Anchor Hall
Chapter 277: The president is online!!!!
After the settlement of the “Changsheng Building” instance was completed, Su Cheng was sent back to the anchor hall.
As soon as he returned, his phone was bombarded with all kinds of messages, and when he opened it, they were all from members of the same guild.
After Su Cheng left the instance, his status on the guild list immediately changed from [Live] to [Online], and almost at the same time, Wen Jianyan’s name turned gray.
In the Nightmare live room, a anchor’s name turning gray was an ominous sign, which meant the anchor had already died in the instance.
Wen Jianyan was dead!
No one wanted to believe it, but the cold hard fact was placed right in front of them. This news immediately triggered strong ripples within the guild.
Shocked and disbelieving guild members urgently tried to find out the truth, and the only person they could turn to was Su Cheng, who had entered the instance with Wen Jianyan.
Thus, after returning from the “Changsheng Building” instance, Su Cheng didn’t even have time to rest and recover but hurried to the guild to attend an emergency internal meeting.
The moment he entered the guild hall, the heavy and oppressive atmosphere hit him like a wave, making it almost hard to breathe.
The vice president Chen Mo, who had been left at the headquarters to handle guild affairs, sat at the long table with a stern and serious face, his expression gloomy, saying nothing in silence.
Ji Guan sat upright in his chair, looking tense, frequently glancing towards the door, obviously nervous and uneasy.
Yun Bilan was sitting alone on another sofa not far away.
She still had that flamboyant blue hair, her slender body leaning back with her legs crossed, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, her face expressionless and silent, exuding an aura of “stay away” from head to toe.
Wen Ya and Blond were not present. Shortly after Wen Jianyan and Su Cheng entered the instance, they had gone into another instance with two of Chen Mo’s other subordinates and had yet to return.
The moment Su Cheng walked into the hall, all eyes instantly focused on him.
Ji Guan immediately stood up, taking large strides toward Su Cheng, firing off questions like a barrage of bullets: “What happened? What exactly happened to the president?”
He was still wearing the appearance Wen Jianyan had left him—the frivolous playboy image designed to mislead the Oracle. The sight of such a familiar face caused Su Cheng to freeze for a moment, momentarily forgetting to respond.
“Hey.”
A cold, impatient voice came from behind, Yun Bilan speaking indifferently: “At least let the man come inside first.”
Ji Guan then realized in his urgency that he had blocked Su Cheng at the door. He hunched his shoulders and stepped aside to let Su Cheng in.
Su Cheng walked further into the guild hall.
Chen Mo stood up from behind the desk, still with that same calm and unreadable expression, though his brow was visibly clouded.
He took a deep breath, looked at Su Cheng, and directly asked:
“Is Wen Jianyan dead?”
“I’m not sure.”
Su Cheng shook his head and slowly replied.
He really wasn’t sure.
Normally, when a anchor’s name turned gray, it meant they were 100% dead. But this time was different… After all, the position of guild leader hadn’t been vacated due to Wen Jianyan’s “death,” nor had there been any notification to the vice presidents about electing a new guild leader. Of course, this could just be a system delay, but Su Cheng preferred to believe the answer was—there was still hope.
“You’re not sure?”
On the side, Yun Bilan frowned, her already agitated mood growing worse.
She stood up from the sofa and took a step forward:
“Weren’t you in the instance with him? How could you not be sure whether your teammate is dead or not?”
Su Cheng wiped his face with his hand: “Actually, toward the end of the last instance, the danger had mostly passed. We just had to wait for the time limit to end. But at the time, he wasn’t acting right. He said he had found some kind of clue and needed to be alone for a while, so we split up.”
But what he didn’t expect was that this would be their last conversation.
After hearing Su Cheng’s explanation, the entire guild hall fell into silence.
This kind of thing… they really hadn’t encountered it before.
Suddenly, Ji Guan spoke up: “…By the way, have you checked the forum?”
Everyone was stunned and turned to look at him.
Ji Guan was staring down at his phone, his face somewhat pale: “The ‘death’ of No. 034 seems to have already spread. The whole forum is talking about it.”
In Nightmare, No. 034 had been a rising star, storming his way into the top fifty of the total points ranking. He had been in the spotlight, with all the anchors watching the mysterious newcomer, who had only just entered Nightmare but had already achieved things most anchors couldn’t even dream of. Naturally, they were constantly monitoring his movements.
