Little Pink Starfish

After Fa Ning woke up, he remained in a dazed, zombie-like state. Sometimes he’d sit and wallow in poetic sorrow for no reason, other times he’d just hug his knees and stare at the sky… Honestly, it was too philosophical—so much so that the people around him could hardly bear to look anymore. They were on the verge of kicking him square in the face.

“Are you gonna fight or not?” someone next to him growled. “Can you be a little more manly? You’re the main character of a popular manga for crying out loud…”

“The way you said that made me feel kinda weird,” Fa Ning said as he stood up. “It’s like I’ve transmigrated into a story or something… And everyone around me keeps reminding me to hurry up and try harder, or else the manga won’t sell anymore…”

“Well yeah, that’s sort of getting the priorities backwards, but at this point, you need some kind of reason to get your act together.”

“I still want to talk to Yuan,” Fa Ning said. “Because… I’m not ready to give up.”

“If you really won’t give up,” the other person said, “then sure, go talk to him. But just know, while you two are talking, something will be happening outside.”

……

One had to admit, Yuan Yuanyuan and Fa Ning were really on the same wavelength.

Yuan Yuanyuan was secretly thinking the same thing—wondering if she could get Fa Ning to meet her alone. Because given the current situation, a private meeting between just the two of them might be the only way her plan could work.

At the final stages of the comic, Ji Qiu had shown off his incredible artistic skill. Sometimes Yuan Yuanyuan even wondered if Ji Qiu was actually a sentient calligraphy brush… That name—Ji Qiu—it had such a melancholic ring to it. Maybe he was the spirit of some failed scholar who coughed blood onto a brush, and after a hundred years, it turned into a demon. Sounded about right.

What Yuan Yuanyuan admired most about Ji Qiu was his use of color. These days, his palettes were getting gloomier and gloomier—honestly depressing. Just looking at them made her feel uneasy.

The comic’s depiction of the current situation in the demon realm showed demons cheering everywhere, yet the colors remained sorrowful.

Reading it, Yuan Yuanyuan couldn’t help but think of things from long ago—back when Yuan’s identity as a spy had just been revealed. Back then, readers were excited beyond belief. Yuan’s popularity had soared to its peak. Meanwhile in real life, everyone was cursing him, even when she went out to buy wine she’d hear people swearing at “Yuan.”

Now, outside, the demons were rejoicing, but in the comic everything felt steeped in melancholy. Was this really the same world? No wonder she sometimes felt like she’d transmigrated.

Or perhaps it was just that the outsider sees clearly, while the one in the game is confused. The comic was told from a god’s-eye view, from the perspective of righteousness and justice. But in reality, everyone acted according to their own interests. The demons were already going mad over the prospect of gain. What was justice, compared to a “bright future” that seemed right within reach?

Lately, Yuan Yuanyuan had been dreaming of war night after night. They say you dream about what you dwell on during the day, and each night she was jolted awake by nightmares—scenes of fire and blood that lingered at the edge of her senses, the stench of gore still hanging in her nose when she sat up in bed.

It was like hell on earth… She didn’t even know how her brain could conjure such realistic horrors. It felt like she’d actually witnessed them before.

She was starting to admire her own imagination. The level of realism in those dreams was unreal. Maybe she was gifted after all.

These days, just listening to the demons around her urging for war made her liver hurt. She wanted to invite them into her dreamscape for a little tour.

Come on, folks~ Step right up and take a spin~

They’d be totally cured afterward—refreshed, with smooth circulation, really.

If a war broke out between humans and demons, the consequences would be far more horrific than any human-on-human conflict. The reason was simple—human wars generally avoided home soil. But not with demons. Their battles would be fought in human cities.

Given how humans and demons were already living side by side, the carnage could be worse than a century ago.

The treaty signed after the last war had explicitly forbidden demons from appearing before humans. That was why Yuan Yuanyuan used to hide in apartment buildings when chased—because demons wouldn’t dare barge into human residences. If they did, a divine lightning bolt would strike them down on the spot.

But what if that rule was revoked?

