There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world, but when an ideal life seems within reach, who can truly remain rational?

Once the photos were shown, the room fell into a frenzy.

"Oh my god, how can something this miraculous exist?! It must be a superpower, right?! Definitely a superpower!"

"Doesn't matter what it is—I'm all in on Beautiful Entertainment!"

"So what are the competition rules exactly? Can you give us a hint?!"

Ruan Xing, wearing his thick-rimmed glasses, also fell into deep thought. Was Su Su's overwhelming charisma gained through this selection process, so she's not the source?

After the presentation, everyone's wristbands were collected—supposedly so they could better prepare for the competition.

At the same time, each trainee was assigned a new name, and only after debuting would they be allowed to reclaim their original name.

This kind of tactic seemed familiar—erasing real names to destroy individual consciousness, and only upon achieving true freedom could one reclaim their identity.

Wasn't this a typical method used by sorcerers to control puppets?

Ruan Xing's newly assigned name was 607, while the man with the black neck ring was named 609.

This arbitrary naming method reminded him of the boy with the peach blossom eyes from the Quarantine Center bathroom. If he remembers correctly, the boy was called Si Wu'er (T/N: Homonym of 452 'Sì Wǔ Èr').

452? Was he also a trainee in this entertainment company?

After a dramatic and emotionally charged midnight orientation, the young trainees were buzzing with adrenaline. No one had slept. By seven or eight in the morning, many had already started stretching or doing vocal warmups in the empty space near the classroom.

Ruan Xing sat at the west-facing window, propping up his chin. Outside, the city was already alive with traffic, and street vendors had started their day.

The soft morning light cast delicate curves across his face—but that beauty was blocked by his oversized black-rimmed glasses, dropping his attractiveness from a perfect ten to a six.

He stared out the window, but his ears were perked up, quietly listening to the conversations around him.

It turns out these trainees had all signed up after seeing an online advertisement. Many were the only ones left in their families or lived with elderly relatives who barely scraped by. It almost felt like the company took pity on them when selecting applicants—like they were being granted a special chance—which deeply moved many youths.

Only the guy with the neck collar remained completely silent.

Fu Gui: [These people were clearly lured here. Similar schemes with so-called "gg plug-ins" were used decades ago—advertising free treatments for rare illnesses, but in reality, they were drug trials. Once the contract was signed, there was no going back. Even if they died, no one cared. After all, wasn't it normal for someone with a terminal illness to die?] (T/N: “GG 插件” (GG zhùjiàn) likely refers to Game Guardian (GG), which is a popular cheating tool/plugin used in mobile games to modify game data (e.g., health, currency). It’s known for memory editing, and people use it to gain unfair advantages in games.)

Fu Gui immediately grasped the key point.

If they were able to debut like Su Su, it would be one thing. However, if they couldn't, the fate that awaited them was unlikely to be a good one. The real world acted as a harsh filter—only a select few could achieve fame. As for those who were eliminated... where did they end up?

Lulu announced that the first round of selection would be held tonight. Only those who passed could continue to the next round.

Just then, a masked person entered, pushing a small cart filled with bowls—each holding a strange-colored liquid in a green ceramic bowl.

"Have some supplements, everyone. No need to be nervous. The first round is pretty simple."

He smiled kindly, and many people gathered around, eagerly downing the liquid in one go.

Ruan Xing was handed a bowl, too, with a faint stench wafting from it. "What is this stuff?"

Lulu recognized him immediately—after all, those thick black glasses were too eye-catching. He also remembered this guy had questioned him earlier, so his tone turned cold: "It's a drink to replenish your energy. We'll be testing you tonight, and this supplement will help you recover quickly."

Ruan Xing nodded and walked away with the bowl.

Most of them had arrived at dawn and hadn't eaten anything. They were already starving and could've devoured a whole cow. One small bowl of supplement wasn't enough.

But strangely, after drinking it, the exhaustion on their faces really did vanish. Their sickly pallor even turned a bit fairer.

There were mirrors next to the classroom. One person caught sight of themselves and dropped their bowl. "This is amazing!"

