Kazuko lowered her head. “The punishment for failure is your body being torn apart bit by bit until your entire body turns into fragments.”
“Then what happens if I fail?” Liang Sheng’s teeth began to chatter.
“Do you know… what Lingchi is?”
What came back was a long stretch of silence.
The restaurant around them buzzed with noise. The air conditioning hummed softly, filling the space with a warm, cozy temperature and atmosphere. But Liang Sheng felt as if she’d plunged into an ice cellar. Kazuko’s words landed on her like a barrage of ice blocks.
“I’m not doing it.” Liang Sheng shot to her feet, drawing curious glances from some of the nearby diners.
Kazuko, worried that Liang Sheng would feel embarrassed about it later, hurriedly raised her index finger in a “shh, shh” gesture, urging her not to make a scene.
Liang Sheng noticed everyone staring at her with strange looks and sheepishly sat back down. Even so, her gaze remained locked firmly on her own Favorability System.
“Ahem.” Kazuko cleared her throat. “Since you’ve already boarded the pirate ship, there’s no getting off now. From the moment you bound yourself to me, we’re grasshoppers on the same string—tied together for better or worse.”
“You!” Liang Sheng fumed. “Don’t drag me into this! I might not be afraid of dying, but I have zero interest in experiencing a death that painful!”
“There’s no turning back for you now.” Kazuko shook her head helplessly. “You need to understand—my life is in your hands too. If you fail, I’ll be suffering right alongside you.”
Liang Sheng detected a whiff of moral blackmail in Kazuko’s words, inside and out. It infuriated her. The more she dwelled on it, the angrier she got.
“You little…” It was the calm before the storm.
Kazuko sensed something was off and swallowed hard.
Liang Sheng sucked in a deep breath. Then her mouth unleashed a torrent of words like a machine gun. “Are you talking about me? Do you think I wanted to be stuck bound to you? I finally worked up the nerve to kill myself, and you transmigrated me into this novel’s world! What the hell were you really thinking?”
Kazuko froze.
A long moment passed.
“Liang Sheng… what are you talking about?” Kazuko’s eyes brimmed with genuine bewilderment—no trace of pretense. “Transmigration? Suicide? What… what on earth do you mean?”
“Not you…?!” Liang Sheng’s eyes flew wide open. In that instant, all the suspicious inconsistencies from her months of interactions with Kazuko came rushing back to her. A chill raced down her spine.
Of course! Back when she’d been lost at sea, reliving her memories, it had been Kazuko guiding her through them. Yet every time Liang Sheng brought it up afterward, Kazuko had always stared back with that same lost, puzzled expression.
Goosebumps erupted across Liang Sheng’s arms. Which Kazuko was the real one? Had those memories even been hers? Everything plunged back into a fog of uncertainty. The clues and progress she’d painstakingly gathered over these past months now felt utterly hollow.
Liang Sheng suddenly felt exhausted. Living was so damn tiring, no matter which world she was in.
“Liang Sheng? Liang Sheng?” Akino Kazuko nudged Liang Sheng’s arm, peering at her with anxiety. She had no idea what was going through her mind, but the dazed, bewildered look on Liang Sheng’s face told her something bad had happened.
Liang Sheng tilted her head in a daze and looked at this Favorability System of indeterminate authenticity. “Are you really the Favorability System? Are you Akino Kazuko right now? No—better question: Are you the real Akino Kazuko?”
Kazuko shivered. “What the heck, L-Liang Sheng? Don’t scare me like that. Aren’t you just Liang Sheng? What’s this about transmigration? Or this being a novel?”
Liang Sheng’s mind turned to mush. Then, a spark of inspiration hit—a bold new theory.
“Kazuko, do you know how you came to be created?”
Kazuko nodded, paused to think, then shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure, but it seems like that’s how it was. Though… I can’t tell you.”
Liang Sheng waved it off nonchalantly. “Figured you couldn’t. But have you ever considered there might be a higher-level system out there? One that knows things even you don’t—and maybe even created you?”
“Uh…” Akino Kazuko scratched at her neck. “Probably not, right? That guess of yours feels pretty far-fetched.”
“Then why did you show up? Why do you have to defeat the Heartthrob Value System no matter what? And how could you end up getting decomposed?” Liang Sheng’s questions fired out like bullets from a machine gun, catching Kazuko completely off guard.
“Er, uh…”
Suddenly, the still objects in Kazuko’s field of vision warped and twisted. A vicious pain exploded in her head. She clutched her skull and collapsed to the floor.
At first, Liang Sheng didn’t think much of it. But then her Favorability System’s body began trembling uncontrollably. Panic gripped her.
“Kazuko!?” Forgetting where she was, Liang Sheng jumped up and rushed over to support her.
A few of the girls eating nearby clutched their purses in fright, convinced they were dealing with a lunatic. They slipped quietly over to the counter and settled their bills.
“What’s wrong with you?” Liang Sheng stared at Kazuko, tense with worry.
Kazuko was in agony, but she forced a grin. “What’s this? My little tigress suddenly going all gentle on me? Don’t tell me it’s a weasel paying respects to the hen—no good intentions there.”
“Hey! You still have the mood to joke around?” Liang Sheng snapped in exasperation. “Shut up already—what’s going on?”
Kazuko teased back. “Guess these days with you have just worn me down.”
Liang Sheng was seriously freaking out now. “You…!”
Kazuko cut her off in a hurry. “I’m fine now. Really—it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
“Really?” Liang Sheng eyed her suspiciously. That quick?
“Really.” Kazuko nodded vigorously, her expression earnest.
“You’re not lying to me?” Liang Sheng double-checked.
“Mommy dearest, you’re such a nag! I’m not lying—I’m totally fine!” Spending so much time with Liang Sheng had started rubbing off on Kazuko’s speech patterns.
Seeing how lively she was acting, Liang Sheng finally believed her. She let out a breath and slumped back into her chair.
Only then, relaxing, did she notice a prickling, burning sensation crawling over her skin. Tracing the source, she glanced around. Most of the people nearby were gawking at her like she was a monkey in a zoo—free admission.
Damn, another social suicide on-site. But Liang Sheng had grown numb to it by now. Whatever—she’d be the monkey, not the human. Jojo!
“So what exactly happened?” Ignoring the stares, Liang Sheng pressed Kazuko.
Kazuko hesitated for a moment before speaking slowly. “I think… I’ve forgotten some things.”
“Hm?” Liang Sheng’s attention snapped to full focus, terrified of missing a single crucial detail.
“Ahem.” Meeting those expectant eyes, Kazuko suddenly looked sheepish. She scratched her head. “Um… I didn’t actually remember anything.”
In an instant, Liang Sheng deflated like a punctured balloon. She hung her head.
But she didn’t see it—didn’t notice how, the moment she looked down, Kazuko stared at her intently. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.
What she said was:
