Chapter Thirty-One: The Bystander Mode?

The school festival had come to an end. Liu Mengchao sat alone in the empty classroom, waiting for the other Reincarnator, Hua Weiwei. The great net of human hearts had already been cast by Liu Mengchao; now, all he needed was patience, waiting for the struggling fish to finally bite the hook.

“Ding!”

Suddenly, the system prompt sounded in Liu Mengchao’s mind.

“My lord Executor.” Bai Ya’s voice, as always, was filled with respect. “There are only two hours left before the mission from the Lord God’s Space concludes.”

“I know.” Liu Mengchao gazed into the pitch-black classroom, a faint smile curling at his lips. Not being able to witness the grand finale of this play he had orchestrated left him with a sliver of regret.

“As per the usual procedure—”

“Procedure?” Liu Mengchao’s brows furrowed. “What procedure?”

“The usual process for distributing rewards, which I used to handle. But now that you are here, my lord Executor, you have the right to supervise it personally.”

“May I ask…” The voice was cold and severe, like the depths of winter. “My lord Executor, do you wish to activate Observer Mode to supervise the secretary of the Lord God as rewards are distributed?”

“Observer Mode?” Liu Mengchao vaguely remembered that activating this mode required a significant amount of prize pool points—if he recalled correctly, a hundred thousand points were needed.

With this in mind, Liu Mengchao glanced at the system panel in front of him.

Prize Pool Points: 33,000.

“You’re joking, Bai Ya. If I were to activate Observer Mode now, my prize pool would instantly be in the red.”

“Please allow me to explain, my lord Executor. Choosing Observer Mode when entering the Lord God’s mission world means you view, assess, and judge everything from the Lord God’s perspective. This requires a great deal of prize pool points—the so-called one hundred thousand points is only the hourly rate.”

“That’s actually not much…” Liu Mengchao suddenly realized he might never use this so-called Observer Mode in his lifetime.

“However, in the final two hours of the Lord God’s mission world, my lord Executor, you need not spend any prize pool points to activate Observer Mode.”

“Why?” Liu Mengchao’s answer was short and direct. He didn’t believe such luck would simply fall into his lap.

“It’s partly to ensure the Reincarnators’ progress can be monitored at all times, and partly to help you accumulate experience for overseeing multiple reincarnation worlds in the future.”

“Accumulate experience?” Liu Mengchao shook his head. Experience wasn’t what he needed now; he simply wanted to witness the play he had directed.

“In that case… Bai Ya, activate Observer Mode!”

One by one, meteors began to fall before Liu Mengchao’s eyes. In an instant, the once pitch-dark classroom was filled with starlight.

“What is happening?” No sooner had the question left his lips than he noticed all the meteors before him freeze—not quite frozen, but rather, from being enough to fill the entire classroom, only four remained, suspended steadily in midair.

“Bai Ya…” Liu Mengchao gazed with interest at the four floating meteors before him, smiling as he asked, “Do these four stars represent the four Reincarnators?”

“Yes!”

Although she had no physical body, Liu Mengchao could almost see Bai Ya’s hand reaching out and bringing one of the suspended meteors before him.

“This one is Hua Weiwei’s. Currently, her potential rating is still zero.”

As Bai Ya finished speaking, Liu Mengchao saw the star suddenly unfold like a screen before his eyes.

On the screen, Hua Weiwei gripped her phone, wandering aimlessly around the campus.

Strange.

Liu Mengchao noticed there was no sign of tension or anxiety on Hua Weiwei’s face—she appeared as if she were doing something entirely unrelated to herself.

“Have you given up already? Or have you made your decision, waiting for fate’s judgment?”

Liu Mengchao smiled and shook his head. With a gesture, he closed his hand. The meteor showing Hua Weiwei’s image instantly folded in, shrinking to the size of a grain of rice, and with a soft sound, returned to the cluster of four stars still floating in the air.

Now, which one should I look at next?

