As a mole lurking within the museum for the Chu family, Lu Xiaotian had imagined many scenarios of being exposed.
Among them were reconciliation, collusion, being skinned alive, and vanishing without a trace… Yet, Lu Xiaotian was certain that despite Lin Huai’s cursing, killing, and violent tendencies, he remained convinced that Lin Huai was fundamentally a kind-hearted person with a tough exterior. Even if his mole identity were revealed, Lin Huai would at most hurl a few harsh words and then forgive him with a smile.
However, he never expected… Lin Huai to pose such a question.
— Brother Lin, are you suggesting that our meeting was merely a calculated move?
At that moment, Lu Xiaotian felt as though he had glimpsed the soft heart behind Lin Huai’s ruthless mask, now questioning him. He shook his head repeatedly, saying, “Brother Lin, how could you think that? I’ve always been your loyal fan, I…”
He rambled on for a while, enthusiastically expressing his admiration for Lin Huai. Lin Huai watched him silently for a long time, his piercing gaze sending shivers down Lu Xiaotian’s spine.
“Alright,” Lin Huai said softly, “I believe you.”
Lu Xiaotian was overjoyed. “Brother Lin, we’re still friends, right?”
Lin Huai: “Get lost, you’re my grandson.”
After Sangui Ichi, the second character in this story, Lu Xiaotian, successfully earned his unique Japanese name—Amaiko Koteng. Amaiko Koteng, thrilled by Lin Huai’s forgiveness, sincerely felt he had mended a wounded heart. “Brother Lin, Brother Chu will be here in three days. What should we do in the museum until then? Huh, Brother Lin, where are you going?”
“The broadcast room,” the man in the purple suit said without turning back. “I’m going to enjoy my own exclusive fun time.”
His tone carried a mix of genuine excitement and something twisted.
Lu Xiaotian, who had just thought Lin Huai was sensitive and soft: …
When Lin Huai returned to the broadcast room, the slaughter was nearing its end. The once-grand hall was now drenched in blood, fresh and stale red flowing down the steps.
Standing in the center were the last sixteen survivors, all strong men without exception. One hooded figure cowered in the corner, seemingly afraid Lin Huai would notice him.
But Lin Huai showed no interest in him. As he entered, two men, bloodlust in their eyes, lunged at him without recognizing who he was. However, upon seeing the purple-clad demon, they screamed in terror and backed away.
“One, two, three… sixteen,” Lin Huai counted. “That’s enough.”
“One day later, I’ll release you from the museum,” Lin Huai casually tossed them a bag of food. The men eyed him warily, not daring to approach. He shrugged and sneered, “What are you afraid of? I already said I’d leave sixteen people. Since the outcome is decided, whoever remains, I won’t harm you… after all,”
“This is my promise to you,” he said with a smile.
The devil who had taken lives now spoke so kindly, leaving them in disbelief. Yet, they had no choice but to trust Lin Huai.
Eventually, they followed Lin Huai out of the broadcast room, one by one. Their destination was the VIP reception room at the far end of the museum, where they would spend the remaining three days.
Lu Xier trailed at the back, desperately hiding his face. He had completely lost his earlier bravado, now cowering like a frightened bird. However, as everyone entered the reception room, he felt a familiar breath by his ear. “Your luck is quite good.”
“Ahhh—”
Lu Xier screamed, but Lin Huai quickly covered his mouth and pinned him against the wall. “Shh— Do you want to attract everyone’s attention?”
“You, what are you…”
“I told you, I’m a man of my word. Since you’ve survived by your wits, I won’t trouble you. After all, this is my promise to you,” Lin Huai’s dark eyes bore into Lu Xier, who felt a chill run through his body.
With that, Lin Huai patted his shoulder. “Congratulations on surviving. I also wish you a brand-new life in three days.”
After delivering this brief message, he vanished into the corridor.
For the remaining sixteen, Lin Huai had no further plans. In the Greenhouse world, letting them live through this ordeal was far more painful than granting them a quick death. Moreover, he could see that their mental states were on the verge of collapse.
Because Lin Huai understood the Greenhouse so well, he was certain its officials would try to suppress the museum incident. These sixteen survivors, as living witnesses, would inevitably receive “proper handling.”
Of course, Lin Huai had no intention of letting them off. The events in the broadcast room, recorded by multiple cameras, had become several videos. After he left, parts of these videos would be leaked online through various channels. Physical pain was temporary, but once the videos were made public, Lu Xier and the others would face the horrifying, “lawful” retribution from their beloved Greenhouse.
At the same time, these sixteen individuals, being influential figures, would not go down without a fight. Their past experiences had also planted a significant amount of PTSD in their minds. These sixteen were like sixteen hidden bombs, released back into the Greenhouse. In the near future, they would bring more turmoil and blows to the system.
However, Lin Huai didn’t want to dwell on such long-term matters. Over the next three days, Zhao Jingtian, Lu Xiaotian, and other energetic players formed groups, diligently teaching potential criminals to exercise. Meanwhile, Lin Huai lay in the control room, watching his reputation value, now red to the point of black, and was quite satisfied to find himself the public enemy of the world.
With the help of “Mechanical Enemy,” the museum’s defense system was upgraded to perfection. The media, catching snippets of information, extensively reported on Lin Huai, portraying him as the public enemy everyone wanted to eliminate.
