The Civil Affairs Bureau was highly efficient, and it didn't take long for them to receive the certificate.
After finishing his business and returning home, Sun Dasheng quickly summoned the system panel.
Level: 1 (10/100) +
Beatdown Value: 300
Cash-Out Value: 3,000,000
He saw the notification the system had displayed earlier:
[You have been betrayed by your wife, Beatdown Value +200]
[You were humiliated by Wang Jiadong in person, Beatdown Value +100]
It seemed that Beatdown Value could only be contributed once per person for the whole event. He thought about when he was laid off, feeling a pang of regret for all the Beatdown Value he'd missed out on.
Seeing the abundant experience points, he decisively clicked the plus sign to upgrade again.
The panel changed:
Name: Sun Dasheng
Level: 2 (100/1000)
Beatdown Value: 210
Cash-Out Value: 2,100,000
The physical reaction was much more intense this time. He lay on the bed, feeling an itchy and painful sensation, as if ants were crawling all over him. Before long, a severe stomachache sent him running to the bathroom.
"Ah... that feels amazing!"
After spending over half an hour in there, he felt completely cleansed. He seized the opportunity to take a shower, scrubbing off a thick layer of grime. When he was done, he stood in front of the mirror, utterly stunned.
He stared at his reflection. Is that really me? The question echoed in his mind.
In recent years, he'd felt the collagen drain from his face. His muscle tissue had slackened, causing the flesh to sag and collect around his jaw, widening his face and giving him a jowly appearance. It was the butcher's knife of time, leaving its cruel mark. Even many gorgeous celebrities couldn't escape it.
Now, that bloated look was suddenly gone. He was back to his thirty-year-old self. The greasy, middle-aged man had vanished, replaced by the well-defined, Handsome Uncle he used to be. In the mirror, his muscles weren't bulging, but they were lean and perfectly proportioned.
Previously, he was always either overworking in the library or crunching code at the office, leaving his body in a chronic state of sub-health. Now, however, he felt a surge of limitless energy. He felt like he could kill a bull with his bare hands just for fun.
Lying in bed at midnight, he looked at the remaining 210 Beatdown Value points on the panel. Since he was still a long way from the next level, he decided to cash out and see how it worked. He clicked "Cash-Out," and the Beatdown Value on the panel dropped to zero.
DING! A text message arrived on his phone: $2,100,000 has been deposited into your account.
This was slightly different from his guess. The amount was indeed 2,100,000, but it was in US Dollars, which converted to roughly 15,000,000 RMB. He looked at the new US Dollar account balance and nodded in satisfaction. Skimming money from America to spend at home... this is perfectly reasonable.
***
「The next afternoon.」
He visited a real estate agency and listed his house, valued at 8,000,000, for sale online at 7,500,000.
「Evening.」
「Time Corridor Bar.」
Having never been to a bar before, Sun Dasheng found everything novel and exciting. He was there for two reasons: first, to experience a new side of life he'd never touched, and second, to see if he could farm some experience points. Before coming, he had posted on a forum asking where one was most likely to get a beating. A highly upvoted novelist suggested a bar, claiming it was the sacred ground for novel protagonists to show off and crush their enemies. As a 996 corporate drone, he rarely read novels and didn't really get it. But he was one to take advice, and the top comment was flooded with agreeing readers.
These handsome reader lords wouldn't deceive me, would they?
The flickering neon lights, the blood-pumping DJ music, and the young men and women grinding against each other on the dance floor were intoxicating. It was truly a world of decadent pleasure. He recalled a famous quote from some show: "Don't shield me; let the unhealthy trends of society blow right in."
Following the principle of 'when in Rome,' he ordered a cocktail and sat on a high stool at the bar, sipping it slowly as he scanned the room.
"Handsome, is this seat taken?"
A cloyingly sweet voice sounded by his ear. He glanced over to see a woman with big, blonde waves. She wore heavy makeup, styled like a sultry married woman; the blood-red lipstick on her cherry-like lips was especially tempting. Before he could answer, she had already taken off her thick coat and sat down.
He suddenly felt his throat go dry. This woman had the kind of figure that would get you a 404 error online. Her purple, strapless, body-hugging leather dress seemed to be under immense strain, its top pushed up high like a balloon about to burst. His gaze traveled down to her willow-thin waist, which looked as if it might snap at any moment under the weight of the ripe fruit it supported.
Is this what the pervs on the forums call 'slender branches bearing heavy fruit'?
Further down, her hips, half-perched on the high stool, were pressed into an exaggerated curve. The resulting shape was reminiscent of a fresh, succulent peach.
Man, the internet wasn't kidding. The lady in purple is something else.
"It's free, sit wherever you like," Sun Dasheng said, pulling his gaze back with a hint of nostalgia and returning to his drink.
The woman didn't say anything more. She ordered a drink and began downing one glass after another, seemingly determined to get drunk. And before long, she was. Sitting nearby, Sun Dasheng could vaguely hear her muttering things like, "Men are all bastards." He guessed she was having relationship problems.
The bar was a den of sharks and minnows, and several young Blondies, who specialized in preying on drunk women, smelled an opportunity and moved in. Right there in the open, they tried to drag the woman away.
She must have had some wits still about her. She grabbed her handbag from the table and swung it at their heads.
"Fuck off! Where did you little shits crawl out from? You dare try to pick me up?"