"I feel so much stronger!"

"All the fatigue is gone!"

Fu Gui: [This seriously looks like they just took drugs.]

Ruan Xing frowned. Even if it were some magical potion to restore stamina, it shouldn't work this instantly. Besides, they had just lost a night of sleep—hardly a reason to require special supplements.

Unless… this thing had other effects.

Ruan Xing poured the liquid into a potted plant nearby. Amazingly, the plant's leaves grew noticeably larger within seconds and even sprouted small flowers.

He noticed that the guy with the black neck collar had also secretly dumped his drink.

After taking the drug, everyone's faces glowed with energy—except for Ruan Xing and the guy with the black collar.

Seeing this, Lulu put on a friendly smile: "Now that everyone's feeling better, the selection will be held tonight. Feel free to explore or rest until then. We'll announce the gathering time through the central broadcast."

"Oh, by the way—the top floor is the Boss's office. It's best if none of you go up there. The Boss really doesn't like being disturbed. But all the other floors are open for exploration. I'll also hand out your dorm key tags. You can rest in the lounge, too."

Ruan Xing was assigned a B tag, the man with the black neck collar got an A tag, and he also noticed someone with an S tag.

Ruan Xing frowned: [I wonder how they assign these tags. Why am I B?]

Fu Gui: [Because you're an SB—oh, I mean, because your glasses are sealing your beauty. Look at that guy with the S tag—he's the most classically handsome of the bunch.] (T/N: "SB" is shorthand for the Chinese insult "傻逼" (shǎbī), which roughly translates to "idiot," "dumbass," or "moron.”)

Ruan Xing: [Oh.]

Fu Gui: [If you take off your glasses, you'd be SSS tier—instant debut material!]

Ruan Xing: [Thanks for the compliment.]

He then turned his attention to the building layout. The bottom three floors were for public reception and interviews, while the floors above were internal company spaces. The top floor was the Boss's office.

The building was fully equipped with a gym, cinema, cafeteria, and recording studio. However, most of the rooms were separated by transparent glass, offering very little privacy—every move could be monitored at any time.

Ruan Xing wandered through the building, but oddly enough, he barely saw anyone. It was broad daylight—normal working hours—yet even the cafeteria was practically empty. It felt like everyone here survived on air, not needing food at all.

But he knew that, including himself, there should be at least six or seven hundred people.

Ruan Xing planned to take the elevator straight to the top floor where the Boss was located. Lulu's warning had long since been thrown to the back of his mind. Upon entering the elevator, he saw a whole row of buttons—but the top floor wasn't among them.

There wasn't even a staircase that led to the top floor.

Looks like some method was used to separate the lower and upper levels.

Fu Gui: [That monster is surprisingly cautious, huh.]

Ruan Xing settled for the next best thing—he went to the floor just below the top and asked Fu Gui: [Where's the most heavily polluted area on this floor?]

Fu Gui poked his head out from his chest and looked around: [Let me see... Got it! The makeup room!]

Ruan Xing changed direction and headed straight for the makeup room.

The makeup room had a huge transparent glass wall, so Ruan Xing could stand in front of it and see the flurry of activity inside.

And the scene answered the question he'd just been pondering—why was the rest of the building so empty? Because everyone was here.

The makeup room was enormous, probably several hundred square meters. Inside, countless makeup stations were packed in like a library's rows of desks. Every mirror had a trainee seated in front of it, all of them dressed in beige-white uniforms, backs facing Ruan Xing.

Their hands never stopped moving. Through the mirrors facing Ruan Xing, he saw that these people were frantically smearing makeup onto their faces.

They used the whitest foundation, the darkest brow pencils, and the brightest red lipstick—layer upon layer. Some muttered to themselves, "Why… am I still not pretty?"

Some were so rough that they knocked over jars and bottles. It was like spilling a palette of paint—liquids of every color were smeared all over their beige clothing, now thickly caked with products. It would've driven any clean freak insane.

