Late that night, Yu Haiqing left the reception and rubbed his brow as he sat in the car back to his place, unable to conceal the fatigue on his face. But his mind drifted back to that matter.

The new secretary, Rena, was much more professional than the previous two. The HR department had put considerable effort into recruiting her from outside. She was efficient, silent, and never indulged in superfluous thoughts or words. Casually, she took a discreet glance at Mr. Yu in the backseat and, with keen awareness, stayed quiet.

Before taking this job, she had always heard people say that Yu Haiqing from Endless Sea was a workaholic with an exceptionally rigorous and impersonal demeanor. Some even joked he might have replaced half his brain with the intelligent engine he developed—basically like an AI. That was why she initially declined the recruitment offer, but in the end, Endless Sea’s offer was too tempting.

After joining, however, she realized that he wasn’t the harsh boss people painted him to be. If anything, he was quite tolerant, only holding himself to high standards. The talk about him being like an AI was just because his exhaustion was hard to notice.

Take tonight’s event as an example.

The reception was more than a glamorous gathering of fine clothes and wine. The so-called partners at the table were all difficult characters. As an experienced secretary who had seen her share of turbulent business circles with her former boss, even she felt mentally drained by the hidden tensions and smiles concealing sharp edges tonight. The atmosphere left her on edge, and by the end, she felt nearly depleted. But Yu Haiqing, by contrast, looked like he was taking it all in stride.

He aimed to acquire a greater share in Lin Jiao Live, intending to shift from the second-largest investor to the actual controlling shareholder. This deal was tangled up with several small studios, each with its own web of relationships, requiring him to navigate many connections.

The so-called “partners” were all seasoned veterans of the industry, viewing Endless Sea as a ripe prize. Despite being an upstart who built everything from scratch, they regarded Yu Haiqing with thinly veiled arrogance. Over time, he’d ground down their defenses, forcing them to relent, albeit begrudgingly.

Reportedly, their attitudes were much better than before tonight. She could barely imagine how challenging it must have been for Mr. Yu when the discussions began.

Success rarely comes easily for anyone.

Exhausted in the front passenger seat, Rena could hardly move, while Yu Haiqing simply closed his eyes briefly. Once the car started, he reached for the control panel in the back and put on the specially installed portable holographic equipment.

Rena couldn’t see what was playing on the hologram, but she could observe Mr. Yu’s hand motions on the controller. Judging from the duration, it was likely the newly released interactive video from Gods and Demons.

When he finished watching, he frowned as if contemplating something unclear. He replayed the video again.

Recently, his interests extended beyond just marketing battles in the gaming industry. At the reception, those stubborn veterans had remarkably up-to-date information. Tonight, they only let go because they’d gotten wind of confirmed progress on the SEA Chip breakthrough. This was faster than Yu Haiqing expected.

Besides the surprising speed at which they relented, even the release rate for the game department’s latest Gods and Demons update was unexpected; he’d anticipated it would take at least another ten days to reach this level of external presentation.

He didn’t care much for all the noisy hype, but the unforeseen momentum was pushing his acquisition forward more smoothly.

Did Gou Yuan go all in on this one?

With that question in mind, he watched the promotional video stirring up quite a bit of buzz in the industry, curious about what had caught the old hands’ attention.

And there it was—Xie Shuangxue, that NPC, again?

Yu Haiqing had noticed this character before but hadn’t looked into it too deeply. Yet today, watching this video, Xie Shuangxue reminded him of the so-called “illusion” he encountered in the testing space.

That sly smile…was that him?

He watched several times, sensing there was indeed something unusual about this NPC. Maybe it wasn’t an illusion after all.

But as a tech professional, he was inclined to trust the data. Everything was normal with SEA’s metrics, and, according to Gou Yuan’s reports, all updates were loading smoothly without triggering any security alerts. Nothing seemed out of order.

Even after he got home, Yu Haiqing still hadn’t resolved the question in his mind.

He sat in the living room for a while, frowning, absently loosening his tie. Then he turned toward his study, where he found a box on the second shelf.

Inside was a new holographic helmet co-branded by Endless Sea and the industry’s leading holographic technology company. It was designed to work seamlessly with Gods and Demons and could also log into other intelligent holographic platforms. In terms of peripheral equipment, this was top-notch.

He’d received it months ago but had only just decided to open it now.

Oddly enough, while he aimed to expand the holographic ecosystem, he usually used only portable glasses, which prioritized convenience over immersive experience. It had been a long time since he logged into Gods and Demons.

It wasn’t just his game—there were simply too many things to handle, leaving no time to stop.

Previously, he hadn’t thought much of it. After all, his priorities had shifted. But with the recent SEA Chip upgrade and the puzzling encounter with this NPC, he was beginning to see things differently.

Gods and Demons was increasingly like its own small world.

He recalled the indescribable sensation of activating SEA and launching the game for the first time. The intelligent engine governed that world, and they were only setting a few rules and glimpsing fragments of it.

There were many things behind this game unknown to players, things he knew well.

Gods and Demons might appear to be his creation, but at some point, it might have already become something independent.

Especially after this upgrade.

Yu Haiqing sat there motionless for a while, lost in thought. Then he reached out and tore the film off the holographic helmet.

The acquisition should finish sooner than expected, he thought. With personnel management already planned, once the transition was complete, his workload would ease significantly.

He wanted to log back in, hopefully in time for the third anniversary of Gods and Demons.

But if he wanted to log in, he’d need to make some adjustments.

Yu Haiqing’s game account was unique.

Meanwhile, the twenty or so days passed in a flash, and the update was almost here.

