Pretend to be crazy

Shen Yan was silent.

He was thinking.

He wanted to speak but hesitated.

He was 24 years old, male, and had the unusual condition of being a “painless mother.”

It was bizarre.

The small ghost behind him was cold to the touch, drenched in water, and exuded a strange salty sea smell. It clung tightly to him, giving him a suffocating feeling, as though being dragged to the bottom of the sea.

Shen Yan patted his hand. ” how did you end up like this?”

Falson leaned in a little closer, not asking how or why he faked his death, simply happy. “You still remember me.”

Shen Yan smiled. “Why wouldn’t I? You go on ahead, I’ll get you a clean change of clothes.”

Falson didn’t move.

He tightened his grip on Shen Yan’s arm.

Shen Yan’s chest ached from the pressure. The kid looked thin and weak, not even as tall as him, but surprisingly strong.

Falson asked softly, “Is it really just about getting clothes?”

Falson understood that his thoughts were different from others’. He could understand people’s disgust, rejection, or fear towards him, but he wouldn’t accept it.

He needed love. He needed his mother to be his mother. So, whether she was willing to accept him or not, she must accept him.

And the way to make her compromise was simple.

Coerce and coax, then add a little bit of pitiful pleading. Human desires were limited—just give her what she wanted.

He cuddled up to Shen Yan, rubbing against him lovingly. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Shen Yan remained silent for a few seconds, then suddenly twisted Falson’s elbow. He winced in pain and released his grip, allowing Shen Yan to turn and face him.

A flash of light gleamed in Falson’s hand. Shen Yan grabbed his wrist, struggling to control him. Falson struggled, Shen Yan suppressed him. When the situation calmed down, Shen Yan slowly glanced at the knife he had been holding.

“Mother?” Shen Yan raised an eyebrow. “Little freak, is this how you treat your mother?”

Falson gazed at him with admiration, two faint blushes appearing on his cheeks. He loosened his grip, the knife dropping onto the bed.

Relaxing, he surrendered with a slight unevenness in his breath, “Sorry, I won’t do it again.”

Shen Yan let go of him, his wrist marked with a few red marks from being gripped too tightly. Falson raised his arm, admiring the marks Shen Yan had left on him, grinning foolishly. “Mother, it hurts so much. Is this considered domestic violence?”

“Call me ‘brother’ or ‘Shen Yan’. If I hear that word again, I’ll throw you out to feed the fish,” Shen Yan said, tossing a towel at his face. “Go wash up. You’re filthy.”

Falson left the room.

Before leaving, he playfully hung onto the doorframe, smiling and looking back at him, telling him not to run around, in case he couldn’t find him.

He looked good, fitting popular beauty standards, intentionally widening his eyes to appear innocent and pitiful, but his every action and word felt sinister, sending chills down one’s spine.

Shen Yan waved dismissively in agreement while changing the bed sheets, thinking to himself whether he should run again.

Warren was with the stowaways, so he couldn’t go back. Ruan Zhixian and the other spectators were on the deck, so he couldn’t go there either. The only safe place was this room.

That was true until Falson appeared.

This kid had grown up in a twisted, unhealthy environment. He was the biggest mystery in the story—he could smile and call someone “mother” one moment and the next be ready to stab them.

He wasn’t entirely healthy either; he had undergone body modifications, similar to Warren, but with more mechanical enhancements.

At this early stage of the story, his mechanical modifications were only at 35%, but that was enough to deal with an ordinary person like Shen Yan.

Just like earlier, the knife he had was a diversion—a tool to test whether Shen Yan was a suitable mother.

If Falson really wanted to escape, Shen Yan wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

Everywhere was full of weirdos, and there was nowhere to run.

Fine.

Shen Yan decided to go with the flow.

The food provided to the crew was very limited—just a dry, small piece of black bread, not enough to sustain an adult.

Especially since he now had a sixteen-year-old kid with him, one still growing.

His younger siblings were about the same age, mischievous and annoying.

Thinking about his family, Shen Yan felt much lighter and left the room to find food.

He casually befriended a crew member, gave him some money, and asked him to bring something down—it wasn’t a big deal.

There was no paper currency in the room, just a terminal, and no message was left. It didn’t matter—he’d be back soon anyway.

But he didn’t come back.

The crew member he had casually grabbed was one of Ruan Zhixian’s people.

What a coincidence. Impressive. Ha ha.

