Little Pink Starfish

The previous issue had just depicted Yuan falling from the sky into a river. This latest issue immediately explained why Yuan had been so weak. With only a two-day gap between the two chapters, many humans and demons alike found themselves completely unable to “spin” or speculate on what happened.

Previously, many people had wondered how Yuan ever managed to escape from the Red Sand Well, but very few knew he had been seriously injured. Even within the Mask Organization, this was a tightly kept secret—only a few high-ranking minor demons knew; the rest had no clue.

So when the new chapter revealed this, it genuinely shocked a large number of readers.

Of course, there was a small group who weren’t that surprised—some even seemed to have mentally prepared for it. As they read the dialogue between Fan Ning and a human leader, they found a lot of important clues embedded within.

[Fan Ning was staring curiously at the rushing stream below. In his heart, a question had lingered for a while.]

[That day, Yuan’s condition had clearly been off. As someone who had fought him directly, Fan Ning could easily tell something wasn’t right. But even now, he still hadn’t figured out what had really happened.]

[“Back when Yuan first appeared,” the old man said, “we all found something odd. How did he get out of the Red Sand Well…? The Red Sand Well isn’t something one escapes from easily. As far as we know, Yuan is the only one who ever got out. And when he reappeared, he seemed so strong that we never really questioned it. Some even thought the one who went in wasn’t Yuan at all, but another demon.”]

[“And then?” Fan Ning already had an inkling of where this was going.]

[“Later, we made contact with him in private,” the old man stroked his beard. “We even took him back to the Red Sand Well to test his reaction, but we didn’t find anything unusual.”]

[“He was a spy,” the old man sighed. “We never expected to get anything out of him anyway. But even the greatest spy can’t hold on forever. Turns out it really was him who went into the Well—and he was gravely injured inside. We don’t know how he held on all this time, but it looks like he’s finally reached his limit.”]

[Fan Ning looked down at the torrent beneath him. After the heavy rain a few days ago, the river had grown even fiercer.]

[“Even though we haven’t found his body, I think it’s safe to say he didn’t make it,” the old man let out a heavy breath. “At least now we can rest a little easier.”]

[“Then why did he still join the Mask Organization at a time like that?” Fan Ning suddenly asked. He truly couldn’t understand. If Yuan was so seriously injured, why pretend to be fine and join the organization?]

[“Maybe it was for the sake of the demons,” the old man—who had never spoken kindly of Yuan before—couldn’t help but sigh.]

[“Back then, Yuan was a general in the Blood Jade Demon Army,” he said. “He was proud and unwilling to give up, but due to some circumstances, he ended up in the Red Sand Well. And now, even after coming back, he returned to his old path. Different circumstances call for different decisions. If you were in his position, maybe you’d understand.”]

[This was the first—and possibly the last—time the old man ever spoke up for Yuan. Fan Ning sensed something deeper in those words and silently made a note to investigate later. The two of them walked along the riverbank again, but still found nothing, and eventually had to return.]

The next part of the comic showed Fan Ning’s powers improving and the old man giving him some heartfelt advice—irrelevant to Yuan for now. But the preceding dialogue had already made one thing very clear to readers:

Yuan had been injured all along.

The comments section exploded. Some people were shocked at how casually Yuan had been “written off,” with none of the grandeur one would expect from a big boss character. Others were stunned that his current world-shaking strength had been him in a weakened state—how powerful had he been at his peak?

“No way—Yuan got written out just like that? Where is he? Damn, this is even more brutal than Neji’s death!”
“Jiuqiu, you bastard! Did you run out of ideas and start winging it? Want some knife mail? We Yuan fans may be few, but we exist!”

Following the past two issues, the Yuan fans—who had always lurked in the shadows like good spies—finally began to surface…

Still, most believed this was just a disappearance arc, not a death arc.

