Real world—August 16.
The kill feed detonated the chat channel.
[CHAT]
Player: Did you see that?! Paper Crane got killed by Player 0067!
Player: No way. Paper Crane can’t die.
Player: System announcements don’t lie.
Player: Who the hell is 0067?
Player: Isn’t Paper Crane a Tier 3, Fourth Grade Weaver?!
Player: How did he lose to 0067?
Player: Maybe 0067 is already Tier 3 too.
Player: If he is, why hide it?
Player: Either way… Paper Crane’s dead. This is going to shake everything.
Qi Heng stared at the messages until the words stopped being words and became noise.
Huang Yanyan swallowed hard. “If Paper Crane’s dead… does that mean we can finally breathe?”
Qi Heng didn’t answer. Not because he didn’t want to.
Because something else was pressing in at the edges of his thoughts.
Paper Crane had survived too much.
A man like that didn’t go down clean.
And in the Endless Sea, the worst part of a monster was always what it left behind.
“Go home,” Qi Heng said finally.
Huang Yanyan blinked. “What?”
“It’s almost dinner.” His gaze flicked to the road. “Your family will notice if you’re gone. And I’m not letting you get dragged into trouble because you chased mine.”
Huang Yanyan’s lips pressed tight, but she didn’t argue. In the Endless Sea, her identity was a noble daughter. Her freedom had limits.
She looked once toward the forest—toward where the Investigator’s paper spirit had been pointing—then turned away.
Before she climbed into the carriage, she hesitated. “Should we contact Player 0067?”
Qi Heng shook his head. “Not yet.”
Huang Yanyan frowned. “Why not? He killed Paper Crane. That’s the biggest lead we’ve had.”
“And that’s exactly why.” Qi Heng kept his voice low. “I’m Violet Eye’s apprentice. If I suddenly reach out to a stranger who just took down a Tier 3 Weaver, every set of eyes in the faction turns my way.”
Huang Yanyan’s expression tightened, but she understood. “So we wait.”
“We watch,” Qi Heng corrected. “Then we move.”
Huang Yanyan nodded once and left.
Qi Heng stayed behind, alone with the wind and a chat channel full of celebration that felt a little too early.
—
I was sitting on the ground when my heartbeat finally remembered how to slow down.
The Blue Emerald Forest had gone quiet again, like it had never screamed, never bled, never tried to swallow us whole.
Skye crouched beside me and wrapped a strip of cloth around my left arm with efficient hands. The fabric was clean. My wound wasn’t.
“It’s going to scar,” she said.
“Everything scars,” I muttered.
She didn’t laugh.
The cut on my cheek burned every time I breathed. My vision was fine—barely—but the thought of how close that paper blade had come to my eye made my stomach twist.
“I almost lost it,” I said.
Skye’s eyes flicked up. “Your eye?”
“Yeah.”
“Good thing you didn’t.” Her voice stayed light, but there was an edge under it. “You need both.”
I glanced at the black ash scattered over the forest floor.
What was left of Paper Crane looked like someone had burned a stack of letters and then ground the remains into the dirt.
Except the smell wasn’t smoke.
It was ink.
And something sour beneath it.
“He was stronger than the rumors,” I said.
Skye’s mouth tightened. “He was also scared.”
I looked at her.
Skye tapped the ash with the toe of her boot. “We forced him to call back all his paper spirits.”
Right.
We’d finally done it.
Skye’s black-dragon power had been the key—not as a flashy trump card, but as a threat Paper Crane couldn’t ignore.
The moment Skye turned his paper spirits to dust, Paper Crane stopped playing at distance. He pulled everything back. Every fragment. Every hidden piece of himself.
He’d had to.
Otherwise he’d be bled dry one clone at a time.
And that was when I threw the Discharge-Ready Lightning Orb.
A caged storm, detonating all at once.
His Shadow Realm clone hadn’t even had time to scream before it tore apart into burnt scraps.
