After Backstabbing The Villain, The System Allowed Me To Enter The Book Again - Chapter 40

Day One

The world was black and white and silent. Even the engines of cars on the street made no noise. Faces of hurried passersby were numb. Though the streets were normally bustling, they now appeared dead and desolate. At first, Shen Chumo didn’t understand why, but he soon realized: this world lacked vitality.

Shen Huaixin, dressed in professional attire, crossed the sidewalk. Before he could catch up, traffic blocked his way, and he could only watch her back disappear into the subway entrance. Shen Chumo waited a moment, used his common sense to judge if the light had turned green, and then followed her trail into the subway station.

Her expression was blank. She didn’t even glance at the huge subway signs, simply turning a corner, taking the escalator, heading to her destination. Shen Chumo noticed she was very familiar with the route, yet it did not match any place he had ever seen; it seemed conjured from thin air. Every subway station they passed was unheard of.

Next, Shen Huaixin changed lines once more. After exiting, she walked for more than ten minutes before stopping. Ahead was an ordinary office building with a plaque that read “Zhuoding Advertising Co., Ltd.” He had never heard of it.

She swiped her card at the entrance and entered with other employees.

Shen Chumo borrowed a card from someone else to try to slip in, but as soon as he approached, the warning light flashed gray, and a security guard appeared to chase him out. Though forcibly entering would have been possible, he worried about affecting the rules governing this world.

Day Two

Shen Chumo tried several other employees’ cards, but each time he was stopped. He even forged a resume and submitted it to HR, but the moment they saw him, he was rejected:

“Sorry, you do not meet our company’s employment requirements.”

They handed him a score sheet with his interview results.

“You also don’t meet my aesthetic standards,” Shen Chumo muttered, noticing the horns atop HR’s head, slightly annoyed.

Although the HR couldn’t hear him, Shen Chumo’s disdain was obvious. They kicked him out using polished, iron-shod hooves, and the kick was strong enough to leave bruises on his thigh.

“Does she even know I can’t be saved?” Shen Huaixin’s floating voice muttered to the system, receiving the usual silence in reply. She didn’t mind and continued to talk to herself: “Purification has already failed. Why does he still insist…”

Two days ago, despite the protests of Su Zihan and the others, Shen Chumo had resolutely parted from them and entered Shen Huaixin’s source of pollution alone. Here, he returned the core and used his own pollution to feed her, allowing this world to continue functioning, with rules gradually improving and the pollution level subtly rising.

By nightfall, the office building was brightly lit. A slender figure walked out and bought a cup of black coffee at a 24-hour convenience store nearby. She answered a phone call, then manipulated something on the screen. Not far away, Shen Chumo silently observed her expressionless figure. Nostalgia softened his gaze, and he raised the corners of his dry lips silently:

“Sis… you’re working already. Overtime every day must be exhausting.”

Even knowing it was an illusion, he couldn’t restrain himself.

After she left, Shen Chumo entered the convenience store, bought the same coffee, and upon tasting it, immediately spat it out—there was a strong smell of machine oil.

Day Three

The weather was foggy with a light drizzle. On her rare day off, Shen Huaixin entered a café, put away her umbrella, and followed the staff to a window-side table. She opened her laptop and began typing, her eyes dull and lifeless. The monotonous rhythm of her keystrokes made one feel drowsy, as if sinking into eternal slumber amidst endless tedium.

Even Shen Huaixin herself frowned at the sight, realizing it was meaningless to continue watching.

She sighed and summoned the system: “I’ve stayed long enough. I should go.”

[System: Understood.]

Shen Chumo had somehow appeared inside the café, passing through her transparent form to stand opposite her, knocking on the glass and speaking. But in this world of silence, his words vanished as soon as they left his mouth.

[System: Host is about to begin crossing over. Prepare yourself. Three…]

Shen Chumo knocked again. Shen Huaixin finally noticed him, lifting her eyelids to look blankly, her gaze void of highlight.

He quickly opened a notebook. The first page read: Hello. He flipped to the next: I want to be your little brother.

Shen Huaixin, sitting at her table, expression stiff, neither happy nor sad, prepared to turn back to work. Shen Chumo knocked again.