He calmly poured himself a glass of alcohol. The liquid shimmered in the glass. He raised the glass and clinked it lightly with Ruan Zhixian’s, the clear sound of the clink ringing in the air. Shen Yan, holding it by the base of the glass, drank it down in one go.

The alcohol was strong, burning as it went down, and Shen Yan felt lost from the heat, trying to maintain a calm exterior as he put the glass down and smiled at Ruan Zhixian, taking the initiative.

“Did you like the gift I prepared for you?”

The room was huge, each one meticulously decorated and themed. This one had a dark, CEO-style aesthetic—the walls and ceiling painted black, with cold and minimalist furniture. Even with the curtains drawn open, letting in the light, there was still an inescapable chill in the air.

Ruan Zhixian fit perfectly with this style.

He was lost in the darkness, with a beam of light casting sharp shadows across his features, giving his face a slightly dangerous look.

A defused grenade sat on the table. He pushed it toward Shen Yan with his long fingers, his dark eyes staring at him unwaveringly. “Not exactly liked. Just… a bit unexpected.”

Shen Yan gestured for him to continue.

Ruan Zhixian didn’t follow up on that topic. He smirked. “More interesting than the gift is you, brother.”

“Acting weak and useless, pretending to be my neighbor, pretending to like me, messing up my plans,” he paused before continuing, “Now you’re not pretending anymore, saying you want to play a game with me… why?”

Shen Yan had been listening attentively at first but lost interest as he spoke, glancing away and fiddling with the little bomb on the table.

The atmosphere, once not very lively, grew even more suffocating.

He flipped the bomb over, nudging it toward Ruan Zhixian, his eyes cold as he stared at him with a hint of disappointment.

“You should know all this. Why ask me about it?”

Ruan Zhixian paused for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed, filling Shen Yan’s glass again. “Part of the game?”

Shen Yan winked at him. “What do you think I am?”

Ruan Zhixian thought for a moment, then joked, “A prophet who knows the course of my life but is forced to entangle with me, unable to escape this situation. Everything you do is to leave me, the terrorist. At its core…”

“Brother, you’re a good person, right?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, they both burst into laughter.

Shen Yan patted him on the shoulder, wiping away the tears from laughing, and refilled both their glasses.

“Exactly right. Cheers to good people.”

They clinked glasses again and drank in one go.

Shen Yan had a good tolerance for alcohol, and so did Ruan Zhixian. The original text even mentioned that he could drink three of Warren’s group under the table.

But Shen Yan always felt Ruan Zhixian’s alcohol tolerance wasn’t that great. Warren was a military academy student and didn’t drink; Blaze, who had constant brain modifications, had to control his intake, drinking only a small sip on special occasions.

Falson, despite having the best alcohol tolerance, didn’t drink much, as he disliked the taste, only doing so when necessary for a mission.

Shen Yan filled his glass again, drinking too quickly, starting to feel a bit dizzy, but the light-headedness only made him feel more excited.

He lifted the glass, and through the liquid and the glass, the distorted and deformed image of Ruan Zhixian appeared, amplifying the unreal feeling, as though he were someone from another world.

He stood up, pressing his palms on the black marble table, his shirt sleeves rolled halfway up, veins snaking up his hand, giving him a combination of violence and elegance.

His shadow loomed over Shen Yan, still smiling, but his eyes were filled with a cold, barren look.

“Brother, do you know what I hate the most?”

Shen Yan raised his hand, counting carefully, “Single-celled organisms that can be seen through at a glance, stupid white sweethearts who cry and are overly moved after two meals, and…”

Shen Yan leaned back and quickly kissed him, making Ruan Zhixian’s pupils tremble, his muscles tense.

He sat back down, smiling as he continued, “And people who, with just a few sweet words, give up everything and become brainwashed by love.”

“Am I right?”

Ruan Zhixian stared at him, stood up, and slowly rubbed the spot where he had kissed him with his palm.

“You’re absolutely right, brother. I don’t want you to become such a person. If you are…”

He balled up his handkerchief and tossed it aside, looking expressionlessly at him, “What do you think I should do?”

Shen Yan seemed to feel no malice in his tone, and casually said, “You’re asking me about something you haven’t figured out yet? Please, from that perspective, I’m the victim. What do you expect me to say?”

He chuckled at something amusing.

