My Avatar Is Becoming the Final Boss-Chapter 63: Suspicion

In Ji Minghuan’s mind, Su Zimai wasn’t some heartless, unfeeling kid.
Ever since their mother passed, her emotions had rarely been cared for, which led her to develop a kind of tsundere nature—pretending to be indifferent around family. Kids who grow up with neglected emotions often end up withdrawn and aloof.
But deep down, she cared a lot about her older brother, Gu Qiye.
If she ever found out that Gu Qiye was Blue Arc, she’d probably start by fiercely condemning her own heart, and maybe—just maybe—she’d do a total one-eighty and become one of those “Blue Arc extreme fans” she always complains about.
Online or offline, the moment someone insulted Blue Arc, she’d charge in saying, “My brother has to look after two younger siblings and save the world. If you hate him, you might as well kill me first, you dumba**.”
Thinking of this, Ji Minghuan couldn’t help but chuckle. What he was even more curious about was how this overly righteous little sister would react when she found out their dad was a super-criminal.
Would she team up with their older brother to serve justice within the family, or would she sit at the dinner table and try to talk Dad into turning himself in?
“There he is again. He’s really popping up a lot lately...” Ke Qirui murmured while looking up at the TV.
Her words caught Ji Minghuan’s attention, and he followed her gaze.
After covering the Da Zhonghou incident, the news anchor moved on to the Green Wing case. Blue Arc was again the central figure, but this time, a strange silhouette appeared onscreen—a man hanging upside down beneath a billboard, looking like an insect cocoon.
Su Zimai glanced at the black cocoon on TV, her eye twitching, and said with clear disdain, “Ugh... I don’t even want to look at that thing. It’s been trending everywhere lately. What’s it doing chasing me all the way to Japan?”
Hah. Can you mind your language a little? That “thing” is sitting right next to you, mooching off your sushi, Ji Minghuan thought, rolling his eyes at her.
“Right, wasn’t it my brother who said this bug guy’s look was cool and attention-grabbing? What do you think, Captain?”
Su Zimai asked with a sideways glance at Ji Minghuan.
Her expression was somewhat expectant, like she was waiting for her captain to roast her "good brother’s" taste—but to her dismay, the answer was completely not what she hoped for.
“Hmm...” Ke Qirui stared at the man in the trench coat on the TV, thoughtful. “I think his design has a kind of symbolic beauty to it. The binding restraints, the cocoon... like someone trapped, trying to cry for help through this form. The tailcoat, the books, the absurd and casual way he speaks—it all feels like he’s hiding something real behind those props.”
She added offhandedly, “All these elements are fragmented and contradictory, yet there’s a strange aesthetic to them. It’s like something you’d see at an art exhibition—it makes you curious about what kind of person lies behind that mask.”
Cough... cough cough... Ji Minghuan choked on his water, coughing a couple of times before grabbing a peanut with his chopsticks and stuffing it into his mouth. He casually mumbled, “Great taste.”
He thought: though the person under the mask is literally sitting next to you right now, so maybe tone down that curiosity.
Still, he hadn’t expected someone to so accurately guess his inner state, even by accident. Maybe Ke Qirui studied art psychology or something.
Su Zimai cradled her face with both hands and sighed deeply. “Sigh... you two are hopeless. A giant flapping moth gets you all impressed. Is there a single normal person around me?”
There really isn’t, Ji Minghuan thought to himself.
Ke Qirui sipped her tea and said calmly, “If I had the chance, I’d really like to meet this ‘Black Cocoon.’”
Her gaze dropped to the reflection in her teacup, recalling the message Queen Colossus had relayed to her back at Roppongi EX Theater:
—I won’t work with you, but a black mummy... might consider it.
Ji Minghuan glanced sideways at Ke Qirui’s distracted expression and thought:
“Don’t worry, Black Cocoon will come find you in a few days.”
