Shaving. Facial masks and skin repair. Hair treatment. Muscle sculpting and massage. Jaw stretching and facial relaxation…
The light in Tang Erda's eyes gradually faded as the "treatment" continued.
There had originally been a posture-correction therapy scheduled as well, but the specialist had taken one look at Tang Erda and said his posture was already excellent. Further correction would only be excessive. Mu Ke had no choice but to cancel it regretfully—he had heard that one was particularly painful.
To save time, Mu Ke arranged for multiple procedures to be done simultaneously. While Tang Erda's hair was being styled, his eyebrows were plucked, and his face was massaged at the same time.
The one plucking his eyebrows was a young, slender makeup artist with delicate features. Because Tang Erda was lying down during the styling, the artist had to lean over him—almost straddling him—to reach properly. As he worked, his face grew redder and redder. His grip became slightly unsteady, and his gaze kept drifting toward Tang Erda's chest, slowing the pace of the eyebrow plucking considerably.
Tang Erda, eyes closed while his hair was being washed, had no idea what was happening around him.
He had devoted his entire life to the game and the Anomaly Authority. It had never once occurred to him that someone nearby might be interested in men. In his mind, such people were rare, never imagining one was currently hovering right above him.
Bai Liu, seated on the sofa flipping through a magazine, glanced over. The corner of his lips lifted slightly.
Liu Jiayi, wearing her goggles, noticed the subtle shift in Bai Liu's expression and followed his gaze. The corner of her mouth twitched.
Bai Liu calmly set the magazine aside and walked over, sitting elegantly beside Tang Erda. He lifted his eyes and let his gaze rest lightly—but unmistakably—on the young makeup artist.
As if sensing a warning, the artist stiffened. He hurriedly sped up his work, finished plucking Tang Erda's brows, and scurried away without looking back.
Liu Jiayi leaned closer to Bai Liu and muttered, "Why are you asserting dominance to protect him? Can't you just let this big idiot get bullied a little?"
Bai Liu watched Tang Erda sit up as his hair washing finished. He shifted slightly and lowered his voice.
"I don't like seeing people meddle with my property."
"Especially when it doesn't benefit me."
He lifted a hand and patted Liu Jiayi's head reassuringly. "If someone bullied you, I'd be angry too."
Liu Jiayi swallowed the retort rising in her throat and turned her face away, faintly annoyed at Bai Liu's attitude toward Tang Erda.
This guy had shot her once. She hadn't forgotten.
"What if I'm the one bullying him?" she asked coldly.
Bai Liu smiled. "That's up to you. I don't mind fights between my assets—as long as no one damages the other and lowers their value."
Liu Jiayi brightened immediately, clenching her fist and looking for a good spot to punch. But when she saw Tang Erda's freshly styled face, she hesitated.
Bai Liu leaned closer and whispered in her ear, "Try not to damage his face. It looks expensive."
Tang Erda stood up awkwardly, fully "refurbished." He touched the back of his neck, then his chin. Noticing Bai Liu and Liu Jiayi staring at him in silence, he grew increasingly uncomfortable.
Covering his mouth slightly, trying to regain some dignity, he muttered, "I told you this was useless. It won't increase the audience's interest in me…"
"No," Bai Liu replied calmly, his gaze sweeping over Tang Erda as his faint smile deepened. "At the very least, aesthetically speaking, you're more attractive to me now."
The makeup artist had lowered Tang Erda's brows and trimmed his sideburns, sharpening the outline of his face and accentuating his piercing navy-blue eyes.
His features were angular and severe, carrying a naturally cold expression. His tall frame, broad shoulders, and narrow waist gave him the stance of someone perpetually ready for battle—dangerous and commanding.
Liu Jiayi circled him once, then reluctantly admitted defeat.
From an appearance standpoint, this type absolutely appealed to audiences.
When Tang Erda had originally obtained the [Death-Exemption Medal] among numerous star players, it hadn't been due to strength alone. His appearance had undeniably contributed.
Of course, he had never realized that.
