The Cannon Fodder Who Fell in Love at Art School - Chapter 2

No, this looks too weird.

Oh, come on, you have to wear it, baby. You’re too cute, Jeming said, clutching his chest dramatically.  I can already imagine how many people will confess to you at the party tonight.

Hearing that, Fang Chen only grew more determined to change out of it.

But Jeming held tightly onto his arm. “Listen, babe, it’s an animal-themed costume party. This is exactly how everyone’s dressing. You’ll blend right in, I promise.

Fang Chen pressed his lips together, glancing at his reflection in the mirror again and again. His ears burned red with embarrassment.

He had never worn anything like this before. To be precise, it wasn’t just an outfit, it was a one-piece bodysuit. The fabric was creamy white, soft and fuzzy to the touch, though surprisingly light.

The shorts part was like puffed bloomers, ending just above his thighs. The most humiliating part was the small round ball attached to the back.

A little lamb, Jeming teased, pinching the fuzzy ball with a grin. “I caught your tail.

Cut it out, Fang Chen said helplessly.  Then what about you? What are you wearing?

Relax, of course I’ve got something prepared. 

Jeming took a few clips out of the closet and attached them to Fang Chen’s head. They were little lamb ears, white and fluffy with a faint pink tint.

As for himself, he was much more casual. He simply put on a headband.  I’m Mr. Fox tonight. Alright, let’s go I’ve got some friends I want you to meet.

Jeming grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him toward the door. Fang Chen struggled a little. Wait, hold on, do I really have to wear this?

Resistance was futile. Jeming tugged harder. “Come on! We’ll miss the start. Don’t you want to sell that watch of yours?”

That hit Fang Chen right where it hurt poverty. He sighed silently and gave in, awkwardly following Jeming in his ridiculous lamb costume.

He had never attended this kind of party before. His only understanding of them came from the TV dramas he’d seen, he imagined flashing disco balls, deafening music, and wild crowds.

But it turned out to be the exact opposite.

When they arrived, he found the lighting dim and amber-hued, the atmosphere strangely intimate. The venue looked like a cave literally. There were no tables or chairs, just rock-like stools, and candles flickered from little hollows in the stone walls.

And with everyone dressed as different animals, Fang Chen couldn’t shake the illusion that he had wandered into some strange alternate world, where beasts had taken human form to sip wine and chat in low voices under dim lights.

While he was still taking in the scene with wide eyes, Jeming had already whistled flirtatiously at a man wearing bull horns and started chatting him up.

“Babe, you go explore a bit on your own. I’ll find you later.”

Before Fang Chen could reply, Jeming had already walked off, arm-in-arm with the “bull,” whose large hand had promptly slid down to squeeze Jeming’s backside.

Fang Chen quickly turned his head away.

Fine. Let him have his fun. It would make selling tickets easier.

The question was how to find a rich buyer?

He looked around, but everyone was dressed up, so it was hard to tell who might actually have money.

As he wandered past a curtained alcove, curiosity got the better of him and he peeked inside only to catch two people in a passionate kiss.

One of them paused, squinting at him with an amused smile. 

“Hey, little lamb, want to join us?”

Fang Chen’s face turned red and pale all at once. 

“N-no, sorry, please continue.”

He spun around and bolted out of there.

“Joey!” The girl sitting on the man’s lap glared. “You didn’t tell me you liked guys!”

No, baby, I was just joking,  Joey soothed quickly, cupping her face and kissing her cheek.

 You think I’m into men? Please. You know I only like you.

Then why mention that name?” she asked, perking up. “Is he really coming tonight?

He said he might, but who knows when.  Joey’s voice dropped as he kissed her again.  Forget about that stone-faced guy. Come over to my place tonight we’ll watch a movie.

And after the movie…?

He smirked.  We can do something even more fun. Or maybe both at once.

Even after walking a long way, Fang Chen’s cheeks were still hot. 

Okay, fine  he knew people abroad were more open-minded, but this was still a bit much.

He patted his own face. Don’t be embarrassed! Breathe. Reset. Focus!

Selling tickets came first!

He had to sell at least one tonight!

But when he finally looked up, he froze.

Where was he?

The light here was even dimmer than before barely enough to see. The path ahead twisted and turned, and beyond a few meters, it was pure darkness.

A chill crawled up his spine. It looked like the setup of every American horror movie he’d ever watched any moment now, a psycho killer could jump out of the shadows.

He swallowed hard and started to turn back then stopped.

Was that… someone sitting up ahead?

