Fang Xiu woke up once again, his face now devoid of the previous madness, repced instead by a deathly calm.

  He repeated his usual routine: dressing, washing up, using the bathroom, eating, and then leaving home.

  Once more, he saw the sky filled with eerie creatures, including that adorable little girl licking a lollipop.

  Ignoring everything, he walked out of the neighborhood and onto the bustling streets.

  The sidewalks were crowded with people rushing to work or school, completely oblivious to the horrors around them. Some even had snake-headed monsters perched on their shoulders, chatting and ughing as if nothing were amiss.

  Sometimes, ignorance truly was bliss.

  Fang Xiu scanned a shared bike on the roadside, pnning to ride around and observe these creatures. To kill them, he first had to understand them.

  Of course, "observing" didn’t mean staring directly—if detected, death would be the only outcome.

  He pretended to wander aimlessly, keeping his eyes open.

  He wanted to see if these creatures were everywhere and whether they had a source.

  Ding!

  A crisp notification sounded.

  Fang Xiu stopped the bike and pulled out his phone. It was a message in the work group chat.

  Manager Wu Dahai was @-ing him.

  "Fang Xiu, what time is it? Still not at work? How many times have you been te this month? Do you even want your bonus?"

  Three aggressive questions in a row, dripping with the condescending tone of a boss scolding an employee.

  The old Fang Xiu would have groveled in apology by now.

  But the current Fang Xiu couldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters.

  In this hellish world, his only goals were uncovering the truth and seeking revenge.

  A stable job was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

  Imagine having to pretend not to see the monsters around you, constantly on edge, knowing that a single slip-up could mean death. Surviving alone was hard enough—holding down a job was nearly impossible.

  Just as he was about to close the chat and ignore the mundane concerns, he suddenly remembered the pitiful three-digit bance in his bank account.

  If I want to uncover the truth of this world, a few hundred won’t be enough. I can’t just ride shared bikes everywhere.

  This city might be crawling with monsters, but others might not be. I’ll need trains, maybe even pnes—all of which cost money.

  My past self apparently had an unpaid commission. If I can get that, it should buy me some time.

  With that in mind, Fang Xiu decided to go to the company one st time—to quit and demand his commission.

  He had considered using his death-looping ability to win the lottery but quickly dismissed the idea. He wasn’t that lucky. Besides, barring emergencies, he had no desire to die again. The sensation of death was unbearable, no matter how many times he’d experienced it.

  Fang Xiu lived in Greentree City, and his company was in the development zone, near an upscale vil district called Hundred Willows Manor. He worked as a sales agent in its real estate office.

  Half a year ago, he had sold a vil, but the commission had never been paid.

  So, he began typing in the work group chat:

  "I quit. I’ll come to the office this afternoon to collect my commission from the st sale."

  His message was blunt, devoid of the usual niceties—like a clueless newbie who hadn’t yet learned workpce politics.

  But he didn’t care. He had no patience for social games. Efficiency was all that mattered. He just wanted to settle this quickly and move on.

  The moment he sent the message, the group chat exploded.

  Manager Wu frantically @-ed him again.

  "Fang Xiu, what the hell is this?? Didn’t I say the commission would be paid at year-end? If you quit now, you won’t get a single cent!"

  Fang Xiu skimmed the message, didn’t bother replying, and closed the chat.

  Then, he pedaled the shared bike toward Hundred Willows Manor.

  His home was far from the office—a two-hour bus ride. But he wasn’t in a hurry. He wanted to observe the city carefully.

  He rode slowly, as if casually sightseeing, but his full attention was on the creatures around him.

  The farther he went, the more types of monsters he encountered—each stranger and more grotesque than the st.

  Gradually, he began noticing patterns.

  These creatures could see humans, but humans couldn’t see them.

  They fell into two broad categories.

  The first type cked rationality—twisted, snarling abominations that mindlessly attacked the people around them. Yet, like ghosts, their strikes passed harmlessly through the living.

  The second type was humanoid, mimicking colleagues, cssmates, or even family members—chatting and interacting as if they belonged.

  Of course, humans couldn’t see or hear them.

  Clearly, his "wife" belonged to this second category.

  These humanoid monsters had a peculiar trait: they closely resembled humans, some even indistinguishable in appearance.

  They seemed desperate to integrate into human lives, persisting even when ignored—like invisible outsiders stubbornly pying their roles.

  This puzzled Fang Xiu. Why do they insist on this charade? If they can’t affect reality, why keep pretending?

  Recalling his "wife’s" behavior, a theory formed in his mind.

  These creatures are testing whether humans can perceive them. Once confirmed, they can attack.

  No—

  He immediately dismissed the idea.

  Testing was only part of it.

  Logically, if a monster confirmed a human couldn’t see them, they should move on to another target for efficiency.

  But his "wife" hadn’t left after failing.

  Neither had the other humanoid creatures he’d seen. They clung to their chosen humans, babbling endlessly despite being unheard.

  Why?

  Suddenly, a chilling realization struck him.

  They’re trying to assimite into human life.

  That had to be it.

  Otherwise, why would his "wife" py her role so meticulously?

  If their goal was merely to test human perception, they could just startle their targets—appearing suddenly rather than acting out eborate roles.

  The only expnation was that they were attempting to blend in.

  But why?

  Working backward from the outcome:

  The creatures’ ultimate goal was clearly to devour humans, so everything they did must serve that purpose.

  Does assimition help them make contact?

  Currently, the monsters seemed intangible—existing in a state where humans couldn’t perceive them. Only when mutual awareness was confirmed did they solidify.

  Does it have to be sight?

  No—maybe hearing works too.

  He could see and hear them, while others couldn’t.

  Sight and hearing were both forms of perception.

  Once a monster confirmed a human could perceive them, interaction became possible.

  Thus, their integration into human lives must be a way to accelerate perception. Otherwise, they wouldn’t bother.

  At that moment, Fang Xiu realized something terrifying:

  Some cases of "auditory hallucinations" or "seeing things" might not be delusions at all.

  When people heard their names called or voices whispering from nowhere, it might actually be these creatures, gradually seeping into their lives.

  The deeper the assimition, the more frequent these "glitches" would become—until the monsters finally manifested.

  So whatever you do—never respond.