“Punish me by making me live in a fancy mansion? Punish me by feeding me until I never experience hardship again? Or punish me by making me live a carefree life with only joy?” He took a sip of his drink and shot a provocative glance at Ruan Zhixian. “Is that okay?”

Ruan Zhixian smiled, “If all you want is that, I can fulfill that right now.”

He moved behind him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed lightly.

“Brother, you don’t need to struggle so hard. If you just nod right now and say you need it, I can hand you everything, tenfold or a hundredfold.”

“You’re very special, and you understand me well, so I don’t want you standing against me, and I don’t want you to be involved in this and put your life at risk… It’s not worth it, I couldn’t bear it.”

Ruan Zhixian looked down at him carefully, observing every little change in his expression.

He found no fear or desire in Shen Yan’s face.

Nothing.

Shen Yan lazily lowered his eyes, his eyelashes casting a small shadow beneath them, merging with the slight darkness of his under-eye circles.

Had he not rested properly since the gladiator arena?

No.

He just didn’t trust him and didn’t believe his promises could be fulfilled, so he wasn’t tempted.

Ruan Zhixian opened his terminal and quickly brought up four or five pages, which he presented in front of Shen Yan.

The latest model of a hover car had smooth lines, and its official page displayed it from every angle, showing its beauty. But what matched its beauty was its price.

Shen Yan propped his cheek on his hand, watching Ruan him effortlessly purchase it in full, entering details under his name.

At least it showed that he had thoroughly investigated him—he didn’t even need his consent to buy a car.

Afterward, Ruan Zhixian repeated the process, buying two houses in District 13 under Shen Yan’s name, a few impressive watches, and a bunch of smaller but still valuable items.

“Do you like this?”

“The color suits you well, brother.”

“As for the decoration, you don’t have to worry. I’ll get whatever style you like.”

“What else do you want?”

“I’m sincere, brother.”

Ruan Zhixian kept going for almost half an hour, trying to get the expression he wanted to see on Shen Yan’s face.

Shen Yan yawned.

Ruan Zhixian’s fingers twitched nervously.

Shen Yan impatiently waved his hand, pushing all the pages away, then reached out and pulled at his tie.

He wrapped it around his hand twice and gave it a sharp pull.

Ruan Zhixian was forced to lean forward, his hand bracing against the table for balance, his body half-turned, and the distance between them was now very close.

It was yet another moment perfect for a kiss.

Ruan Zhixian stared at Shen Yan, his heart pounding.

He still couldn’t move him. Millions of dollars spent, and to him, it was like worthless paper.

But he must care about something, or else he wouldn’t be looking at him like that.

What was it?

He was very eager to know, but at the same time, he was worried that the answer Shen Yan gave wouldn’t be what he wanted.

He’d be disappointed.

His other hand subtly reached toward his waist.

Shen Yan spoke, each word slow and deliberate, “Ruan Zhixian, you really disappoint me.”

Ruan Zhixian’s heartbeat skipped a beat.

How did he guess what he was about to say?

What did he feel disappointed by? Because he hadn’t played his game properly?

In the brief moment of Ruan Zhixian’s distraction, Shen Yan loosened the tie and pushed him away roughly, standing up to leave, but Ruan Zhixian grabbed him and pulled him back.

He seized his wrist and pinned him down on the table. Shen Yan kicked him, trying to trip him, but he only staggered slightly, not affected much—he had already seized the advantage when he first grabbed him.

Shen Yan’s strength wasn’t enough to overpower him, and after a brief struggle, they reached a clear winner.

Ruan Zhixian, like a controlling officer, held Shen Yan’s wrist behind his back, pressing down on him. Shen Yan was a little out of breath, his back rising and falling like a small mountain.

The bottle of alcohol was knocked over during the scuffle, spilling its strong liquid across the table. Shen Yan’s upper body soaked in it, his hair irritating his eyes. He blinked hard and suddenly smiled, showing his small fang.

Ruan Zhixian’s fingertips itched.

As the unquestionable superior, he should have the right to dispose of him.

He forcibly pushed his finger into Shen Yan’s mouth, and the sharp tooth immediately embedded in his flesh. He felt the pain through his finger, the sharpness of Shen Yan’s teeth countering his itch perfectly.

Just right.

The metallic taste of blood mixed with the alcohol as Shen Yan stared at Ruan Zhixian’s eyes, grinding his fingers with his teeth.

How cute.

