Acting as the 'White Moonlight' in Destructive Novels [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 1

Steam filled the bathroom, and Lin Qingyu stood in the large soaking tub, his mind drifting.

A supporting actor dressed as a eunuch was pouring water over him while surreptitiously poking him. The camera had already pulled in, it was time for him to get up and strike a pose.

Lin Qingyu was a stunt double for online short dramas, specifically hired to show off the abs of the delicate, “white-chopped chicken” male leads. His physique was built with a private trainer—solid, well-proportioned, and explosive—making him quite popular on set. Whenever there was a shower or fitness scene to display muscle, the crew always called him.

Following the instructions, Lin Qingyu stood up in the tub. Water slid down his honey-colored chest, traced his abdominal muscles, left a wet trail, and splashed into the water, sparking imagination.

The director looked at the results, wasn’t satisfied, and demanded a retake. He wanted Lin Qingyu to pull his swim trunks down a bit lower so the camera wouldn’t catch them, and he wanted the movements to be more affected—to really flex those muscles.

Lin Qingyu stood by the edge of the pool, watching the director twist and turn to give acting guidance. Several actresses gathered to one side, staring at his muscles and whispering, pinching their companion’s arms until they turned bright red.

Are they complimenting me? Good taste.

Lin Qingyu puffed out his chest and muscles, showing his worth. He had invested a lot of capital into turning from a skinny, dry monkey into a solid, muscular man; he needed to earn back his investment as soon as possible.

The director went off to find the male lead. Lin Qingyu stared at the actresses, pondering—he felt this was an opportunity. He had previously collaborated on videos with a cosplay streamer, and the comment section had been quite satisfied with his looks. They had left all sorts of emojis that definitely wouldn’t pass censorship and suggested a pile of ideas that tested the limits of platform moderation.

He could certainly make a living as a short drama actor. Taking advantage of the director’s absence, Lin Qingyu headed toward the break room. He wanted to get his phone, add the actors on social media, and try to score a few more gigs. They could play the “overbearing miss forcing her love,” and he could play the rival villain competing for her affection.

The moment he pushed open the room door, Lin Qingyu’s mind went blank.

Behind the door was not the familiar dressing room, and those walking back and forth were not staff members. A narrow, dim corridor came into view; there were no windows, and on both sides were rows upon rows of metal doors. Oddly dressed people were gathered together playing with knives; red lights glowed outside several rooms, and a group of men and women were twisting their bodies at the entrances, shouting about “Buy one night, get one free.”

Not far away, a sign stood at the entrance of a shop: “Grand Opening, Gun Promotion: Handguns as low as 100 Future Coins.”

A short drama crew wouldn’t have such high-end sets. Lin Qingyu’s brain was a blank slate.

The wooden door had turned into an elevator door at some point. He had blocked the door for too long, and the elevator let out a “beep” alert. A delivery drone the size of a palm flew out of the elevator, buzzing. It bumped into Lin Qingyu’s shoulder, snapping him out of his bewilderment.

He turned to walk back, but behind him, there was no busy film crew—only an elevator cabin covered in graffiti.

“#EntertheFutureCityEnjoyaSplendidLifeWhatAreYouWaitingFor#”

“#MemoryisHumanity’sPreciousWealth!#”

“#CastYourPreciousVoteforthePresidentinYourHeart!#”

“#ArtificialIntelligenceThreatTheory?SeeWhattheExpertsSay#”

The elevator was filled with the noisy sound of advertisements, pulling Lin Qingyu’s reason back. The light screen flickered rapidly, the multicolored lights illuminating his pale face, as well as the bloodstains in the cabin. A male corpse lay in the corner of the elevator, head hanging low against the wall, his suit soaked in blood.

And Lin Qingyu had just come out of that elevator.

What is this? A stunt double enters an alternate world? Transmigrated: I am an Elevator Murderer?

Lin Qingyu looked down, unwilling to accept reality. He was wearing an outfit he didn’t recognize, and in his hand, he held a samurai sword; blood was sliding down the blade, dripping onto the floor. Lin Qingyu’s heart turned cold.