Or rather, after spending so long among monsters, Tang Erda had lost any clear sense of ordinary human aesthetics.
In his mind, he was average at best. Only someone gentle and refined like Su Yang could be considered attractive.
So when Bai Liu complimented him with a faint smile, Tang Erda immediately assumed he was being mocked.
His discomfort deepened. His brows furrowed, his expression turning colder. He raised a hand, about to ruffle his freshly styled hair.
"I said this was useless! Don't do these things to me—"
Before he could ruin it, the makeup artist cried out and grabbed his arm dramatically.
"I won't let you sabotage yourself! You're ridiculously handsome, okay?! If you wore one or two well-fitted outfits, customers would line up outside this store!"
"If you ever debuted…" The artist lightly held his muscular arm, face flushed red. "I'd definitely be your wife stan⁽¹⁾."
What?
Tang Erda, who had never even heard of the term "wife stan," stared at him in utter confusion before pulling his arm away, question marks practically floating over his head.
Bai Liu withdrew his gaze calmly. "Go pick two outfits that suit him."
"Would a tailoring shop be okay?" Mu Ke asked. "There are two I'm familiar with. Regular stores probably won't carry clothes that fit him properly."
"Sure," Bai Liu replied, pulling out his phone. "I'll inform Mu Sicheng that we're changing locations."
-----------------
Inside a tailoring shop
The nameplate above the entrance was a string of elegant French words Bai Liu couldn't understand. Several foreigners worked inside, but Mu Ke spoke fluent French and communicated with them effortlessly. Bai Liu decided it was best to sit back and watch.
He had to admit—Mu Ke was thorough.
Tang Erda measured 192 cm tall. Aside from sports brands, it would be nearly impossible to find ready-made clothes that fit him properly.
Even here, selecting suitable pieces wasn't easy. A bearded tailor apologized to Mu Ke, implying that finding the right proportions might be difficult. Mu Ke, however, insisted they complete the measurements before drawing conclusions.
Tang Erda was ushered behind a white curtain and asked to remove his shirt for chest, waist, and hip measurements. Bai Liu and Mu Ke followed inside to help choose outfits.
Liu Jiayi was left outside against her will.
At that moment, Mu Sicheng arrived. After hearing the situation from Liu Jiayi, he rolled up his sleeves with a malicious grin and marched toward the fitting area.
Was there a better opportunity to get revenge on this idiot captain?
If he caught Tang Erda half-naked, he would absolutely body-shame him—tell him he looked terrible no matter what he wore.
With that scruffy, homeless-for-six-months look, how could Tang Erda possibly transform into some cool guy?
There was no way he'd look better than Mu Sicheng, young and charismatic as he was.
After casually fixing his hair, Mu Sicheng arrogantly pulled the curtain aside and stepped in.
Tang Erda, half-dressed, opened his eyes and shot him a hostile look.
His old uniform hung loosely at his waist. From chest to back, his body was marked with old scars and bullet wounds. Without fabric covering him, his muscles were sharply defined—taut and powerful. The smooth line from his shoulders down to his narrow waist held unmistakable strength.
His short hair was neatly styled now. His face was clean, his navy-blue eyes sharp and cold. After confirming Mu Sicheng was merely a teammate, he looked away indifferently and raised his arm for the tailor to continue measuring.
The tailor, clearly intimidated by the scars, measured him with extreme caution, barely daring to breathe too loudly.
Mu Sicheng slowly let the curtain fall shut behind him.
Then he tilted his head back and let out a silent scream.
One glance—and he'd already lost.
Damn it. He looks so cool. And that body—
Mu Sicheng hesitated for a few seconds, gritted his teeth, and shrugged off his jacket. Fine. He wouldn't admit defeat so easily. He stepped forward in just his T-shirt.
Whatever. He was athletic, too. His physique wasn't bad.
Liu Jiayi, who had seen through his intentions instantly, looked at him with pity.
"You can't beat Tang Erda. His chest is way bigger than yours. From what I saw, it's at least over a hundred."