Ruan Zhixian couldn’t help but move closer, kissing him, genuinely happy. “Brother, are you a little dog?”

“No.”

Shen Yan turned his head, spitting out his finger, laughing lightly.

“Even if I were, I wouldn’t want to gnaw on your boring old bone.”

He eventually managed to get him to leave.

Ruan Zhixian believed his lie and thought there was a game specially prepared for him.

Shen Yan told him that there was more than one player and that the game had already started, warning him that if he didn’t join soon, others would claim the final prize.

He also said things like, “I have high hopes for you,” “I think you’ll win,” “You’ll love the game’s ending.”

The room was empty. The cleaning robot silently swept up the glass shards mixed with spilled alcohol.

Shen Yan changed into a loose sweatshirt and black pants, standing in front of the window, expressionless as he looked out.

If he were truly a crazy, chaotic person, there would probably be a shot from below, with ominous music in the background, showing a devilish smile.

Then he would drink the vodka in one gulp and walk into the darkness.

But he wasn’t.

Since pretending to be from the dark world with superpowers in the second year of middle school and scaring his friends to the point of almost blowing up the school, he never played such roles again.

That rainy day ruined his crazy dreams.

Thankfully, the skill of pretending to be something he wasn’t had deeply embedded itself in his bones and hadn’t faded in over a decade.

SVIP rooms usually didn’t have cameras, but who knew if Ruan Zhixian had left any behind to monitor him.

He leaned closer to the glass, breathed on it, and drew a smiley face.

There was no real game. But since Ruan Zhixian came to him so eagerly, if he didn’t design something interesting for him, he might be shot dead by Ruan Zhixian before the rescue team arrived, once he realized he’d been played.

He added two sharp devil horns to the smiley face.

Time to count his cards.

He had people he could rely on, like the explosive and unpredictable Warren, the seemingly obedient but possibly troublemaking and paranoid Falson, the two brilliant minds he met in the lab, the bribed security guards, Fei Shen and his cohorts, and the tangled web of forces on the ship, from District 13 to District 7…

A complex web of relationships started to form.

Ruan Zhixian was placed at the center of this web, and as it spread, the roles of everyone involved became clearer.

Shen Yan wiped the devil face off the glass, the fog disappearing, then opened his terminal and sent a message to the researcher.

He had a wicked little plan.

Ruan Zhixian might get angry.

But he would be very satisfied.

Such bad luck!

The researchers in white lab coats were urgently trying to repair the documents destroyed in the fire from the previous night, all of them too busy to lift their heads.

The two individuals, Dis and Dait, who had been hijacked by the bandits that night, wished they could find a hole in the ground to hide.

After returning from the Monster House, the captain of the guard team had talked to them and taken their statements. At that time, they were still dreaming about promotions and wealth, firmly believing the so-called deputy director’s words and even helping to cover things up.

The captain, a habitual liar, did not expect much from them, but this particular test subject posed a huge threat to the ship’s normal operation. They would have to worry for an entire day if they didn’t catch him before the rescue team arrived. So, the captain used more extreme measures, and only then did Dis and Dait realize they had been duped.

The information they provided was minimal. The suspect was cautious and had worn gloves and a mask. Any traces he left behind were thoroughly cleaned.

Their intelligence profiler, based on Dis and Dait’s descriptions, produced a sketch with only a few identifiable features: deep double eyelids, long eyelashes, and a pair of beautiful eyes that looked great when smiling.

It helped eliminate some suspects, at least.

After the guard team left, Dis and Dait felt vaguely isolated. Whispers filled the lab, saying that if it weren’t for the two of them, no one would be working overtime during their break.

They briefly shared the modified truth with the guard team, casting themselves as innocent victims, but kept quiet with their colleagues in the lab. They couldn’t afford to lose face.

Quietly, they took on more work, secretly cursing the annoying bandits to death.

During afternoon break, when everyone else had left, Dis and Dait stayed behind to continue cleaning up.

The lab’s instruments had been completely destroyed. Without the usual sounds of machinery running, the silence deepened their regret.

After this incident, promotions were out of the question, and they were likely to be fired.

Even though it wasn’t their fault, they were being forced to take responsibility.

Dis, growing more upset, slammed his fist on the destroyed console and looked at Dait.

“What do you plan to do after this?”

Dait continued working without pause, “It depends. If this incident doesn’t get me a penalty record, finding another job shouldn’t be difficult.”

