I Can’t Keep Being a Scumbag Anymore—What Should I Do? [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 4

The next day, Ran Muqiu arrived at class to find several seats empty.

A quick glance confirmed that Qin Wei, Slim Monkey, and Li Zhuo had all called in sick.

Ran Muqiu was surprised. It wasn’t unusual for Qin Wei and his gang to skip class, but for Li Zhuo to be absent was truly rare.

Nancheng High wasn’t a prestigious institution; the teaching staff was mediocre, and the university admission rate was dismal. If ten percent of the students made it into first-tier universities, it was considered a grand victory.

In this world, the reason Ran Muqiu’s “Scumbag Bully” persona attended this school was solely to spite his father by choosing a school as far from home as possible. However, the bully came from a wealthy family and didn’t need the Gaokao to “leap through the dragon gate” to success.

The Protagonist was different.

Li Zhuo’s grades were excellent. Originally, he was more than qualified for the city’s top affiliated high school, but a family tragedy during the high school entrance exams prevented him from taking his final test. Lacking the money for “selection fees,” he ended up at Nancheng High.

Even here, he had intended to study hard despite the hostile environment. Unfortunately, he ran into a “bad seed” like the School Bully, who not only tormented him at every turn but forced him into a constant, exhausting sexual relationship.

It was hard enough for Li Zhuo to survive under the bully’s thumb; the physical toll left him with no energy to study, and his grades plummeted. This continued until the “School Grass” (the Main Gong) transferred in, completed a series of “face-slapping” maneuvers, and helped the Protagonist get back on the right track.

In reality, the Protagonist and the Main Gong spent just as much time in bed as the bully had—with even more “variations,” often leaving Li Zhuo sleepless. Yet, for some reason, the script dictated that as soon as the Main Gong arrived, Li Zhuo suddenly had time for both sex and straight-A studies.

Don’t ask—it’s just the script.

Ran Muqiu remembered that in the original plot, the first time the Protagonist missed school was because the Scumbag Bully used “special props” to torment him until he couldn’t get out of bed. Even then, the bully had been enough of a beast to barge into the rental apartment, pinning him down for more, claiming that “a feverish body has a flavor all its own.”

But Muqiu had done none of those things. At most, he had used low-level bullying tactics. Since the Heartbreak Value hadn’t budged, Li Zhuo shouldn’t have reached the point of being “unable to study.”

So, the question remained: Why did Li Zhuo suddenly take a leave of absence?

With Qin Wei and Li Zhuo both gone, Ran Muqiu had a boring day. However, he wasn’t entirely idle. He mentally reviewed his actions over the last two months and checked his progress.

Seeing that big fat “0” next to the Heartbreak Value gave him another pang of chest pain.

Over the weekend, he had wheedled and pestered 233 into applying for a difficulty downgrade from the Bureau. Since they were old partners, 233 had witnessed Muqiu’s frantic struggles and softened, submitting the report early. It was currently under review at HQ, with results expected within two days.

Thinking that he might soon be free from this forced “sponsorship,” Muqiu decided to visit Li Zhuo to settle things—and to see why he had missed school. After all, Li Zhuo had been quite diligent this past month, and last week’s dinner was genuinely impressive.

After school, Ran Muqiu waited until the classroom was empty before grabbing his bag and sneaking off toward the low-rent apartments.

This area was purely residential. On the way, he had to pass several food stalls and outdoor grills. As dusk fell, the scent of cheap spices and roasted meat filled the air, accompanied by the crisp clinking of beer bottles. It was a night market full of the “fireworks of the mortal world.”

Ran Muqiu’s pace slowed. As he walked, he noticed a group of boys sitting outside a BBQ shop. They were wearing jerseys, sweating, and shouting—likely high schoolers from the area. Since Nancheng High was the only high school nearby, Muqiu worried he might be recognized and took a few extra glances.

As he was looking, one of the boys suddenly turned around. Holding a beer bottle and looking for an opener, he looked up and locked eyes with Ran Muqiu.

The boy’s face was flushed from alcohol, and his eyes were a bit glazed. He stared at Muqiu for a few seconds before letting out a loud, enthusiastic whistle.

Ran Muqiu: “…”

Confirmed. These guys are definitely not from Nancheng High.

