Chapter Forty-Six: Truth or Dare

In the days that followed, things proceeded much as Lin Yilin had arranged. However, Zheng Fan knew there was no way he could just work hard once and then lie down to rest; the exhausting days would continue for some time. After all, the studio had just opened, and various matters still required Zheng Fan to navigate while wearing Cheng Fei’s skin.

Zheng Fan remained responsible for handling issues related to insufficient muscle power, while Lin Yilin managed the day-to-day operations. As for legitimate business dealings, it was unclear how Lin Yilin arranged things, but a few of the smarter underlings were summoned for what seemed to be some kind of training or crash course. The results were remarkable; though they looked much the same at first glance, their posture now bore the marks of emerging elites—no longer trembling lackeys easily intimidated.

With Lin Yilin’s assistance, they had also secured connections with some factories on Xixikoko Street, intending to start from there. The black-on-black dealings were still unavoidable—after all, there were few clean routes in Xixikoko Street—but it was manageable. Anything that passed through Zheng Fan’s hands and then Lin Yilin’s could be cleansed and legitimized.

Other underlings, less sharp but efficient workers, were tasked with handling very trivial commissions. These were not sourced from the official website or internal affairs but required them to seek out jobs themselves. These tasks involved no supernatural elements, were low-paying and undemanding, yet allowed them to quickly build a modest reputation.

Such work was something Lin Yilin herself rarely stooped to. Miss Lin was proud; she looked down on private detectives who pursued trivial cases like tracking down unimportant people or catching adulterers. At the very least, the case had to involve some supernatural element to pique her interest. However, the studio at Banmu had fewer such scruples and was not gentle with its workforce.

Whenever difficulties arose from others, Zheng Fan stepped in to resolve them. They aimed to establish a healthy financial cycle for the studio as soon as possible; it was not sustainable for Zheng Fan to have to ask nearby gangs for deposits every time payday came around. Although neither Lin Yilin nor Zheng Fan minded this, a proper business could not operate on such precarious terms.

Now, Zheng Fan sat in the Banmu studio, inhabiting Cheng Fei’s body, unable to roam freely to prevent trouble from others. Meanwhile, the underlings were all busy with their tasks.

“Xiao Zhao, come play a game with me.”

“Uh, Brother Fei, there are many orders to handle at the factories recently—this was your arrangement…”

“When did I… oh right, I arranged it. You go ahead.”

“All right, Brother Fei.”

Some time passed.

“Liu Zi, good work. Sit down, have some water, and chat.”

“Eh, no thanks, Brother Fei. Ah Huan and the others seem to have received another order—commissioned by the street office! It seems our recent efforts have been recognized. We need to crack down on the stray cats and dogs rampant on Dongding Road; there have been too many mysterious bite incidents lately. We need to handle this well. Like you said, Brother Fei, this is a time to perform well and be model residents of the street! Thanks for the water; I’ll head off now.”

“…Hmm, keep it up.”

“Okay, Brother Fei, you get some rest.”

Zheng Fan waved goodbye to his underlings, then lowered his head, rubbing his forehead. People came and went, yet in this large office, he—the “boss”—was the one with the least to do. Not a single underling was free to keep him company.

Care for the lonely boss—don’t let him wait in vain…

“Damn it! Boss, Sister Yuan—no, Su Hongyuan’s lackeys are causing trouble again!” a shout came from outside. Zheng Fan sprang up instantly.

“Good! Let them make trouble!”

“Huh?” The underlings were dumbfounded.

“No, they’re just bored!” Zheng Fan said with a grin as he walked out.

The troublemakers saw Zheng Fan and scurried away sheepishly. Recently, Zheng Fan’s thunderous methods had built quite a reputation. This new studio was a soft target, but with Zheng Fan as a thorn in the side, no one dared to press too hard.

Seeing them fail to cause trouble, Zheng Fan was almost disappointed. He cursed under his breath—“cowards,” “losers,” “shits,” “weaklings”—then returned to his seat to sit down again.

Another boring day.

---

After a long while, a knock came at the door again.

Zheng Fan tilted his head. “Come in.”

The visitor surprised him—it was Seiji Kiyono. The cool guy strode in, politely ensuring his subordinates waited outside rather than barging in. He glanced around the studio’s decor and nodded slightly. “Well managed, neat and orderly. Your reputation has grown recently; I’ve heard some things. You have backbone.”

Wow, here he goes again, acting like some leader on inspection. Though Seiji Kiyono was indeed the head of a major faction within Banmu, calling him a “leader” wasn’t inaccurate, but on paper, he was still on equal footing with Zheng Fan as a studio head.

“Whatever, he’s still a person...” Zheng Fan muttered.

Seiji Kiyono: ?

Zheng Fan poured him a cup of tea and pulled out a secret weapon from under the table.

Seiji Kiyono’s eyes sharpened instantly; Zheng Fan’s move looked like he was about to draw a gun...

