Just as Bu Yan Fangqi feared, in barely ten minutes the ground around Nana Toki was carpeted with corpses—dozens strewn like storm-felled leaves.

Nana Toki crouched with a street-thug slouch, one hand around a dagger’s hilt, her feral-boss-loli glare crackling like a lit fuse—pure visual whiplash.

The heroine grinding slimes shook like a kitten left in the rain.

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: This... this thing’s gotta be a bug, like a ghost in the code...

The Treasure Imp was the game’s punchline, the agreed weakest—like a paper kite in a gale.

Max the level, roll the worst stats, get beaten like a drum, then drop gold like rain—that’s the Treasure Imp in every player’s book.

But Nana Toki wasn’t that book; she was a flash flood through a canyon, overturning everything they knew about Treasure Imps with raw upheaval.

Newbie Village players gaped like fish hauled onto a dock.

How was that short-stacked loli NPC that strong, mowing down level-60–70 elites like wheat before a scythe?

New boss spawn?

[Nearby] Shu Buzi: This Treasure Imp hits like a thunderbolt—one slash and people pop like bubbles.

Shu Buzi even suspected those “level 60–70 elites” were level-one newborns, because Nana Toki brushed them and they folded like paper.

[Nearby] Treasure Imp: What? No one left?

Boredom first, then motion: the mobs around the gun-girl felt dull as ash, so Nana Toki swung her sights to the gawkers like a cat eyeing sparrows.

!!!

Holy crap—the Treasure Imp spoke, like a wind chime clinking in a dead calm.

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: You can talk?

[Nearby] Treasure Imp (disdain): I’m virtual intelligence, not virtual idiot—of course I talk, like wind talks through pines.

What did they take her for?

An NPC?

System: ...Exasperation first—Host, you are an NPC right now; please act like a reed in its marsh.

The System sighed like steam from a kettle; its Host never walked the plot’s stepping stones, only the wild ridgelines.

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: ...Impressive, like a slap in the face.

You call that an NPC?

Even at ten meters, the Treasure Imp’s disdain rolled off her like heat from sun-baked stone, and Bu Yan Fangqi felt his dignity cut like paper under a blade.

Why did an NPC get to look down on him like a hawk from a cliff?

If he could beat her, he’d never swallow this, like a spike in the throat.

[Nearby] Liang Shiyi: This Treasure Imp feels off—like ink that doesn’t dry.

[Nearby] Ma Jinhua: Yeah—her talk flows better than other NPCs, like a human behind the mask.

Heard a new event’s coming, big update—maybe devs juiced NPC AI, like turning lanterns up at dusk?

You ever seen any NPC in any game say “idiot” with that bite? Bu Yan Fangqi squinted, words dry as sand.

...

No dev would ship an NPC this spicy; her tone, her face, her swagger—most real people couldn’t pull it off like that, like steel wrapped in silk.

[Nearby] Treasure Imp: Enough chatter—weren’t you farming me for drops? If no one comes, I’m gone like mist at noon.

She’d only come to check the heroine’s level, then got ringed like a zoo exhibit—it made her temper spark like flint.

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: ...

This NPC’s swagger was trying to pierce the sky like a spear.

“The god-tier’s here! Quick, group photo!”

Nana Toki was about to wander off and idle like a leaf on a stream, when a Nearby message floated over her head like a lantern; she turned, and from the crowd walked a long-sword gentleman—poise like moonlight, a golden server-wide No.1 title blazing like a sun over his head.

Who else but the Protagonist Lord’s Xianlan Yanyu?

[Nearby] Juan Zhulián: Aaaah, god-tier so handsome—Mommy loves you, like spring loves blossoms.

[Nearby] Geye Meijiu: Ugh—another mom-fan; I’m gonna puke like a cat with a hairball.

[Nearby] Chunfeng Xiyu: You think the god-tier can farm this Treasure Imp, like reaping rice?

[Nearby] Lv Fei Hong Shou: Of course—look at that gear shining like armor in a saga; what NPC could stand that?

[Nearby] Chuangqian Mingyueguang: But I figure this Treasure Imp ain’t your average NPC, like a wolf in shepherd’s cloth.

...

No lie there; with five-thousand-plus attack, this Treasure Imp wasn’t “average”—she was lightning in a bottle.

Since launch, no one had seen an NPC this ridiculous—like a tiger filing tax returns.

[Nearby] Treasure Imp: Oh? Another soul offering themselves up like moths to a flame?

She tossed Thorn, the dagger, to the air with a bright metallic ping; Nana Toki curled her lip, then tossed a gauntlet at the Protagonist Lord with a glance, like a pebble into a pond: Come on. If you even touch me once, I’ll hand you Thorn.

Holy crap, this Treasure Imp’s badass—like a banner snapping in a gale.

If walls don’t impress me, you do—like a flag planted on a cliff.

The peanut gallery buzzed; they had never seen anyone flex like Nana Toki, her bravado hot as noon asphalt.

Maybe this Treasure Imp’s AI is too sharp, like a blade that cuts its scabbard? I suspect a staffer’s piloting from the back end, like a puppeteer.