Smiling, Liu Mengchao carefully studied the four meteors and suddenly noticed one was brighter than the rest.

“This one…”

Curious, Liu Mengchao beckoned the meteor toward him.

With arms outstretched, he opened the meteor, parting it like Moses parting the Red Sea. The sensation was not unlike opening a photo on an iPhone—what was once a tiny dot expanded to fill his vision with a complete scene.

“So, it’s you!”

Seeing the figure on the screen, Liu Mengchao began to laugh.

Li Yang stood alone in the biting winter wind, occasionally glancing about. Clearly, Zhang Qingqing had instructed him to guard the lounge and not let anyone enter their territory.

All of it was to drive Makoto Ito into utter despair with this world.

“Qingqing…”

Li Yang’s face was anything but calm. Whether it was the cold night wind or something else, his entire face had turned ashen.

“No…”

Liu Mengchao narrowed his eyes, studying Li Yang’s expression, and shook his head.

“You’re probably ashen from excitement, not the cold. And the reason for that excitement, I suppose, is anger and frustration…?”

With a wave of his left hand, he beckoned another star with his right.

He noticed this meteor was not as bright as Li Yang’s had been.

“The brightness of each person’s meteor must vary…” The first, Hua Weiwei’s, had been dull, and she had merely been wandering the campus with a calm expression. So, perhaps the brightness reflects the psychological fluctuations of each Reincarnator?

Let’s try another!

Without hesitation, Liu Mengchao moved the last meteor into view.

This one…

As soon as he opened it, Liu Mengchao saw the figure inside.

Long legs, a slender waist, and a face both alluringly angry and seductive.

Zhang Qingqing.

Then the last one must be Liu Li, with his golden hair.

With a flick of his left hand, the final meteor floated before him and unfolded. Left and right, the two images combined into one complete scene.

On the left, leaning against the wall, was the thug Liu Li.

On the right, pressed against Liu Li, was the outstanding—no, beautiful—actress Zhang Qingqing.

Their posture was full of raw, primal allure. Were it not for the fear of an accident, Liu Mengchao was certain that Zhang Qingqing would not have a single piece of clothing left on her.

“Emotional fluctuations… As a seasoned actress, Zhang Qingqing must be quite used to such situations. So, her meteor appears dimmer?”

Muttering to himself, Liu Mengchao glanced sideways at Liu Li’s meteor. Sure enough, its light was much brighter than Zhang Qingqing’s—expected, since he was a man.

“Ding!”

The system prompt sounded abruptly in Liu Mengchao’s mind.

“Mission One: Drive Makoto Ito to despair—completed!”

By the time Liu Mengchao returned to himself, he saw the lounge doors swing open, and seven or eight drunken men, completely naked, streamed out one after another, their faces wearing satisfied grins.

“Let them enjoy themselves a little longer…”

As Bai Ya’s voice urged him to distribute the mission rewards, Liu Mengchao finally stirred.

“Distributing mission rewards: 1. Drive Makoto Ito to despair—mission accomplished! Accomplished by: Zhang Qingqing. Reward: 1000 prize pool points. Confirm distribution!”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the prize pool balance dropped by a thousand points.

At the same time, Zhang Qingqing’s meteor suddenly blazed like a flame, shining with dazzling brilliance.

Prize pool balance: fluctuating.

Liu Mengchao leaned forward slightly, watching Zhang Qingqing on the screen with amusement.

“A sudden surge of psychological fluctuation—is it the joy of completing the mission, or murderous intent?”

Prize pool points: 33,000. Not a point more, not a point less—the amount just distributed was instantly restored by Zhang Qingqing’s emotional turmoil.

No, Liu Mengchao was convinced it would only grow.

Because now, no one understood the psychological states of these Reincarnators better than he did.

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Sigh… I heard there’s a comic convention in Nanjing on March 24th… I’d love to go with some girls…

Also, in our group, the master of writing risqué stories has recently changed their name to R1.