Little Pink Starfish

The One in Red

Lately, there were so many comments online praising the woman in red that Yuan Yuanyuan almost forgot she was, well, a pitiful nobody.

But reality quickly brought her back to her senses. After all, the one being adored online was the woman in red—not Yuan… even though they were technically the same person. Still, to others, they were completely different.

Sure, it felt good to secretly bask in the glory, but if you kept it to yourself for too long with no one else knowing… what was the point? It would stifle you to death.

That was how Yuan Yuanyuan had been feeling—stifled. And when she felt that way, she wanted to let loose. Her version of “letting loose” was relatively tame: she kept running errands for the Prop Organization, accepting task after task.

As the new “big shot” of the anti-war faction, she figured she should at least be useful to the organization. So recently, she began collecting the names of monsters within the Prop Organization. Some names she found in files, others she recorded by their features and asked the boss lady about later. Before long, she had a pretty good sense of who was who.

At the same time, she was also trying to deduce the Prop Organization’s next moves based on the missions she was receiving.

Lately, they had been trying to connect with the Southern Sect. Yuan Yuanyuan had heard of them a long time ago. Supposedly, they didn’t get along with Seventeen. A black-robed man back in City C—one who had treated her rather decently—had told her about them.

Apparently, the Southern Sect had a giant snake demon. She hadn’t met him yet, but when she heard “snake demon,” she instantly imagined a white-haired, green-eyed, absurdly handsome guy. Then she remembered—oh right, he was the boss.

Bosses… probably aren’t all that good-looking.

That thought alone made her feel like life had no meaning.

She asked the boss lady, “What’s the Southern Sect like?”
“One word,” the boss lady said. “Wild.”

…Yuan Yuanyuan thought, That’s a badass word.

The boss lady went on to explain that the Southern Sect might agree to ally or might stay neutral—no one could say for sure. After all, they’d always been a bit nuts.

But now that they knew the other side was contacting the Southern Sect, their own side needed to start preparing. The boss lady said that if they wanted the upper hand, they had to reach out too.

Yuan Yuanyuan felt like she was finally being of some use. Though a newbie spy, she wasn’t entirely useless.

Three days later, the boss lady told her the arrangements had been made. Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly felt like the boss lady was a really capable wife—er, no, that wasn’t the right way to put it.

So they waited at the tavern for news and organized a meeting while they were at it.

These meetings were always a bit surreal. Back when Yuan Yuanyuan was just a regular waitress, she never realized how much was going on under the surface. The organization seemed lazy, but with the clever use of monster spells and the tavern’s layout, no one from the outside ever noticed anything. Regular patrons and organization members coexisted seamlessly.

The tavern held regular meetings for anti-war members. Generally speaking, it was rare for situations like that last time—when a black-clad bodyguard suddenly burst in and knocked people out to drag them away for brainwashing. That had only happened because Yuan Yuanyuan had shown up so abruptly. When she learned about it afterward, she actually felt a little bad.

The boss lady, though, didn’t seem to mind. If anything… she looked more excited. Yuan Yuanyuan figured Seventeen was probably the type who loved stirring up chaos, and the boss lady was like a magnet drawn to that kind of energy.

Yuan Yuanyuan was sitting in an upstairs loft overlooking the gathering. Below was where the meeting was taking place—right in those “off-limits” rooms she hadn’t been able to enter before. Still, things weren’t quite what she’d imagined. The rooms themselves were just entrances. Without a guide or knowledge of the paths inside, one could easily get caught by the traps or illusions—very secure. Even if someone opened those two doors, they wouldn’t suspect anything.

But the real meeting chamber? Yuan Yuanyuan still didn’t know where it was.

It reminded her of the Prop Organization’s “egg” strategy—everyone doing their own thing in unpredictable ways.

Now, she sat upright and proper. She couldn’t be as casual as she’d been on day one—lounging lazily, which would come off as disrespectful. Honestly, she still felt a bit uncomfortable playing the part.