Su Zimai said expressionlessly, “Well, I hope I don’t. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop myself from spraying his face with bug spray. And that big moth guy—what’s his name again, Black something—talks too much. I might just shoot him in the throat on instinct.”
“Geez, sis, could you be more violent?” Ji Minghuan shivered beside her.
He thought: but don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of chances to fight it out at the auction in a few days.
Soon, the food arrived. It was a massive spread—Su Zimai had practically ordered enough to fill the entire bar counter.
The fatty pink flesh of bluefin tuna glistened with oily sheen. The live Arctic surf clams curled slightly at the edges. The seared salmon wore a caramelized glaze. And across the counter were sea urchin, foie gras sushi, and more...
Seeing it all, Ji Minghuan finally understood what a “gourmet feast” really meant. Whether it was a feast or not he wasn’t sure—what he did know was that he was about to turn into the glutton.
He picked up a gunkan sushi roll with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth. The orange-red fish roe sparkled on the white rice, each one bursting with juice. As he chewed, Ji Minghuan spaced out.
He had known Ke Qirui was rich, but not this rich. This meal alone had to cost over a million yen—around 50,000 RMB. And the food kept coming, no sign of stopping.
Before the food arrived, Ji Minghuan had been mentally pumped: I’m gonna eat them broke. Sushi after sushi—I’ll make that sugar mama suffer.
But now? Who knew if they were going broke—his dignity certainly was.
I’m just some orphanage brat—how do I even deserve this? The gap between people is too damn wide. Maybe the world should just go ahead and end already, he thought.
“Sis, are you trying to bankrupt your teacher?” Ji Minghuan asked while blankly chewing sushi, turning to Su Zimai.
“Heh, my teacher has plenty of money,” Su Zimai replied proudly, like it was her own wallet on the line.
“So what kind of teacher is she to you, exactly?” Ji Minghuan asked curiously.
“None of your business.”
“She didn’t teach you how to hit on girls, did she?”
“Shut up.”
Hearing the exchange, Ke Qirui’s clear eyes narrowed with amusement.
She turned to Ji Minghuan and said slowly, “Sounds like... you’ve got the wrong idea about me. I’ll have you know, even though I look like a lesbian, my orientation is totally normal.”
Then she smirked and teased with deadpan seriousness: “So if your sister really is into girls, that’s definitely not my fault.”
“Captain, you shut up,” Su Zimai muttered, chopsticks still in her mouth.
“Who’s paying for our dear Mai Mai’s dinner then?”
“Pay first, shut up after,” Su Zimai surrendered to the power of money.
Whether or not Ke Qirui actually shut up was unclear. But Ji Minghuan, after eating his fill, definitely rolled out on his own. He was exhausted—controlling two bodies all day was a mental drain no normal person could handle. Even he was starting to feel the fatigue.
He said goodbye to the two and left the sushi place, then pulled out his phone to navigate to the hotel Gu Qiye had booked.
After Ji Minghuan left, Ke Qirui pulled her phone from her trench coat pocket, glanced at a message, and said, “By the way, I just got a notification from the Association. They say Blue Arc has arrived in Japan.”
Su Zimai asked carelessly, “Oh? So when are we meeting them?”
“In a few days, probably.” Ke Qirui paused. “Speaking of which... don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence?”
Su Zimai tilted her head. “What do you mean?”
Ke Qirui was silent for a moment. “Your brother just happened to arrive in Japan tonight. And right after that, the Association tells me Blue Arc’s landed in Tokyo too. Don’t you think... it’s a bit too coincidental?”
Su Zimai blinked, thinking for a moment with her chopsticks still in her mouth, then asked:
“Captain, you’re not trying to say my second brother is... Blue Arc, are you?”
By the end, she couldn’t hold back a laugh, as if she’d just heard the biggest joke in the world.
But Ke Qirui didn’t laugh. She turned her head, calmly looked at her—and slowly nodded.
The smile faded from Su Zimai’s face.
And for a moment, the entire world seemed to go quiet.