Little Pink Starfish

Pei Sen hadn’t paid much attention to it at first, not until someone on the forum posted that their second beta account had been sold.
Some players who weren’t particularly well off were willing to wait a month for the third beta test, which would have ten thousand slots. Even if they weren’t selected, they could still wait for the open beta. It was hard to let go, but when someone was offering that much money, there were always those who would sell.

Although each person could only apply for one account using a unique ID, the ID could still be reset once before logging in through a game pod. So before actually entering the game, people could change the bound ID. But once someone logged in via a pod, the account and ID would be permanently bound, and further transfers would be impossible.

Nearly every major domestic game company had managed to buy at least a few accounts to get into the second beta.
Some forum posts even said, “Ahem, I heard some folks up top also got in. Virtual reality tech has military applications, you know… and with how advanced the NPC intelligence is, people are starting to throw around terms like ‘AI’… you know what I mean…”

But Bix Magic Cube was way too mysterious. Even though the developers were clearly very cautious—censoring and masking all sorts of content—no one had yet figured out which company actually made the game.
Lots of people were drooling over this tech. Since they couldn’t find the creators, all they could do was take the backdoor—get into the game and poke around.

Pei Sen scratched his chin thoughtfully. “They’re not going to do anything too crazy, right?”

Well, maybe. How much worse could it get? At this point, the name “Bixian” had become practically synonymous with madness.

Meanwhile, Designer, Architect, and TuTuDraws were already plotting how to catch Kui Wolf.
As a professional game designer, Designer was deeply familiar with how games usually worked—but he quickly realized that Bix Magic Cube didn’t follow standard design rules.
Still, no big deal. He was also a pro at manipulating NPCs.

While other players rushed straight to Golden Rose Manor, Designer had a different plan: if they could catch Kui Wolf and hand him over to the manor without a quest, and still receive a reward, it would prove the game’s AI and freedom were even higher than he thought.

Kui Wolf, on the other hand, was already planning to run.

He’d thought that having City Lord Varys as a backer would keep him safe no matter what—but now, clearly, that wasn’t the case.
Varys had backed down. That might’ve been a secret to others, but Kui Wolf knew the truth: the young master in the manor was way more powerful than the city lord.
To Kui Wolf, that was an earth-shattering realization.

And more than anything, he wanted to stop dealing with those creepy Bixians.

He had once tried to catch one of the young master’s attendants and almost managed to sell him off—no weird vibes at the time.
But the later ones he tried to capture? They were strange. His men said they couldn’t even touch them—it was like some kind of magical protection.
That was when Kui Wolf decided he was done. No more messing with those weirdos.

He had no idea that players had a system-enforced protection layer.
Before the beta started, Pei Sen hadn’t had that kind of protection—he’d felt real pain and had no censorship.
But after the beta began, all players were under system protection. No harassment beyond the limit. Naturally, Kui Wolf’s plans were doomed to fail.

“I found him,” TuTuDraws said, pointing at a nearby street. “Wasn’t hard. Half of Casey City’s already demolished—the search area’s tiny now.”

Architect compared a nearby NPC to forum screenshots of Kui Wolf’s henchmen. “Yeah, that’s one of his guys for sure.” He looked at Designer. “What now? We can’t just charge in and grab him, can we?”

Designer thought for a moment. “Let’s find a few bored players to help. Lure his goons away.”

Their real goal was to catch Kui Wolf and deliver him to Golden Rose Manor for a possible reward.

In truth, Kui Wolf was just a minor character. Pei Sen didn’t really care about revenge—he had a system panel, after all, and hadn’t suffered any serious consequences. Kui Wolf didn’t even rank as a true enemy.

But he was still a human trafficker. Even in the real world, that kind of scum deserved to die.

Since the player base had shown up, Pei Sen’s focus had shifted almost entirely to them. Kui Wolf was all but forgotten—until that Claude guy got conned by him.
Only then did Pei Sen remember this pest existed.

Pei Sen knew that, if Eagle so much as said the word, Kui Wolf would’ve been dead a long time ago.
Varys wouldn’t protect him—couldn’t protect him.

Right now, Eagle had his sights set on taking Varys down.
To Pei Sen, Varys was already finished, and Kui Wolf was a toothless dog—his fate completely out of his hands.

Pei Sen had originally planned to settle things later. What he didn’t expect… was that Kui Wolf had already chickened out and tried to run.

Just like Designer said, in a game with this much freedom, you didn’t need brute force to capture someone. They managed to catch the slaver with a trap.

At this point, the three of them were still level 1. Kui Wolf, technically a level 2 swordsman, had the strength of a level 20-something player.
But with his nerves shot, his intelligence plummeted—and Designer had him tied up tight.

In a dark, shabby room, Kui Wolf trembled as he stared at the three in front of him.
As someone who’d run a human trafficking ring in Casey City for years, he was no coward.
But he had never—never—seen eyes like theirs.