Below, the members chatted about recent news and discussed plans. Drinks were served, and some members would raise their cups toward Yuan Yuanyuan upstairs before drinking. She always returned the gesture with a sip of her own.

The atmosphere was lively. Lanterns glowed, drinks flowed. Yuan Yuanyuan wondered if she was even at a formal meeting at all.

…Everyone was way too relaxed.

She kept a proper posture, even sitting with her butt on her heels in a kneeling position—because she had to maintain that lady-like image.

She had a few drinks, sipping alone, since she was the only one up there. Then, suddenly, someone came running up the stairs and stopped just in front of the curtain, dropping into a half-kneel.

“My lady, I have something to report.”

Yuan Yuanyuan’s first thought: Damn, that’s hot. Straight out of a drama.

She looked at the kneeling monster. The chatter below gradually stopped as everyone looked up.

“What is it?” Yuan Yuanyuan asked in a softened tone. She even used Yuan’s real voice—just a bit sharper, giving her a hoarse, womanly sound.

“I want to say…” the male monster barely started speaking when he suddenly pulled out a dagger and ripped open the curtain, lunging straight at her. When he saw her face, his pupils immediately dilated.

In that moment, Yuan Yuanyuan could almost hear the chaos inside his head: What the hell? Nani?! What’s going on??

Clearly, he’d come to assassinate her. Which meant he was from the enemy side—and in his mind, Yuan was already “one of them.” So discovering that “one of them” was actually the anti-war leader… well, that was a mental bombshell.

It was almost funny, but Yuan Yuanyuan had no intention of letting anyone else find out her identity.

She was always armed. She swiftly drew her blade—her movements elegant, almost like a lady caressing a lover’s cheek, soft and fluid.

Her strike was like a swallow in flight—quick and clean. The assassin died with a shocked expression still frozen on his face, collapsing in the same posture he lunged in.

Yuan Yuanyuan quietly picked up a white cloth and wiped her blade. There was a faint streak of blood on it. The man hadn’t bled much—just a single red line across his neck, like a tattoo.

The hall remained silent. The entire incident had happened so quickly, no one had time to react. It didn’t feel appropriate to make noise afterward, either.

Soon, black-clad bodyguards arrived and removed the corpse. Yuan Yuanyuan cleaned her blade and sheathed it, sitting back down in the same formal kneeling position, hands resting on her knees.

The curtain was drawn again. Yuan Yuanyuan stood, bowed toward the crowd below, and offered her apology for disturbing the meeting. She had only meant to nod, but realized she had to act ladylike—so she bowed instead.

Later, she thought to herself: pretending to be a lady while actually being one was more exhausting than being a real one. Kind of a tongue-twister, but true.

The crowd remained quiet for a while longer, but eventually, the mood picked up again. It was as if nothing had happened. No one even brought it up.

Some time later, someone Yuan Yuanyuan knew from the tavern quietly approached and whispered in her ear, “We found out. He was from the Prop Organization.”

Yuan Yuanyuan replied softly, “Oh.” And the person disappeared as silently as they came.

The gathering continued through the night. By dawn, Yuan Yuanyuan finally staggered out of the tavern. After an all-nighter, she was exhausted.

All she wanted was to go home and pet a cat. Even if Fat Cat wasn’t a real cat, he might as well be… no, wait, he was a real cat.

When she got home, she saw Fat Cat—for once—had taken human form and was sitting on the couch reading manga. Yuan Yuanyuan paused, disappointed that there was no cat to pet. Then she began plotting how to trick him into turning back into a cat.

“What are you reading?” she asked.

“This comic…” Fat Cat said. “I don’t know why, but the more I read about this red-clothed woman, the more she feels familiar… She’s gorgeous. The more I look, the better she looks. What’s going on? Are female cats no longer attractive to me?”

Yuan Yuanyuan nearly spat out her drink. Wow, she thought, This is peak fanboy behavior. Even after I cosplay as a lady boss, you still say I feel familiar to you.

She looked at Fat Cat’s confused face and shook her head.

Better not tell him the terrifying truth.