But the trainees didn't mind. They stuck their butts out, reached out their hands, and scraped product from the tables and the floor, treating it like precious gold, and continued slathering it onto their faces.

Dust and grime mixed with the product, forming a thick crust over their skin.

The constant movement made the makeup room look like it was in full swing. Everyone was a self-proclaimed makeup guru, as if trying to apply an entire color palette to their face.

Ruan Xing locked eyes with someone in the mirror. Their eyes lit up, and they suddenly stood up and ran to the glass wall, staring wide-eyed and mouth agape: "Why are you so good-looking?!"

Their face flattened against the glass. The foundation, lipstick, eyeshadow, and eyeliner smeared across the wall. As they wiped the wall with their hands, the colors blended together—just like their current mental state: chaotic and despondent.

The words "good-looking" seemed to be a trigger. In the noisy environment of the makeup room, those words caused a ripple effect, causing more and more trainees to stop doing what they were doing. Through the mirrors, they spotted the calm-faced young man standing outside.

Someone screamed and rushed over too. A flat, wide face mashed against the glass, causing his features to be distorted. He slapped the glass and mumbled, "Why are you so good-looking?!"

Ruan Xing: [Seems like the 'black-rimmed glasses theory' doesn't apply to pollutants.]

Fu Gui: [It's over, it's over—your real face is exposed.]

Ruan Xing didn't need to check their wristbands to know that everyone in this makeup room was teetering on the edge of danger.

These people, on the verge of complete pollution, clearly weren't very intelligent anymore. They didn't even notice the door right beside them—instead, they just stared at Ruan Xing intently. If he moved right, they all shuffled right—like ducklings following their mother.

Ruan Xing found it amusing. When he stepped back a little, the group clumsily piled up like a human pyramid. When he got closer, they scrambled down from each other, and the once-pristine glass wall became smeared and chaotic.

This repeated over and over, and soon, their makeup had completely smeared the glass. Many of their faces were now ruined.

Ruan Xing noticed that their faces actually had no skin at all—the foundation was their skin. Once it was rubbed off, they had nothing left but exposed pink muscle tissue streaked with blood.

Red and white intertwined, like slabs of walking pork belly.

"You're here?!"

The boy with the black collar had somehow arrived as well. Seeing the chaotic scene in the makeup room, his expression changed drastically, and he rushed to pull Ruan Xing away.

Ruan Xing didn't resist, letting the boy grab his arm. "Why are you here too?"

The boy walked with a slight limp, and Ruan Xing picked up a faint medicinal scent. It didn't seem like something he was born with.

The boy brought him to a quiet corner, looked around, and finally let out a sigh of relief.

"This place is seriously messed up... You were tricked by your friend. You don't even know what this place is."

Ruan Xing blinked. "You do?"

The boy covered the collar on his neck. "I know a little... but I can't say."

Ruan Xing looked at the black collar on his neck and found it familiar. "So you didn't come here of your own will."

The boy shook his head. "Of course not. Did you see those people just now? Who would want to end up like that?"

He scoffed. "Those are the ones who didn't make it through the competition. You didn't really think this company picks people based on singing and dancing, did you?"

Seeing Ruan Xing's confusion, the boy sighed. "Anyway, leave while you still can. Once the competition starts, it'll be hard to get out."

"Why did you come here?"

The boy looked dejected. "My brother disappeared—he was—"

Just as he was about to continue, the collar around his neck suddenly buzzed. The short hairs on his head stood up, and his face contorted in pain.

Ruan Xing tried to touch him but was zapped. He finally realized that it was a restraint collar.

These are used to prevent the leaking of sensitive information. Once someone attempts to say forbidden content, the collar delivers an electric shock as a warning.

But who would put one of these on a regular civilian?

Ruan Xing watched the boy clutch his neck in pain. With concern on his face, he extended a hand, a faint light—imperceptible to the naked eye—gathered in his palm. "Are you okay?"

The boy's pain suddenly eased, replaced by a look of confusion. "Why... why am I suddenly fine?"

"THERE'S A GHOST AAAAAHHHH!!!"

A scream from not far away echoed through the entire building.