Little Pink Starfish

Double agent Yuan Yuanyuan was in an exceptionally good mood today.

Wherever she walked, she felt like she was radiating pure villain energy—like she’d leveled up to final boss status, ready to make everyone kneel with her overwhelming aura.

But were any of these things actually her doing? Of course not. Most of it left her completely baffled, yet somehow her reputation just kept skyrocketing on its own.

Last week saw one of the biggest events yet—yep, the day she sat in that café. That very scene made it into Demon Chronicle, and after the incident was investigated, it turned out to be the work of a group of radical demons. They’d used Yuan’s name as their banner, but none of them had any idea where Yuan actually was.

Then the comic dropped—people realized Yuan had been sitting right next door in a café, sipping his coffee. The big boss energy was unreal.

Comments poured in:
“Damn, Yuan’s too chill. Who can even compete with that?”

Naturally, her conversation with that demon across the table got attention too. To average readers who didn’t know Yuan’s backstory, the whole thing seemed cryptic—like they were speaking in riddles. But those who did know, immediately recognized allusions to Yuan’s former ideals.

So the theory went: was this all a result of psychological trauma from his time in the Red Sand Well? Had he emerged… changed?

After all, most villains do have a tragic backstory. These days, “revenge against society” types were rare—most major villains had suffered deeply, and the more miserable the past, the more terrifying the payback. So adding Yuan to that list didn’t surprise anyone.

Yuan Yuanyuan thought their speculation was… honestly kind of reasonable. In fact, she suspected Ji Qiu had deliberately set it up that way. If she hadn’t been present for everything firsthand, even she might’ve bought into it.

It wasn’t that people lacked imagination—it was that no one dared imagine things would go this far. No one expected Ji Qiu to be this bold, or Yuan to play along so flawlessly.

At this point, if Ji Qiu wanted her cooperation, Yuan Yuanyuan was more than happy to go along. Besides the satisfaction of playing dumb and crushing expectations, she was starting to feel a bit of righteous conviction about it too.

There wasn’t much point in explaining that. These days, the demon she met in that café kept turning up during her evening walks. They’d occasionally chat, and every time he tried to convince “Yuan” to give up whatever dark schemes he thought were brewing. Yuan Yuanyuan would always respond with a half-hearted “Oh, sure, noted” before going right back to watching how Ji Qiu planned to write the next scene.

As the saying goes—every Demon King needs a hero on the other side. The Demon King’s been ready. Where’s the hero?

Yuan Yuanyuan noticed that recently, Fan Ning—the comic’s protagonist—had entered his “rapid growth arc.” Just like all shounen manga heroes, there comes a phase of intense leveling up. Whether it’s Luffy’s two-year training or Naruto’s time on Mount Myoboku, this was Fan Ning’s turning point.

He was desperately learning the demon technique left behind by Seventeen and, through sheer trial and error—plus repeatedly stabbing his own hand (?!), managed to halfway master it.

By that point, Fan Ning had undergone a complete transformation. The kind that would normally kill an ordinary Taoist.

Seventeen was… twisted. Both the Blood Jade technique and the Taoist one he left behind were brutal, self-harming demon arts. This guy seriously wrote techniques like that? Was he into it or something? Every time Yuan Yuanyuan started to wonder, she had to physically shake her head to drive the thought away. Too damn scary.

Because of his Taoist disguise, Fan Ning could even sneak into demon circles to gather intel. Yuan Yuanyuan would bet at least 30% of the human side’s info in the comic was revealed through Fan Ning’s perspective.

Fat Cat once grumbled to her that Fan Ning felt like a little spy for the Taoists—and the more Yuan Yuanyuan thought about it, the more right that sounded.

Even though no one knew Fan Ning’s true identity yet, he was clearly feeding valuable info back to the Taoists.

Which made Yuan Yuanyuan wonder… Could you ship Yuan and Fan Ning? A spy x villain ship? Enemies to lovers? And since Fan Ning was studying Seventeen’s teachings… maybe they could even do a master/disciple AU.

As soon as she entertained that thought, she felt a wave of nausea. She muttered ptui ptui ptui and reminded herself, I’m loyal to Red Coat. No one’s allowed to break that ship!

Speaking of Red Coat—where the hell was that handsome little guy lately? He’d disappeared from the story.

Meanwhile, Yuan Yuanyuan was getting flamed online every day. People cursed her left and right, and she honestly kind of enjoyed it now. Every time someone ran into her transformed into “Yuan,” she’d get insulted—pure catharsis. She’d just laugh and think, Wait for it… I’ll rub your faces in it later. Heh heh heh. Real “A-Q spirit” energy.

She actually enjoyed lurking on the fanfiction site these days. Most canon fans hated overly out-of-character fanfics, but Yuan Yuanyuan was absolutely the exception.

She even dabbled in writing. She’d piece together stories based on bits of info she’d learned—most fanfic authors were casual fans with very limited knowledge, so their works were overly romanticized. She tried to subtly add authentic Seventeen backstories and drop one-shots now and then.

Without fail, her posts would get flooded with comments.

【OMG I’m sobbing! Why won’t you write a full-length fic? I’m DYING to ship them!!】
【Me too! I love this version of Yuan—so tsundere and adorable! Also hot as hell!!】
【I love calling him ‘old man’ lol. Seventeen’s character is sooo delicious!】

Yuan Yuanyuan giggled for a good while—until she saw the phrase “old man” and her smile froze.

To be fair, the forum only had a few hundred members. Very few people were posting content. So she and Fat Cat—both hardcore Seventeen stans—had rolled up their sleeves and joined the cause.