[System: Two…]

Shen Huaixin, preparing to return to her original world, found him both cute and pitiful. She had never considered him her little brother; he could only write his wish on paper for the unconscious sister after her contamination. If not for his circumstances, perhaps…

Shen Chumo turned to the third page, looking seriously at her, opening his mouth to read the words aloud:

“This way, you can be yourself.”

“…”

[Shen Huaixin: Wait! Hold on!]

Shen Huaixin floated down, hovering before him. His gaze pierced her, focusing on the girl in the café. His eyes were still clear like a child’s, though heavier with quiet pain. He spoke softly, but the words vanished before reaching her ears.

She suddenly wanted to know what he was saying. Very badly.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Suddenly, thunder boomed, shattering the silence of this enclosed world. Every sound—the splashing of car tires in puddles, hurried footsteps of people avoiding rain—burst clearly into the world.

Then, torrential rain fell. The “pitter-patter” on the glass soaked Shen Chumo’s face. The paper in his hands gradually gathered dark water stains.

His eyelids didn’t move; the wind and rain could not close his eyes. He stared at her steadily:

“…As long as you want, you can do it.”

Shen Huaixin caught only the last sentence, but it was enough. She rubbed her eyes, pursed her lips, and choked back her words.

She had misunderstood him—he wanted to be her little brother, not for himself, but for her.

In the café, the virtual “Shen Huaixin” in the pollution source didn’t react like the real one; she typed mechanically, sipping coffee at fixed intervals.

“Your world… I want to understand it more,” he whispered, not giving up despite her silence. “It’s just… too late.”

Days Four to Ten

Shen Chumo gradually understood the rules of this world. As pollution worsened, it became increasingly bizarre. Neon lights at night pooled into rainbow-colored oil, flowing into sewers. Skyscrapers warped. Night lights could stay on for days. Many low-level employees gradually grew long donkey ears. The senior HR with horns from his interview grew even more massive. They didn’t need to go home; a little grass was enough to keep working until they collapsed.

The noise around Shen Huaixin increased, yet she remained silent. Her daily routine involved only work, her sounds limited to typing and ringing phones, her indifferent face shadowed with gloom.

Shen Chumo donned a fake donkey ear and successfully infiltrated the company. He finally realized the truth: these weren’t humans. The staff were all bionic—cows, horses, or donkeys. Naturally, a living human applying was immediately rejected.

Inside the office, rows of cubicles offered no personal space. Identical laptops and files occupied each desk. Everyone typed at their keyboards, creating a mechanical roar like a massive engine.

Shen Huaixin entered her boss’s office. Through the glass door, scolding could be heard. After more than ten minutes, she emerged, even more expressionless, returning to her workstation like a component seamlessly integrated into the machine.

When Shen Huaixin left her desk, Shen Chumo secretly swapped her coffee for milk tea. She drank a few sips unknowingly, but sparks flew from her body. Her head tilted, her eyes completely extinguished. Shen Chumo realized the truth—she was not human, but a humanoid machine.

Her breakdown caught the boss’s attention. At the repair shop, papers stamped with “subsidy,” “work injury,” and “sick leave” flew toward him. He dodged with surprising agility, flicking a termination notice back with a ringed finger.

After repairs, Shen Huaixin learned she had been fired. Her face went pale.

She remained silent as always, selecting a discounted coffee at a convenience store. Shen Chumo realized she was drinking fuel—necessary for her survival. Human food would not sustain her.

After losing her job, Shen Huaixin received a call that triggered unprecedented frustration. She walked to the subway station, collapsing to the ground, burying her head in her knees, shoulders trembling. Around her, a vortex formed, filled with floating symbols resembling voice icons, some marked with red dots, indicating playback.

She covered her ears, but as the red dots flashed, the voices began to play automatically, looping endlessly:

“Two years on the job, and still making such a basic mistake.”

“Xingxing, your brother needs money for school. Family should help each other. He’ll repay you once he starts working.”

“Submit the form tonight. Thank you for your hard work.”

The vortex grew, eventually enveloping Shen Huaixin completely, spreading through the entire subway station.