Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Such capriciousness—such starkly contrasting appearances between day and night. Gazing at Selection Manager Su’s bloodshot eyes, Trainee 44, who had just begun to feel a flicker of hope, now confronted the supernatural scenario head-on for the first time.

He stopped screaming entirely, trembling violently beneath the scythe. He couldn’t fathom what this otherworldly being would do if it grew more excited by its own proclamation—or what gruesome death it might inflict upon him.

Before arriving on this strange, fantastical island, he’d been nothing more than an ordinary university student.

At the peak of his trembling, Trainee 44 felt the creature’s gaze sweep over him, as though deliberating where to make the first incision.

Finally, his survival instinct briefly overrode fear and cowardice. He raised his hand, shoved the scythe away from his throat with all his strength, rolled off the bed in one fluid motion, and fled the dormitory barefoot.

Su Ximu—who had been waiting for Trainee 44’s next move so he could play along—relaxed slightly. This was his first time handling such a task, but fortunately, Trainee 44 had accurately interpreted his visual cues and begun fleeing.

The hallway was lined with surveillance cameras. To maximize Trainee 44’s screen time, the black-cloaked, scarred Grim Reaper remained motionless for a full three seconds before raising his scythe and giving chase.

“You dare push me?!”

“Just wait till I catch you—hmph!”

Su Ximu continued mimicking his colleagues, delivering hollow threats.

Hearing this, the barefoot, brown-haired boy sprinted even faster down the hallway—his speed rivaling that of someone whose pants were on fire.

Their chase led them to the staircase. Just as Trainee 44 instinctively lifted his foot to descend and hide, an invisible air barrier violently repelled him, sending him crashing to the floor. A jolt of electric pain shot through his limbs, leaving him pale and utterly drained of remaining strength.

Su Ximu recalled this was precisely where his downstairs colleague had ended yesterday’s horror prank with another trainee.

Yet when he caught up, Trainee 44 still looked petrified. As Su Ximu approached, the trainee desperately struggled and clung to his calf. “I really have no strength left—please just make it quick! I’ll do *anything*!”

Adding some drama?

Su Ximu understood.

He looked down, tried to free his trapped leg—but failed.

Witnessing Trainee 44’s convincingly wretched performance, the young man sighed inwardly. Every profession has its hardships.

As trainees, before debuting, they not only practiced daily but also seized every opportunity to gain screen time.

That earlier fall onto the floor—even from a distance, Su Ximu imagined Trainee 44’s backside must be excruciatingly sore.

Within his capabilities, Su Ximu was more than willing to help trainees striving relentlessly toward their dreams.

So he lowered his head, forced out a chilling laugh, and spoke grimly: “Really? *Anything*?”

“Heh heh heh… You said it yourself…”

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the small case of red body paint for his eyes, and retrieved the magnetic brush from inside the lid.

Trainee 44, now completely limp and sprawled on the floor, closed his eyes—resigned to his fate.

He could feel the damp brush tracing something across his face—perhaps some kind of contract.

The brushing didn’t last long. Soon, he heard the creature’s footsteps recede.

Then came the faint creak of a door being pushed open.

Seconds later, another terrified scream echoed.

Trainee 44 lay sprawled like a starfish on the polished hallway floor, too exhausted to care about the outside world anymore.

For from this moment on, he had sold his soul to the devil…

The next unfortunate victim chosen by the creature followed nearly identical steps: dashing to the end of the hallway, lifting a foot to descend the stairs—only to be repelled by the invisible electric air barrier, losing all will to resist.

Another wave of grim laughter. The soft whisper of a brush against skin.

He knew another poor soul now lay beside him, sharing his fate.

Together, they had sold their souls to the supernatural being.

After what felt like an eternity—and once the creature had gathered three victims—it pulled out its phone and snapped photos of them lying motionless on the floor.

It taunted them freely: “Don’t worry—I’ll hand these photos and videos over to the production team too. The edited footage will definitely be effective.”

Eventually, the terrifying youth—transformed from daytime Selection Manager Su into the nocturnal, scythe-wielding Grim Reaper—returned to his own dormitory.

The character ‘Wang’ (King) marked on his forehead, his mustache downturned—he probably looked something like that now.

?

This… appearance?

***

The next morning, Su Ximu stood by the half-open window, speaking on the phone with “Third Brother.”

“Yeah, Third Brother, I’m doing fine here. You’re so busy with work—don’t worry about me.” The young man’s voice carried a tinge of guilt; he’d just remembered he hadn’t yet told “Third Brother” about his job change.