Plenty of demons would charge into human homes at night, dragging sleeping humans out of bed, drinking their blood, snapping their necks… Human blood was tempting to demons.

Overnight, it would make a zombie apocalypse look tame. At least zombies could be beaten back with iron bars. But demons?

They were like wolves. Would they show mercy?

Sure, there were still some limits. Demons couldn’t kill everyone. Eventually, humans would rally under Daoist leadership and form resistance alliances… But before any of that happened, a large portion of the population would die.

Just from a tactical perspective—if we’re talking about urban warfare, humans were at a disadvantage. Even if humans had advanced weapons, those tools would fail in areas dense with demonic energy. Communications systems would glitch like wet paper. Guns might jam. Signals would cut out.

As for high-impact explosives—they could only be used in cities. Because that’s where the demons were. That’s where people lived. If someone really wanted a mutual destruction scenario…

And information was everything in war.

This was Seventeen’s old specialty. The Daoists had managed to develop communication tools immune to demonic interference—but those were only viable on a small scale. Wide usage was still unrealistic. Maintaining them required manpower.

…So was this war going to come down to a battle between communication systems?

Yuan Yuanyuan thought about this for a long time. Subconsciously, she realized: communication was vital. Maybe it’d be better to sabotage the enemy’s formations first—cut off their messages. Nowadays, even just losing internet for a day could send people into meltdown.

And demon energy could mess with electricity. If you knocked out power and cut the internet…

Wait a second.

Yuan Yuanyuan suddenly became alert.

Was it just her imagination, or… did she actually have a real talent for this?

Why was she so naturally inclined to think of ways to wipe out humanity?

…Think of something else. Anything else.

But no matter how hard she tried to redirect her thoughts, her mind kept circling back. It was like there was a sand table laid out in her brain, simulating what would happen if war between humans and demons actually broke out in the coming years.

This was ridiculous. She really did love her work.

Still, one thing was certain: if war truly erupted, at least half of humanity would be wiped out. And now, ironically, was the easiest time for humans to survive in history. When else had things been so stable?

Sometimes Yuan Yuanyuan thought this era was what was unnatural—and those times full of sorrow and screams were the real human normal.

A dreamlike paradise.

She thought through everything and realized—she still couldn’t bring herself to help the demons start a war.

Somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, she had considered it. After all, half of her blood was demon.

But the aftermath… it would be too horrific.

There would probably be a war eventually, but she didn’t want it to begin at her hands. She didn’t want to be that sinner.

She just wanted to buy a tiny, shabby house. After everything ended, she’d quietly do part-time jobs, earn a bit of cash, buy a soda every day, eat instant noodles, and that would be enough.

Yuan Yuanyuan set aside the tangled thoughts in her head. This wasn’t really a matter of right or wrong—it was just a choice. A fork in the road. Once you walked down one path, you got further and further from the other.

After today, no one would know what she had been thinking—not even Ji Qiu would draw it. Comics only ever showed the hero’s most dazzling moments. Before making that heroic move, how long they struggled, what doubts they had… shounen manga would never show that. Because if they did, sales would drop. People only wanted to see cool poses.

Ah… Why did shounen manga suddenly feel kind of cruel?

Still, Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t want humanity to win too easily. She wanted to earn more bargaining chips for the demons.

At the very least, she wanted humans to see that demons weren’t to be trifled with. If the demons could scare them just enough, maybe they’d start treating them with more respect. Maybe they wouldn’t have to be so miserable anymore…

Maybe, occasionally popping up in front of humans and leaving behind an urban legend or two could even be fun. Wouldn’t the world be more interesting that way?

So what should the first step be?

Yuan Yuanyuan remembered that idea she’d had earlier—communication tools.
That was definitely an intriguing angle.

What would happen if humans suddenly lost electricity? If they couldn’t use the internet? What kind of chaos would follow?

It seemed like… the humans hadn’t really caught on to this yet.

Yuan Yuanyuan lowered her head and looked over the map.
She marked a circle on it—then summoned a few demons over.