The entire Greenhouse was in an uproar. In the past two hundred years of peace, such a rebellious event had rarely occurred. Moreover, Lin Huai had garnered significant attention since his debut. “Number 81” became the focal point of the Greenhouse. His past videos, his life story, and the deliberately released footage of the museum massacre became the most-clicked content, far surpassing the Greenhouse idols who debuted around the same time.
In a way, Lin Huai had indeed become famous—infamous, household name famous. A video of him walking down the museum corridor toward the control room had the highest view count. In the video, he held an iron rod, his demeanor as elegant as a gentleman strolling through a garden. He smashed a glass display case and pulled out an ornamental engraved pistol. In his hands, even a piece of art became a weapon, yet his movements were natural, his actions graceful, and even his strikes seemed perfect and careless.
Many programs analyzed the Greenhouse residents’ almost twisted obsession and worship of Lin Huai. In the end, they reached a correct conclusion: the majority believed the museum incident would eventually blow over, and Lin Huai wouldn’t stir up any truly earth-shattering waves. Therefore, they could treat it as a casual entertainment event and engage with it in a lighthearted manner.
However, in stark contrast to the residents’ revelry, the officials were on high alert and took the matter very seriously. A day earlier, videos of Lin Huai’s slaughter in the broadcast room had been delivered to the officials’ office.
“A monster…”
The same thought crossed their minds as they watched the footage.
Under their orders, a large force was stationed outside the museum, ready to launch an assault at any moment. However, to everyone’s surprise, after the initial frenzy, Number 81 remained quietly inside the museum. Aside from releasing sixteen hostages on the second day, he was as calm as ever. He issued no declarations of war against the world, nor did he surrender or plead for mercy. The entire museum, protected by its shield, remained silent, indifferent to the outside world’s uproar.
But soon, they no longer had time to focus on the museum—because the southern sky had been breached by the rebels.
—These rebels, they’re really going to heaven!
The residents of the Greenhouse had almost forgotten this fact—above them lay another land, and the south was the closest point between the two layers. The news of the sky being breached exploded like a bomb in the Greenhouse, quickly becoming the hottest topic, even pushing Lin Huai’s story to second place. What left the higher-ups even more speechless was an audio clip sent back by an intelligence officer at the last moment:
“General, the rebels are breaking in, we need to retreat!”
“Don’t worry, it’s not the final moment yet.”
…
“If we don’t leave now, it’ll be too late!”
“Don’t be afraid, I’m here.”
…
“General, they’re right outside, should we commit suicide?”
“Don’t panic, nothing will happen.”
“Who gave you the confidence to be so sure?!”
“Because… the leader of the rebels is me.”
Thousands of kilometers away, across the broken radio waves, the higher-ups could still sense Qiao Qi’s utter despair. Sent to assist the general and help uncover the mole, he never expected that after all the investigations, the real mole was the general himself…
Not only that, but he was also the leader of both armies. This was…
This was downright ridiculous!
After arranging the rebels’ retreat, the rebellious Chu Tianshu personally took a spaceship and headed toward the museum.
The moment of reunion was near, yet Chu Tianshu’s mood was far from light. He seemed extremely restless, a strange sense of foreboding creeping up on him.
Along the way, he tried contacting Lin Huai, but received no response. Though he knew no one in this instance could harm Lin Huai, he couldn’t help but consider every possible scenario where Lin Huai might be hurt.
‘Feels like I’m missing something…’ he thought.
The pilot beside him, noticing Chu Tianshu’s unease, comforted him, “General, we’ll definitely bring your wife back.”
Chu Tianshu: “Huh?”
Pilot: “Screw those who stand in our way! Greenhouse! Crap!”
Chu Tianshu: …
After a long wait, he finally saw the Greenhouse Museum he had been anticipating. Standing amidst the army’s encirclement, it appeared helpless and pitiful. In that moment, the lonely building and the lonely Lin Huai in his heart seemed to merge.
Under the “Mechanical Enemy’s” control, the museum’s barrier gently accepted him. As the spaceship descended, he saw many people running toward him.
Among them was Lin Huai, who had emerged from the museum.
The moment Chu Tianshu entered the barrier, he saw Lin Huai in the control room through the cameras. He looked well, though pale, scrolling through social media, constantly checking Chu Tianshu’s news, appearing somewhat worried. Chu Tianshu thought he must be concerned for him.
Although Lin Huai had forgotten everything from the past, Chu Tianshu firmly believed they were still the best of friends, confidants, and brothers. A warm feeling of camaraderie welled up in his heart.
Thus, when he saw Lin Huai step out of the museum, unharmed, the Husky in Chu Tianshu’s heart started popping.
He completely abandoned the restraint of his persona, running toward Lin Huai with open arms, eager for a long-awaited embrace.
But just as they were about to hug, Lin Huai coldly extended a finger, pressing it against Chu Tianshu’s forehead.
Chu Tianshu froze mid-embrace: “What’s wrong, Lin Lin?”
In that moment, many possibilities of Lin Huai being angry crossed his mind, but what he finally heard was just one sentence.
“It was you,” Lin Huai said. “It was you who stole my top trending spot these past two days, wasn’t it?”