Enraged, the Blondies closed in, ready to drag her away by force. Like the other onlookers, Sun Dasheng simply sat and watched the show, with no intention of getting involved. This kind of thing happened in bars countless times a day; it was a job for the police. He had no time to meddle, and besides, he didn't even know her. Screw that hero-saving-the-damsel crap.
He didn't want any part of it, but trouble came looking for him.
The blonde woman realized her escape routes were blocked. Panicked, she caught sight of Sun Dasheng enjoying the spectacle. A flicker of annoyance crossed her face. She stumbled back a few steps on her high heels, then spun around and threw herself at him. "Honey, they're bullying me!"
The impact of her soft body was like a point-blank ability in a video game. Sun Dasheng had to plant his feet firmly on the ground to absorb the force.
What the hell? How did I get dragged into this?
Seeing the resentful glares from the Blondies, Sun Dasheng gently patted the woman's back before getting up and walking toward them. Without giving them a chance to run their mouths, he laid them all out on the floor in a matter of seconds.
"You guys should leave! They have a big crew in here tonight," a kind soul warned him.
Sun Dasheng glanced over and saw several groups of people moving toward them. He grabbed the blonde's hand, ready to bolt. He was no match for all of them; a wise man knows when to retreat. But their path to the front door was already blocked.
"Uncle, this way!"
Not far off, a young girl in a JK school uniform was waving frantically at him.
"Let's get out of here first, I'll explain later," the girl urged when he didn't move. She ran over, grabbed his other hand, and pulled him in another direction.
HUFF... PUFF...
By the dimly lit back door of the bar, the three of them stood panting for breath. The blonde woman slumped against Sun Dasheng, squirming restlessly.
"Do we know each other?" he asked, looking at the girl with twin pigtails beside him.
"Uncle, you don't recognize me without my cosplay?" the girl in the JK uniform said with a laugh.
Hearing the familiar girlish voice, he remembered. Isn't this the Ultraman Tiga from the comic convention yesterday?
"Thank you so much. I really owe you one," Sun Dasheng said, his gratitude sincere. This girl was a lifesaver. He pulled a small pendant from under his collar—a pure gold Ultraman Tiga he had specially commissioned for over a thousand yuan a few years ago.
"This is my good luck charm. I want you to have it."
The young girl didn't refuse, hanging it on her chest, which was developing quite nicely. They exchanged WeChat contacts, and she typed her name into his phone: Li Sili.
"I still have friends inside, see you next time!" she said, glancing at the blonde draped over Sun Dasheng. She gave a wave and headed back into the bar.
The blonde was dead drunk, unresponsive no matter how he tried to rouse her. Sun Dasheng went to a nearby hotel and got her a room. He tossed her onto the bed and was about to leave. He was in no mood for a romantic tryst, especially not with a woman of unknown origin.
"Husband, don't leave me," the woman mumbled, grabbing his hand.
Sun Dasheng pulled his hand away. I'm not your husband. Go find your own.
Just then, the phone in her pocket began to ring. The sound startled her awake, and she answered with bleary, drunken eyes. A familiar voice came from the speaker, making Sun Dasheng freeze in his tracks.
"Mom said you went out and still haven't come home. What's going on?"
"Get back here now! Don't leave Mom at home worrying by herself!"
The woman seemed triggered. "You're never home! How dare you lecture me?" she screamed into the phone. "Your mom does nothing all day but watch my every move! What is that about, huh? Is it because her own son is always out fooling around with other women that she's afraid her daughter-in-law might go out and find a man of her own?"
Damn, this is some major drama! Sun Dasheng found a sofa chair, sat down comfortably, lit a cigarette, and settled in to enjoy the show.
The man's voice on the phone grew furious, and he began cursing nonstop. "Wu Xiaoli, you listen to me! You're just some poor girl from the countryside. The food you eat, the clothes you wear, this big house you live in—these are things you could never get in a lifetime of trying! I've given you this amazing life, so don't you dare be ungrateful. I can give it all to you, and I can take it all away."
"Sob..." The blonde woman began to cry pitifully. "What right do you have to say that to me? Are you capable of earning money yourself? The big house, the fancy car—wasn't all of it left to you by your dead ex-wife? Don't you know how much money you've pissed away these past few years on drinking, gambling, and whoring? What's even left besides this house and the cars?"
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The person on the other end had hung up.
Looks like that hit a nerve.
No wonder they say the one who can hurt you the most is the one who shares your bed. If they truly want to hurt you, they know exactly where to stick the knife.
"Your husband is Wang Jiadong?" Sun Dasheng asked, walking over. He offered the woman on the bed a cigarette; after all, she had just vented some of his own frustrations for him.
"How did you know?" she asked, taking the cigarette. She took a deep drag and immediately broke into a violent coughing fit.
So she can't even smoke? Why dress so provocatively then?
Sun Dasheng gently took the cigarette from her hand. Unfazed by her saliva, he took a long drag himself, then slowly blew out a perfect smoke ring.
"The woman he's playing around with right now is my wife," he said. "Or rather, my ex-wife."
"He's messing with your wife, so you should mess with his," the woman blurted out.
What... What kind of logic is that? Sun Dasheng's mind went blank for a moment. Does that even make sense?
He looked down at the woman on the bed. Her face was flushed, her eyes were hazy with drink, and her bountiful chest was pressed into a distorted shape against the mattress.
He suddenly felt that her words...
...made perfect sense!
He took one last, deep drag from the cigarette. He then walked over to a small table, forcefully ground the butt out in an ashtray, and ripped off his clothes before pouncing onto the bed.