Little Pink Starfish

Ever since Liu An arrived at the clothing shop, Yuan Yuanyuan’s lifestyle had, quite frankly, gone from poverty to baller status overnight.

She wasn’t exactly sure why, but lately she kept getting the uncanny feeling she’d picked up an outrageous bargain… or maybe it wasn’t just a feeling.

Last night when she got back home, Yuan Yuanyuan discovered—much to her confusion—that there was a freshly butchered chicken waiting for her in the room.

She stared at the chicken in silence for a good while. The last time she’d eaten meat was probably last week, when a bigshot showed up at the tavern and called over a group of girls to drink with him. The dishes had looked great, so she had shamelessly joined in for a bite…

And now suddenly, a whole chicken?

When she asked about it, it turned out Liu An had been helping the old lady at the poultry stall haul her goods every morning before dawn, and she had given him the chicken as a thank-you gift because he was such a decent kid.

Liu An, you legend.

Even though this was just a broke boss and an even more broke assistant, somehow their little setup actually started to look like a proper business.

Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t help but sigh—Guess I should’ve hired someone a lot sooner.

There was one thing Yuan Yuanyuan had never admitted: the first time she met Liu An, when he was walking down the street in a hospital gown, both she and Tang Shi had seriously thought he was some kind of lunatic.

By the time Demon Chronicle updated with Volume 9, Chapter 15 on Saturday, Liu An had officially been there ten days. And over those ten days, Yuan Yuanyuan had come to think of him as the most competent assistant she could’ve imagined.

On his tenth day, she decided to throw a tiny welcome party for him. After all, she’d pretty much ignored him on his first day because his first impression had been so bad.

So that day, she bought a small cake—on sale at the shop downstairs—and sat in the room, flipping through comics while waiting for him to come back.

Based on his usual routine, Liu An typically left around 7 p.m., returned around 4 a.m., brought back groceries, cooked food, slept a bit, then woke up around noon to work again.

Yuan Yuanyuan sat with a cup of tea, sipping while watching the little loading flower spin on the comic app, wondering what today’s update would be about.

As soon as the new chapter loaded, her eyebrows shot up.

Damn. Long time no see—and today’s chapter is about me again.

Right on the cover was a massive illustration of Yuan (the character). Based on the pattern, the person on the cover usually meant that issue was all about them.

So far, Yuan had only appeared on the cover twice—both back in Volume 1. This was the first time she’d reappeared on the cover in Volume 9.

Since it was related to her, Yuan Yuanyuan immediately sat up straight and focused on the update.

At the same moment, countless other readers were flipping to that same issue, ready to devour the content inside.

---

[A sky drenched in red. Corpses littered the ground, piled so densely they completely covered the earth beneath them.]

The coloring hit Yuan Yuanyuan like a punch to the face. It was so intense, so gory. Every time Jiuqiu illustrated a war scene, it made her stomach churn.

Back when she had no idea what was going on, she could only say, “Whoa, amazing art, super cool!” But now, when she saw that sea of red, her gut tightened. If the comic hadn’t been about her, she honestly wouldn’t keep reading—it was too damn stressful.

The first few pages were massive double-spreads depicting a battlefield. Yuan Yuanyuan frowned deeply as she read. It wasn’t clear where the scene was set, but something inside her whispered that it wasn’t good.

One thought popped into her head: It’s finally here, isn’t it?

…A long time ago, when she first learned about what had happened during “17,” she had this feeling. One day, the comic would inevitably cover that dark chapter of war.

And with the tone of Volume 9 turning darker by the chapter, she’d suspected it even more. This volume seemed poised to expose the underbelly of the demon world.

Now add that to today’s cover…

Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt like this was the moment foretold in the story—the one people whispered about: “The destined reckoning has come.”

Okay, yeah, that sounded super melodramatic.

She wiped sweat from her forehead, not sure when she’d started sweating in the first place.

Even though she knew comic artists loved this kind of formula—even if it was adapted from real events—the realization still gave her a headache.

She always hoped: Please don’t mention it this time. Just skip over it. Please…

She got up, grabbed some snacks, and returned to keep reading.

Meanwhile, other readers across the city were opening the new chapter too.

---

[Beneath the crimson sky, a murky yellow hue lingered—this was the sky’s natural color here.]

[The locals never quite knew why, but this place always felt dirty. It barely rained, yet the sky was never clear either.]

[But today, among the usual yellow tint, streaks of red had crept in—bloody, unsettling. Even the crows flying overhead had crimson eyes.]

“Damn… that color alone is unsettling,” Gao Ling muttered, echoing the same reaction Yuan Yuanyuan had. Honestly, even thinking about this scene in real life gave him chills.

Then he looked at Yuan on the cover and couldn’t help wondering—Could this place be connected to her? But why would this horrific, blood-soaked setting have anything to do with that weirdo?

