"Senior Lin Yu... I like you!"
Late at night.
On the stage of the Drama Club at Jiangcheng Media University.
A shy junior girl stood there wearing a beautiful sailor-style uniform skirt, her square-toed leather shoes reflecting the dazzling stage lights.
Her makeup was exquisite, her hair tied up in cute and playful twin ponytails, holding a bouquet of bright and vibrant champagne roses in her hands.
Lin Yu was momentarily stunned as he looked at the adorable junior who had suddenly appeared before him.
At that moment, Lin Yu was dressed in British-style theatrical costume.
A deerstalker hat, double-breasted suit, white gloves...
He looked like the stereotypical image of a "detective"—after all, for tomorrow's official performance, he was to play the role of an elegant and wise detective.
After all, Lin Yu was a very typical method actor.
And as the current "star performer" of Jiangcheng Media University's Drama Club, Lin Yu had this privilege—granted by both the club president and the faculty advisor.
Logically, no one should have disturbed him at this time.
So...
Looking at the beautiful junior who had just passionately confessed to him, Lin Yu frowned slightly.
"Right now is my rehearsal time. I'm sorry."
"My personal time is also dedicated to studying and practicing acting. I don’t have plans for a relationship at the moment. My apologies."
Lin Yu spoke somewhat stiffly.
Yet, after hearing his words, the junior girl opposite him maintained her bright smile.
"Senior, don’t misunderstand! My liking for you isn’t romantic—it's the kind of admiration a fan has for their idol! I’m your die-hard fan!"
Lin Yu’s frown deepened. "A fan... If you want to give gifts, take photos, or get an autograph, there will be an interactive session after tomorrow’s performance."
Although he wasn’t particularly fond of such interactions.
But the club president had said it was necessary to attract audiences.
The beautiful girl in the sailor uniform shook her head again.
"No, Senior, you’re mistaken. I’m not the kind of fan who’d be satisfied with photos and autographs. I’m more like Mark David Chapman—a 'die-hard fan.'"
Hearing this, Lin Yu froze momentarily.
"Mark David Chapman?"
He searched his memory briefly before recalling.
"The man who shot John Lennon... and was also his obsessive fan..."
The beautiful girl beamed at Lin Yu’s words.
"Correct, Senior Lin Yu! I knew you weren’t just a great actor—you’re also very knowledgeable!"
With her bright laughter, the bouquet of champagne roses in her hands burst open!
"Whoosh—"
The girl tore apart and discarded the bouquet.
Pale orange petals scattered like splashes of blood under the stage lights.
And from the ruined bouquet, the girl retrieved the object most emblematic of "violence."
Just as roses symbolize love, this was equally unmistakable.
A black, heavy piece of metal replaced the soft, bright flowers, now gripped in her slender, pale hand.
It was...
A gun.
"Beretta M9."
Seeing the gun barrel suddenly pointed at him, Lin Yu felt his entire body turn cold, his mind blank.
Instinctively, he identified the model of the pistol.
A prop? A prank?
In China, the appearance of a handgun was most likely a fake...
But Lin Yu wasn’t feeling optimistic.
Not just because the gun looked unnervingly real.
But also because of the sharp, calm, unwavering gaze fixed on him.
As someone who had once studied "serial killers" extensively for a role, Lin Yu recognized this look all too well...
It was the gaze of someone viewing another as prey—a gaze that could only be described as "murderous intent."
"Bang!"
The gun fired, the bullet piercing through a falling petal before striking Lin Yu’s beating heart with equal precision.
Iron and fire, blood and death—proof that the Beretta M9 in her hand and the killing intent in her eyes were both terrifyingly real.
Pain and coldness spread rapidly from the bullet wound in his heart. Lin Yu felt all strength leave his body as he collapsed weakly to the ground.
From above, the girl’s voice reached him again—no longer playful or flippant, but now deadly serious.
Almost... reverent.
"May you be seen by the gods."
As her words faded, Lin Yu felt his consciousness slipping away.
"What kind of joke is this... How absurd..."
His initial confusion gave way to overwhelming bitterness as he realized death was imminent.
How could he die here—to some deranged stranger, some senseless shooting?
"I don’t want to die!"
There was still tomorrow’s performance...
And next week’s, next month’s—his whole life ahead, filled with performances!
His acting still needed refinement.
So far, he hadn’t even delivered a single performance that fully satisfied him!
How could he die here, like this?
But no matter how bitterly Lin Yu resisted, how fiercely he raged...
In the end, everything faded into eternal silence.
......
An immeasurable time later, Lin Yu opened his eyes again.
The pain from his death still lingered in his chest, but now it felt like an illusion.
He instinctively touched his heart—no wound.
Looking around, he found himself in a dark, empty void.
"Is this hell? The underworld? Or am I just brain-dead, my consciousness trapped like this?"
Lin Yu gazed around in confusion, his mind racing with wild thoughts.
As if in response to his questions...
Blood-red text suddenly appeared in the void before him.
[Welcome to the Death Game!]
[Here, we offer the deceased who harbor a powerful will to live a chance to begin anew.]
[Participate in the game, and you shall be granted rebirth.]
[Do you choose to participate?]
Reading the crimson words, Lin Yu understood.
He had encountered... some kind of "supernatural phenomenon."
As a university student, Lin Yu was admittedly obsessed with acting, spending most of his time honing his craft—his life was simple, even monotonous.
But he wasn’t a caveman.
He had read web novels and watched anime during his downtime.
Drawing from those, he grasped his current situation.
Some higher being had created this so-called "Death Game."
Selected deceased individuals could revive by participating.
And based on those stories, Lin Yu knew full well...
Games that offered "resurrection" were often brutal and deadly.
But even so...
"Do I even have a choice?"
Lin Yu sighed softly.
If he wanted to live, to keep performing, to continue his life... there was only one option.
"I’ll participate."
As he answered, the blood-red text shifted again.
[Welcome to the "Death Game," Player Lin Yu!]
[Now drawing your initial class...]
[Congratulations! You have obtained the Unique Class: Fraudster!]
[Class Ability: When activated, any "deception" you perform will manifest to some degree if believed by others. The extent of manifestation depends on how strongly they believe you.]
Lin Yu read the new text.
But before he could fully process it, more crimson words appeared.
[Initial class generation complete!]
[Now entering the game—]
[Game Title: Who Is the Outsider?]
[Clear Condition: Eliminate all players of opposing factions or survive until the designated time.]
[Number of players in this game: 7.]