Skye watched me for a moment, then said softly, “You’re covered in blood.”
“Thanks. I hadn’t noticed.”
She tilted her head. “If Sherry sees you like this, she’ll faint.”
“Then you catch her,” I said.
Skye’s lips curved, brief and sharp. “Not my job. You’re the one who keeps turning my life into a mess.”
“Excuse me,” I said. “I was kidnapped by the Endless Sea. You’re the one who decided to keep me.”
Skye’s eyes glittered. “Keep?”
“Sure,” I said. “You’re basically my stepmother now. Strict, terrifying, and constantly disappointed.”
Skye stared at me like she was deciding whether to set me on fire.
She snorted. “Shut up, Rhine.”
I smiled, and the cut on my cheek pulled tight. Ow.
I reached down and grabbed the charred paper bundle that used to be Paper Crane’s body.
It crumbled in my glove.
[SYSTEM]
Stamina Enhancement +10%
You obtained: Inscribed Gargoyle Skull
Skye leaned closer. “What did you get?”
I showed her the System prompt, then stuffed the loot into my inventory before the forest could decide to take it back.
Skye looked around warily. “We should leave.”
Agreed.
We headed back toward the manor with the hunting party’s trail still visible in the grass. No one bothered us on the way out, but the forest felt… watchful.
Like it had opinions.
—
Blue Emerald Manor.
Sherry screamed the moment she saw us.
“My lady!” she cried, rushing to Skye first, hands fluttering. “You—your dress—there’s blood—what happened?!”
Skye’s face stayed perfectly calm. “Nothing.”
Sherry stared at the blood anyway. “Nothing is bleeding?”
Skye glanced at me, then back at Sherry. “He got in the way.”
I opened my mouth to protest, then decided it wasn’t worth it.
Sherry spun toward me, eyes wide. “Mr. Rhine! Your face!”
“I’ll live,” I said.
Sherry looked like she wasn’t convinced.
She ordered servants to bring water, bandages, clean clothes, hot towels—half the manor moved because one maid panicked loudly enough.
Skye disappeared into her room.
I made it to mine, shut the door, and finally let my shoulders sag.
I needed sleep.
I needed to not think.
I needed midnight to stop being a word that made my skin crawl.
I washed the blood off my hands, then filled the basin and soaked my arms.
The water felt cold at first… then warm, like it had found the ache in my muscles and decided to cradle it.
[SYSTEM]
Health Recovery +1…
Fatigue reduced.
Pain reduced.
The System wasn’t gentle about anything else, so I took the kindness where I could get it.
I toweled off, changed, and for the first time all day, the room felt quiet.
Something slid into place under the towel.
A corner of white paper, edged with gold.
My chest went tight.
I pulled it free.
The same envelope.
The same weightless, impossible delivery.
Sorrowful Theater.
I hadn’t brought the invitation with me.
I’d locked it away back at Windrest Keep.
And yet here it was, waiting in my room like it had never left.
I checked the time.
11:30 p.m.
My blood went cold.
—
At the exact same moment, Skye was in her room, staring at her own desk.
Her invitation should have been hidden away.
Instead, it lay on top of her book like someone had placed it there with careful hands.
Skye didn’t touch it.
She didn’t need to.
The air itself felt wrong.
Skye whispered, “So it came back.”
She left her room and walked straight for mine.
—
There was a knock.
Not a servant’s knock.
Not Sherry’s frantic knock.
A crisp, deliberate knock.
I opened the door at the same time Skye reached it.
We stared at each other.
Skye blurted, “I was just coming to find you—the Sorrowful Theater invitation showed up again.”
“I was just coming to find you,” I said. “Mine showed up again too.”
We both inhaled.
We both started to speak.
Our voices overlapped, perfectly synchronized.
“Same here,” Skye said.
“Same here,” I said.
Skye’s eyes widened.
So did mine.
[SYSTEM]
Cycle Ended.
You have returned to the real world.
Player Data Sync +3%