Little Pink Starfish

Eagle reluctantly opened his eyes, clearly in a bad mood.

But Pei Sen didn’t think much of it. This young master had always had a terrible temper—wasn’t morning grumpiness just par for the course?

No one likes being woken shortly after falling asleep, after all.

Pei Sen quickly and succinctly summarized the current situation.
“Young Master, Kesso is trapped in Casey City. What should we do?”

“You mean he brought a few people with him?”

“Yes, some rather strange ones.” Pei Sen didn’t understand it. Kesso was the deputy steward of Golden Rose Manor—if he wanted to come back, fine. But why sneak around in a black cloak and bring along several mysterious experts? What was he trying to do?

Eagle thought for a moment. “Let me see that ring.”

Pei Sen was about to hand the ring over when Eagle raised a hand to stop him. He got out of bed, grabbed a handkerchief from nearby, and gestured for Pei Sen to place the ring on it.

His obsessive cleanliness had kicked in again. It was an old ring of unknown origin—he clearly didn’t want to touch it directly.

Just by looking at the ring, Eagle already seemed displeased. Back when Pei Sen gave him the Thousand Illusions Ring, if it hadn’t been a gift from Pei Sen himself, Eagle wouldn’t have worn it at all.

“It doesn’t look like anything special,” he commented after examining it closely.

Pei Sen pointed to the inside of the ring. “Judging from this, it likely belonged to someone named Berfield.”

Eagle’s expression darkened. “Berfield?”

“You know them, Young Master?”

“Of course I do. Decades ago, the Berfield family was a powerful noble house. In fact, the Berfield lady even married into Orlington and became queen. That’s right—Leiser and my mother, Princess Carolina, come from the Berfield maternal line.”

But that family had long since declined. According to rumor, that was the reason the Berfield queen died shortly after giving birth to Leiser and Carolina. Most of the Orlington King’s children were born of various mistresses, and his new queen bore no children at all.

But Eagle knew more than the rumors. The queen’s death wasn’t really due to her family’s downfall. The King had genuinely cared for her.

Her death was actually caused by the same “illness” that plagued Leiser—a hereditary condition originating in the Berfield bloodline. The Kingdom of Esmia had no such cursed inheritance. The Orlington King was robust and healthy. The queen had died from a curse.

Interestingly, Eagle’s mother, Princess Carolina, was the only member of the Berfield family not to inherit this trait, even though she had Berfield blood.

“I think I know what this is now,” Eagle said, picking up the ring without using the handkerchief this time. “It’s the Secret Sigil Ring of the Berfield family.”

Pei Sen had never heard of such a thing. Even as a veteran player of Bix Magic Cube, he prided himself on knowing a lot about the continent of Yali. But before his transmigration, players’ exploration of Yali had been shallow. Especially when it came to the nobility, players had a hard time getting involved—early on, basic communication was even a problem.

The game’s censorship systems were strong, and players didn’t pay much attention to lore.

“What’s a Secret Sigil Ring?”

“It’s something nobles use to store their most valuable items in a way that doesn’t attract attention,” Eagle explained slowly. “Even if you build a treasure vault, someone with extraordinary power could find a way in. You know this world is filled with supernaturals.”

Especially those skilled in shadow movement—even shadow cats like Pecks could cause unexpected destruction.

This wasn’t the scientific, atheistic world Pei Sen had come from—it was a land filled with powers beyond imagination.

“So, nobles forged these special rings to store important items. Each ring is bound with a sigil that only people registered to it can access.”

Pei Sen had a sudden realization. “So only people of that bloodline can be registered to it?”

“Not necessarily,” Eagle said as he examined the ring. “Anyone can be registered. For example, even if a nobleman’s wife isn’t of the same family, she can still open the ring if her name is recorded in the sigil.”

Pei Sen nodded, starting to understand how the ring worked.

Eagle looked calmly at the ring. “Pei Sen, do you think Kesso deliberately handed that magic book to you?”

