These three guys had two yellow dye jobs and one green, all sporting the same bowl-cut hairstyle. They wore ear studs, had cigarettes tucked behind their ears, and seemed to be chewing something constantly. With crooked mouths and slanted eyes, their gazes were incredibly arrogant. Tight short-sleeved shirts on top, equally tight skinny jeans below that rode up at least ten centimeters above their ankles, and black tiger-head cloth shoes on their feet.
One look at these three and you could tell they’d just come from pulling an all-nighter at an internet cafe. They reeked of smoke and alcohol, and the thing they were chewing wasn’t gum—it was betel nut.
The moment these three boarded the bus, Zhao Mingyue caught that awful stench, a mix of every foul odor imaginable clinging to them.
The smell of an internet cafe is unpleasant enough. After stewing in it all night, on top of their own smoking, drinking, and betel nut chewing, mixed with the scent of unwashed hair… you could just imagine the result.
Truth be told, Zhao Mingyue was terrified of running into people like this.
She’d been harassed by their type more than once or twice; the number of times she’d called the police because of them was in the double digits.
Nothing good ever came from crossing paths with them. The moment they spotted her, they’d stick to her like a stubborn dog-skin plaster, impossible to shoo away. What was worse, when these types showed their faces, it was never just one—they always came in a group, sometimes a whole pack.
Once they locked onto you, they’d surround you and demand your contact info.
If you gave it to them, they’d think it was too easy and get bolder. They’d drag you straight off to a dance hall or a bar—if not that, then a barbecue joint at best—insisting you grab a drink with them, no big deal.
But if you refused, they’d just keep pestering you endlessly, and they had zero patience. If you hesitated even a little before giving in, they’d think you were disrespecting them and get angry.
Zhao Mingyue simply couldn’t fathom how these types seemed to be mass-produced from the same mold across the entire country, especially their personalities, as if each and every one was stamped out of the exact same template.
When they threatened you, their words were as vicious as they came, practically blowing smoke about being the underground emperor. Yet the moment they saw you calling the police, the instant the call connected, they didn’t even dare to snatch your phone. They’d just turn tail and bolt, tossing out a couple of tough-guy parting curses.
She’d tried many tactics. The most effective was yelling for help from people nearby to scare them off. But if there weren’t many people around, then you were truly out of options and just had to call the police as fast as possible.
Usually, she’d avoid these types from as far away as she could. She reasoned if she couldn’t afford to provoke them, she could at least afford to hide. Keeping a low profile was always the right call.
Getting tangled up with them was a guarantee of wasted time and a whole day of disgust. It wasn’t her being snobbish. It was the fact that these guys, a small group of them, would surround a young girl and actually try to get handsy. She honestly couldn’t begin to guess how their brains worked, as if they’d never been taught the word “respect” since birth.
But the thing was, today was different!
If she were by herself, she’d absolutely lie low, keeping her head down to avoid their stares and getting off the bus at the earliest stop.
However, the person next to her clearly wouldn’t handle it that way.
Before any conflict had even started, Zhao Mingyue already felt the urge to bury her face in her hands. She could vividly picture the scene about to unfold.
“Mingyue, have you looked into the Store Manager’s background at all?” Bai Yu, still oblivious to Zhao Mingyue’s strange behavior, asked with a tilt of her head.
“You mean the Store Manager? Nuh-uh. I just know he’s a good guy. Mm… at least he has a good personality. Most people wouldn’t agree to hire me.” Zhao Mingyue used the carnation to shield her face, turning slightly to the side and lowering her voice.
“Feeling sick?” Bai Yu was puzzled by Zhao Mingyue’s behavior.
“No, it’s just… I feel like it’s better to talk like this.” With an awkward little smile, Zhao Mingyue really didn’t know how to explain. She couldn’t exactly say, “I’m on guard against those delinquents causing trouble and then getting themselves killed by you,” could she?
She knew full well just how ruthless and decisive Bai Yu had been when she killed Chen Yun two nights ago. Not a single blink. Clean, efficient, stabbing straight for every vital spot.
Besides, could you really expect a ghost to care much about the law?
If a conflict truly erupted, wouldn’t Bai Yu rip the heads right off those three punks? Bai Yu’s unusual manner had caught her attention. She glanced at Zhao Mingyue, then looked over at the two punks in the back row loudly chatting, one playing videos on his phone with the sound on full blast—though his attention wasn’t on the screen, he was butting into the others’ conversation instead.
Bai Yu’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she gave a thoughtful nod.
She understood now. It must be that Zhao Mingyue has a grudge against these three.
“Enemies, am I right?”
Just then, the three delinquents were in the middle of their chat. One casually spat his chewed-up betel nut onto the floor, followed by a gob of phlegm, then ripped open a fresh packet. He tossed the wrapper aside, popped a new nut in his mouth, and lit a cigarette, chewing all the while.
He’d barely taken his first drag when he noticed Bai Yu staring straight at him.
His eyes darted back over to her. Their gazes met, but he found the girl wasn’t remotely afraid of him. She just kept on staring.