Dis’ resume wasn’t as impressive as Dait’s, and losing this job would make it nearly impossible to find one with the same pay.

He hit the charred console again, growling, “That damned bandit better be in hiding. If I catch him—”

Ding ding.

Both of their terminals buzzed simultaneously.

The sender was an encrypted number.

They exchanged a glance. Dait nodded at Dis. Nervously swallowing, Dis had a bad premonition: was it the bandit? Was he trying to deceive them again?

With a sarcastic sneer, he opened the message.

It was a screenshot of a transaction record, showing a transfer of one million from the Rose Research Institute.

Dis stared at the number in disbelief, checking over and over the zeros after the 1.

It was indeed a million.

Enough for him to live comfortably for some time even after being fired.

Dis quickly started thinking about how to spend the money, while Dait remained cautious. “The captain of the guard team is good at forgery. This screenshot may not be trustworthy. Check your account’s backend.”

Suddenly realizing, Dis quickly checked his account.

A cold breath escaped him.

It was real!

The transfer had been completed just three minutes ago!

The two of them, elated, quickly received another message.

“Phase two of the mission begins. The captain of the guard team is one of ours. His team will cooperate with your actions. Go to the nearest ventilation shaft, climb to the end, and Test Subject H762 is in the third-to-last room.”

“If possible, hide your researcher identity. Pretend to be my friend. Tell them I’m being held captive by this man.”

(Image attached)

“This mission is crucial. Be safe.”

His lover was gone.

Warren sat on the bed, the cramped room so small that standing was difficult. He occupied most of the small bed alone.

But he felt empty.

Just a moment ago, someone had been beside him, their shoulders touching, sharing sweet love stories. But now, the cold room was all that remained.

Without Shen Yan, time seemed harder to endure than the three years in the lab. 

He stared at the bread on the floor, his expression dark and terrifying.

Shen Yan had said that their current identities were dangerous, and they couldn’t appear on deck for now. After the ship docked, they could buy new identities on the black market, with the money already prepared.

Shen Yan had considered everything so thoroughly. Even without him, he would be able to live a normal life after they disembarked.

Everything he did was for their future, which seemed so full of promise.

But without him, all those plans for the future would lose their meaning.

So who took him?

A sharp pain twisted in his mind. Warren slammed his head against the wall, his breath quickening.

He tried to stay calm, to analyze the situation, to find his lover, but everything before him was blurring. The bread on the floor seemed to grow mouths, mocking him with loud, sharp laughter.

“Useless! Useless! Useless!”

“Your wife ran away! Ha ha!”

“Shen Yan never loved you! He’s scared of you! He ran away! Ha ha!”

He punched again, shaking the room. The thin iron floor gave way beneath him, and the bread was squashed flat.

But the voices didn’t stop. Warren, like a trapped beast, paced the room, grabbing his head and slamming it into the wall. The dent in the wall deepened with each blow.

Just as his last shred of sanity was about to fade, a cautious knock on the door interrupted.

The mocking voices ceased instantly.

He kept banging his head, stiffly turning to face the door. His expression was emotionless as he gazed at the two people standing in the doorway.

Dis and Dait, startled by his presence, didn’t dare approach, standing at the door ready to flee.

Dait, recalling the one million on his card, and knowing that this mission could lead to a promotion to the Rose Research Institute, suddenly found the courage to approach. He showed Warren the photo sent by the bandit.

“We’re his friends. He’s locked up and doesn’t know where he is. He wants us to—”

Warren suddenly reached out to him. Frightened, Dait stepped back quickly, not saying a word.

Warren furrowed his brows and beckoned him closer.

Realization dawned on Dait, and he took off his terminal, handing it over to Warren.

Warren dialed the number that Shen Yan had given him.

His hands were sweaty, his heart racing as he waited for the call to connect.

Finally, just before the call ended, he heard his lover’s voice.

“Husband.”

Shen Yan spoke quickly, “I can’t talk right now, I’ll send you my location. Hurry, come save me.”

The call ended, leaving only a few words, but Warren felt a weight lift from his heart.

Before, Shen Yan had saved him. Now it was his turn.

On the other side, Shen Yan finished the call and let go of Falson’s mouth, disgustedly wiping the saliva from his palm onto Falson’s body.

“Shen Yan, I don’t want a dad,” Falson stammered, leaning closer, “Wait for two years, and I can be my own dad.”

Shen Yan: “…Creative idea.”