After repeatedly opening and closing the elevator doors and confirming he couldn’t transmigrate back, Lin Qingyu squatted beside the elevator, deep in thought. He had just discovered that the corpse was covered in knife wounds; the murderer was 80% likely to be him. But he also discovered that the corpse wasn’t human—under the skin were wires.

The dead thing is an AI; I shouldn’t… have to go to jail.

The blood on the elevator and the sword was Lin Qingyu’s own. His back, chest, and the back of his head were covered in wounds. The injury on the back of his head was the most serious—someone had punched a two-finger-wide hole into it. It was deep; his fingers couldn’t touch the bottom, and it was blowing cold air. It didn’t hurt. He wasn’t sure why. It seemed the AI had held the sword, intending to hack the original owner of this body to death, but he had snatched the sword and killed it in return. Finally, the robot died, and the person had died from severe injuries.

The incredibly unlucky Lin Qingyu had transmigrated over to take over this mess. Afraid of scaring people, Lin Qingyu specifically hid the sword. He couldn’t find his phone and didn’t dare move around, fearing he would aggravate his injuries. He just hoped someone would call the police, catch him, and send him to the hospital for emergency treatment.

The elevator went up and down; passersby came and went. No one took the corpse seriously; instead, they avoided him like he was a plague god.

Several tattooed men walked out of the gun shop, casually swatting away a robot waiting for delivery as they walked toward the elevator.

“F–k it, didn’t they say if we worked a full year we’d get paid? Where’s the money!”

“Stop complaining. It’s not like you dare to go against Titanium Dome Technology.”

“Titanium Dome is too ‘poor’, can pick such an unlucky name, they’ll go bankrupt sooner or later! Pfft!”

“Speaking of which, are you guys planning on joining the ‘Restart Future’ project…”

The burly black man paused, nudged the boss, and gestured toward Lin Qingyu. The bald man followed his subordinate’s gaze. In the shadow beside the elevator squatted a man. The elevator doors opened and closed, the lights illuminating his face intermittently.

The man was a mixed-blood. His features were rugged, with a high nose bridge and thin lips, and his skin was a healthy wheat color. A slightly long “wolf-tail” hairstyle fell to his shoulders, his black hair interspersed with a few strands of dyed red. He wore an unremarkable cropped jacket, and a tight black tank top beneath hugged sturdy muscles. He had no tattoos, no piercings, hadn’t covered his face in totems, and hadn’t modified himself into a “cyber-human”—at a glance, he looked like a simple, honest man.

The bald man rubbed his head. Should he just knock him out and sell him to Beauty Street to be a gigolo? The mixed-blood guy had good looks and a good body; he should be able to sell for a decent price.

The subordinate tapped him twice more, and only then did the bald man realize something was wrong. There was a broken corpse lying in the elevator, and the mixed-blood man had his head lowered, covered in blood. A pair of upturned green eyes were staring at them like a wolf, flashing with excited light. He wore a black collar around his neck, with a metal dog-head pendant hanging below.

It was the notorious “Stray Dog” gang’s signature mark.

The “Stray Dog” had noticed them. He suddenly rose, walked out of the shadows, and headed straight for them. A short while ago, several “Stray Dogs” had blown themselves up in front of the government building, blasting away half of the government headquarters. These lunatics were walking bombs; the bald man didn’t dare slash at him, fearing that if he wasn’t careful, he’d blow the guy up.

He gathered his courage. “Hey, brother, something up?”

Saved. Finally, someone is talking to me. Lin Qingyu laughed with relief. “I just accidentally killed someone…”

Looking at the ferocious smile on the face of the “human bomb,” the bald man waved his hands frantically. “We didn’t see anything! We promise we won’t call the police!”

The tattooed man behind him, having plenty of experience, began stuffing stacks of cash into Lin Qingyu’s arms. “Is this enough? People don’t carry cash when they go out these days. If it weren’t for the fact that Future Tower doesn’t support electronic transactions, we wouldn’t have brought so much.”