The moment his name on the leaderboard grayed out, many people noticed immediately.
The forum’s traffic surged, and within just a few minutes, posts related to No. 034 took over half the homepage.
Some were curious about what kind of instance could take down such a rising star, while others recalled similar meteoric figures who had appeared and fallen just as quickly.
But most people were mocking, gloating.
“See? I knew it. People like him don’t last long in Nightmare. The brighter they shine in the beginning, the more miserable their deaths.”
“Tsk tsk tsk, and to think they were hyping him up on the forums, calling him the strongest newcomer, the fastest climber—bet it stings now, huh?”
“One’s virtue must match their position, or calamity will follow. I heard that No. 034 was pretty good-looking. Maybe he cozied up to some big shot and slept his way to the top.”
“Hahaha, those anchors who joined that small guild must be regretting it now. The guild leader’s gone in the blink of an eye. They would’ve been better off staying in a big guild, continuing to work under someone.”
Malicious comments flooded in, and besides these, many other anchors were discussing the future of their guild—countless hungry, predatory eyes focused on this small guild, which had suddenly lost its leader, like wolves smelling fresh blood.
The more Ji Guan scrolled, the darker his expression became.
Eventually, he couldn’t hold back anymore, opened one of the nastiest posts, and began furiously typing replies. Soon, he was in the midst of a heated argument.
Just as he was raging, fiercely defending the guild…
Suddenly, a hand reached out from beside him, blocking his phone screen: “That’s enough.”
He froze and looked up.
Su Cheng was standing in front of him, looking down calmly: “It’s pointless.”
“…”
Ji Guan was momentarily dazed.
Thinking back, he was one of the first guild members to get to know both Wen Jianyan and Su Cheng. He was also the most familiar with how Su Cheng used to be. Back in the “Fukang Hospital” instance, Su Cheng’s words and actions had been naive and inexperienced. During their instance runs, he always instinctively relied on and trusted his teammates—and Wen Jianyan’s strength was undeniable.
That strength wasn’t related to physique or talent but came from his terrifyingly quick reflexes, sharp observation skills, and cunning, unpredictable behavior. Even Ji Guan, who hadn’t known Wen Jianyan well at first, had to admit that having someone like him on your team brought an unparalleled sense of security.
And now… though not much time had passed, it seemed Su Cheng had changed a lot.
Su Cheng withdrew his gaze and looked at the other guild members, speaking quietly:
“Wait. He’ll be back.”
Even though he had just said he wasn’t sure whether Wen Jianyan was dead or alive, now he spoke as if he had glimpsed a part of the future, with a tone of certainty.
It was still the same face—refined, handsome, and proper—but the earlier traces of inexperience and awkwardness from the previous instances had completely vanished, leaving no sign of their existence.
Now, he seemed almost indistinguishable from seasoned anchors like Chen Mo and Yun Bilan.
Chen Mo frowned slightly, analyzing the situation rationally: “But we still need to prepare a backup plan, just in case…”
The fact that Wen Jianyan’s name had turned gray but his position as guild leader hadn’t been vacated suggested two possibilities: either the system was delayed, or, if it really was a system delay, they could face a serious crisis. It would be best to elect an acting guild leader in advance to prevent anyone with ill intentions from exploiting the situation.
“There’s no need.”
Su Cheng interrupted Chen Mo without hesitation.
“No need?” Chen Mo repeated.
“Yes,” Su Cheng turned to face him, staring intently as he calmly said, “We just need to wait. Half an hour will do.”
At that moment, Ji Guan suddenly noticed how dark Su Cheng’s eyes were.
Unlike Wen Jianyan’s eyes, which were naturally lighter and almost like glass beads in the sunlight, Su Cheng’s eyes were originally a deep black-brown.
But as time passed… his eyes seemed to have become even darker than before.
When he stared at someone unblinkingly, it gave a strange, unsettling feeling, as if there was a hidden power in them that could see through everything, perhaps even predict the future.
“I’m a prophet, remember.”
Yun Bilan gave Su Cheng a thoughtful glance, then raised her hand: “I second that.”
Ji Guan snapped back to reality:
“I-I have no objections either.”
Su Cheng’s proposal was unanimously approved.
He nodded, then turned around and sat down in an empty chair, closing his eyes to rest.
“…”
No one else spoke. The guild hall fell into a dead silence.
Ji Guan lowered his head, occasionally glancing at the phone in his hand.