Click.

Several game boards were laid out on the table—Chinese chess, Ludo, Go, Gomoku, checkers—everything.

“Pick one, choose what you like,” Zheng Fan flicked his wrist and raised an eyebrow at Seiji Kiyono’s fierce gaze. “Why the scary look?”

Seiji Kiyono blinked. “Sorry, my eyes are a bit dry... but I’m not here for this.”

Click.

Another sound as Zheng Fan pulled out more items.

Poker, Truth or Dare, German Heart Attack, Monopoly...

“It’s not that...” Seiji Kiyono almost asked why Zheng Fan’s studio housed so many board and card games but realized he shouldn’t be led around by Zheng Fan.

“Play a round, we can talk while playing. Otherwise, I’ll have to show you the door.” Zheng Fan crossed his legs, hands behind his head, looking casual.

Seiji Kiyono, who did not consider himself good-tempered, felt his veins bulging.

He slapped a box down. “This one.”

Truth or Dare.

“Oh, fun.” Zheng Fan’s eyes narrowed.

Then Seiji Kiyono brushed aside the Truth or Dare box and said, “But how about we freely make up the truth and dare challenges?”

“Of course,” Zheng Fan smiled.

...

They finally chose the simplest spinner with two colors—one for Zheng Fan, one for Seiji Kiyono.

While setting up, they began casual conversation.

“I’ve investigated some of the assets your studio recently acquired and found some clues,” Seiji Kiyono said.

Zheng Fan said nothing, finished setting the spinner, and gestured for him to start.

Seiji Kiyono spun the wheel rapidly.

“Some of these factories almost went out of business before. Although it seems local gangs helped them, the real guidance came from someone else.”

The spinner landed on Zheng Fan’s color.

“Truth,” Zheng Fan smiled.

“Who do you think that person is?” Seiji Kiyono asked.

“Perhaps someone who knows many things about Xixikoko, whose mind might be a little off but who actually has a great deal of compassion.”

After speaking, Zheng Fan spun the wheel.

“Impressive. Others run intelligence networks; even if you’re not as good as that person, you have a large force and investigating details isn’t hard for you. Most importantly, you know that person.”

The spinner pointed to Seiji Kiyono’s color.

“Truth,” Seiji Kiyono said expressionlessly.

“Which side are you on?”

“My father is one of the founders of Banmu Studio, and she is merely a passerby. I dislike the chaos caused by the studio’s management, but I also won’t allow anything harmful to the studio.”

He spun the wheel.

Zheng Fan, truth.

Seiji Kiyono: “Why did you get involved with that person?”

Zheng Fan: “A chance encounter. Haha, and also thanks to a certain acquaintance within our studio—my startup capital partly came from that.”

Spin. Seiji Kiyono, truth.

Zheng Fan: “What do you think of that person?”

Seiji Kiyono was silent for a moment. “Her confidence, her talent commands my respect, but she is too fragile, alone...”

Seeing him hesitate, this time Zheng Fan spun the wheel.

It landed on Zheng Fan, truth.

“Who are you?”

Seiji Kiyono quickly gathered his thoughts; the momentary hesitation seemed like an illusion.

Zheng Fan smiled. “A huge change, a fall from grace, a loser’s rise, turning the impossible into possible—the best at this in Daodu.”

Seiji Kiyono lowered his gaze and spun again.

It landed on himself, truth.

“It's my turn. Have you decided what to do? By the way, here’s a piece of news: she guessed you would find out, and she guessed your possible choice.”

Seiji Kiyono fell silent, then said, “Perhaps you can be my support. I hope to accept you, as long as you truly pose no threat.”

Spin. Zheng Fan, truth.

“Can you be trusted?”

“I’m not trustworthy, but maybe she is.”

Spin. Seiji Kiyono.

He nodded. “Dare.”

“Pleasure to cooperate,” Zheng Fan said.

“Pleasure to cooperate,” Seiji Kiyono replied.

After that, Seiji Kiyono stood up. “I’ll stop here. Farewell. You exceeded my expectations. Experience dealing with one illusion cannot be applied to another. I don’t know if my choice is right, but take good care of her.”

With that, he turned and walked away stylishly.

Suddenly, Zheng Fan’s voice called softly behind him, “We have good chemistry, but on the other hand, if during that dare I told you to put your pants on your head and shout ‘I’m an idiot,’ how would you respond?”

Whoosh!

The spinner on the table shattered instantly.

Zheng Fan saw a creature beside Seiji Kiyono—fox-like but without limbs, its skin not furry but smooth and moist, like a sea hare.

“Then there would be no dare,” Seiji Kiyono replied coldly, striding away.

Yet he still politely closed the door behind him.

Once the door shut, Zheng Fan folded his hands behind his head again, muttering, “Handsome, sure, but his temper really isn’t something.”