“Yes. I only teased him a little, and he gave me the book without resistance. Looking back, that was out of character—suspicious, really.” Pei Sen frowned. “But if he wanted the ring, why go to all that trouble to hide it and then give it to me? And now he’s come back to retrieve it? It doesn’t make sense.”

Eagle continued, “The secret of a sigil ring is that it responds to its current master. If that person dies or loses control of it, it responds to the next registered person. Each registered owner can sense the ring’s location. That’s why Kesso gave it to you—he wanted to mislead the original owner.”

His analysis was calm and methodical, like someone with decades of experience.

“The original owner was probably still alive and had instructed Kesso to pass the ring to you. Since the ring responds to registered bloodlines, if Kesso tried to keep it, the owner would still sense its location. So he hid it in the manor, making it seem like it never left.”

Pei Sen understood immediately—Kesso had deceived the original owner into thinking the ring remained at the manor. But in reality, he’d hidden it and handed it to Pei Sen to obscure its location.

“Then why is he back now… to get the ring?” Pei Sen had to entertain the conspiracy. Why else sneak into Casey City on a stormy night?

Eagle chuckled lightly. “The previous owner must have died. That’s why he’s back. I’m guessing the second name recorded on the sigil… is mine.”

Pei Sen: “…”

So, the ring was to be inherited by Eagle. Kesso likely thought he could trick the dying owner and keep the ring for himself—then claim it after their death.

And now that Pei Sen had it, and the owner was likely dead, Kesso had rushed back to take it for himself.

“So now you’re the ring’s current owner?” Pei Sen asked, intrigued. An inheritance from an ancient noble family must contain something valuable to tempt a high-ranking mage like Kesso. Whatever it was, it must be worth a fortune.

Eagle gave a soft “Mm.” “So Kesso was after this ring all along. I thought he had a better motive. But it’s just petty tricks.”

Pei Sen mused to himself—petty or not, if it works, it works. “If Kesso forces his way in and takes the ring, how would he open it if he’s not in the sigil?”

“Simple,” Eagle said lazily. “He just has to capture me and force the current owner—me—to register him in the sigil.”

Pei Sen: “…”

How could he say such a terrifying thing so casually?

“Since we know his intentions now, if your people can’t handle him, send Sadin.” Eagle sounded bored, already uninterested in Kesso. “Capture him. We might learn more about the ring.”

Pei Sen also wanted to know what was in the ring, but handling Kesso came first. He nodded. “I’ll go find Sadin.”

Eagle yawned. “Then I’m going back to sleep. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

Pei Sen quickly took his leave.

Eagle hadn’t really gone back to sleep after being disturbed. After Pei Sen left, he looked again at the ring in his hand. “Berfield…”

That family had truly fallen. Nearly erased. So why would they entrust the ring to him?

After all, Leiser was still in the capital—and he was more closely related by blood. Leiser’s maternal grandfather was the last head of the Berfield family.

Eagle didn’t rush to open the ring. As a noble, he knew how these rings worked. He casually tossed it onto the sleeping Pecks.

“Pecks, you didn’t wake up the entire time I was talking to Pei Sen. You really can sleep.”

Pecks: “???”

As a cat, Pecks instinctively sensed his master’s sour mood. He nervously meowed again, unsure what he’d done wrong.

Eagle sneered. “Keep that ring safe for me. Don’t let anyone take it. I’ll get it from you tomorrow.”

The cat stared at the ring. Why me? I’m a cat, not a watchdog…

Grudgingly, but not daring to disobey, Pecks got up, took the ring in his mouth, looked around for a bit, then stuffed it into his nest and lay directly on top of it. His plump body completely concealed the ring.

Pecks stretched contentedly and went back to sleep.

Eagle turned toward the massive silver mirror in his bedroom.

On the continent of Yali, mercury mirrors like this one weren’t uncommon among the nobility—but they were expensive. Nobles used them to check their appearance.

Eagle stared at his reflection. At fifteen, he was considered an adult in Yali. The people of this world had more Western features, so he didn’t look particularly young.