Fang Chen hesitated, inching closer. Yes, a man was sitting lazily on a stone bench, a cigarette between his lips, scrolling through his phone.

He checked carefully that no one else was nearby.

And even in this dim light, the glitter of diamonds on the man’s wrist was unmistakable.

A watch. Covered in gems.

A rich guy.

Found him!

Just then, the man stubbed out his cigarette and looked up sharply, his gaze locking directly on Fang Chen.

Fang Chen’s breath caught.

The man wore a wolf mask black and metallic, its rough texture giving off an ancient, almost oppressive aura. In the dark, those gray-blue eyes staring through the mask made Fang Chen’s heart skip a beat.

For a split second, he truly felt like a little lamb cornered by a wolf.

The man said nothing, just watched him.

Even through the mask, the weight of that gaze was intense. Fang Chen licked his lips nervously and forced himself to step forward.

“Hello, sir.”

Up close, he realized the man wasn’t dressed for the theme at all. Just a crisp shirt and tailored slacks. The shirt was fitted tightly across his chest, hinting at solid muscles beneath.

Only one phrase came to Fang Chen’s mind.
A gentleman on the outside, a beast underneath.

The man raised an eyebrow and put his phone aside, resting one hand casually against his temple as he regarded the boy before him.

Fang Chen hesitated, his voice coming out soft and cautious. “Do you, um… like watching boxing matches?”

“Oh?” The man’s tone was low, almost lazy. “Whose match?”

That deep voice made Fang Chen blink it sounded oddly familiar. But he didn’t have time to think about it. “Sith Bolton’s! You know him, right? He’s, uh… he’s a really great fighter.”

Fang Chen clenched his small fist and gave a little punch in the air, trying to sound enthusiastic.

He was so focused on making a sale that he didn’t notice the man’s gaze growing darker.

Behind the wolf mask, Sith’s expression was cold and unreadable.

So this was the so-called “oil rat”? He had expected a cunning scalper, not… this.

He had already noticed the boy spying on him earlier. Pretending to be on his phone, he’d seen the little lamb costume peeking from behind the rocks fluffy ears, dark hair, and bright eyes.

An Asian boy dressed like that.

Could someone this soft-looking really be the notorious fake ticket seller that even the police couldn’t catch?

Or was that the point playing the harmless lamb to lure people in?

Sith’s voice was calm but chilling.
So then… how much are you selling his tickets for?

Fang Chen glanced again at the man’s watch, its diamonds glinting faintly even in the dim light. Gritting his teeth, he took a deep breath and said boldly,
Four thousand dollars.

Sith almost laughed out loud.

This little fake ticket seller really dared to open his mouth like that.

His lips curved slightly as he asked in a cool, detached tone,
Four thousand dollars for one ticket?

How greedy.

Hopefully, when this kid was sitting in a jail cell later, he wouldn’t regret having such an appetite tonight.

The calm counterquestion made Fang Chen nervous. Afraid that this big fish might slip away, he hurriedly added,
Sir, the price can be negotiated.

No. Four thousand it is.

Sith rose slowly to his feet, adjusting his watch with deliberate ease. But this isn’t the right place to make a deal. Let’s move somewhere more private.

Not the right place?

There was no one else around. The lighting was dim seemed perfectly fine to Fang Chen.

Still, the client had the final say.

He nodded obediently. “Alright, I’ll follow your lead.

It wasn’t until the man stood that Fang Chen realized just how tall he was. As he followed behind, he couldn’t help but size up the difference. The top of his head barely reached the man’s chest and that was with the help of slightly raised heels.

Why did I have to keep the same height and face after transmigrating? he thought bitterly. Everyone here is built like a supermodel it makes me look like I never finished growing!

Grumbling inwardly, he didn’t even notice how far they’d walked until they were outside.

It seemed to be the back exit of the venue. The space was wide open and deserted, the darkness swallowing everything. Not a single light in sight.

A faint unease crept up his spine. Fang Chen instinctively stepped closer to the man, eager to finish the transaction quickly.
“Sir, what payment method would you prefer? Cash is fine, right?”

The man turned his head slightly. Under the faint moonlight, the gray wolf mask looked even more ominous. His voice was slow, calm and cold.

When a little lamb wanders into the wild, it should remember one thing he said softly. “Stay far, far away from the wolves.

“What?”

Before Fang Chen could react, the man’s hand shot out. In one swift, practiced motion, he twisted Fang Chen’s arm behind his back and slammed him against the cold wall.

A sharp gasp escaped his throat.

The man’s low voice brushed past his ear.

Bad little lamb, he murmured.  This is where your game ends.