“Yuan can’t possibly be dead. This is just ambiguous storytelling—textbook stuff.”
“Exactly! The big bad of the villains hasn’t even shown up yet. No way they’d kill Yuan off this early. The main character hasn’t even reached full power.”
“To those saying he’s toast… Look, just take Orochimaru as a reference. Dude dies, then comes back—easy.”

Online, no one really believed Yuan was dead. Everyone figured that if this manga still wanted to sell and survive, it wouldn’t go as far as cutting off its own arm.

Besides… maybe they’d shelve him for now, then bring him back later when the plot needed a twist. Resurrect the big boss—perfect drama.

But among the true insiders and participants in this world, optimism was scarce. Deep down, they believed—this time, Yuan was really dead.

If he had been injured all along, then suddenly dying now wasn’t at all surprising.

Only something like this could fully pull readers out of the fantasy of the manga and force them to confront the cold, hard reality.

This event served as a wake-up call to everyone involved—Jiuqiu wasn’t writing a conventional manga.
In this world, everything followed the logic of reality.

Even if, according to storytelling convention, things could have gone differently—in real life, death is death.

The blow to readers was immense. Demons took it relatively well. But on the human side, people had been reading along in real time, and many jokes and memes had started circulating to cope. But lately, even the memes had dried up. It just didn’t feel funny anymore.

Attention toward the manga started to wane. Some believed that future chapters might fall apart—not because the artist lacked skill, but because they insisted on depicting the “real” world. And reality is always duller than imagination.

With Yuan’s death, multiple narrative threads were severed. Large chunks of future plot had nowhere to go. It was like the story had been castrated. It simply couldn’t be as compelling as before.

But none of the insiders would be stupid enough to talk about this online. In fact, it wasn’t even something that could reach the internet. Everyone knew, and quietly shifted their attention to whatever came next—putting the manga aside for now.

After all… now that Yuan was dead, maybe for them, it was actually a relief.

…

On the first Sunday of September, Demon Notes resumed its regular serialization. By now, Tang Shi and the others were getting ready for school.

To Tang Shi, everything that had happened recently didn’t really affect her directly. Even if it did—what could she do about it? She was just a student.

So lately, she had been pretty chill, not really feeling stressed. She sat on the train to her destination. Outside of the Spring Festival, this line only had one nighttime train. So she could only catch this issue of the manga while on board.

The signal on the train was awful. Even chatting with friends took ages. Reading manga was practically impossible.

[Tang Shi, you there?]

[Yeah? What’s up?] Tang Shi munched on the apple she’d brought. The train lights went out early—by 9:30, it was already dark. Only a few faint glimmers remained in the pitch-black cabin.

Tang Shi scrolled through previous messages.

[You won’t believe this issue of Demon Notes… I think Yuan is really done for.]
[Oh come on, Jiuqiu can draw however he wants. Why are you stressing for him?]
[Still, I’m calling it now—this comic is going to fall apart. There’s no way Jiuqiu can keep it going. Yuan’s gone—he just killed off a huge chunk of the plot.]

Then came the latest message:

[…Yeah, I think Yuan’s dead for real. But that doesn’t mean Jiuqiu can’t keep drawing.]

Huh? What does that mean? Tang Shi frowned, puzzled, and finally managed to load the new chapter.

On the screen was Yuan—the supposedly dead character—still wearing his signature black clothes, looking just as he always had. But now, seeing him felt… off.

Tang Shi flipped through the manga. The first scene was like a silhouette: a black night, a dim streetlamp, and a familiar but blurry side profile. He stood quietly on the street, head slightly bowed.

It wasn’t clear where he was. The surroundings were vague. A bench was barely visible.

[“I really don’t want anyone dying with me.”]

Huh? Tang Shi snapped her head up and flipped back a few pages. Had she missed something?

Was that… something Yuan would say?

When did he say that? Before he fell into the river?

Tang Shi checked again—she hadn’t missed anything. But this sudden scene felt oddly disconnected from the rest of the chapter.

Someone who says something like that…

Didn’t seem like a boss.
He sounded more like one of those tragic side characters.