Sometimes, death wasn’t the scariest thing.
There were things far worse.

The three Bixians in front of him didn’t look at him like he was a person.
They looked at him like a jar. Or a rug. Something cold and dehumanizing. It made his skin crawl.

“Why’d you call me here?” BraisedSpicySnack pushed the door open. “I’m busy, you know. Starfall Plains is wild.”

Designer glanced over. “Why the hell did you pick a name like that?”

Though Designer was already a well-known name in the industry, he was still quite young—like most people in gaming.

He and BraisedSpicySnack had known each other in real life, back when they were both overseas students.
After returning to China, they’d kept in touch.

BraisedSpicySnack snorted. “What’s wrong with the name? I like it.”

Then he saw Kui Wolf, bound to a wooden plank. “Uh, what exactly are you guys planning?”

Designer grinned. “It’s a high-freedom game, right? We’re experimenting. Didn’t think we’d actually catch him. Now we want to collect some data.”

BraisedSpicySnack raised an eyebrow. “So you want me to…”

“You’re a surgeon, aren’t you?”

Gotta admit—it was a genius idea.
BraisedSpicySnack hadn’t thought his profession would be useful in-game outside of combat, but here they were.

“This is just a game, though. You think if I slice open an NPC’s stomach, I’ll see accurate human anatomy?”

Even high-precision games didn’t really go that far.
And Kui Wolf, while a named NPC, wasn’t a major character.

Still, Designer raised an eyebrow. “This game’s detail is insane. NPC body proportions are perfectly modeled on real humans.”
He ran a hand across Kui Wolf’s skin. “Even the texture feels real.”

Thanks to the system’s protection, he couldn’t touch certain areas—but hands and face were fair game.

Kui Wolf shook harder as he felt those cold fingers explore his face and hands.

Some keywords—like “NPC,” “forum,” “system,” “panel,” and “real humans”—were censored by the game. Kui Wolf heard those words as static.
But “cut open the abdomen” and “human anatomy”? Those came through loud and clear. Enough to make him nearly faint from fear.

Architect muttered, “If we want detailed data, we should strip him—but the system might censor it.”

“True,” said Designer. “But there are ways around that.”
He knew the limits of most games and how to skirt censorship.
He gestured to BraisedSpicySnack. “Let me borrow your iron sword.”

BraisedSpicySnack tossed it over. Even if it was a discarded manor weapon, it was still sharp.

Designer didn’t even check the stats. He simply started slicing Kui Wolf’s clothes—carefully avoiding sensitive areas to prevent censorship.

Soon, Kui Wolf’s outfit was shredded. Most of his skin was exposed, but nothing was censored.

Designer nodded in satisfaction. “Just as I thought. In a game this open, if you know the rules, you can bypass the filters.”

Architect lifted the tatters with a stick and started documenting the “model.”

“Yup. Proportions are dead-on. Musculature is realistic. Might be worth slicing the skin later to check for muscle texture.”

TuTuDraws leaned in. “The texture is insane. Look, even the body hair is super realistic.”

By now, even BraisedSpicySnack was curious. “Wanna let me open him up?”

Kui Wolf twitched violently. “P-please… spare me… money? I’ll give you all of it…”

The slaver, once so fearless, was now begging for his life.

“Hey, boss—he’s sweating,” TuTuDraws noted.

Architect nodded. “Cold sweat. That’s wild.”

Designer was fascinated. “The AI is this good? That fear looks way too real. I used to think maybe some of these smart NPCs were played by live actors… but now? No way this guy’s an actor.”

Designer accidentally cut Kui Wolf’s skin. Blood sprayed out.

BraisedSpicySnack glanced at it. “That’s fake. Wrong color. Volume’s off.”

Designer nodded. “Censorship measures.”

TuTuDraws laughed. “If the gore were too realistic, this game wouldn’t be allowed to exist.”

Sometimes, too much realism wasn’t a good thing.

They uploaded their data and notes to a hidden, locked forum post, to be decrypted and shared after the game session.

“Next, we test his AI,” Designer said. “You can examine his anatomy, but try not to kill him.”

“As long as he doesn’t die?” BraisedSpicySnack grinned. “Easy. I’ll just watch his HP.”

Kui Wolf gave one last twitch and wished he could just pass out.

Back in the manor, Pei Sen was helping Neil handle the flood of second beta players.
Even Eagle was surprised at how many Bixians suddenly appeared.

Pei Sen had to beg just to be allowed outside for a bit—Eagle reluctantly agreed.

Though the manor had plenty of servants, many were like Camis: scared of the crazy Bixians. Neil had decent mental fortitude, but even he was nearing his breaking point, surrounded by players who bombarded him with questions like broken record machines.

The sheer number of second beta players—ten times more than before—was overwhelming.
Now, instead of one-on-one convos, entire groups tried to talk to a single NPC.
It nearly turned into a brawl, until Neil shouted that combat was forbidden in the manor, or they’d suffer consequences.

