Chapter Twenty-Five

“Mengchao, what should our class do for the school festival?”
On the rooftop at noon, Kotonoha Katsura looked at Liu Mengchao with curiosity.

“What should we do? Do you have any ideas?” Liu Mengchao took a bite of his lunch and spoke slowly.

Kotonoha didn’t answer; she shook her head and gazed at Liu Mengchao with anticipation, as if the man before her possessed some mysterious power.

“Well, let me think.”
As he spoke, Liu Mengchao stood up and gazed down from the rooftop, overlooking the entire Sakaki Academy. Countless students, like ants, swarmed below him.

“School festivals in past years always had maid cafés,” he said, stepping to the edge of the rooftop, feeling the wind brush past him.

“But now that I’m here, everything should be different.” Liu Mengchao squinted slightly, as though the four reincarnators stood before him. “You’ll find things far beyond your imagination.”

Yes, beyond the reincarnators’ imagination, because the Lord God was always by their side, coldly observing them, provoking their nerves with every casual word and movement.

“The school festival starts in a week, doesn’t it?”

“Yes!”

Liu Mengchao didn’t turn around, but seeing Kotonoha smiling and nodding, he smiled as well.

The reincarnators’ moods were like kindling about to ignite. All that was missing was a spark—once casually tossed, it would burst into fierce flame.

It was time to throw down the first spark.

“Baiya!”
Liu Mengchao called out in his mind to the Lord God’s secretary, whom he hadn’t contacted in some time.

“Executor?”

Liu Mengchao nodded imperceptibly, sat at the edge of the rooftop, smiled faintly, closed his eyes, and tossed aside the disposable chopsticks in his hand.

“Announce a mission prompt.”

“1. Time until the Lord God’s space mission: Before the school festival, cause Makoto Itou to despair. One week remains—total 165 hours, 25 minutes, and 14 seconds.
Those who fail will be erased!”

Suddenly!

Liu Mengchao’s warning instantly triggered a reaction among the reincarnators. The prize pool amount jumped from 15,000 to 16,000.

“Getting anxious, are you?” Liu Mengchao stroked his chin and continued issuing missions.
“2. Time until the Lord God’s space mission: Before the school festival, successfully win over Kotonoha Katsura. One week remains—total 165 hours, 24 minutes, and 50 seconds.
Those who fail will be erased!”

The prize pool didn’t increase, but Liu Mengchao wasn’t surprised. Too much fear blunts the spirit, and emotional fluctuations diminish.

“It’s time to give you some hope, reincarnators.”

Zhang Qingqing’s words played in Liu Mengchao’s mind like a recording.

“The Lord God set these two missions so we’d help each other. I think, at the time, our points can probably be shared.”

Shared? No, Liu Mengchao shook his head. How could he leave such a loophole for his dear reincarnators to exploit?

“3. Reincarnators are allowed to transfer Lord God points between themselves.”

Ding!

The prize pool amount instantly surged. Now it was 20,000 points.

Is hope really so precious in your eyes? Or will you use any means necessary, just to survive?

Just to survive?
Or to gain more reward points and live better?

“4. For every 100 points transferred between reincarnators, the Lord God will also deduct 100 reward points from each reincarnator.”

As Liu Mengchao sent out the system prompt, Baiya’s voice sounded in his mind.

“Executor, we can only deduct up to forty percent of the points transferred between team members. If we exceed that, we can’t take anymore.”

“Really?”
Liu Mengchao raised his eyebrow, amused, watching the prize pool climb from 20,000 to 21,000.

“I understand.”

“Executor, is this really okay?”

“It’s fine. I never intended to deduct their transferred reward points.”

If Baiya had a body, she’d surely stare at Liu Mengchao in disbelief.

“Why?”

“Because I’m deceiving them. A psychologist may not possess the wisdom to weigh endless possibilities and choose the best outcome,” Liu Mengchao said, gazing at his palm as if the reincarnators were the tiny lines in his hand, “but I can observe, tease their heartstrings, change their thoughts, like spring rain nourishing silently—finally, with a flick of my fingers, make them dance beneath my threads.”

Prize pool: 20,500 points. It seemed the last mission prompt hadn’t caused much psychological disturbance. But what about the next?

“4. Killing fellow reincarnators is not allowed. For every teammate killed—”

“Executor, for each teammate killed in the reincarnation world, 1,000 Lord God points will be deducted.”

“No… they won’t hear that rule.” Liu Mengchao waved his hand and continued, “100 Lord God points will be deducted.”

Will you kill your own teammates, losing a hundred reward points… or selflessly share your points, arriving at the next reincarnation world with only a meager sum?

I look forward to your performance.

Liu Mengchao parted his lips, exhaled lightly, blowing away a hint of chill.

Li Yang, Hua Weiwei, don’t let my efforts be wasted; Zhang Qingqing, Liu Li, don’t disappoint me either.

Liu Mengchao looked up at the crystal-clear sky, frowning slightly, realizing he’d unwittingly sent them into hell.

Finally, Liu Mengchao glanced at the prize pool: 30,000 points.

Reincarnators, seven days from now, when I see you again, I’ll be watching. Let the prize pool boil like scalding water. When I next see the pool, perhaps it’ll reach 130,000 points.

Turning around, Liu Mengchao looked at Kotonoha, smiling on the bench, and nodded.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

“What is it?”

“Hanfu. We’ll hold a Hanfu parade. After all, I’m an exchange student from China. There should be something with a Chinese flair.”

“Yes!”

Yes.

Liu Mengchao smiled along with Kotonoha.

Wearing long-sleeved Hanfu, holding an ancient Tang saber, he waited quietly for the reincarnators in the bleakness. If you wish to dig your own grave, then when you’re half buried, I’ll be sure to deliver a gentle blow to the exposed head.

As Executor of the Lord God’s space, I guarantee you’ll perish together in your own depravity.

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Yesterday was indeed chapter twenty-four… I mistyped the chapter title when uploading—absolutely dizzy
Today is the third day of the new year… It’s an eruption on the fourth day… (ˉ﹃ˉ) drool
Asking for recommendation votes, asking for favorites, striving to write drafts for tomorrow’s ten-thousand-word burst