At that exact moment, Mu Ke's gentle voice drifted out from inside the curtain.
"Chest circumference… 115 centimeters? Are you sure that's normal? Is there any medical concern about overdevelopment?"
The tailor responded in heavily accented Chinese, nodding enthusiastically.
"Very standard! Perfect!"
Mu Ke, whose own chest measurement barely reached ninety: "..."
Mu Sicheng, who didn't even hit one hundred: "..."
He… lost.
Quietly, Mu Sicheng slipped his jacket back on and zipped it up, minimizing any exposure of his upper body. After carefully composing his expression, he opened the curtain again and stepped inside.
Tang Erda was in the middle of trying on clothes. He clearly wasn't used to people approaching him without defensive distance. When Bai Liu had to hold his head steady for the collar measurement, Tang Erda's expression darkened, and his voice dropped lower.
"Do I still need to be measured?"
"No!" the tailor waved his hands excitedly, gesturing enthusiastically at Tang Erda's chest, waist, and hips. He gave a thumbs-up and declared in accented English: "Beautiful!"
Tang Erda immediately took a tense step back.
Mu Sicheng and Mu Ke stood to the side, unable to hide the envy on their faces. They stared at Tang Erda's chest, then looked down at their own in quiet despair.
Mu Sicheng even lifted his hand to measure across his chest, leaving a five-centimeter gap between his fingers for comparison. The more he calculated, the more irritated he became.
If you're this cool, handsome, and built like this, why didn't you show it earlier?! Were you hiding it all this time just to embarrass me?!
After finishing the measurements, the tailor exchanged a few words with Mu Ke, then turned back to Tang Erda, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. The way he looked at him gave Tang Erda goosebumps.
Mu Ke translated for Bai Liu. "He asked about Tang Erda's profession. Generally speaking, very few people at this height have such standard proportions unless they're professional models. I explained that Tang Erda underwent formal military training and is now retired."
"So he recommends clothing inspired by uniforms," Mu Ke continued. "Actual military uniforms have strict regulations and can't be worn casually, but similar designs are possible."
As he spoke, the tailor removed a dark gray uniform-style outfit from a hanger and handed it to Tang Erda, gesturing for him to try it on.
A few minutes later, Tang Erda stepped out.
The shirt fit perfectly across his broad shoulders. Unlike Bai Liu's typical office-style dress shirts, this one was sharply tailored. He wore a double-breasted vest with structured shoulder straps extending from his back to his waist.
The waistband was wide but fitted snugly, emphasizing his build. A holster-style accessory rested at the back of his hips.
The tailor nodded in clear satisfaction and turned to speak briefly with Mu Ke again.
"He said the design references FBI-style uniforms," Mu Ke translated. "It's very suitable for someone with professional training and a fit physique."
"How does it feel?" Bai Liu asked calmly. "Will it restrict your movements?"
Tang Erda tested it for a few seconds, rotating his shoulders and flexing his arms before answering honestly.
"No."
"Good. We'll take it," Bai Liu decided. "Pack it up. Let's continue."
-----------------
Forty-seven minutes later.
Tang Erda stood outside Bai Liu's rental apartment, holding multiple shopping bags—tie clips, socks, leather boots, and other accessories. His expression was cold as he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt irritably.
It was too tight. He still wasn't used to dressing like this.
Inside, Bai Liu made a call. "Mm. Mu Ke is here. Come pick him up."
After hanging up, he dialed another number. "Jia Yi is here. Please come get her."
When he finished, Bai Liu looked at Mu Sicheng. "You can head back on your own, right?"
Mu Sicheng nodded.
After arranging for everyone's departure, Bai Liu turned back to the group.
"Since we're fortunate enough to have Captain Tang's strong support, qualifying for the League shouldn't be an issue. That gives us more time to prepare properly."
His gaze shifted to Tang Erda, who stood at the back.
"Captain Tang, aside from training, teammates should also take care of themselves. It's almost eleven. Go home, rest this afternoon, and tidy up your appearance. Come to the hot pot restaurant near my apartment at five. I'll treat everyone to dinner. We'll enter the game at six-thirty sharp and officially begin League training. Any questions?"
