When Su Mu woke up, there was no one around.
Without realizing it, she had fallen asleep.
She hadn’t slept well last night, that much was certain.
She’d dreamed all night long, so of course she’d wake up with a headache.
On top of that, she’d spent her energy on Ye Wanqing, leaving her utterly exhausted.
Now, when she was already worn out, it only took the lightest touch of hypnosis for her to plunge into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Not being awakened was no surprise; maybe it was because there were plenty of others sleeping, but Su Mu knew the real reason was that quality of hers that people tended to overlook.
In last night’s dream, she finally got to see Su Ya as she’d wished, and after that, everything from her past resurfaced.
Thinking back, it was only after she distanced herself from Su Ya that she started to shake off her old shadows.
Of course, being targeted by Tang Nai wasn’t exactly a good thing, either.
No matter how much she didn’t want to believe it, a sense of helplessness welled up inside Su Mu.
She couldn’t suppress her suspicions about Su Ya, couldn’t help but associate everything’s root cause with her.
When it came down to it, there really was no way to sever their connection.
‘So why even try to think the best of things now? All along—all along, she’d never really cared about me. Whatever, it’s better to just go back for now.’
However, in a corner Su Mu didn’t notice, a sneaky figure quietly pulled back their gaze from behind the door, along with a strand of bright yellow hair that had accidentally slipped out.
It had been several days since she saw any announcements for Justice’s Live Broadcast Room.
After being tricked by Su Mu, Justice must be having a rough time.
At least, that’s what Su Mu thought—until she checked the latest notice in his Live Broadcast Room.
“Regarding the recent discussions about my live broadcasts, I hereby make this solemn statement: All judgments vilified as bloody and violent are merely dramatized performances. No one is harmed in the process, so there is no need to worry about being attacked as a result.”
“I am well aware of the boundaries between law and human morality, and I know exactly how to satisfy your demands. I’ve always worked hard to keep my performances fresh and exciting. But as more and more objections arise, I have no choice but to offer an explanation.”
“Of course, if anyone would like to add some ‘real’ footnotes to this justice that exists only in performance, I would be deeply honored, and hand the stage over to someone more worthy.”
‘Performance? Is this some kind of confession?’
He’s just admitting it openly like this?
Not afraid of dying a horrible death?
He’ll definitely get flamed to death!
To Su Mu, this was just Justice showing his greed.
He planned to use the traffic she’d brought him to grow his fame and win it all for himself.
What a pipe dream!
Not only would he lose his original followers, but the new ones would spit on him for deceiving them.
‘This kind of stupidity could only backfire. Had he really learned anything at all?’
Of course, Su Mu wasn’t feeling the sort of “hate iron for not becoming steel” sentiment.
She just found it strange.
She didn’t think this guy would be dumb enough to make such a mistake.
She was worried Justice had another agenda—especially when she saw that last line about a “real footnote.”
This statement wasn’t as simple as it looked.
Not to mention Justice still had some unknown ability.
Before figuring things out, she had no idea what he was really trying to do.
With Su Mu’s abilities as they were, all she could do was take things step by step.
Fortunately, Lu Shan’s crisis had been resolved.
Now that he’d openly admitted to faking things, the so-called “Freak Trials” had become a joke.
No one would really believe it was real.
Surely, it couldn’t just so happen that someone watching would recognize Lu Shan and make the connection, right?
But then again… who knows?
Justice’s influence wasn’t small.
No matter how much Lu Shan kept to herself, she still had to go to school.
What if one of her roommates happened to see it?
Wouldn’t that be a disaster?
Still, Su Mu had no solution.
With her abilities gone, she had no choice but to focus on her own problems for now.
Let’s just wait and see what happens next.
To her surprise, that very night, Justice resumed his live broadcast.
But the figure appearing in that shadowy, narrow space wasn’t just the man in the goat-head mask.
Or rather, not only him.
There was also another man, wearing flamboyant clown makeup.
His face was caked in a thick layer of shit, his eye sockets sunken deep, his cheekbones jutting sharply.
Just standing there, he looked terrifying enough—even more so with that corpse-like pallor, as if he’d been soaked in water.
His lips, by contrast, were a vivid, shocking red.
While Justice rambled on, the clown was restlessly biting the corner of his own lips, gnawing until blood seeped out.
All eyes in the Live Broadcast Room were drawn to him.
“Looks like our Mr. Clown can’t wait any longer. Let’s hand the camera over to him, shall we? Rather than the lead, I’d rather be an audience member myself, sharing my thoughts like the rest of you,” Justice said.
The bullet comments in the Live Broadcast Room were indeed full of people flaming Justice.
But more viewers had already been captivated by the bizarre behavior of the clown.
If all of this, up till now, was just Justice acting, then it was just too real.
The expressions, the spurting blood, the piercing screams—even the clown’s demeanor right now—none of it was something movie effects could imitate.
“In case some of you aren’t aware, I have to mention a bit about this tongue-tied Mr. Clown here. As you can see, he is the ‘real’ footnote I’ve long anticipated. Compared to those old performances that merely tried to shock the senses, maybe this time he’ll bring you something different,” Justice explained.
At that moment, the clown suddenly interrupted Justice, unable to suppress his excitement.
“Is it finally my turn? Hehe, heheh, sorry, I’m a little excited. Give me… just a moment to calm down.”
The clown laughed, a shuddering sound, his whole body shaking uncontrollably like a seizure.
Suddenly, he thrust his face right up to the camera, making Su Mu nearly drop her phone in fright.
“So, hehe, I’ve come today to invite you all to appreciate my artwork—oh no, I mean, to witness the justice of a little nobody like me.”
The clown fumbled clumsily, picking up a heavy, wet travel bag from his feet.
Its red and black mottled surface looked deeply disturbing.
It was just like the suitcases you might stumble across in the wild.
What was inside could be cash—or it could be people.
In the clown’s hands, it was clearly the latter.
No one knew how he managed to carry such a big thing over here.
Everyone held their breath, waiting for the clown to pull open the zipper.
Su Mu’s heart was filled with a strong sense of foreboding.
She had a feeling that this guy was about to show everyone something truly awful.