Unexpectedly, Su Jianglou brought it up next: “Xiao Mu, about that *Tonight’s Big Star* production team you mentioned last time—I looked into it the past couple days. The show’s chief director used to work with Second Brother.”

The implication hung unspoken: *Xiao Mu, you wouldn’t want to work there and accidentally run into Second Brother, would you?*

Su Ximu wasn’t particularly keen—but he was already employed. And so far, he felt he was managing well, with no intention of job-hopping again anytime soon.

Then he heard “Third Brother” add: “But later, Second Brother cut ties completely. Said his taste was too poor—afraid it might be contagious. Xiao Mu, if you really want to change jobs, Third Brother will help you find one.”

Hearing this, Su Ximu blinked—suddenly feeling less anxious. They say entertainment is a small world; since “Second Brother” worked in the industry, surely everyone knew each other, at least superficially.

Familiarity was one thing—but “Second Brother” might never actually show up.

Gradually, while he wouldn’t actively seek out “Second Brother,” he also realized constantly avoiding the issue wasn’t sustainable.

He set a deadline: the end of this month. If he still hadn’t returned to his original world by then, he resolved—he would confess everything to “Big Brother,” “Second Brother,” and “Third Brother”: *He wasn’t actually their younger brother!*

As the routine check-in call drew to a close, Su Jianglou asked casually: “Xiao Mu, how are things lately with that friend of yours?”

Was that person still trying to take his doll away?

Su Ximu paused, then answered seriously: “Very good. We get along very well.”

Su Jianglou nodded.

Good. That person had just signed his own death warrant.

He’d deal with him after this busy period was over.

Hanging up the phone, Su Ximu picked up his small shovel and tended to his large potted plant.

The morning air on the island was fresh. The young man sniffed lightly, detecting a faint metallic scent in the air today.

He thought it might be due to a plumbing issue somewhere in the dormitory building.

After caring for his mushrooms, he returned to his dorm and picked up his phone.

In the work group chat for "Tonight’s Big Star," the supervisor @-mentioned everyone, announcing that before the initial evaluations, the number of trainees had decreased from 104 to 101.

It was said that three trainees had suddenly fallen ill overnight and had no choice but to pull out of the competition.

At the same time, the assistant director also @-mentioned the five dormitory selection officers in the group, indicating that after the initial evaluations, the trainees would face their first elimination.

By then, close to half of the trainees would be eliminated.

This also meant that after the first elimination round, the production team would only need two or three dormitory selection officers, which would be more than enough.

The rest would naturally be let go.

"Assistant Director: If you don’t step up your game, learn to be smarter. At your age, your work standards are still so poor—sooner or later, you’ll be optimized out of society! If you’re not excellent, learn from colleagues who truly excel at their jobs. Just like @Third-Floor Dormitory Selection Officer Su Ximu—he’s the role model you should all follow!"

"Props Team Xiao Liu: I think the director is absolutely right!"

"Makeup Team Xiao Wang: The director’s words hit me like a bolt of lightning, snapping me out of it. Starting today, I’ll also learn from @Third-Floor Dormitory Selection Officer Su Ximu!"

"Editing Team Vincent: The director is swamped yet still makes time to care about our work. That’s truly commendable."

"Logistics Team Blue 242: Thumbs up.jpg"

"Assistant Director: @everyone, ahem, during work hours, just call me assistant director."

Suddenly being held up as a model employee and praised in the group chat, Su Ximu was both taken aback and honored. After reflecting on his work performance over the past two days, he concluded that it was likely because he had recruited several trainees to film behind-the-scenes footage the previous night.

Mainly, these trainees had secretly tipped him off, and he didn’t want to avoid playing favorites.

The young man, who was a man of few words, flushed with embarrassment from the praise from his colleagues in the group chat. He quietly posted a message:

"Third-Floor Dormitory Selection Officer Su Ximu: Thanks, all! I’ll continue to work hard!"

With the support and encouragement from the assistant director and his colleagues, Su Ximu felt that his current work approach was on the right track.

So, as night fell once again, he put on his cloak, picked up his prop scythe, and headed out.

The next day, the assistant director announced in the group chat that another nine trainees had dropped out of the program overnight due to health issues.

Su Ximu speculated that these trainees might have had trouble adjusting to the environment.

Fortunately, the trainees on the third floor seemed fine so far. Perhaps it was because they had been practicing dance for years and were in great shape.

However, Su Ximu thought that his dedicated attention might have played a small role. Worried that the trainees might catch a cold at night, he made sure to tweak the AC settings of the central air conditioning on the third floor at least twice every night.

By the day of the initial evaluations, only 92 trainees remained in the program.

