I Thought it Was Only a Game. - Chapter 1

Location: City A.

Date: June 3rd.

Time: Afternoon.

The cicadas shrieked incessantly as a scorching sun baked the earth. The entire metropolis of steel felt like a giant steamer basket; pedestrians, drenched in sweat, trudged across the asphalt like meat being seared on a griddle—flipped from front to back, teeth clenched as they hurried along for the sake of a paycheck. On the news, reporters discussed the increasingly erratic weather patterns of the past year.

“Our city has welcomed the hottest start to June in decades. Experts predict that outdoor temperatures exceeding 40°C will persist for several days. We remind our viewers to stay cool and stay hydrated.”

At the university gates, three security guards—possessing a grand total of seven teeth between them sat huddled in a cramped sliver of shade beneath the eaves. They tugged at their loose collars, vigorously waving old cattail fans.

“This heat is enough to kill a man,” one grumbled.

“Tell me about it,” another replied. “Say, did you hear? Someone jumped off the Twin Towers a few days ago.”

The chilling ghost story finally brought a hint of coolness to the summer air. Suddenly, a phantom wind whipped up, and a youthful figure flashed past the old men’s eyes like a bolt of lightning.

Before they could see who it was, their vision was blocked by a mountain of a man—a bloated, pudgy youth. His overbearing attitude made his lack of manners immediately apparent. “Hey, old timers. Let me ask you something.”

The guards, whose armbands were embroidered with the word MIGHTY TIGER, frowned in unison. They didn’t want to bicker with a youngster, but they weren’t exactly eager to help him either.

The fat man, Pao Hui, was oblivious. He was still riding the high of having just “transmigrated.” To him, this entire world was a book; everyone else was an NPC, and he was the Protagonist—the Child of Destiny. He felt he could do whatever he pleased.

Right now, he was making sure the book’s original Child of Destiny wouldn’t get in his way.

“Did you see Zhen Liu today? The Vice President of the Student Council.”

Had he asked about any other student, the guards might not have known. But Zhen Liu was different. He had stellar grades, striking looks, and because he worked part-time helping out the faculty offices, he was a familiar, well-liked face among the staff.

“Who are you? Why are you looking for our student?”

“He’s got a lot more manners than you, I’ll tell you that.”

“Heh, the one who just sped past was him. You missed him.”

That “gust of wind” had been Zhen Liu on his bicycle. Looking back now, all that remained was a white silhouette—slender, upright, and poised—pedaling a shared bike into the distance. Tall, lean, and possessing a clean, cool aura. Even in the sweltering heat, he rarely seemed to sweat; he carried a faint, refreshing scent, like a sea breeze.

Pao Hui’s face soured. “He’s not even that good-looking,” he muttered sourly, before cursing under his breath and scrambling back to his car to give chase.

One of the guards looked worried. “Will Zhen Liu be okay? Should we call the school?”

“I’ll call the faculty office right now.”

Only the most composed guard continued waving his fan. “He won’t catch him.”

Zhen Liu always took shortcuts through the narrow alleys of the old district to save time. A car couldn’t fit back there. If the fat man didn’t know the destination, how could he follow? They might as well just wait for the punchline.

As predicted, Pao Hui was quickly stumped by the terrain. He slammed his steering wheel in frustration.

But soon, his dim-witted brain clicked. This was the beginning of the story! The key details matched. He didn’t need to chase Zhen Liu like a fool; he knew the destination—Twilight Detective Agency, Shop L049, located at the intersection of 4th Avenue and 4th Street.

The uncle of Zhen Liu’s friend, Qian Xiaoqian, had recently secured a “partner” status with Twilight and opened this modest holographic Jubensha (Script-killing) shop. Since it was new, business was slow, and they struggled to find enough players to start a game. Qian Xiaoqian was often dragged in to fill a slot, but since he was busy today, he had asked his friend Zhen Liu to take his place.

And Zhen Liu was the primary lead of the novel, Osmond.

Before today, Pao Hui had been an ordinary shut-in from another world, obsessed with mystery webnovels. Upon waking up and realizing he had transmigrated into the book, he was desperate to replace the original protagonist.

Osmond was a mystery novel where the lead, Zhen Liu, had a supernatural sensitivity to lies—a “cheat” gifted by the author. Zhen Liu would accidentally wander into a “Game of the Gods,” thinking he was just playing VR murder mysteries. In reality, under the gaze of various deities, he was solving cold cases from different worlds, eventually rising to the pinnacle of life.

When Pao Hui transmigrated, Osmond was still being serialized. Though he hadn’t seen the ending, he believed he knew all the rules, the truth behind every case, and exactly how Zhen Liu won the favor of the gods.

I should be the protagonist with the cheat code, he thought. I’ll do it better than Zhen Liu ever could!

Today was Zhen Liu’s first-ever script-killing game. It was his debut.

Pao Hui arrived at Shop L049 ahead of time, full of ambition, believing this was the moment his fate would change. Unfortunately, the owner—Xiaoqian’s uncle, rejected his request to join.

Boss Qian, keeping his customer-service persona in check, explained patiently: “I’m so sorry, dear. Today’s session is already full! If you’d like to play, I can book you for tomorrow, or recommend some other excellent beginner scripts. We can help you find a group, though it might take some time. In the meantime, feel free to try our gaming pods for free.”