Everyone shook their heads.
"Good."
Just as Bai Liu was about to continue, the doorbell rang.
Tang Erda, being closest to the door, turned and opened it.
The moment the door swung open, the director—who had rushed over frantically after receiving Bai Liu's call—jumped in fright.
It wasn't just that Tang Erda was extremely tall.
His uniform was slightly disheveled from discomfort. His styled hair was damp and tousled—he had even rewashed it because he wasn't used to the product. The top buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing faint scars across his chest. A fresh scent clung to him, and droplets of water still trailed down from his hair.
He looked wild.
Almost like he had just gotten out of bed.
Since Bai Liu was still speaking inside, Tang Erda stepped out slightly, blocking the doorway with his tall frame. He looked down at the director.
"What do you want?"
The director instinctively shrank back under the pressure and stammered, "I—I'm here to pick up Mu Ke."
"Wait a moment," Tang Erda replied. "Bai Liu is inside… handling things with him."
The director froze, eyes widening in disbelief.
"Is Bai Liu still not done?! Aren't you already finished with him?!"
—You're this big, and you still haven't finished dealing with Bai Liu's matters?!
Even though something about that sentence felt off, Tang Erda couldn't pinpoint it. He frowned slightly and clarified in a serious tone:
"Bai Liu has finished dealing with me. He hasn't finished with the other two yet."
Liu Jiayi can handle her own matters; there's no need for Bai Liu to worry about her.
The director leans against the wall, dizzy, and asks in a trembling voice, "Inside… Bai Liu is even doing stuff with the other two people in front of you?!"
What kind of human does that?!
Letting one of his lovers welcome visitors while he continues with the others?!
Tang Erda frowns. "What's wrong with that?"
The director struggles to steady himself after Tang Erda's question. His gaze drifts to the scars visible beneath Tang Erda's collar, and he blurts out, "Those wounds on you… They weren't caused by Bai Liu, were they?"
Tang Erda's expression shifts. He swiftly pulls his collar tight, grabs the director's hands, twists them behind his back, and pins him against the wall. "How did you know?" he demands sharply. "Have you played the game?"
"I don't fucking play that dirty, evil game with Bai Liu!" the director roars resentfully. "Let go of me!"
Why are Bai Liu's men so terrifying? Just the suspicion that he had played games with Bai Liu makes him feel like he's about to die in Tang Erda's hands.
As the director struggles for air, Bai Liu pushes the door open and tilts his chin slightly, signaling Tang Erda to release him. "He's not a player. Let him go."
Tang Erda lets go, stepping back with lingering suspicion.
The director immediately stumbles away, but when he sees Bai Liu standing by the door, his pupils tremble.
In just one day, Bai Liu looks far more exhausted. His face is pale, dark circles shadow his eyes—it's almost as if he hasn't slept for days.
The director walks forward to collect Mu Ke. Before leaving, he glances back at Bai Liu, who has loosened his collar. Similar round wounds mark the same area as Tang Erda's—like faint burns.
But those marks weren't there yesterday.
How wild had that single night been?
The director immediately grabs Mu Ke's hand and flees the scene.
Outside, unable to contain his curiosity, he asks, "When Bai Liu was playing his games, did the guy at the door burn his neck with a cigarette?"
Mu Ke stares at him in shock. "How do you know that?!"
The director pulls out a cigar and lights it, staring into the distance as he exhales a long stream of smoke. "My eyes have witnessed too much of this world's depravity…"
-----------------
Author's Note (Pot Fish Chili):Some readers asked whether you can freely change your appearance. Yes, you can—but it costs money. The more dramatic the change, the more expensive it is. However, some items allow others to see through disguises. So if you want to become a star member, you can't rely on fake appearances—the audience won't buy it.
1. "Wife stan": a fan who imagines themselves as a character or celebrity's wife. (There isn't a perfect English equivalent, but this captures the meaning.)