With time to kill, Su Ximu went to help Group Leader Blue 242 in the logistics team and took the opportunity to observe the trainees’ makeup application process and the evaluation proceedings.

It was also his first time meeting the four mentors of "Tonight’s Big Star."

The dance mentor, Jason, was said to be a winner of a major street dance competition.

The vocal and rap mentor, Emily, showcased her vocal prowess by shattering a table full of wine glasses with her high notes, leaving even Su Ximu, who was helping hand out props, pretty impressed.

Then there was the creative mentor, Zhao Yiming, who performed an original piano composition at the start of the program.

Before Zhao Yiming began playing, Group Leader Blue 242 plugged Su Ximu’s ears. During the performance, Su Ximu tried to listen briefly but immediately felt discomfort, as if countless voices were whispering in his ears.

Finally, there was the resident mentor, Bai Bai, who usually supervised the trainees’ practice sessions and also served as the host.

After performing their individual stages, the four mentors sat in the audience, watching the trainees perform one team after another.

Their faces were stern, and their expectations were high.

While watching the trainees’ performances, they were constantly frowning.

After all the trainees had performed, Bai Bai took the microphone and said sternly, "Every one of you! None of you deserve an A!"

"Your skills are garbage! Such dull performances won’t attract any audience!"

Then, he announced the names of five trainees who received a B grade, among whom was Wang Xingxing—the first name called.

He then announced twenty trainees who received a C grade.

The remaining sixty-plus trainees all received an E—the lowest grade!

Having been mentally drained by the creative mentor’s piano piece, all the trainees stood dazed and silent, like puppets on strings, numb and obedient.

The man in a bright performance outfit, holding the microphone, finally gave a slight, satisfied nod.

He projected the thumbnails of five dance videos onto the large screen on stage and continued, "These are the stages you’ll prepare for the preliminary round."

"Since there are exactly five B-grade trainees, from left to right, step up and pick your routine."

"As B-grade trainees from the initial evaluations, you not only have the privilege of choosing first but also get to decide who will join you in performing the dance."

"However, be warned—for the same dance, you’ll be obvious competitors in the preliminary round."

"Lastly…" the handsome man’s voice turned eerie, "a friendly reminder: choose your dance carefully. Sometimes, a performance that’s too bland won’t attract votes from the audience."

"First up, Trainee No. 43, Wang Xingxing, step forward and choose your dance and opponents. Collect the related props from the props team."

Wang Xingxing forced himself to turn and look at the large screen on stage.

When he saw the thumbnails of the five dance videos, his pupils constricted sharply.

A joint-pierced human puppet

A clown with limbs twisted grotesquely

A black swan with broken wings

A boy looking back with his head turned 360 degrees

A ballet dancer bleeding from the feet, leaving red footprints on tiptoe

He had no choice but to select the ballet dancer.

Wang Xingxing quickly made his decision and worked to ignore the equally horrified looks from the other trainees as they turned their heads. He first selected his four teammates.

Only then did he select the remaining dozen or so opponents.

In the early stages of the competition, at the very least, the program team wouldn’t eliminate more than half of them in the same group all at once.

At the side of the stage, Su Ximu, who had already finished his tasks, also looked strangely at the terrifying covers displayed on the large screen.

Finally, like he'd thought of something, his eyes lit up as inspiration struck.

The show's creative team had come up with something truly novel by combining dance with magic tricks.

He couldn’t immediately figure out what props would be needed for the first four dances, but the last one was simple. He could easily help the already exhausted trainees bring the props back to their dormitory.

After the initial evaluation ended, Wang Xingxing returned to the dormitory and immediately received a small gift from Selection Manager Su.

Over the past few days, the trainees on the third floor were still somewhat scared of Selection Manager Su. However, without them even realizing it, their wariness and defensiveness had begun to fade.

Selection Manager Su would greet them with a smile every time he saw them during the day.

Then, at night, he would continue to chase them down the corridors while wearing his cloak.

Su Ximu had given gifts not just to Wang Xingxing—the other third-floor trainees selected by Wang Xingxing also received one.

The gifts were several small blood packs, each the size of grapes.

The youth handing them over explained, "Put this blood pack in your shoe, and when you dance, it will create a bleeding effect."

Wang Xingxing was taken aback. "Will that really work?"

Would the weird mentors be that easy to fool?

The young man nodded seriously, his tone somewhat strange. "Of course it will. Had none of you thought of that? Otherwise, what props did Mentor Bai ask you to get?"

Did they really expect someone to chop off their toes and bleed for real?

Author's Note:

Little Mu: We run a proper talent show! Not a true crime segment!