The Villain’s Eye and the High-Stakes Intermission

Xuezhan and Cheng Shi arrived at the club.

It had been about half an hour since Ji Kai’s departure. The club had been cleared of most patrons, leaving only a few scattered employees sitting restlessly behind the bar, looking ill at ease.

As Cheng Shi entered, he casually pulled a membership card from his wallet and “thwack”—tossed it onto the bar counter. “Open a room.”

The employee looked at the black-gold membership card with hesitation, stammering, “Sir, this afternoon, someone already…”

“I know,” Cheng Shi waved him off. “I’m here to find him.”

Hearing this, beads of sweat formed on the employee’s forehead. “This… we might not be able to…”

Cheng Shi knew immediately that the staff had pegged him as another troublemaker coming to kick up a fuss. He glanced at Xuezhan, whose lips were curled slightly as if suppressing a laugh. Reaching out with a long arm, Cheng Shi pulled the boy close to his side.

“I’m not here to start trouble.”

Cheng Shi narrowed his eyes, explaining as much to the receptionist as he was to Xuezhan. “I’m not Ji Kai; I’m not that bored.” He opened his palm and mischievously pinched Xuezhan’s fair, soft cheek, his tone half-joking. “If I were looking for trouble, why would I bring you along?”

Xuezhan “smack”—slapped his hand away.

Cheng Shi felt a slight itch on the back of his hand and let out a grin. “Stingy.”

Ignoring him, Xuezhan simply asked the receptionist, “Which room are they in?”

Under the gaze of those clear, cool eyes, the receptionist subconsciously replied, “A102…”

Xuezhan turned and gave Cheng Shi a look. “Shall we?”

Cheng Shi could only nod. “Fine, then.” He truly couldn’t fathom what about Ji Kai had managed to capture Xuezhan’s attention so thoroughly.

Room A102.

The door was left ajar. Even without leaning in, one could hear bursts of jeering laughter coming from inside.

Xuezhan paused for a moment, his brows knitting slightly. There were none of the bloody scenes he had imagined. Nor were there many voices; listening closely, the scattered noise sounded more like a “hype squad” than a serious confrontation.

So, was the Dragon-Slaying Hero simply being… inconvenienced?

Without any hesitation, Cheng Shi stepped forward and pushed the door open. Surprised by his boldness, Xuezhan followed him inside.

“Yo.” Cheng Shi locked eyes with a flushed Ji Kai in the center of the room. Opposite him stood a tall, unfamiliar boy with a cold expression, leaning against the billiard table and calmly wiping his cue.

Cheng Shi walked over slowly, his curious gaze sweeping over the stranger before turning to Ji Kai with a smile. “I thought about it, and since you were here anyway, I’d come by to see. I’m not interrupting, am I?”

“You’re mid-match… which frame are you on?”

Ji Kai’s expression was far from pleasant.

“Second frame,” he said, his face beet-red. Fine beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead, looking somewhat ghoulish under the bright lights. He gripped his cue stick tightly, barely able to spare a thought for Qi Wu. “Have a seat, Brother Cheng.”

Cheng Shi followed suit. “Sure. I’ll join the audience.” He pulled Xuezhan down to sit beside him.

Xuezhan sat obediently, but his gaze lingered on the table.

He had learned many things in his mission worlds, particularly regarding “hedonism.” A qualified cannon-fodder villain was naturally required to be a pro at idling away time and indulging in pleasures. As an elite employee of the Villain Department, Xuezhan was naturally well-versed in these pursuits.

The frame was more than halfway through. The colored balls were scattered, and most of the table had been cleared. Xuezhan didn’t know exactly how Ji Kai and Qi Wu had played up to this point, but large screens on either side of the room displayed the scoring system. Qi Wu was clearly in the lead: 62:45.

Ji Kai’s score wasn’t low, but Qi Wu maintained a steady lead. Perhaps because of this, Ji Kai kept shooting glances at the screen, his grip on the cue white-knuckled, his breathing heavy.

Xuezhan shifted his gaze to Qi Wu.

The latter’s expression was exceptionally cold. He was quite tall and somewhat lean compared to his peers, though it was easy to see his excellent build—broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

Since he was working today, Qi Wu was still wearing the club’s uniform: a shirt, vest, and trousers. The fabric wasn’t premium, yet his striking looks and graceful posture made the cheap material look like high fashion—far more eye-catching than Ji Kai, who was draped in designer brands.

The sudden intrusion of strangers didn’t seem to affect Qi Wu. His dark eyes flickered briefly over Xuezhan and Cheng Shi before returning to the table. The warm, hazy light of the room poured over him like a mist, highlighting his sharp brows and the crisp lines of his profile.

His right hand rubbed the cue stick, prominent veins bulging on his wrist. He lowered his upper body, his back expanding as he locked onto the cue ball. Qi Wu’s breathing was steady; his face hadn’t even flushed, forming a stark contrast to the huffing and puffing Ji Kai across from him.

The cannon-fodder’s attempt at “bullying” was a failure.