The manor’s staff had never seen anything like it. These Bixians were clearly educated, yet they gave off a savage, violent, bloodthirsty vibe that made them hard to approach.

When Pei Sen appeared, the crowd instantly shifted toward him.

Such was the power of a fan-favorite NPC. Especially the female players—who practically abandoned all others to swarm around him.

Thankfully, the system prevented any unwanted contact.

Some male players were interested too—mostly because of his status as the faction merchant NPC.
Pei Sen controlled access to the latest faction shop inventory.

Yes, the faction shop refreshed periodically.
Eagle would sometimes throw him random things—like a featherless cat toy for the fat cat Peckes. It was mostly gold tassels and gemstones. Fancy, if useless.

Pei Sen knew how to handle players:
“Please complete your quests in Casey City. Once you’ve earned enough contribution points, you’ll be able to redeem your rewards here. The rewards vary. If something rare appears and you don’t have the points—well, too bad.”

The second beta players quickly realized they were behind. They stopped dawdling and ran off to Casey City.

Well, most of them.

One female player shouted, “Pei Sen! Do you like your young master?!”

Pei Sen’s face froze. He knew this would happen someday.

“Of course, I respect and admire the young master.”

“Heehee, just drop the first three words and leave it at ‘love’!”

Pei Sen: “……”

These second beta players… really were more annoying than the first wave.

After a while, Eagle summoned Pei Sen back inside. He shot Neil a look—hang in there—then slipped away.

Some players had wanted to sneak into the manor, but seeing the heavily armed guards and the threat of faction penalties, they wisely gave up.

Back with Eagle, Pei Sen found him playing with a brand new cat toy.

“You respect and admire me?” Eagle asked.

Pei Sen froze. Someone must’ve tattled.

“Oh, no one told me,” Eagle said casually. “I placed a magic eye and ear there. Back in Casey City, I realized just the eye wasn’t enough—these Bixians are hilarious.”

Pei Sen: “……”

He prayed the players would stop spouting nonsense. Especially shipper nonsense.

Magic eyes and ears weren’t cheap. Anything with the word “magic” wasn’t.

But if Eagle wanted something, price didn’t matter.

“I haven’t seen anything this entertaining in ages,” Eagle said, amused by how the manor’s staff were cracking under the Bixians’ chaos.

“As long as you’re happy,” Pei Sen said helplessly.

Eagle gave him a look but didn’t say what he was thinking.

Those Bixians were Pei Sen’s people… so why did they say he liked the young master?

Like… as in like-like?

Eagle’s expression darkened as he rested his chin on his hand.

Pei Sen noticed the shift and tensed. The brat was always moody.

“Pei Sen.”

“Young master?”

“Go steam some fish for Peckes.”

“Yes, young master.”

“I don’t want to see a single bone in that fish!”

Pei Sen: “……”
It’s for the cat, not you!

The fat cat opened its eyes and smugly rubbed against Eagle’s hand, meowing sweetly.

Pei Sen: “……”
Stupid fat cat.

He’d barely made it to the kitchen when a maid came to fetch him again. He sighed—what now?

Back in the room, Eagle was watching the magic eye feed.

“Pei Sen, is this Kui Wolf your enemy?”

Pei Sen looked at the screen and was surprised to see a few players standing before Neil—with a barely breathing Kui Wolf.

“Yes. Didn’t expect them to catch him.”

Eagle nodded. “I see. Then give them a reward. As for him—leave him here. We’ll kill him. Just don’t dirty the front hall.”

“Yes, young master.”

Pei Sen hadn’t expected Eagle to be so accommodating—especially after he’d just made him cook fish.

Now he was even giving extra rewards for Pei Sen’s enemy and letting Pei Sen handle the punishment.

Definitely moody.

As he approached the players, Pei Sen noticed something familiar about the man in the middle.

Designer had been on the news and interviewed multiple times. He hadn’t even altered his appearance in-game, so it wasn’t strange to recognize him.

Designer didn’t mind being recognized. In fact, he thought it might be an advantage.
And it was—if someone hadn’t recognized him, bored players might not have helped him catch Kui Wolf.

BraisedSpicySnack had also helped, though he was already off in Starfall Plains and wasn’t interested in sharing rewards.

“You caught Kui Wolf?”

More like barely caught. Kui Wolf looked like he had one foot in the grave. His eyes moved sluggishly, and when he saw Pei Sen, he actually sighed in relief.

“Kill me… just kill me…” he murmured, completely broken.

Pei Sen blinked in surprise.
This slaver scum had always seemed tough—how had he been pushed this far?

What the hell happened to him?

---

Pinky says: Sup fellas, I just want to make sure the names of things are all good. Proper nouns, especially ones that are meant to be phonetically comparable to English, can be spelled differently. Checking in to make sure everything makes sense so far. Thanks for your assistance fellas, pinky out.