Chapter 180: Debating New Life
Through his mask, Shen Xiu’s voice carried a cold edge despite its muffled tone. The moment people heard him speak, they instinctively began to ponder his question.
Some of the reporters who had received the tip and arrived at the theater had already seen the movie. One after another, they began to respond:
“I think… probably not, right?”
“I still think they didn’t change. They just fell into the forbidden zone, completed the mission under Qin Xiao’s lead, and returned to their own world. The entire class didn’t show any signs of mutation, so they’re still themselves.”
“But is it possible that they were just hallucinating the whole time? Ever since those black mold spots appeared and they started seeing those monsters, maybe they’d already gone insane. Otherwise, how do you explain that they returned a whole month later, and their teacher didn’t notice anything strange? That would mean they never actually left the real world.”
“I think they did mutate. Remember, in the film, Qin Xiao mentions several times—when dealing with the monsters according to the rules—not to let whatever was under his classmates’ skin mutate.”
“I also think they weren’t normal anymore. Otherwise, why would Qin Xiao spend so much time during the mission teaching them high school subjects?”
“Because he’s the class monitor! According to what he says in the film, as the class monitor, he’s supposed to maintain classroom discipline and make sure everyone is studying properly.”
“Uh… am I the only one who thought Qin Xiao was strange from the beginning? Every time the class got scared, he’d cut them off and redirect them, which slowly made the whole class accept all the terrifying monsters that came later. So I actually lean toward the idea that he was the only monster who successfully descended from a higher dimension into the lower one. And by subtly influencing everyone around him, he made them all unknowingly turn into monsters too.”
“Holy crap—if that’s true, and he said he wanted to become a teacher… and teachers deal with tons of students… doesn’t that mean every student he ever taught…”
“The more you think about it, the scarier it gets!”
While everyone was chattering away, Shen Xiu subtly scanned the crowd from beneath the cover of his black hoodie.
After a quick glance around, he realized—he was completely surrounded.
“……”
That’s what he got for being too curious and asking one random question.
Shen Xiu hadn’t expected that a simple counter-question from him would attract so much attention.
If he remembered correctly, over 90% of the people now shaking hands and passionately debating were complete strangers who were meeting for the first time.
And yet, with the way they looked at each other so fervently, speaking in such excited tones—was this really how first meetings were supposed to go?
Shen Xiu suddenly felt like he was the only socially anxious person in the whole world.
So—
Here came the real issue:
Now that everyone was caught up in the excitement and ignoring him, how could he quietly sneak away without being noticed?
His gaze precisely landed on the thinnest part of the human wall surrounding him.
But the reporters standing in that weak spot suddenly froze as they met Shen Xiu’s indifferent gaze. The words in their throats died out. One of them swallowed nervously and asked, “D-Director Shen, is something wrong?”
Did he say something inappropriate just now?
Shen Xiu replied, “…It’s nothing.”
He couldn’t bring himself to admit he’d just been trying to find the weakest point in the crowd to slip out unnoticed.
But before he even had the chance to sneak off, he got caught.
That low “nothing” might’ve been soft, but his voice had that uniquely cool tone that still stood out in the noisy environment—impossible to ignore.
The previously noisy crowd fell completely silent, and in unison, all eyes turned to Shen Xiu.
After the crowd quieted down, the reporters—who had been passionately debating just seconds ago—finally realized something:
With just one simple rhetorical question, Shen Xiu had effortlessly stirred the pot and gotten them to argue among themselves, without ever actually answering anything.
Shen Xiu: “……”
Life really was too easy here. He’d gone soft—he couldn’t even slip away unnoticed anymore.
Under everyone’s expectant stares and in the awkward silence, Shen Xiu had no choice but to speak up.
“Everyone, may I ask—any more questions?”
Hopefully not. The sooner this ended, the sooner he could leave. The crowd was growing, and if they kept gathering like this, it was only a matter of time before they caused a jam.
Shen Xiu quickly scanned his surroundings. In his head, he calculated the shortest, fastest exit route. Without waiting for anyone to respond, he added with feigned casualness, “If not, I have something to attend to. I’ll need to leave first.”
Overhead lights shone down on him, casting shadows beneath the brim of his black hoodie and under his narrow eyes, adding to his cool, unreadable expression.
Just as a few reporters were about to speak, they were cut off—not by words, but by Shen Xiu’s cold glance as he delivered his second line.
That sharp, chilly gaze made the words die in their throats. Intimidated by the faint hostility in his eyes, everyone instinctively swallowed their questions and changed their tune.
“N-no more questions.”
“Goodbye, Director Shen…”
“Same here, I’m done.”
…
With no one stopping him anymore, Shen Xiu finally relaxed a little. His eyes drifted toward the part of the crowd with the fewest onlookers as he prepared to say his goodbyes.
Before he could even speak, everyone instinctively stepped aside, making way for him.
Shen Xiu: “…Thank you. Goodbye.”
The moment the crowd met Shen Xiu’s indifferent gaze, their bodies moved faster than their minds—they instinctively parted, clearing a path for him through the crowd.
As soon as they stepped aside, Shen Xiu’s cold and muffled voice followed:
“You’re… welcome.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Goodbye, Director Shen.”
…
People responded to Shen Xiu’s farewell in hushed tones, still shaken by how involuntarily they had just reacted. And before they could even snap out of it—Shen Xiu was already gone.