“No, I want this session.” Pao Hui didn’t care who the man was. To him, the man was just a low-level NPC being difficult.

Boss Qian wasn’t about to indulge him. “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you, dear.” He ushered him out with the politest tone possible.

That was why Pao Hui was now sitting in his car, fuming, waiting for Zhen Liu to arrive. Even the car’s maxed-out AC couldn’t quench the fire in his gut.

At 15:55, exactly as written in the book, Zhen Liu arrived.

The cool youth appeared like a block of ice cutting through the heat, emerging from the opposite alleyway like a work of art stepping into reality.

He braked, dismounted, and lowered his head to lock the bike.

Pao Hui took a deep breath, suppressed his indignation, and put on a mask of forced enthusiasm. He stepped forward as if they were old friends. “Vice President! What a surprise to see you here. Are your exams over?”

Zhen Liu stood up. He first checked his phone to confirm the bike was locked within the free rental period. Only then did he calmly look up at the fat stranger.

“And you are?”

“I’m a freshman from your department, class of ’21! We met during orientation, though you probably don’t remember me. It’s okay! I finished my exams this morning and wanted to play a script-killing game, but they told me they were full. Sigh, I’m debating whether to head back to campus, but it feels like such a waste of a trip.”

Pao Hui’s “hint” was so heavy-handed a fool could see it. He wasn’t going to give Zhen Liu a chance to say no.

Zhen Liu’s response was simple: “Oh.”

Without another word, Zhen Liu turned toward the quiet shop entrance. His gait wasn’t hurried, yet in an instant, he had bypassed the stunned Pao Hui and reached for the door handle.

“Vice President!” Pao Hui cried out, panicked.

Zhen Liu paused, his hand on the handle, and glanced back. “Is there something else?”

“Are you here for the script-killing game, too? Want to team up? I’m so bored being here by myself.” In a flash, Pao Hui recalibrated his goals. Since he couldn’t replace Zhen Liu in the first case, he would join him.

After all, the most powerful High Gods wouldn’t appear in the first scenario; the livestream would only be watched by lower-level Divine Servants. This was truly just a “Newbie Script”—Zhen Liu’s first unpolished step onto the cosmic stage.

“Sorry, our group is full,” Zhen Liu replied, his tone as detached as ever.

Pao Hui: “…”

He had assumed Zhen Liu would feel at least a shred of guilt seeing a “forgotten” junior from his own department and offer to look after him. Surely a normal person wouldn’t be this blunt? Why was Zhen Liu so practiced at shutting people down?

“Come on, Vice President, cut me some slack. It’s just one more person. We can just swap the five-player script for a six-player one—there are plenty of fun six-player beginner scripts! It’s fate that we bumped into each other here, isn’t it?

Please, Vice President, I really want to play.” Pao Hui continued to pester him.

“You’re lying.”

Zhen Liu’s patience had run dry. He was about to be late, and he loathed tardiness more than anything. He spoke faster now, his words sharpening into blades. “I never told you which game I was playing.”

In his desperation, Pao Hui had let slip information he shouldn’t have known. Realizing he’d been caught, panic set in, and he scrambled to salvage the lie. “I—right, I actually knew which script you were playing because I overheard it from Senior Qian! I only lied because I wanted to play with you. I don’t have any ill intentions; it’s just a game, right? What would I even gain from going to all this trouble to deceive you?”

Right, what is there to gain? That was the one part that didn’t make sense to Zhen Liu. However.

“That isn’t the only thing you’re lying about. You’ve been lying from the very beginning. I remember every person I’ve ever met. You aren’t a student at our school, and we have never crossed paths. Lying to me is a waste of time.”

He had known from the very first second.

Not far away, inside a low-profile black SUV, Lucien had been ready to head home after finishing his games for the day. But as he watched the scene unfolding at the shop entrance, his interest was suddenly piqued.

Sitting upright in the passenger seat was a young man in an identical white shirt. The moment he saw Zhen Liu, his nerves tightened, and his hands clenched instinctively. He didn’t dare countermand his Boss’s decisions, so he feigned composure and subtly nudged Lucien. “Boss, shouldn’t we be heading back?”

Lucien narrowed his eyes, looking at the young man with a half-smile. The man’s soul was already beginning to sizzle with oil, giving off a heavy scent of citric acid—the smell of jealousy.

A squeeze of lemon juice on salmon sashimi can remove the fishiness and make the meat more tender. But if the meat is drowned in white vinegar, it becomes utterly tasteless.

“You’ve cost me a fine delicacy.” Lucien’s magic clamped down hard on the young man’s throat. “But I have always been magnanimous, haven’t I? If you want to keep that fragile neck of yours, tell me: why are you trying to stop me from approaching that human?”

By the time Lucien stepped out of the car, the young man was nowhere to be found. Lucien had kept his promise, he left the man’s neck for his Cerberus.

They did so love carrion.

________________________________________

Author’s Theater

Lucien (Smiling): As a God of Gastronomy, it’s perfectly reasonable for me to keep a few Hellhounds as pets, right?

Zhen Liu: “…”

PS: There is more than one transmigrator in this story, but both the MC (Shou) and ML (Gong) are original residents of this world.