Xie Shuangxue had been waiting for this moment.

During this time, he’d been avoiding the forum to keep a low profile, but more light spots kept falling on him at a much higher frequency than before. Slowly accumulating, he now had a considerable amount of light.

Xie Shuangxue had identified three sources of light. He’d done his own comparisons and found that each type had differences.

The first was the meteor-like light he initially captured, which was the weakest. The light generated by external discussion was stronger, solidifying into small dots. But the best was the ball of light he’d obtained from Yu Haiqing, which lasted the longest.

Unfortunately, he didn’t know when he’d see his one-of-a-kind patron again.

But quality aside, the key was whether the light could be used.

The instant the update went live, Xie Shuangxue finally escaped the gray space. At first, he plunged into darkness, his body feeling as if it was floating, his senses numbed like ice, then gradually reawakening.

When he opened his eyes again, even the air felt different.

It was thick with the smell of blood.

This was the start of the new storyline.

Xie Shuangxue had been through this scenario many times in testing; he remembered it well—a brutal opening scene.

As an orphan adopted by the Feather Clan, his background was anything but ordinary. The Feather Clan, with its aloof demeanor, didn’t typically take people in.

Xie Shuangxue was the last orphan of the Xie family, a clan closely tied to the Feather Clan.

The Feather Clan’s stronghold, Floating Dreams, was a place floating high in the clouds, thousands of meters above ground. As their name implied, each Feather Clan member was born with mighty wings that extended five to six meters wide when fully spread. These wings served as both armor and weapon, granting them the unique ability to fly between Floating Dreams and the world below.

At the world’s edge lay a small city called Penglai, which served as a gateway to the lower world, connected to Floating Dreams by a special array in the city center that allowed ordinary people to access the Feather Clan’s realm.

For years, the Xie family had controlled Penglai, possessing absolute authority over the city. In many ways, the Xie family was the Feather Clan’s loyal servant in the world below, maintaining their connection.

But unexpectedly, disaster struck Penglai.

One night, without warning, thousands of skeletal ghosts emerged from the ground. Covered in dark energy, these ghosts killed anyone they saw. Under the Feather Clan’s protection, Penglai had never faced such an attack, and the city’s defenses crumbled in an instant.

By the time the Feather Clan received word and descended, few survivors remained.

Lord Xie could have fled, but he stayed behind to prevent the complete downfall of the city.

When the Feather Clan arrived, he was gravely wounded, holding on to his last breath, and left the Feather Clan’s commander, Chun Yao, with two requests: to care for the remaining citizens and to look after his worthless son.

Xie Shuangxue was that worthless son.

And Lord Xie wasn’t exaggerating. His son really was rather useless—Xie Shuangxue’s only role in this situation was to hide and wait for rescue.

Hiding in a secret room in the manor, he watched the situation through a small vent until he saw the Feather Clan’s arrival and called out for help.

But as the Feather Clan warrior freed him from the room, several skeletal ghosts lurking in ambush leapt out and attacked while they were off guard.

The ghosts knew Xie Shuangxue was there and used him as bait, hoping to lure Chun Yao, who didn’t appear.

The Feather Clan warrior had his back to the attackers, but Xie Shuangxue saw them head-on.

At that moment, instead of fighting back, he pushed his rescuer forward as a shield and ran while the warrior took the blow.

Due to Lord Xie’s last words, the Feather Clan left many warriors in the manor to find him. Xie Shuangxue quickly encountered another Feather Clan member after fleeing, saving him.

He knew he’d acted shamefully, and feared the Feather Clan would abandon him if they learned what he’d done. So, he kept quiet, not sending anyone back to help.

That Feather Clan warrior died from his injuries, unable to reveal the truth about Xie Shuangxue’s actions.

Xie Shuangxue’s personality was clear from the start—selfish, a thankless wretch.

But the main storyline didn’t center on him. The real protagonist always held the main perspective.

The Feather Clan saved another alongside Xie Shuangxue—Luo Yin.

At this time, Chun Yao hadn’t been named the successor. Only recently of age, it was his first time facing the skeletal ghosts and such horrors. While searching for survivors, he almost fell victim to an expertly disguised ghost commander.

Suddenly, a figure sprang from the terrified crowd, shoving him aside, causing the attack to miss its mark.

That person was Luo Yin.

Still young and unthinking, Chun Yao felt profoundly grateful to his rescuer, who seemed an ordinary man, albeit unconscious from serious injuries. Later, circumstances led Chun Yao to take Luo Yin back to the Feather Clan, rather than leaving him with the other citizens in a safe place.

See, the difference between protagonist and side character is stark. Luo Yin saves, while Xie Shuangxue endangers. The main couple gets a moment of budding affection; Xie Shuangxue embodies ingratitude.

This was the first life Xie Shuangxue cost through selfishness. From this point on, every step was wrong.

This was also the first storyline he intended to change.

For this, he had three options in mind.

One, he could warn the rescuer of the ambush. Two, he could refrain from using the Feather Clan warrior as a shield. Three, he could call for help once he escaped.

Avoiding all wrong choices might just save the warrior.

As for the idea of confronting the ghost commander himself, Xie Shuangxue hadn’t considered it. He simply didn’t have the fighting skills for that.

But as he entered the official storyline, the suppression from the main brain intensified.

Compared to testing, this was a whole new level. According to the plot, his only move was to crouch, watching through a small vent in fear.

Attempting to change this, he used up some light just to slightly move his hand.

He couldn’t make big moves. To alter the storyline, he needed a subtle approach.