Time ticked by, each minute feeling excruciatingly slow. It seemed like half an hour had never felt so long before.
Ten minutes passed.
Twenty minutes.
Twenty-five minutes.
The time was almost up.
Ji Guan couldn’t help but lift his head and look over at Su Cheng.
He was still sitting in the same position as before, his face showing signs of undeniable fatigue—which was understandable, considering Su Cheng had just come out of a difficult team instance. Although the Nightmare system automatically healed their bodies, the mental exhaustion couldn’t be shaken off so easily.
Just as Ji Guan was lost in thought, suddenly, without any warning, Su Cheng’s eyelids twitched, and he met Ji Guan’s eyes.
“!”
Ji Guan was startled.
There wasn’t a hint of drowsiness in Su Cheng’s eyes; it seemed he had remained fully alert the entire twenty-some minutes. Ji Guan’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly looked away, feeling guilty.
And at the very next moment…
“Buzz buzz.”
The phone resting on his lap suddenly vibrated twice, its black screen lighting up.
On the guild interface, the three words in the guild leader’s spot—”Wen Jianyan”—suddenly changed from that ominous gray back to normal black!
And behind that name, the word [Online] slowly appeared.
“!! The guild leader! It’s the guild leader!!”
Ji Guan suddenly grabbed his phone, his voice trembling with excitement as he jumped off the couch: “The guild leader is online!!!!!”
The others immediately checked their own devices.
After confirming that Wen Jianyan had indeed come online, an indescribable sense of excitement and relief appeared in everyone’s eyes—he was alive! Wen Jianyan wasn’t dead!
For Yun Bilan and Su Cheng, who were already aware of Wen Jianyan’s plan to resist the Nightmare, this also signified something even more thrilling. In the past twenty-six minutes, Wen Jianyan had, in some unimaginable way… briefly escaped Nightmare’s control. This meant that his understanding and research of Nightmare had now reached a depth they couldn’t even comprehend.
Maybe…
The grand vision Wen Jianyan had laid out for them after the “Fantasy Amusement Park” instance wasn’t some unrealistic fantasy. Instead, it was something that, in a hidden way, was slowly becoming reality.
Su Cheng slowly exhaled, his fingers twitching at his side. At some point, his palms had become soaked with sweat.
“Buzz buzz!”
“Buzz buzz buzz buzz!”
Just as everyone was celebrating, Ji Guan’s phone suddenly vibrated wildly again. This time, the vibration didn’t stop, continuing non-stop. He quickly grabbed his phone, worried it might slip from his hands.
“Sorry, I just turned on the notification sound for the forum posts—”
As soon as he unlocked the screen, a flood of messages began pouring in.
Ji Guan looked at the avalanche of notifications and couldn’t help but gasp: “Damn, the forum’s going crazy.”
“Those maggots,” Yun Bilan glanced over, frowning with a mix of disdain and disgust. “Are they that disappointed the guild leader didn’t die?”
“…No, it’s not just that.”
Ji Guan was silent for a moment before slowly looking up, his expression dazed. “In any case… just take a look yourselves.”
The others were momentarily puzzled.
They all took out their phones and unlocked their screens—
What first caught their attention wasn’t the frenzied forum messages but the real-time updated ranking list.
The streaming account they were all familiar with was shooting up the leaderboard—climbing—
Until it finally stopped.
It landed at the eighth position!
In other words, after the points were calculated from the previous instance, Wen Jianyan had suddenly jumped into the top ten of the Nightmare’s overall points leaderboard!
The new ranking spot shone brilliantly, and Nightmare’s ranking system automatically announced it server-wide, celebrating the emergence of a new top-ten player.
——No. 008, Wen Jianyan.
*
Wen Jianyan himself was unaware of all this commotion, having already turned off all notifications on his phone. He knew nothing of the chaos outside.
To him, the most important thing right now was to take a shower and change clothes.
That ceremonial robe had been through far too much—stained not only with blood but also with sweat and… other bodily fluids from moments of heat. Although Wen Jianyan didn’t consider himself a clean freak, he really couldn’t stand wearing it for even one more second.
Soon, after finishing his shower, he came out in a loose t-shirt, lazily strolling out of the bathroom.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, brushing his damp hair back from his forehead, revealing smooth skin. His eyelashes were still wet, and his body was radiating warmth from the steam, giving him a lazy and casual appearance.
