In the end, Zhang Yemiao didn’t do anything to Linne. She’d wanted to handle it herself, but Wang Qi seemed reluctant to let her mess up. So he took over, figuring out how to extract that thing from the catgirl.

She watched as Wang Qi tossed the catgirl into an empty room. He then dug up the blood-red bead, its surface still slick with gore, and strode inside with an eerie grin.

What followed were the catgirl’s muffled cries: *"Mew! No—mmph! St-stop it! Meww… you’re bullying me!"* Mixed in were Wang Qi’s laughter and the raspy, unrestrained cackles of the blood-red shadow.

*Could it be… we’re the villains?*

Zhang Yemiao suddenly felt this realization sink in. They’d seemed like heroes at first glance, yet their actions hardly matched that role.

But then again, no one had given them any quests. So what did it matter?

She wasn’t bothered. Though their group’s arrival in this world clearly had a purpose, nothing was pushing them to act. If anyone should be anxious, it was whoever had dragged them here—not them.

Anyway, Wang Qi soon emerged holding a golden cube. The shadow floating beside him had grown far clearer. Zhang Yemiao could now make out a distinctly feminine silhouette.

*Do all women in this world develop like this?*

She instinctively covered her chest. Lately, Wang Qi had seemed… dissatisfied with her figure. He’d call her "adorable," but as the one he’d "captured," Zhang Yemiao knew better.

Now fully formed, the shadow revealed a slender, elegant shape. Whatever she’d been before becoming a spirit, she was undeniably half-beautiful.

But this wasn’t the time for such thoughts. Zhang Yemiao’s gaze fixed on the head-sized cube cradled in Wang Qi’s palms.

“What’s this?”

“The noble’s treasure—the ‘Life Cube.’ I knew that catgirl was hiding it. We got it out.”

*Life Cube?*

An unfamiliar term.

“I heard that mages at the seventh tier condense a magic cube inside their bodies,” Wang Qi explained, watching Zhang Yemiao. “It’s where their magic and laws solidify. This cube acts as a magic source, channeling power. The more spells a mage knows, the more cubes they form—making them stronger…”

Zhang Yemiao instantly grasped his meaning: Zou Moan, who knew every spell, would become unstoppable here once she reached the seventh tier.

Thirteen basic magics existed in this world. Could she form thirteen cubes?

“High-tier mages grow stronger by refining these cubes within themselves… So this is essentially crystallized magic.”

*Meaning only a seventh-tier mage could create this?*

Wang Qi seemed to read her mind. “Not *create*. You have to *kill* a seventh-tier mage to get one. They can’t remove it themselves—just like you can’t rip out your own heart.”

The golden Life Cube.

A seventh-tier mage’s life.

“No wonder it’s a treasure. This is incredibly precious.” Zhang Yemiao hadn’t expected Wang Qi to steal something like this.

Wang Qi scratched his head. “Neither did I. Honestly, the wildest part is that we actually *got* it. That noble wasn’t even strong—how he got his hands on this, I’ll never know.”

He casually tossed the cube to Zhang Yemiao.

It felt utterly ordinary in her hands—cold as iron, weightless. If not for its golden glow, she’d have thought she was holding nothing.

“Wang Qi, our deal… this cube fulfills it. I can fully resurrect by anchoring to this Life Cube. Nothing suits me better.”

Wang Qi nodded. “I figured.”

Zhang Yemiao frowned at them both. “Then why give it to *me*?”

“Well… to shape a body. Specifically, a humanoid form. Only after merging with it can a soul gain life attributes and inhabit it.”

Zhang Yemiao stared blankly.

*Life attributes? A soul entering a body?*

Before Wang Qi could explain, the shadow waved a hand. A raspy voice cut in: “No need. I’ll tell her myself.” She turned to Wang Qi. “As for that catgirl—do what you want. Sell her, kill her… I don’t care. She’s useless now.”

Zhang Yemiao tried glancing through the open doorway at the catgirl, but Wang Qi shifted, blocking her view.

She looked away, feigning confusion. “So you need me to forge something? Let’s head to the forge first. You can explain on the way.”

She started walking toward the forge, the shadow trailing behind.

Wang Qi watched them leave. He tightened his grip on the blood-red bead, took a deep breath, and turned back to the room.

Inside, the once-vibrant catgirl now shrank against the wall, trembling. Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head, terror twisting her features. Her feline claws scraped the floor—sharp, grating sounds—but she kept her mouth clamped shut, too afraid to scream.

Wang Qi couldn’t forget what he’d seen earlier.

The shadow had warped grotesquely before his eyes. It had torn open the catgirl’s body, ripped out a Life Cube no bigger than a fingernail. When the catgirl tried to scream, it snapped her neck. Yet horrifyingly… she stayed alive.

The cube had expanded to its current size only after leaving her body.

After that, the catgirl had broken. And the shadow had grown more solid, as if fed by something.

Wang Qi felt a flicker of pity. But he wasn’t kind. He’d never considered himself a good person. He was still as filthy as ever.

Just like when he’d first arrived in this world—he’d been ready to abandon the other three. In fact, on his second day here, after realizing his power had limits and the others surpassed him, he’d already planned to leave alone.

What had stopped him?

Probably when Zhang Yemiao had grabbed his hand and whispered, *“Don’t leave me.”*

So he’d kept Zhang Yemiao close. And in the end, he hadn’t abandoned anyone—maintaining contact with the other two girls too.

The thing inside the blood-red bead was no ally.

Take its “Holy Sect,” for example. Groups with names like that were always trouble. Its earlier attempt to drain Zhang Yemiao’s life force—and what it just did to the catgirl—proved its cruelty.

Yet Wang Qi kept the bead. He was even willing to pay a price to fulfill his deal with it. Because ruthless people were reliable.

Extreme, but useful.

This trade had been a test. Such allies were convenient… and if he needed a contingency plan later, he wouldn’t lose sleep over silencing them.

It was despicable. But Wang Qi had never claimed to be good. So he acted accordingly.

His earlier words to Zhang Yemiao—about living quietly in this world—had been half-lies. Just an excuse.

But now… he almost wanted to try.

Zhang Yemiao was thinking too simply, though.

This was a world where power resided in individuals. One misstep could destroy everything—like that bead nearly killing her.

So Wang Qi needed strength.

He wouldn’t shy from darkness to get it.

He approached the trembling catgirl. Forcing a gentle smile, he stroked her fur. His voice was soft, yet utterly devoid of warmth: “Don’t be afraid. Be good. If *she* finds out… you know what happens. I won’t be as gentle as that thing.”

Tears fell as the catgirl curled into a tight ball.

…

“So you need a humanoid body? A plain metal frame can’t host a soul—it must have ‘life’ attributes first?”

After a long talk with the shadow, Zhang Yemiao finally understood.

*Life attributes…* No wonder AIs never gained true intelligence here.

“So what kind of body do you want?”

Forging one would be tough, but many parts could be synthesized. After all, the shadow didn’t need a natural living form—just a vessel for its soul, anchored to the Life Cube.

“Hmm… like yours. But taller. And breasts… three sizes bigger. Nothing else matters.”

Zhang Yemiao nodded coolly. *Shorter than me. Flatter chest. Uglier. Got it.*

She ignited the forge, ready to begin.

Suddenly, the shadow spoke: “Aren’t you curious what we did in that room?”

Zhang Yemiao kept her eyes on the molten iron, watching it shift and glow. Without turning, she said: “Whatever you did, I don’t care. Whatever he does, I’ll stand behind him.”

“Even if it’s evil? Cruel?”

“He never does evil things. I believe that.”