I am the master.

When I instinctively called out Jin Ze's name, the man pressing down on my shoulders showed no trace of emotion. He remained in his half-crouched posture, looming over me, unmoving, quietly watching as though the name Jin Ze belonged to someone else. I couldn't imagine what expression lay behind his V-shaped killer mask.

The reason I called out Jin Ze’s name without seeing his face—just the mask—was partly because his clothes matched what Jin Ze wore today exactly, and his build was very similar. But most of all, it was his hands: long, slender, like lamb-fat jade. The first time Jin Ze applied corpse oil makeup to my hand, I was struck by their beauty.

He soon spoke, “Why do you call me Jin Ze? Is that man so important to you?”

Hearing this sent a shiver through me. Suddenly, I sensed a cold, murderous aura emanating from him. My instincts told me he was the most dangerous person I'd ever encountered—not with a savage, bloody rage, but a mysterious, demonic energy.

At that moment, I caught his gaze. Anger simmered in his eyes.

I realized then that his eyes were different from Jin Ze’s. Jin Ze’s were large, bright, and profound—brimming with positive energy, infectious. This man’s were slender, sultry, the kind that could poison your heart, filling you with melancholy.

I shuddered. Damn, I was wrong. He wasn’t Jin Ze—he was only wearing Jin Ze’s clothes! With Jin Ze’s abilities, it was impossible for someone to strip him of his clothes. This man must have bought identical ones.

Instinctively, I asked, “Who are you? Why are you wearing Jin Ze’s clothes? Are you trying to impersonate him, frame him?”

He squinted his seductive eyes and stared at me. “Why would I imitate someone I don’t like?”

His words left me lost. This madman’s world was beyond my comprehension—he spoke of men in terms of liking or not liking.

As I stood there, dazed, he continued, “But you’re right. I admit I am imitating him. I envy him—he gets to be with you every day, fighting by your side. When I wear the same clothes, I feel like I am him, as if I’m with you every day. Even if I can only watch from afar, that’s enough.”

Goosebumps prickled my skin. I couldn’t help but recall the time he sent me a text while spying on me, saying he liked my body and wanted to shower with me…

My mood darkened. Was this terrifying killer really gay?

Strangely, though the thought crossed my mind, I didn’t reject his behavior. Not because I accepted his twisted admiration, but because I sensed deeper meaning in his words. Fighting side by side—his words echoed the suspicions Jin Ze and Liu Snake had. He seemed to treat me as a former comrade. His admiration and constant spying weren’t about liking men, but about longing for me to return to my old self, to fight alongside him again.

Was I once a madman like him?

As these thoughts swirled, a strange light flashed in his eyes.

He suddenly asked, “Yes, that look—A Mu, have you remembered?”

His words sent a chill through me. Did he possess some sort of mind-reading ability? How did he know what I was thinking?

A surge of resistance rose within me. I was just Chen Mu, a perfectly normal man—not some deranged killer’s comrade.

So I blurted, “To hell with you, I haven’t remembered a thing!” I instinctively reached out to push him away. Surprisingly, I wasn’t as afraid as before.

But as my hand touched his chest, I felt his firm, powerful muscles, and was bounced back onto the sofa.

Seated, I immediately sensed a coldness emanating from him.

His gaze lost all warmth, replaced with murderous intent.

Only then did I realize how foolish and reckless I’d been—playing emotional games with a killer, acting petulant. Was I courting death?

Sure enough, with a flick of his right hand, a cold gleam flashed and a small triangular dagger appeared between his fingers, its sharp tip ready to slice my throat.

He suddenly pressed the dagger to my neck. “A Mu, I know you can’t return to who you were. My wishes were delusional. They must have done something to you, made you forget the past. Despite all my efforts, you remember nothing. But I never truly wanted to kill you, because even if you forget, I never will.”

I had no idea what to say. One wrong word and I’d die.

He quickly continued, “A Mu, this time you’ve truly disappointed me. I can accept your amnesia, I can accept you living as a normal man. But I cannot accept your betrayal. You tried to cooperate with the people from Dawn—that I can never forgive. I could die by your hand, but not like this.”

His murderous intent intensified, his eyes flushed with agitation.

I suddenly remembered what Xia had told me: he said he wanted to kill me. Now it seemed he truly meant it—he had murderous intent. He even knew about my conversation with Liu Snake, knew we planned to cooperate. I realized I had provoked this demon, and I was about to be killed.

But I didn’t want to die. My mind raced desperately for a solution.

Just as he was about to slash my throat with the dagger, I cried out, “Stop! Do you dare kill me!?”

He froze, body rigid, suspended in mid-air in an eerie posture.

The murderous look drained from his eyes. He immediately said, “A Mu?”

I jumped to my feet, adopting what I thought was my most twisted look. “My points are too low. I must win!”

A flash of joy crossed his eyes, and he blurted, “Master?”

Honestly, the word stunned me. I was only pretending to have regained some memories, trying to bluff my way through. I never expected he’d call me Master.

Could I once have been more deranged than this killer? Was my position higher than his, requiring him to call me Master?

But was that really me? Even now, I found it hard to believe. Something didn’t add up—I didn’t think I was that kind of person.

After a brief hesitation, I noticed his suspicious gaze.

I couldn’t let him see through me. I forced myself to remain calm and said, “I’ll be honest. I haven’t fully regained my memories, but some images have started to surface. I’m playing a killing game, but my points are too low—I’m about to lose, and I don’t want to. I vaguely recall you’re my companion, but I can’t remember your face or who you are.”

To my surprise, he suddenly leaned forward, pinning me on the sofa again.

He pressed his masked face close to mine and said, “A Mu, if you want to see what I look like, you can take off my mask anytime.”

My heart skipped a beat, and I forgot to breathe. Summoning my courage, I reached for his mask. Though I tried to steady myself, my hand trembled uncontrollably…