi Zhan’s words stilled on his lips.
“You’ll understand everything,” Chu Xingxiao said gently. “Gege, see you in the next world.”
If someone were standing atop the highest building at that moment, they’d witness a surreal scene: from the horizon inward, every structure, tree, and sign of life blurred, fading into watercolor haze. The erasure spread faster and faster, until the entire world looked like a soaked, bleeding painting.
“Ah Zhan,” Cen Chi’s voice came softly, “come find me. Take back your memories. I’ll be waiting—always.”
Chi Zhan turned toward the sound, reached out—
And grasped nothing.
They were all gone.
Ding-dong—
In the darkness, a faint light flickered to life.
It was Chi Zhan’s NPC panel.
[Notification:]
[This world will shut down in five seconds. Instance update commencing. All NPCs, please prepare to resume your roles in the next world. Memory and identity reset in thirty seconds…]
A progress bar crept forward, one pixel at a time.
No—I don’t want to forget!
Chi Zhan reached instinctively for something, anything. But what memory had he even taken with him? Images burst into his mind uncontrollably, reel after reel of fragmented scenes—
“Secretary Chi, do you have a problem with me?” Zhou Yanxing asked, gesturing at his rumpled tie, a teasing smile on his lips.
“Secretary Chi, are you really thinking of quitting?”
“…No.”
“Good. That’s more like it.”
“I thought we were friends already. Helping you… I wanted to.”
Chi Zhan slowly typed a message: Can you keep being my boyfriend?
“Only if we follow the usual terms.”
Zhou Yanxing had grinned lazily. “Why don’t you pretend to be my fiancé for a while? Move in with me. Sounds fair enough, right?”
“Am I just Secretary Chi’s guilty pleasure?” Across the screen, Qi Song lowered his gaze and asked quietly.
“If it’s Ah Zhan,” Cen Chi had murmured while tipsy, “maybe he could even put up with my picky eating…”
“Too bad I fell for my gege’s boyfriend.”
“I, Zhou Yanxing, when I love someone—I love them for life. Doesn’t matter who they are, or whose boyfriend they were.”