He had long golden hair, emerald eyes that shimmered under the dim light of a magical crystal lamp. In the soft glow, his pale, handsome face gained a certain allure.

“I’ve grown up,” he said softly. “So why does Pei Sen still look at me like I’m a child?”

He was already almost taller than Pei Sen—likely thanks to his Esmian blood. Leiser was much taller than average, and even Princess Carolina was as tall as an adult man.

Eagle had inherited the Lanor family’s beauty and the Esmia family’s height. He was still growing, and would definitely surpass Pei Sen in height.

Though his frame was still a bit thin, his body was clearly maturing.

Looking down at his loose silk pajamas, Eagle pursed his lips. So what if he wasn’t wearing anything underneath? Pei Sen often accompanied him to bathe anyway.

It was part of a personal butler’s duties, after all.

Feeling a bit dejected, Eagle lay back in bed, unable to sleep.

Kesso? He didn’t care about that guy.

The sigil ring? Not that important either.

Right now, all he could think about… was Pei Sen.

---

Pei Sen had no idea what thoughts were running through his young master’s head. He hurried off to find Sadin, in case Kesso actually ended up getting taken out by the players.

A high-level mage… shouldn’t be that useless, right?

Maybe he just needed to put up a few more large-scale defensive barriers.

But Kesso, who was currently surrounded by players, really wasn’t doing well.

He had indeed cast an ice barrier, but maintaining it meant he couldn’t cast any other spells. And if the barrier didn’t cover a full 360 degrees, it couldn’t completely block out the swarm of Bix tribe attackers.

Back then, Royce and Jonna had been “lucky”—there weren’t many Bix tribe members in Adrien City. But Kesso now? He was practically drowning in an ocean of them.

“If this keeps up, I’m done for,” Kesso said grimly, his face pale, rain soaking him to the bone. “I’m afraid my magic reserves won’t last much longer.”

High-tier spells required immense magical energy. The longer he held out, the closer he came to exhaustion—and once he ran dry, he’d lose all ability to fight.

Not far away, a white-haired young man looked equally grim. “We need to break through. If not, we’re all going to die here.”

To be honest, after so many years as a mercenary, he never imagined being pushed this far by a bunch of low-level beings.

But quantity had become quality. Sheer numbers had overwhelmed them.

What confused him most was: what kind of faith drove these beings to fight so fearlessly and relentlessly?

He’d seen some of the finest elite troops in the world, but not even they showed such suicidal resolve.

They talked about breaking through, but with the Bix tribe surrounding them so densely, that was easier said than done.

What worried Kesso even more was that if this dragged on any longer, they wouldn’t have time to break through at all.

It was likely that someone from the Bix tribe had already alerted Golden Rose Manor—and that meant Sadin might show up at any moment.

And that would be the worst possible outcome.

The torrential rain drowned out the sounds of battle.

In Casey City, the civilians huddled in their newly rebuilt homes, trembling in fear. Some peeked out quietly, watching the conflict being swallowed by the downpour.

All they could see were countless Bix tribe members charging forward—only to be cut down again and again.

In recent days, the people of Casey City had built a relatively positive relationship with the Bix tribe. These beings had worked tirelessly to help build houses. They never slacked, asked for nothing in return, and were surprisingly kind.

At first, some had been terrified of these foreign beings, but over time, they began to find them warm and friendly.

With their constant smiles and attractive features, the Bix tribe gradually won over the townsfolk. Bonds formed through repeated interactions.

Casey City had become the main gathering hub for players, and the relationship between them and the townspeople had grown into something resembling true camaraderie. In other areas, civilians might still view players with fear, but here, the locals were slowly starting to accept them.

While still wary, they understood that the Bix tribe wouldn’t attack unless provoked—and that most of them were genuinely kind-hearted.

Earlier, when the Bix tribe had stood like statues in the rain, people had only thought they were strange—not threatening.

With enough peaceful coexistence, the locals had developed a tolerance for the tribe’s odd behavior.