In his own school, he was the Bully. Even if the role was forced by the script, he held a certain authority, and Qin Wei’s gang always followed his lead. No one had ever dared to whistle at him like that.

The boy didn’t stop at the whistle; he nudged his friends to look. Soon, several pairs of eyes were fixed on Muqiu, sizing him up with snickers. Ran Muqiu caught snippets of their conversation: “Fine as hell,” “So pale,” “Cute.”

Ran Muqiu glared at them one by one with a cold face, but instead of being intimidated, they responded with even more ill-intentioned jeers.

The one who whistled laughed at the glare and nudged the person sitting next to him, whispering something in his ear.

That person was wearing a basketball jersey, had pale blonde hair, and wore a blue-and-white wristband on his right arm. He was tall with long legs, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, sitting in a lazy, sprawling posture.

He was the only one who hadn’t turned around. He sat with his legs wide apart, one foot resting on a basketball under the table, looking down at his phone. He looked annoyed by the whispering, seemingly uninterested in whatever “amusement” was happening.

Finally, looking thoroughly fed up, he frowned and turned his face slightly, casting a lukewarm glance toward Ran Muqiu.

From Muqiu’s perspective, he only saw a sharp profile, messy blonde hair falling over the forehead, and a very prominent mole under the eye.

The blonde boy’s gaze lingered on him for a moment. As if unimpressed, he looked back down, pulled the cigarette from his lips, and let out a disdainful snort. “That’s it? Boy or girl?”

The voice wasn’t loud, but it was just enough to drift into Muqiu’s ears on the wind. His tone was incredibly punchable.

Ran Muqiu: “…”

Where is Qin Wei? Where is Slim Monkey??

He desperately wanted to send his lackeys to beat this guy up! He was a “mighty” school bully in this world—when had he ever suffered such an insult?

Unfortunately, he was alone, and the blonde guy looked far more like a “genuine” school bully than he did. Muqiu spent two seconds gnashing his teeth at the blonde’s back before swallowing his pride and walking away.

Before leaving, he caught another glimpse of that flashy hair color and felt he was forgetting something important. But no matter how hard he searched his memory, he found nothing.

The alley was just ahead, and Muqiu didn’t want to dwell on it lest he get angrier. He quickened his pace and pushed the encounter to the back of his mind.

Muqiu climbed to the third floor and knocked on the iron gate. Within seconds, a familiar male voice rang out: “Who is it?”

The voice was deep, colder and more guarded than usual.

Ran Muqiu cleared his throat. “It’s me.”

The old gate had no peephole. After a two-second wait, the door swung open. Li Zhuo was wearing a white tank top and loose sweatpants, one arm resting on the door handle. He stood silently, watching him.

Ran Muqiu peeked in to inspect him. The boy was undeniably handsome—long lashes, amber eyes that shimmered like ripples on water; he truly lived up to the five hundred words of “beauty description” in the original script.

But right now, just below the corner of Li Zhuo’s mouth, there was a jagged, scabbed-over cut. It was a jarring blemish on that perfect face.

Ran Muqiu gasped, staring at the wound. “What happened to your face?”

He had reason to be shocked. In the original “smutty novel” script, the author’s primary focus for the Protagonist was “Beauty Value.” Even when the Scumbag Bully was being a beast, he never touched that face. The Protagonist’s face was supposed to remain perfect from beginning to end.

But now, with his eyelids lowered and his hair messy, the scar gave Li Zhuo an air of hidden ferocity. He didn’t look like a “white lotus” anymore; he looked like a stray dog.

Li Zhuo blinked, seemingly surprised that Muqiu’s first question was about his face. He reached up, touching the scab with a slight frown. “Tripped while walking.”

Ran Muqiu: “…”

What a blatant lie.

Ran Muqiu pursed his lips, trying to remember if the script mentioned the Protagonist being a liar.

Li Zhuo looked down at him. Seeing the boy’s slumped shoulders and unhappy expression, he suddenly leaned down, bringing his face right in front of Muqiu’s.

“Is it ugly?”

Ran Muqiu: “…”

The Protagonist’s exquisitely handsome face magnified before him, his thin lips moving as his warm breath brushed against Muqiu’s skin.

Muqiu’s brain short-circuited for a second. He nodded dazedly. “N-No.”