Lin Qingyu clutched the cash, staring at the group in a daze. No matter how wild his imagination was, he couldn’t match their thought processes. Although he didn’t understand, they were probably good people. Lin Qingyu felt embarrassed taking their money and thought about borrowing some. He wanted to show them his wounds, let people in this world help estimate how much money he needed for treatment, and then have them recommend a nearby place.

He put the money on a fire hydrant and grabbed the hem of his tank top. Before he could even pull it up, the several burly men bolted like cats that had their tails stepped on, yelping as they scrambled away.

“It’s gonna blow, it’s gonna blow, run!” “There’s a bomb! The Stray Dog is gonna explode!!!”

They shouted as they ran, diving into the elevator to escape. Their cries rang out, and the crowd wandering the corridor screamed as they dived into their rooms. In the blink of an eye, Lin Qingyu was the only person left on the floor.

Lin Qingyu clutched his shirt, looking around in panic. What’s blowing up? Who’s blowing up? Should I be hiding, too?

“Qingyu, why are you here?”

A gentle male voice stopped Lin Qingyu, who was spinning in place. A tall, slender Asian man walked toward him. He was wearing a tailored suit and gold-rimmed glasses. His appearance was undistinguished, looking quite plain. But his demeanor was excellent—refined and gentle, looking very well-bred. What was most unique was his pair of peach-blossom eyes; they were warm and tender, so deep that he looked at a dog with affection. The eyes were so beautiful they were striking, looking slightly jarring on his face.

The man grabbed Lin Qingyu in a hug, burying his head in his shoulder, and let out a long sigh. “Long time no see. How did you get yourself into this state again? Did you get into a fight?”

Lin Qingyu took the opportunity to feel around his body. Aside from muscle, he felt nothing. Good, no danger. It seemed the explosion had nothing to do with him.

Lin Qingyu didn’t have the original owner’s memories and wasn’t clear on their relationship. He gave a vague “Mm” and pulled away to examine the man. The bespectacled man was tall—estimated at over 1.9 meters. Lin Qingyu was envious. Even with elevator shoes, he was only 1.85.

“Half a year has passed; your words are even fewer than before.” The man gently wiped the blood from his face, his voice pleasant. “Is it because it’s been too long and you’re not used to me? Or…”

Or what, he didn’t say.

The bespectacled man chattered on, catching up. They used to be closer than brothers; when Lin Qingyu was a child, he loved to chase behind his butt and call him “brother,” being especially cute. Lin Qingyu told him to stop reminiscing about childhood—everyone had just said there was a bomb here.

The man gave a surprised “Ah.”

Ah, what “ah”? He hadn’t even heard such a huge commotion. This friend of his was either hard of hearing or mentally unstable. It was likely the latter.

Lin Qingyu grabbed a handful of the money on the ground and started backing away, wanting to take the elevator and run. The bespectacled man didn’t seem to notice his intent, continuing to talk to himself, his smile growing increasingly gentle.

By the end of the chat, he sighed with great emotion. “Qingyu, if only people didn’t have to grow up, if we could stay in childhood forever, in the most beautiful time… wouldn’t that be great? Right?”

This sounded too strange. Lin Qingyu’s intuition told him something was wrong. Just as he prepared to run, he saw the man pull a handgun from his coat.

“You destroyed my life. It’s not unreasonable for me to send you to hell, right? Don’t be afraid, Qingyu. I’ll go down to accompany you after I kill them all. My good little brother.”

A gunshot rang out, and Lin Qingyu’s world spun. Before consciousness vanished, he saw the man squatting beside him, raising a hand to gently close his eyes.

Lin Qingyu: ??? There wasn’t even any foreshadowing—is it that sudden?!

At the same time, an electronic voice rang out in Lin Qingyu’s mind.

“Detected that host ‘Lin Qingyu’ has died, triggering binding conditions. Welcome to the ‘White Moonlight System.’ I am your system, Little Coward, happy to be at your service.”