He took a deep drag from his cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs for a beat, then slowly exhaled it.
Always brimming with confidence about his looks and his flashy style, a thought naturally popped into his head at that moment.
She’s been eyeing me this long. She’s definitely got the hots for me.
The green-haired punk’s locked stare at Bai Yu naturally drew the attention of the other two yellow-haired ones as well.
They followed his line of sight. And just at that perfect moment, Zhao Mingyue, noticing Bai Yu’s odd stillness, lowered the flower from her face and glanced back in that direction too.
The second their eyes landed on Zhao Mingyue, the two guys felt as if they’d been shot right through the heart.
Once Zhao Mingyue deliberately averted her gaze, the two regained their senses and exchanged a look with the green-haired kid. A silent message passed between the three in a flicker of glances. Simultaneously, they rose and swaggered toward Bai Yu and Zhao Mingyue’s spot.
Since Zhao Mingyue was sitting near the rear door in one of the back-row seats, the three of them headed straight over. Two plopped down in the seats behind, and one took the seat to her left.
As the three closed in, that utterly stomach-churning odor drifted over just as expected. Zhao Mingyue let out a deep, helpless sigh in her heart.
Sure enough, no way to avoid it! But at this point, she had zero concern left for whatever those three were scheming. Her eyes shot immediately to Bai Yu.
As expected, Bai Yu’s expression was completely blank. And in the palm of her hand, the Blood Thread Short Blade had already materialized.
“Kill them all?”
Bai Yu’s voice echoed directly inside Zhao Mingyue’s mind.
Zhao Mingyue was at her wit’s end. God, she absolutely detested this crowd of thugs.
“No, no, no! If you kill them, we can forget about going anywhere or doing any shopping today.”
“Like that… I understand!”
Before the three wannabe thugs could even open their mouths, still mentally ogling what they thought were total knockouts, the girl in the blue-and-white maid skirt seated by the window stood up.
Right at that instant, the bus gave a sudden hard brake. The skirt of Bai Yu’s dress barely swayed, and yet her body, without holding onto anything, remained perfectly motionless.
Her fists were already clenched, forming the Tiger Claw stance.
Not killing anyone was acceptable. Rendering the opponent completely unable to fight… now that was doable.
The Three-Punch Method. One punch to the Adam’s apple. One punch to the philtrum. One punch to the center of the forehead. Three solid punches and the opponent would absolutely lose all combat capability. It was at that very moment that the bus doors suddenly swung open, and a young man and woman bustled aboard hurriedly.
“Lu Liangting!?”
At the sight of these two new arrivals, Zhao Mingyue casually swept her gaze over them—and was stunned to see it was none other than Lu Liangting and Shen Shuyun. She had to admit, in that instant of seeing them, she felt like she was laying eyes on her saviors.
Their timing couldn’t have been more perfect. A moment later, and who knew what Bai Yu might have done.
Because she was starting to feel like she and Bai Yu simply weren’t on the same wavelength when they talked.
She herself knew this type of person was all lecherous thoughts and zero guts to follow through. But Bai Yu was different. She probably had absolutely zero understanding of these people’s usual way of doing things and just thought a group was aggressively coming over to cause trouble.
And in her world, the logic probably ran like this:
You’re coming to cause me trouble, you want to kill me. So before you manage to kill me, I’ll butcher you first.
As for the reasons why, or why the other party was looking for trouble, or what consequences there might be after she killed them—she probably wouldn’t even consider any of that.
Enemies have come right to her doorstep, and she’s still supposed to not make a move? Deal with the aftermath later? Sure, later.
“Mingyue?” Following the sound of that voice, Lu Liangting’s eyes now found Zhao Mingyue, who had stood up from her seat in the back row.
Lu Liangting strode over. He looked at Zhao Mingyue first, but then his focus settled on Bai Yu.
Whether it was just his imagination or not, he had this nagging feeling he’d seen this girl somewhere before. Too bad she was wearing sunglasses; otherwise, he felt he might’ve remembered. But then again, the girl was undeniably cute. Probably just one of Zhao Mingyue’s younger sisters.
He was trailing off in his thoughts when he noticed the slightly nervous expression on Zhao Mingyue’s face. It was only then he registered the three punks—parked in the seats behind and to the left of Zhao Mingyue and Bai Yu—and it all clicked mentally.
He really despised these types too. Able-bodied and perfectly sound of mind, in the prime of their youth, yet they’d dropped out of school early. Dropping out was one thing—everyone makes their own choices—but afterward, they’d just stay home and leech off their parents. They did nothing productive, stirred up trouble at every turn, and their parents were stuck cleaning up their messes.
It never once crossed their minds they should be out earning a bit of their own money. A phone call home meant just one thing: demanding cash.
It was all so pathetic. Their parents were often clueless about education, fixated solely on making money. And if they didn’t make money, they’d start fretting about putting food on the table and paying the bills. Then they’d grow old, look back, and see their kid had turned into this.
He’d been running to the police station over all sorts of matters lately and had seen this type more than a few times.
Lu Liangting let out countless sighs within a matter of seconds. But sighs aside, when faced with these three punks, he didn’t hesitate in the slightest. He walked straight over.
