Lunchtime was approaching. With the aid of his magical glasses, Mu Sichen monitored the movements of He Fei and his colleagues from a secluded spot near the office building, waiting for them to order delivery.

His plan was simple: intercept the delivery rider, take the food, borrow the helmet, and pose as the courier to get inside and swap the dolls. It would likely cost him more money, and the thought of his dwindling savings made his head throb.

As he watched, a female employee dressed in a bold, stylish outfit approached He Fei. Mu Sichen tensed, fearing she might notice the doll’s “hiding” tentacle. Instead, the woman sat right on the armrest of He Fei’s chair and whispered into his ear, “Xiao Fei, you’re working too hard. You should take a break.”

Mu Sichen frowned. It wasn’t jealousy; it was a subtle, unsettling feeling. Her face looked… fake. Not “plastic surgery” fake, but something else—a mechanical stiffness in her gaze and smile.

He Fei, now a bastion of rationality, didn’t even look up. “Just a moment, Sister Su. I need to finish proofreading this page.”

“Sister Su” was undeterred. She leaned closer. “Xiao Fei, aren’t you tired? You’re just an intern; there’s no need to be this serious. Here, I’ll lend you my nap pillow. Have a nice dream.”

He Fei blinked, looking momentarily drowsy. But he reached out and touched the knock-off plushie, and instantly, his eyes cleared. “I don’t usually nap at noon,” he said firmly. “Let’s talk after I finish this.”

Sister Su shot him a venomous glare and stomped back to her desk. Mu Sichen shifted his focus to her. He watched her pull a box from under her desk filled with identical pillows. Each was embroidered with the same pattern: a butterfly’s wings spread in a semi-circle, cradling what looked like a human brain.

The moment Mu Sichen saw the pattern, his mind went numb. He felt himself slipping into a hazy, dreamlike state, losing all sense of time. A beautiful butterfly seemed to flutter before his eyes, beckoning him to sleep.

When he finally snapped awake, it was because of a gnawing hunger. He bolted upright, his body aching, and realized the sky was pitch black.

It was nearly 8:00 PM. He had arrived at noon. What happened to the last eight hours? How did I lose my memory?

“What happened to me during those eight hours?” he asked the glasses.

The gold rims pricked him again, but this time, the drain was massive. He felt utterly depleted. Through the glasses’ playback, he saw that he had done nothing but sit there and sleep. He had been incapacitated just by looking at those “nap pillows.”

That pattern… it was a totem.

A chill ran down his spine. “What happened in He Fei’s office during that time?”

The glasses refused to respond. Mu Sichen remembered the cost: 2,000 energy to put them on and 1,000 per hour. He had 10,000 energy total. He had been wearing them for eight hours while asleep—he was completely tapped out. It appeared the glasses drained his “game energy” even in the real world.

Giving up on the glasses for now, he grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed back to the dorm. He found He Fei sitting at his desk, diligently pre-studying next semester’s textbooks, with the plushie sitting on the shelf.

“You’re back?” He Fei greeted him, setting down his pen.

“Yeah.” Mu Sichen tossed his backpack onto his bed. “How was work today?”

“Fine, nothing special,” He Fei said.

“Nothing strange at all?”

“Strange? I’ve only been there four days. Besides, my ankle is still messed up from when you kicked me out of bed. I have to use a crutch to get to the office!”

Mu Sichen went silent. So He Fei remembered the “incident.”

“But it was my fault for scaring you,” He Fei shrugged. “I don’t blame you for tying me up and throwing me out in a panic. I’m a mature, rational adult. I won’t hold a grudge.”

Mu Sichen stared at him. This roommate was becoming too polite after being influenced by the God.

“Xiao Mu,” He Fei said earnestly, “the most important thing in life is to remain calm and rational. Look at you—you’re so high-strung. How will you survive in society? You need to learn self-control.”

Mu Sichen headed for the shower, exhausted. But then He Fei added, “Actually, something did happen before I started. A guy died from overwork. That’s why they were so desperate for interns.”

Mu Sichen froze. “How did he die?”

“They say he died in his sleep during his lunch break. It’s actually a great company; they provide folding chairs and pillows for mandatory naps. That guy… apparently he just slept more and more every day until he was skin and bones. One day, everyone woke up but him. When the manager pushed him, he just fell over. He’d been dead for an hour.”

The “nap pillows.” The totems. Mu Sichen felt sick. “Did you ever use the pillows?”

“Are you kidding? I’d rather play games. Besides, the pattern on those things is hideous. Looking at them makes me nauseous. Sister Su tried to force one on me, but I couldn’t even look at it without wanting to gag. My little octopus is much better looking.”

He Fei shivered, then turned to gaze at his doll. His expression of disgust smoothed out into one of serene bliss.

It was the exact same reaction Chi Lian and Cheng Xubo had to the original plushie.

“He Fei, can you stop going to that office?”

“I can’t do that. I signed a contract. A rational person keeps their promises. If I broke my word, I wouldn’t be worthy of looking at my octopus!” He Fei looked at the doll again. “You know, one of its tentacles looks particularly… holy today.”

Mu Sichen decided right then not to swap the dolls. That office was a nest for some other power—the butterfly totem. Reality was being infiltrated far faster than he had realized.

He Fei was obsessed, yes. But he was also being protected by Qin Zhou’s power. Until Mu Sichen understood the butterfly, the doll needed to stay with He Fei to act as a shield.

He climbed into bed and saw his “Fake 2.0” doll in his bag. Hundreds of dollars, wasted. Whatever, I’ll use it as a regular pillow, he thought bitterly, stuffing it under his blanket.

He spent the night grinding for money, playing until 2:00 AM. As he went to turn off his phone, he saw a glowing blue light. The “Fake 1.0” was staggering off He Fei’s bed and crawling toward him again. It was getting better at it; it only fell twice this time.

Mu Sichen picked it up and whispered, “You need to stay with him. I’m worried about him. I’ll check out his office tomorrow, but until then… watch over him.”

He hopped down and tucked the “disabled but determined” doll back onto He Fei’s pillow.

The doll glared at him as he climbed back up, hugged his own knock-off, and fell into a deep sleep.

Author’s Note:

Qin Zhou: Mu Sichen, you’re just giving me away to another man?

Knock-off Doll: If I weren’t a fake, I’d cry right now!

Mu Sichen: Is He Fei just unlucky? Why is he surrounded by Outer Gods?

He Fei: Look at your own “Game Cabin” app and tell me who’s the unlucky one.

Mu Sichen & He Fei: Does our dorm just have terrible Feng Shui?