Xuezhan blinked and settled into a chair next to Cheng Shi. The Dragon-Slaying Hero of this world was indeed formidable; there was no need for concern.

However, Xuezhan also knew that cannon fodders were called such because they insisted on making things difficult for the protagonist, and because they often resorted to unsavory tricks. Xuezhan’s eyes swept over the two lackeys Ji Kai had brought along.

Clearly, they had sensed Ji Kai’s fury, and their expressions were sour. Their eyes darted back and forth as they occasionally exchanged looks.

To Xuezhan, this felt like taking an open-book exam.

Heh.

In his previous mission worlds, whenever he had to make things hard for a protagonist, he would exchange similar looks with his henchmen. He could see right through them!

Xuezhan pursed his lips and offered a faint smile, much to Cheng Shi’s confusion. Then, leaning over, he leaned into Cheng Shi’s ear and whispered a few words in plain sight of everyone.

Cheng Shi cooperated, his furrowed brows relaxing slightly.

Tang Xuezhan’s eyes were strikingly bright. His pale skin had taken on a faint flush, making his face look translucent and dewy, like a peeled lychee. He was beautiful, certainly, with a characteristic air of pampered arrogance as he murmured to the buzz-cut boy beside him. They looked… quite intimate.

Whatever they said made the buzz-cut boy laugh, softening his arrogant, condescending aura.

Qi Wu’s heart sank. He had seen the boy beside Tang Xuezhan before.

Qi Wu had a good memory and was sharp-witted; given his striking looks, he had worked part-time at various private clubs in City A and was familiar with the young masters and socialites who frequented them. The guy next to Tang Xuezhan was the Cheng family’s young master, Cheng Shi—a man who led the pack and lived by his own whims.

Certainly someone Qi Wu couldn’t compare to.

Seeing them sitting together, they seemed almost a perfect match. In the few times Qi Wu had seen Master Cheng before, he had never seen the man’s expression so gentle—one might even say indulgent. Cheng Shi even had his arm wrapped openly around the other’s slender shoulders.

Qi Wu retracted his gaze, expressionless. His fingers tightened, the friction between his palm and the cue making a sharp, grating sound.

Suddenly, Qi Wu snapped back to focus. He steadied his heart, took aim, and thrust his wrist forward, striking the cue ball. The white ball shot out, hitting the cushion at a sharp angle to change direction before accurately striking the black ball nearby.

The black ball rolled unsteadily into the pocket.

Seven points.

Xuezhan watched as a reluctant lackey added seven points to Qi Wu’s score. The black ball was the highest-scoring and most difficult among the colors, yet Qi Wu looked utterly indifferent as if it were no trouble at all.

The protagonist could handle it easily, but the cannon fodder couldn’t.

Ji Kai suddenly slammed his cue down. “Half-time break!”

His forehead was soaked in sweat, and his once-handsome face was now distorted with a dark, flushed rage. He glared at Qi Wu across the table as if trying to carve a piece of flesh from him with his eyes. “I’m changing to a better cue. You don’t mind, do you?”

Qi Wu shook his head.

His nonchalance only infuriated Ji Kai further. Ji Kai went cold, taking several deep breaths to stabilize his emotions. If Cheng Shi weren’t here, he would have flipped the table over by now.

Ji Kai realized he had miscalculated. He thought his skills were decent, but he had run into a self-taught genius who could play a masterful game just by being an assistant. He was caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ji Kai’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t one to keep his word; if it were just him and this insolent poor boy, he would have flipped the script immediately. But for some reason, Cheng Shi had followed them here.

If Cheng Shi was here to watch the show, his eyes rarely lingered on the table; he was mostly looking at the person beside him. Yet, if he was totally disinterested, he was still pointing at the table and whispering to the beautiful boy, making him laugh.

It was as if Ji Kai’s internal agony was nothing more than a background noise to a shared joke. He was being treated as entertainment!

Ji Kai had done this to others before, but being the one ridiculed filled him with uncontrollable rage. After a moment’s thought, he gave a lackey a look. The lackey understood immediately and headed toward the exit.

Before Cheng Shi could speak, Ji Kai took the initiative. “Brother Cheng, it’s boring with just us playing since you’re here. I’ve sent someone to find a few more assistants.”

Cheng Shi remained noncommittal. Ji Kai steadied himself and unscrewed a water bottle.

He had lackeys to bring him water and towels; Qi Wu, of course, had no such thing, silently putting down his cue to wipe his wrists.

An eyesore of a poor kid, Ji Kai sneered internally, tossing his used towel at a lackey.

Unexpectedly, the beautiful boy Cheng Shi brought along suddenly stood up. With a flash of his snowy-white wrist, he actually handed a bottle of water to Qi Wu.

Ji Kai’s brows shot up. Even Qi Wu looked startled, but after a moment of hesitation, he nodded in thanks and took it.

Ji Kai immediately looked at Cheng Shi. Cheng Shi remained neutral.

Then, Ji Kai heard the beautiful boy speak.

“For the second half… how about I be the referee?”