Now, they watched as wave after wave of Bix tribe members were mercilessly cut down.

At first, they stayed hidden in silence. But then they began to feel something stir inside them.

“These people in cloaks aren’t good people.”

“Yeah, sneaking into Casey City like that. They were probably planning something bad.”

“Then the Bix tribe spotted them and bravely stood in their way, fighting them off.”

“Mom, are the Bix tribe protecting us?”

“Maybe they are.”

“No matter how evil the enemy, the Bix tribe never runs. Even if it costs them their lives, they stand and fight.”

“I heard the Bix tribe are loyal warriors who serve their lord. Maybe they’re not bad people at all.”

“They’re not bad. If you don’t do bad things, they won’t hurt you.”

“Yeah. One of the sisters from the Bix tribe made me a flower crown.”

“And an uncle gave me some sweet candy. It was delicious.”

“Today, a big brother gave me a Wild Hopping Rabbit’s leg bone. I’m going to be a swordsman when I grow up!”

“……”

The townsfolk were beginning to realize: the Bix tribe weren’t bad people.

As the battle outside grew more brutal, the townspeople stood by, watching in silence, filled with grief.

“That uncle who gave me candy—is he dead?”

“I saw the flower-crown sister get knocked to the ground. She didn’t get up again.”

“That armored guy was working on our roof just this morning.”

“That one over there looks like the big brother who gave me the rabbit leg bone… but I’m not sure it’s him.”

“Yeah, that’s just his comrade.”

Ordinary people couldn’t join a battle of this scale. They could only watch helplessly as more and more Bix tribe members fell. Their white bones, cleansed by the rain, glistened like jade.

The mood in the city turned heavy and sorrowful. This fight was different from before—many of the fallen were familiar faces.

And these people were being slaughtered.

For the first time, the natives of this world were grieving for the deaths of players.

In recent days, many players had flocked to Casey City, taking part in the rebuilding effort. They completed quests by helping NPCs build homes with their life skills, and most were very friendly—always trying to earn goodwill, even if no task was immediately offered.

When players weren’t being chaotic, they were actually quite endearing. Since the current version of the game didn’t allow for face customization, most players chose to boost their appearance settings, making the Bix tribe very good-looking in the eyes of the townsfolk.

Add to that their diligence and eagerness to help, and they became well-loved.

Compared to their original neighbors and relatives, these strange beings seemed even better. No task was too hard—they were always willing to lend a hand.

Especially with the children of the city, who quickly overcame their fear and loved playing with the Bix tribe.

They were a little odd, but not dangerous.

So when children saw their new friends lying lifeless in the rain, the adults had to shield their eyes.

The scene was too cruel.

“It’s okay,” a local muttered. “Their brothers and sisters will return with their memories.”

But that didn’t ease their hearts. Because the kind Bix tribe member who had helped them… was now a pile of bones. That person wouldn’t be coming back.

Even if someone else with the same face did return—it wouldn’t be them.

“I just became friends with you…” someone whispered.

An elderly woman clutched her skirt. “That young man who helped me sort beans today… did he…”

Her eyesight wasn’t good. And it was raining hard outside.

A young girl quietly cried. She had fallen for one of the tall, handsome Bix tribe members. His sunny smile had brought her so much happiness.

But today, he had died.

The bloody battle continued until Sadin arrived. Kesso was captured. Of the few experts he brought, only two barely broke through the Bix tribe’s blockade, fleeing toward the direction of Balst while severely wounded.

After the battle, the players remained carefree—excitedly discussing their rewards.

But then they were surprised to see the townsfolk of Casey City, braving the downpour to step into the streets, carefully collecting the unvanished bones of the fallen.

They built a grave for the Bix tribe warriors who had died in battle.

Many children placed fresh flowers upon the new mound.

“…I don’t know why, but it feels weird,” one player said softly.

Yes—weird.

Why did the death of NPCs bring about such an unfamiliar, aching emotion?

Wasn’t this just a game?