October 2. Dusk. Cycle 14—Player World.
Ethan had barely taken off his jacket when someone knocked on his door.
He opened it and found Huang Yanyan standing there with a look that said she’d already decided this was his problem to solve.
She stepped inside, eyes scanning the room with a practised investigator’s speed—and immediately landed on Xueyu.
Xueyu, for her part, performed another flawless bow.
“Hello,” she said sweetly. “Sis-in-law.”
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose.
Huang Yanyan folded her arms. “So… you weren’t joking.”
Ethan didn’t even try to sound convincing. “It’s complicated.”
“Mm.” Huang Yanyan’s gaze flicked between him and Xueyu. “Your family life is none of my business. I’m only here because you made it my business.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “I did?”
“You told my people you had a ‘half-sister.’” She emphasized the words like they tasted weird. “When you’re an official player, random lies tend to become official paperwork.”
Xueyu looked appropriately ashamed, head lowered again.
Ethan said, “I didn’t think you’d take it seriously.”
“I didn’t,” Huang Yanyan replied. “Until my phone started buzzing with ten different versions of the same rumor.”
She glanced at Xueyu, then back at Ethan. “But I’m not here to interrogate her. I’m here to warn you.”
Ethan’s expression shifted. “Warn me about what?”
Huang Yanyan didn’t answer immediately. She pulled out her phone, checked something, and then sighed—tired in a way that had nothing to do with late nights.
“The incident with the foreign players is basically settled,” she said. “The Institute reached a temporary agreement with the New Star side. We got some… advance compensation from the magic world.”
Ethan’s eyes sharpened. “Advance compensation?”
Huang Yanyan nodded once. “Among other things, a batch of True Speech Potion.”
Ethan’s throat tightened. The words sounded simple. The meaning wasn’t.
Huang Yanyan’s voice stayed flat, professional. “You know what it is. The moment an official player completes a mission, they’ll be required to take it and report. No lies. No omissions.”
Xueyu’s shoulders tensed.
Ethan felt his stomach sink.
So that was the Institute’s plan: tighten the leash, make sure no one—no matter how powerful—could hide anything once they wore an official badge.
Huang Yanyan looked directly at him. “Now do you understand why I don’t want to know the details of your half-sister story?”
Ethan didn’t answer.
She continued anyway. “If I know something and I’m forced to drink that potion later, I’ll have to report it. Even if it gets you killed. Even if it gets her taken.”
Xueyu went very still.
Ethan’s fingers curled once at his side.
Huang Yanyan exhaled. “So keep your secrets. I’m not asking. I’m not digging. I’m pretending I never saw her.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out an envelope, then slid it across the table to Ethan.
“If you need help,” she said, “deliver this letter to the person named inside. Don’t ask who he is. Just find him in the Endless Sea.”
Ethan didn’t move. “An Institute contact?”
Huang Yanyan nodded. “He handles regular players. The ones who aren’t officially registered. The Institute uses him to keep things from boiling over.”
Ethan stared at the envelope.
A lifeline… and a warning.
Huang Yanyan stood. “That’s all. I’m going back.”
Ethan walked her to the door. When she stepped into the hallway, she paused and glanced back, voice softer for the first time that night.
“Ethan,” she said, “be careful. The Institute is changing. And once they start using that potion… nobody stays free forever.”
The door shut.
5:40 p.m.—Institute, Susan’s office.
Susan sat behind her desk with dark circles under her eyes, paperwork stacked like a small mountain. She looked up when Ethan entered and gave him a wry smile.
“So,” she said, “you’ve heard about the True Speech Potion.”
Ethan didn’t bother pretending. “Huang Yanyan told me.”
Susan’s expression cooled. “Then you understand what it means.”
“It means the Institute doesn’t trust anyone,” Ethan said.
Susan didn’t deny it. “It means the Institute is terrified.”
She leaned back, rubbing her temple. “The Endless Sea is leaking into our world, and our world is bleeding into the Endless Sea. Players are crossing borders. Demigods are moving. And the people at the top want one thing more than anything else.”
Ethan waited.
“Control,” Susan said.
Ethan’s gaze dropped to the envelope in his pocket. “Yanyan gave me a letter. She said it was for someone inside the Endless Sea.”
Susan nodded. “Good. Use it if you have to.”
She hesitated, then added quietly, “Don’t drag Yanyan into your secrets. Not now. Not with that potion coming.”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “So even telling her the truth would be the most dangerous thing I could do.”
Susan looked at him for a long moment, then spoke like someone choosing her words carefully.
“You’re getting… special, Ethan,” she said. “The more you stand out, the more the Institute will want to put you in a box they can lock.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “And if I refuse?”
Susan’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Then you’d better be strong enough to stay out of reach.”
She sighed and looked down at her notes again—exhausted, but still working.
“And for what it’s worth,” she muttered, half to herself, “I really do envy you. The Endless Sea is terrifying… but it’s also beautiful. Monsters, relics, gods. I want to see it with my own eyes.”
Ethan didn’t reply.
Susan glanced up once more. “Just remember—if you ever need help, you have a door. Use it. And don’t assume your father’s shadow is gone just because he isn’t standing in front of you.”
Ethan’s expression didn’t change.
But the words sank deeper than Susan probably intended.