Li Zhuo’s eyebrow arched slightly.

A second later, Muqiu snapped out of it. Remembering his persona as an arrogant jerk, he quickly corrected himself. “No! I mean, it’s not as good-looking as before. Yeah! There’s a scar now, it looks hideous!”

Li Zhuo stared at the boy’s obvious expression of “disgust.” He froze, his eyes darkening slightly as he straightened up and nodded. “Understood.”

Ran Muqiu: “?”

What do you “know” now?

Ran Muqiu always felt this Protagonist was a bit strange sometimes, but he couldn’t tell if it was because he hadn’t studied the script thoroughly enough. After all, if he truly understood the character’s persona, he wouldn’t have spent two months failing to grind a single point of Heartbreak Value out of Li Zhuo.

The two didn’t continue their conversation at the door. Li Zhuo opened the iron gate and let Ran Muqiu inside.

Once indoors, Li Zhuo pulled the white slippers from the shoe cabinet while asking, “It’s getting late. Is there something you need?”

Ran Muqiu stepped into the living room in his bunny slippers. “I have something to say to you.”

According to 233, when a “Difficulty Downgrade” application was approved, the result was usually the “Dimensional Reduction” of the target.

This was a technical term in the Quick Transmigration world. Simply put, “Dimensional Reduction” changed the target’s internal operating mode. They would shift from a flesh-and-blood person into an NPC-like programmed character.

If you hit them, they would cry; if you teased them, they would smile. While they would still satisfy the basic traits of the role, the difficulty of the conquest would be minimized.

Of course, the rewards for completing a mission in a downgraded world would be heavily slashed—usually just enough to cover the base requirements.

Under normal circumstances, most hosts wouldn’t choose Dimensional Reduction unless they encountered high-risk scenarios, such as apocalyptic or horror worlds, or targets with severe violent tendencies.

But after two months of wasted effort, Ran Muqiu was no longer as greedy for those 1,000 points as he once was. In the dead of night, he had even considered that after finishing this world, he should stop accepting roles so different from his own personality and just settle for being a background NPC.

It turned out that making the big bucks wasn’t for everyone.

However, thinking that after tonight Li Zhuo might become a mere puppet with template-like words and actions, Ran Muqiu felt an inexplicable trace of reluctance.

He stole a glance at Li Zhuo, only to find the other was already looking at him. Ran Muqiu cleared his throat, preparing to speak.

But Li Zhuo looked at him twice and stood up from the sofa.

Ran Muqiu cut himself off mid-sentence. “What is it?”

The weather had turned chilly, but Ran Muqiu wasn’t wearing his school jacket. His thin shirt and cropped trousers left a pair of slender ankles exposed—so white they were eye-catching.

Li Zhuo withdrew his gaze. “Wait a moment.”

Ran Muqiu: “?”

Li Zhuo headed straight for the bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Ran Muqiu: “…”

Did Li Zhuo always have a cleanliness obsession? Isn’t that usually a trait for the “Gong” (Alpha/Top) characters?

Before he could process it, the sound of running water echoed from the bathroom.

Muqiu sat dazed in the living room, cupping his face and poking at his phone, eventually starting a game of Match-3. He expected a guy’s shower to be quick, but Li Zhuo stayed in there for a full thirty minutes.

Half an hour later, the bathroom door opened.

Muqiu’s neck was getting stiff from the game. He looked up, complaining, “What took you so—”

The rest of the words caught in his throat.

Ran Muqiu’s eyes widened at the sight before him.

Li Zhuo was wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips. The youth had broad shoulders and a narrow waist; his hair was damp with steam. Those amber peach-blossom eyes tilted upward slightly as they swept over Ran Muqiu.

Ran Muqiu: ?

Ran Muqiu was stunned.

It took a long time for him to find his tongue. “Why, why aren’t you wearing clothes?” he stammered.

“Hmm?” Li Zhuo was drying his hair with a towel, his movements tracing elegant lines along his arms and waist. Hearing this, he paused and tilted his head. “Didn’t you say that before you come over, you wanted me to clean myself and wait for you?”

As he spoke, he walked slowly toward Ran Muqiu, his voice low, soft, and mellow. “I should be quite clean now. Do you want to check?”