How these three acted, he couldn’t care less. But that they were harassing his friend? That he absolutely could not tolerate!
At the very moment Lu Liangting was stepping up to play the “knight in shining armor,” Shen Shuyun, standing off to the side, was utterly dumbstruck.
Seriously dumbstruck. Her brain had practically short-circuited. And it wasn’t because of Lu Liangting’s actions, nor because of Zhao Mingyue or the three punks. It was because of Bai Yu!
Yes, Bai Yu.
She hadn’t recognized her before, just thought it was some relative of Zhao Mingyue’s. She’d been thinking about how to help Zhao Mingyue out of the situation—after all, helping Zhao Mingyue was essentially the same as earning points with the Doctor.
But then, earlier, she’d casually sized up this girl in the blue-and-white dress—from her build to her facial structure, and that aura, tightly coiled, a predatory attack ready to explode at any second—and she’d suddenly realized exactly who this was.
Honestly, deep down, when the realization first hit her, she hadn’t quite believed it. She’d wondered for a moment if her eyes were playing tricks on her. She told herself because she’d switched identities, it wasn’t her old body anymore, so her judgment couldn’t be that accurate.
But… the more she looked, the more certain she became.
There was no need to even talk about build or facial structure. That sheer presence, that aura… it was one hundred percent the Doctor!
There was no way she could lie to herself.
After all, they had just met the night before last. Her memory wasn’t that bad.
But the problem was, could the person across from her, if she really was the Doctor, possibly be wearing these clothes?
A blue-and-white maid outfit. A four-leaf clover hair clip. Delicate makeup. Designer sunglasses. White stockings and those little leather shoes. Even her hair was done up in twin-tails. She looked more girlish than any girl. It was so wildly, radically different from the ‘Doctor’ locked in her memory.
In her mind’s eye, the Doctor was a monster in a black leather jacket drenched in blood aura. So much as glance at her wrong, and she might just hack your head clean off.
At any rate, draping the Doctor in human skin, or human heads—any kind of bizarre trophy would have seemed perfectly normal. Even having no trophies at all would’ve been fine—that dense bloody aura was all the representation she needed. In short, whatever she wore, it absolutely shouldn’t be white lace trim!
Lace simply did not match the Doctor’s aesthetic!
Just try to imagine it: the Doctor, decked out in this little dress, wielding her blade as she steps before you. Maybe she barely reaches your chest. She’s looking up at you with her head tilted, an utterly moe expression, about to drop one of her classic lines.
No wait, she doesn’t have any classic lines. She usually just gets straight to the knifework. At most, a curt “Move.” left in her wake.
Just picturing that scene felt so absurd it looped right around to being hilarious.
So Shen Shuyun was at a complete loss as to what expression she should even arrange on her face right now. Should she just walk right up and say hello? Or pretend she hadn’t seen a thing?
The Doctor herself surely didn’t like this outfit. Her whole reason for dressing up like this must be to pass as a living human and fool other Game Participants, right? Surely Zhao Mingyue couldn’t have forced her into it. How many guts would Zhao Mingyue need to have to dress up the Doctor like this?
But honestly, you had to hand it to her. The Doctor’s disguise was a resounding success.
True, she was a ghost. But her identity was a special case—she had the means to pass as a living person. And then, dolled up like this? Anyone who hadn’t interacted with her before would never, ever figure out her real identity.
Hell, forget never interacting. Interacting before wouldn’t even help you recognize her. Hadn’t she noticed that fool Lu Liangting was still completely clueless?
Bai Yu said nothing, merely sitting back down again. She would watch how things unfolded. No rush to act for now. Besides, Number 652 had arrived. She could let her take action instead.
Lu Liangting remained ignorant of whatever was going through the minds of Bai Yu and Shen Shuyun. At this moment, he just stood not far from Zhao Mingyue, one hand gripping a pole near the bus’s rear door, silent, waiting for the three wannabe punks to make the first move. He didn’t go looking for trouble, but he sure wasn’t afraid of it either.
“Tch.” One of the yellow-haired punks glanced sidelong at Lu Liangting and let out a soft, dismissive scoff, utterly unconcerned.
Since the seats to the left and right were close together, the yellow-haired kid sitting to the left just casually draped his arm over the back of Zhao Mingyue’s seat, the half-smoked cigarette still pinched between his fingers. “Hey there, pretty lady, where ya headed for fun? Want a few big brothers like us to tag along? Great way to enjoy a weekend, right? So, uh, how ‘bout swapping contact info first, yeah?”
The words had barely left his mouth when Lu Liangting’s hand shot out, clamping in a vise-grip around the wrist of the offending hand.
The yellow-haired punk’s heart lurched in alarm. He tried to yank his hand free, but found Lu Liangting’s grip far stronger than his own—immovable as an iron clamp no matter how he struggled.
“You motherf— You’re asking for it!”
There was zero chance he could lose face in front of the girls. The yellow-haired punk shot to his feet. But the moment he stood, Lu Liangting’s fist was already on its way.