No need to suspect—staffer’s clearly clocking in and goofing off on a GM account, stats smooth as jade! I’ll report her and dock her pay like rain taxes!

[Nearby] Xianlan Yanyu: ...

In a few lines of chat, Yan Jingze already felt the off-beat rhythm around this Treasure Imp, like a drum that won’t match the band.

A new dev event, maybe, like fireworks before a festival?

Xianlan Yanyu opened Nana Toki’s stat sheet; the Treasure Imp was exactly as per the world channel—absurd like a dragon in a teacup—but her base attributes sat normal as stone, same as any Treasure Imp; those jaw-dropping numbers were piled up by growth gear, a tower built brick by brick.

Form up.

Certain now it was a new event, Yan Jingze kept it terse like a commander in rain, and drove his character Xianlan Yanyu straight at Nana Toki like an arrow off the string.

He could already taste the headliner reward, sweet as ripe fruit.

He didn’t stay handsome for even three seconds.

Xianlan Yanyu’s vision drifted upward like a kite cut from its string, and when control snapped back, the world had gone gray-white like winter ash.

In this game, only death turns your colors to chalk like dust on old stone.

So that means...

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: Holy crap—the Treasure Imp just one-shot the god-tier, like thunder out of a clear sky!?

The nearby onlookers’ eyes bulged like frogs’, about to pop from their skulls.

It happened too fast; they saw Xianlan Yanyu charge with a long sword like a spearpoint—and then flop like a felled tree, a golden [Critical, -10086 hp] rising off the corpse like fireworks.

No one even caught the Treasure Imp’s move, like lightning that doesn’t wait for eyes.

[Nearby] Shu Buzi: Shiyi, did you catch her move, like a hawk tracks a rabbit?

[Nearby] Liang Shiyi: Mm... trip, then a forehead basic? Like a rug pull and a bonk?

After replaying the death clip again and again like beads through fingers, Liang Shiyi answered, still dazed: Since when does a plain auto-attack hit for ten thousand, like a falling anvil?

The whole server still hadn’t—

[Nearby] Bu Yan Fangqi: Did you see that Trip debuff? “Next subsequent damage ignores defense and deals double”—like oil on a fire.

...

Hacks! Has to be hacks, like a fox in the henhouse!

What NPC gets tuned this wild, like a storm in a tea cup?

Aren’t the devs afraid “quality players” will greet their ancestors, like drums at midnight?!

Game Devs: We’re not taking that blame, like a cat refusing a bath.

At first, the plan for the Treasure Imp NPC was simple: max Agility, a walking vault, to sprinkle fun like confetti.

The Trip debuff was just designer mischief, a thorn in the rose.

No one expected a Nana Toki to show up—gear-stacked stats towering like a city wall—turning it all into a tyrant’s parade.

Forget more fun; this was stuffing wedges into players’ hearts like grit in gears.

With these stats, even if Nana Toki stood still like a statue, they could hack at her all day and not push her to half HP.

The Protagonist Lord’s Xianlan Yanyu revived quick after the one-shot, rising like a cork from water.

Even he still didn’t know how he died, like a dream snuffed by dawn.

That all? I thought you were mighty, like thunder on a ridge. Nana Toki twirled Thorn and mocked Xianlan Yanyu: You can’t even get close—what’s there to brag about, like smoke without fire?

Seeing the Protagonist Lord eat dirt made Nana Toki glow inside like coals.

This felt like how a proper world should run, like a river back in its bed.

The onlookers chorused: Mighty, my Treasure Imp—like a banner in the wind.

This game docks a level on death like winter trimming branches, so after Nana Toki killed him, Xianlan Yanyu dropped from 70 to 69; some gear bounced to his bag like stones off armor, and even the golden server-first title over his head winked out like a snuffed candle.

Xianlan Yanyu’s face clouded like a storm front; at his level, ranking was hard as chiseling jade; now his level dipped, his gear locked, and his power fell off a cliff like a broken ledge.

It hit him hard, like hail on young shoots.

Worse, everyone knew he’d come to farm the Treasure Imp; his death reel was probably recorded by half the server, like sparrows stealing grain.

Power down and reputation bleeding like a cut—Xianlan Yanyu’s luck hit rock bottom.

Sure enough, in minutes the news of his death in Newbie Village spread across the server like wildfire in dry grass.

[World] Che Lizi: It’s over—god-tier went 1v1 with the Treasure Imp and got solo-killed; my youth just ended like a sunset.

[World] Shuizhong Jinghua: The bro above screams “old-fan energy,” like incense at a shrine.

[World] Didiaode Kongzhong Picha: Never thought I’d see it—someone outplayed the god-tier; who can stomach this Treasure Imp now, like standing in a typhoon?

[World] Chunfeng Xiyu: Reported already—the Treasure Imp’s tuning is bonkers; did the devs just let go of the kite string?

While the world channel flew like startled birds, Nana Toki, who’d just killed the Protagonist Lord in the wild, was ready to bolt like a fox into brush.

Gut first, then feet: it felt like a big, scripted kill flag was about to drop, so better to leave early—like a shadow before the torch arrives.