The reporters: “……”
All that buildup… for nothing.
They’d prepared a whole list of questions before coming here, but with just one casual sentence, Shen Xiu had led them around by the nose. Not a single useful thing had been asked. Utterly useless!
Someone had started a livestream the moment Shen Xiu was stopped.
Viewers in the stream were just as disappointed when they saw Shen Xiu leave.
[Too weak! They didn’t get anything out of him!]
[I was hoping someone would ask which team did the monster effects—they were so… wait, huh? What did those monsters even look like? I literally just left the theater, but it’s like… I can’t remember a thing?]
[WTF, me too! I don’t remember them at all! What kind of sorcery is this?!]
[That creepy, chilling feeling is still there, but when I try to picture them in my head, it’s like my brain just auto-censored everything. I clearly saw them in detail while watching, but now—nothing. This is seriously weird!]
…
After the first VFX team was replaced, the members of the second team—now watching the livestream—began to read the flood of comments. Only then did they slowly start to reflect… and suddenly realized something disturbing:
Even though they had personally worked on creating those monster effects, they now couldn’t recall what any of them looked like.
The VFX team leader felt a wave of inexplicable anxiety. Glancing nervously around the brightly lit room, he still couldn’t shake off the cold, oppressive feeling that had clung to them while replicating Shen Xiu’s original concept art. It made his scalp tingle.
Panicking, the team leader started a group video call.
“Guys… do any of you remember what the monsters in the effects looked like?”
“Wait, Captain—did you also see the livestream chat where Shen Xiu got stopped?”
“Holy sh*t, I seriously can’t remember either!”
“…There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you all, but didn’t dare before. The editing team said that after New Life was finalized, all footage showing those unspeakable monsters—just vanished.”
“Are we dealing with something paranormal? In the film, they say those monsters are ‘indescribable,’ and anyone who sees them would go insane. So… maybe the disappearing footage, and even our memories being wiped—maybe it’s all a form of protection?”
“S-stop talking… I’m seriously getting scared!”
——
Everyone who watched New Life began passionately debating online whether Class 3-1 were still human—or had they become high-dimensional monsters who’d mastered the art of perfectly mimicking humans?
At the same time, viewers collectively noticed the film’s most terrifying detail:
They couldn’t remember it.
#NewLife
#Can’tRemember
#ShenXiuWhatDoYouThink
#BestHorrorFilmOfTheYear
#ShenXiuIsAGod
#InsaneVFXButCan’tRecall
#CreepedOutButCan’tRemember
— Mind control? Just how did Big Boss Xiu pull this off?
— Is it possible… that he’s not… human? No offense—I mean that in a good way!
— I get you, sis. When we say “Shen Xiu forever the GOAT,” we mean it literally. That moment during the livestream when he said, “What do you think?”—it felt loaded. Was Xiu-baby hinting at something we don’t know? Could it be that our world’s been… corrupted too?
— Ugh, give it a rest, you Xiuologists. Stop pretending like it’s some cosmic revelation. The VFX just sucked—that’s why no one remembers. I admit Shen Xiu’s a genius, fine, but turning him into some kind of godlike being? Isn’t that a bit much? No way you forget what you saw after watching. I don’t buy it!
— I just watched the first screening, and let me tell you—those effects were insane. One glance had my skin crawling, my brain buzzing like I was on the verge of a breakdown. It felt like I was splitting apart, like a speck of dust drifting in space with no thoughts left to think. The creeping horror stays with you, but somehow… you just can’t remember what the monsters looked like.
— Stop the supernatural nonsense! It’s just a movie. Do they really need to push the marketing this hard?
Based on the descriptions from the first wave of viewers on the trending page, whether they were skeptical or convinced, it only fueled curiosity among those who hadn’t seen it yet. The scramble for tickets grew even more intense.
And as for the miraculously unrememberable VFX monsters in New Life, they became a viral obsession online.
At that moment, the system, observing the explosion of debates on social media, quietly chimed in:
[Mr. Shen, that was your doing, wasn’t it?]
Shen Xiu held Lucky tightly in his arms, and replied softly, “Mm.”
“Ordinary people shouldn’t be able to remember those things.”
The system paused: […] Then, sir, back when you had no memories at all… why did you still manage to create those indescribable things?
Could it be that—even while suffering amnesia—Shen Xiu was just like Qin Xiao from New Life: a monster cloaked in a human shell, quietly trying to warp the entire world into something alien?
[!]
Just as it feared!
The more Shen Xiu insisted he was “normal,” the more it proved that deep down… he knew he wasn’t.
Its constant anxiety over Shen Xiu’s mental state had been fully justified!
The system didn’t even dare imagine what might happen if—one day—Shen Xiu decided he no longer wanted to be normal.
Because ultimately, what counted as a “normal world”… would depend entirely on how Shen Xiu chose to define it.
And Shen Xiu’s logic—was the one thing no one could ever predict.
Shen Xiu’s hand, mid-stroke as he petted Lucky, suddenly froze. His eyes lowered, settling on the open laptop camera on the coffee table in front of him.
With a trace of cold exasperation, he muttered two words:
“Reset it.”
<< _ >>
**TN
Only 6 chapters left. I recommend From Talent Show to Superstar, if you haven’t read it yet. 😀