Driven by morbid curiosity, Gao Ling kept reading. He’d always been interested in Yuan. But Jiuqiu never gave much info. All they knew was: in the demon world, Yuan was considered a traitor, once went undercover as a woman, and… that was it.

The next panel made Gao Ling shout, “Holy crap!!”

“Holy crap!”

In another dark alley, a man in an army coat shouted the same thing.

After yelling, he quickly clamped his hand over his mouth and glanced around. No one nearby. He exhaled in relief. He really should be clocking out by now, but he had to finish reading this.

On his phone was a full-page panel: a man covered in blood, lying half-conscious on the ground.

He wore a blood-red robe, long bangs covering half his face.

[A faceless figure was dragging him. The man on the ground stumbled and bled continuously, blending into the surrounding corpses and his own crimson clothes.]

Oh hell… things are about to go down. Liu An stared at the image, scalp tingling.

He wasn’t sure how to describe the feeling—but Jiuqiu had actually drawn it. He never thought that war would make it into the comic. He’d always assumed it was off-limits.

After meeting Yuan, Liu An had searched desperately for any info on that war… but most of what he found was disturbing and fragmented.

He figured Jiuqiu wouldn’t touch it—because drawing it would be like striking a match to a fuse.

But now… he drew it.

He actually drew it.

Liu An looked up at the dark, ink-like sky. Heavy and oppressive.

The person being dragged had a face that readers would recognize—“Ran Niang.” But now the makeup was smudged, hair messy, and bits of his true appearance began to emerge.

Liu An didn’t know when it happened, but somehow, two faces he once thought completely different… now looked eerily alike.

No—maybe they weren’t two people. Because they were always the same person.

[The man on the ground had no strength left to stand. He was being dragged by both arms, hands soaked in blood.]

[“Where… are you taking me?” he mumbled.]

[“To the Tribunal,” said the faceless figure dragging him.]

[“Tribunal?” the man echoed faintly. “Why there…?”]

[“Violation of military orders.”]

[“I didn’t disobey…” the man whispered. “All the demons here… died in battle. I’m the only one left.”]

[Silence fell between them. They walked through the sea of corpses.]

[Every body had a fatal wound—holes in their chests or heads. Each strike clean, lethal. Almost as if done by the same hand.]

The scene shifted.

A cold, solemn hall. Dozens of figures with obscured faces sat in judgment, staring at the man tied to the chair.

[Bright white light beamed from above, harsh and blinding.]

[The man sat quietly, head bowed. His makeup had been wiped clean, his clothes changed to all white. He looked like a mental patient in restraints.]

[“Violation of retreat orders. Despite holding the rank of lieutenant general, you remained at the Qining frontline, resulting in the total death of demon forces.”]

[A dignified voice echoed through the chamber.]

[“Did you do this?”]

[“…Yes.” came a faint voice.]

[A stir ran through the crowd.]

[“Violation of Article 18 of the Human-Demon Accord—unlawful slaughter. Are you guilty?”]

[“…Yes.”]

[The white light above felt like a surgical lamp, searing the eyes.]

[One charge after another. The voices of the judges grew louder, while the accused spoke softer and softer, his head bowed, like he was asleep.]

[Finally, when the word “Judgment complete” was spoken—the blinding white turned to a deep, endless black.]

---

[A man jolted upright in bed. He looked into the dark night outside. Silence. A soft amber light cast over his expressionless face, turning him into a statue.]

…

“Okay, no. Can you not tack on scenes like that?” Yuan Yuanyuan finally blurted after a long pause. “I’m already barely sleeping, exhausted from demon arts practice every day, and now you’ve got me doing moody midnight meditations too?”

She sat among a mess of empty snack wrappers—bones from the chicken, chip bags, instant noodles, and even frozen pear cores. She’d unknowingly eaten through all the stockpile in the shop and was just now settling down to read the comic.

The earlier scenes had her brain feeling like mashed potatoes. But the final bit was just too dramatic, and she couldn’t help breaking the mood with a joke.

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” she shouted.

The door opened—but got stuck. Looking back, she realized it was blocked by an empty plastic bottle.

As the person walked in, they passed by the trail of debris: chicken bones, snack bags, bread crumbs, pear cores…

He walked into the middle of the room, looked at the person slumped in the center, and asked, “Boss, why aren’t you asleep yet? Who had a rager in here all night?”

“No… I just… couldn’t move anymore. Decided to sleep right here. Can you grab me a blanket from upstairs? Oh, and—there was a cake for you over there, but I might’ve eaten half… sorry… I’ll check tomorrow if they’re still on sale…”

Having said that, the boss lazily used her foot to pull over another chair, shoved the two together, and flopped down to sleep in a crooked sprawl.

Liu An walked over and immediately caught a whiff. He looked down—sure enough, there were a few empty bottles.

As he headed upstairs to fetch the blanket, he called back without turning around,
“Boss… did you drink?”