He threw himself onto the bed, raising his hand to examine the ouroboros ring firmly biting down on the base of his middle finger, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Now that he had learned the true use of the ouroboros, the question was—what next?
In fact, fooling the Nightmare and imprisoning the soul fragment of Wu Zhu had been the easiest part. Compared to that, the real challenge lay in the next step. How was he supposed to control the entity and make it obey his commands?
Countless ideas flashed through his mind, only to be quickly dismissed.
He frowned, raising a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his face showing a trace of worry.
It didn’t really need to be this complicated.
In his original plan, the next step was to seize the opportunity and renegotiate with the other party—
A real negotiation.
Purely rational, without any personal emotions involved, ultimately reaching a cooperation that existed solely for achieving their mutual goal.
After all, no matter what, Nightmare was their common enemy. If Wen Jianyan were to make a list of what he most wanted to do, destroying the Nightmare streaming platform would undoubtedly be at the top, without question.
No matter what, he couldn’t possibly give up ownership of his own soul—that was a fundamental, non-negotiable bottom line.
It was precisely because of this that, the moment Wu Zhu proposed “obtaining his soul” as a condition, Wen Jianyan had already planned for betrayal.
Wen Jianyan narrowed his eyes, twisting the ouroboros ring on his finger.
Even thinking back on it now, his original plan was still flawless.
The failure of their last cooperation was because the god had taken an interest in his soul, so his soul ended up on the bargaining table as a sacrifice.
So, what he needed to do was destroy that interest and desire completely.
Being backstabbed by a beloved follower during a kiss and embrace… and not just once but twice—any being with even a semblance of normalcy, no matter how strong their love and possessiveness, would be overwhelmed by rage and a desire for revenge in that instant. This was true for ordinary people, and even more so for a god high above.
——Especially in the last instance, Wen Jianyan hadn’t held back his malice and cruelty when plunging the knife into Wu Zhu’s chest! Anyone with a shred of pride would be furious!
And based on Wen Jianyan’s understanding of Wu Zhu from the previous instances, this guy held grudges.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have chased him from “Decai Middle School” to “Fukang Hospital”, then to “Antai Community”, where he branded him and turned him into a tool to serve his purposes.
Following that logic, if Wen Jianyan were ruthless enough, the love and desire that hadn’t even taken root, hadn’t even been fully understood by Wu Zhu, would certainly vanish, replaced by cold fury and hatred.
For Wen Jianyan, such emotions were actually much easier to manipulate.
Not to mention, in terms of using such methods, Wen Jianyan was undoubtedly a master.
He had personally pushed Wu Zhu into a vulnerable position, and naturally, he could shackle him and send him back again—of course, assuming Wu Zhu cooperated enough.
Even if, after all this, Wu Zhu still stubbornly harbored thoughts of revenge, it wouldn’t matter to Wen Jianyan. After all, the ouroboros was in his hand, and he held absolute control. The one truly in charge was no longer Wu Zhu—it was him.
Wen Jianyan was not someone who would fail to take advantage of his superior position.
He decided whether the contract would remain in place, and he dictated how things unfolded.
If it came down to it, he would completely dismantle any potential cooperation. Even without Wu Zhu’s cooperation, it didn’t matter—Wen Jianyan had ways to extract value from him. He would tear off the mask of civility and, with the cold, calculating logic he was familiar with, take what he needed. Then, when the opportunity arose, he would thoroughly eliminate any potential threats to his freedom, mercilessly snuffing them out before they could grow.
But…
Wen Jianyan furrowed his brow, a cloud of worry slowly creeping over his face.
He raised his hand and rubbed his face hard. The scene at the end of the last instance flashed through his mind again… Wen Jianyan felt a headache coming on.
To be honest, Wu Zhu’s reaction at the end of the instance wasn’t exactly what he had expected…
It was, in fact, the complete opposite.
This left Wen Jianyan somewhat unable to read him.
“…”
Wen Jianyan stared at the ring on his finger.
Even though he had just come out of the bathroom, the cold, dark metal hadn’t absorbed any warmth at all. It clung tightly to the base of his finger, heavy and impossible to ignore—as if Wu Zhu’s presence still lingered on it, making him feel extremely uncomfortable.
Wen Jianyan lowered his head, his entire face drooping in dejection.
Damn it, why did it feel like things were even more troublesome than before?
__
Author’s Note:
I thought he was a normal god, but he turned out to be a pervert (?