The nickname “old man” actually came from Fat Cat, who—as a fanboy—seemed to inexplicably love calling him that.

【I’m obsessed with Yuan’s character. But you guys don’t get it. The beauty of this character doesn’t lie in canon—it’s in the headcanon. If you imagine him as a tsundere, then every scene becomes peak romance.】

Yuan Yuanyuan frowned at that. Weren’t we talking about Seventeen? When did this become about Yuan again? Oh, wait… right. To most people now, Seventeen was Yuan.

She scrolled down. This user was clearly a member of the “Tsundere Yuan Faction.” Lots of people in the forum interpreted Yuan’s behavior through this lens—reframing it all as emotional repression to heighten their shipping experience.

This particular girl was analyzing his café scene:

【If we follow this interpretation… doesn’t it mean he was hiding the truth to protect the plan?】
【Ugh! Yuan’s so pitiful. He can’t say anything—just has to suffer in silence. Don’t worry! We’re here for you!】
【Ugh that nagging demon guy was so annoying.】

Yes. Yes, he was. Yuan Yuanyuan replied quietly:

【“Annoying” doesn’t even begin to cover it. I wanted to pin him to the ground and grind his face in.】

That was exactly what she’d been thinking the last time she ran into that demon. You’re a human-sympathizing traitor. So am I. The only difference is you get to act all noble about it while I take the heat. And you STILL won’t leave me alone?

She really hated that guy.

【OMG I want Yuan to beat him down and face-slap him! Wait wait—no, Yuan’s a tsundere. He’s got too much burden to show off. So maybe a subtle slap instead—so we all know he’s still a noble, dignified old man!】

Old man… Could we please switch that to good man? No—good demon.

Yuan Yuanyuan shut her laptop. But honestly? It was a pretty good idea. She could use the forum as a way to throw shade at that guy. That way she’d satisfy the fangirls and vent some frustration too.

So she rolled up her sleeves again.

That night, she went for her walk. As expected, she ran into him. She walked right up to him, already thinking about how to deliver her lines “indirectly.”

Hmm… is this considered meta manipulation?

That thought made her feel a little guilty. Like she was cheating.

“Yuan. We meet again.” The man smiled at her. But his expression was grim, and there was a hint of gloom in his eyes. “Lately, members of that Mask Organization have been spreading rumors. They say they’ve got top-tier illusionists in their ranks. That if you join them, you’ll learn the most powerful illusion arts. Does this have anything to do with you?”

“No,” Yuan Yuanyuan said, head lowered.

She felt like if she looked up, she’d blow her cover—she’d never really acted before, after all.

“No one’s moved against you yet because there’s no solid proof,” the man continued. “But their group includes elite illusionists, fire demons, water demons—every kind of power you can think of. What are you gathering them for?”

To start a war, obviously. Fat Cat had taught her that much. The organization’s strategy was to gather one elite from every field to create an unstoppable, all-terrain unit. The idea was that lesser demons would naturally follow stronger ones. And the leader—a powerful general-type demon—would command it all.

She suspected she’d originally been marked to be the “illusionist general,” but was skipped… until things spiraled out of control, and they decided they needed a seasoned pro. So they dragged her in. Seventeen had, after all, been a general before.

She needed to tread carefully now. No doubt they had more traps waiting for her.

Yuan Yuanyuan looked him in the eye. “You’re drawing too much attention lately. Everyone’s got their eyes on you.”

“So what?” the man replied. “I’ve killed them all.”

“You’re strong,” Yuan Yuanyuan said. “But dumb as a brick.”

His eyes widened. He looked genuinely offended.

“Open attacks are easy to dodge. It’s the hidden daggers you should fear,” Yuan Yuanyuan added. “If you don’t understand that, you’ll always be the first to die. I hope I live to see it happen—because of your own stupidity.”

Then she turned and walked off. Feeling great.

No no—she wasn’t happy because she got to curse him out. Not at all.

She was just fulfilling her role as a tsundere, secretly warning him to be careful. Her intentions were noble. The heavens could testify to that.

I wonder if Ji Qiu will keep this scene…

A week later, she opened the latest comic—and screamed.

There it was. The very moment she’d insulted the guy. Drawn in loving detail.

They hadn’t run into each other since. Yuan Yuanyuan figured even the thickest-skinned demon couldn’t handle being called an idiot. Especially one who was used to being idolized.

Then she logged into the forum and saw the comments:

【OMG! Yuan in this update was sooo cool! I’m crying from happiness… did the forum gods hear our prayers??】
【He really risked himself just to warn that guy… but it was so subtle. Will that guy even get it?】
【Nope. He’ll just think Yuan’s rude. He won’t get the true meaning.】
【Actually, even though Yuan’s words were harsh, he really was trying to protect him… He’s too high-profile lately. In comics, high-profile characters always die. I hope he can break the death flag.】
【Yuan my beloved!! You’re so tragic! I wish you could just say what you feel!】
【My god… even my mom’s falling for this propaganda… what kind of forum is this?!】

Yuan Yuanyuan read the thread and burst out laughing.

Seriously? This works? THIS ACTUALLY WORKS?

She’d just wanted to cuss out her stalker. …Wait, no, no—don’t say that out loud. That’d get her killed.

She flopped back in her chair. All the angry human-side backlash lately didn’t even bother her anymore.

It was like… some magical healing power had washed over her.

If she had to sum it up in one sentence:

Yuan Yuanyuan thought to herself—“I love this website.”

It made her feel like she could raise hell.