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墨書 Inktalez
That day, Lele stood at the center of the studio, dark red drag marks left on the floor where the previous contestant had been taken away.
She wore the designated character outfit—a pink uniform, white shoes, and blunt bangs. The outfit was said to be designed based on her online data: "According to your viewer preferences and psychological algorithms, we have created the most suitable damsel in distress look for you."
This was the seventh season of Ultimate Reality Show, subtitled: "Who Deserves to Live?"
The entire set was circular, surrounded by 36 cameras focused on the central area. The walls were made of reflective glass, each panel hiding a live camera and an operator behind it. You could never tell which camera was zooming in on you because they were always on.
The air conditioning kept a constant temperature, and the lights never dimmed; even during simulated nighttime, a layer of color-changing glass was placed overhead to create the illusion of "late evening."
There was no real night here.
Next to her stood a newly selected contestant, a boy named Luo Zhiyao. He clearly hadn’t yet adapted to the rules of this place, staring at the cameras in silence.
"Don’t stare at them," Lele whispered. "They’ll think you’re provoking them."
"Who?"
"The audience."
The rules of the show were simple: within twenty-one days, each contestant needed to complete ten 'high-pressure challenges.' Those with high viewer ratings would earn the right to survive; those with low ratings would be 'removed.'
'Removal' did not mean elimination, repatriation, or retirement—it meant execution live on air, with the method chosen randomly by audience vote. Up to three methods could be combined at once, such as:
- Throat lock + concrete pouring + electric shock
- Nail removal + endless loop of high-pitched laughter audio + mouth suturing
- "Scenic aesthetic treatment": the head sliced into five layers and coated with frosting for use as a special program cake.
Lele was an experienced contestant; the audience loved her reactions. She knew how to cry, when to plead for mercy, how to contort her body just right when being hit, and how to make herself appear like "a character worth fantasizing about" even in extreme pain.
She once said a line: "I'm not good at acting; I'm just really afraid of dying. You all like to see the real thing, right?" That episode's ratings broke records, and she was repackaged, even getting merchandise.
—
Luo Zhiyao's first challenge was the "Family Judgment Simulation." He was asked to wear his father's old suit and face three chairs in an empty set. Sitting on the chairs were three mannequins dressed in his mother's uniform, playing recordings of past arguments from his home.
Then, a staff member walked in and handed him a hammer. The instruction was simple:
"The audience wants to see you 'deal with family issues.'"
The live chat went wild:
"Smash it! Hit the one in the middle!"
"This editor is amazing!!"
"This is real, not scripted, right?"
"Where can I sign up for this show? I want to see my mom die a hundred times."
Luo Zhiyao initially refused but eventually cried as he brought the hammer down. The blood pack exploded, and the audience cheered.
The next day, he topped the trending searches, ratings soared, and sponsors sent him new styling: "The image of a father in pain," a set featuring broken glasses and tear-streaked makeup.
—
Lele waited for him at his door. The camera focused on the two of them as she sweetly said, "You're amazing; you did so well for your first time."
He wanted to speak but found his throat hoarse. That night, he couldn't sleep. At four in the morning, he finally realized: there was a camera on the ceiling too.
—
The next morning, someone was "removed."
She was the Ninth Contestant, a girl whose voice was too soft. The viewership ratings were too low. The method of execution was determined by a vote:
“Makeup in Barbie style → Shave her head → Hang her limbs → Eye ball photography broadcast → Send her into the human incinerator.”
The entire process was live-streamed. When her eyeball burst, the chatroom exploded with comments:
“This episode is so exciting,” “This is real,” “I suggest slowing it down by 0.5x,” “What’s her name? I want to see her die again.”
—
Luo Zhiyao finally asked Lele: “When do you plan to escape?”
Lele smiled. “Escape? Don’t you understand yet?”
“There’s no outside here.”
She raised her hand and gently pointed to the top of the Studio. There, a massive Glass Wall slowly opened in a place you wouldn’t notice. Inside, rows of spectators dressed in casual clothes munched on popcorn and sipped cola, looking up at the live broadcast below, as if they were at a zoo.
She said:
“We are not locked inside the Studio. We are the only place in this city with cameras.”
“Everyone else is behind the screen.”
Luo Zhiyao looked at the bloodstains on his hands that hadn’t dried yet.
Suddenly, he understood that it wasn’t fake.
It wasn’t acting. It wasn’t a show. It wasn’t a work of fiction.
That was him, seen for the first time.
That was him, in his true form.
The live broadcast wasn’t over.
It had never ended.
That night, the lights changed to a cold blue, signaling the start of “Special Dispatch Day.” Such days were not announced to the public; they were arranged internally. Contestants would never know if tonight was a test, a rehearsal, or an execution.
The air in the room began to humidify, with a fine mist emitted from the ceiling, mixed with trace amounts of adrenaline and hallucinogenic agents.
—
Luo Zhiyao was awakened by a hand slapping his face. "Time to get up," Lele said, her voice mechanical and devoid of emotion.
"We're performing a 'two-person play' tonight, themed around—runaway girl and the kidnapper."
Before he could ask anything, he was dressed in a tattered suit, his mouth smeared with smoky powder, and a fake mustache stuck beneath his nose. He was pushed into a brand new set—an imitation of an old hotel lobby.
The scene was terrifyingly realistic. The floor felt damp underfoot, carrying the scent of dirty laundry; behind the counter, blurred surveillance footage played, while a television broadcasted nonexistent news.
The camera was positioned, the audience was fully seated, and the chatroom was buzzing with excitement:
【So looking forward to tonight】【Will she turn the tables?】【Will the newcomer really get with her?】
【This episode might be a classic, hurry and bring your friends to watch】【+1 want to see a close-up of the choking scene】
—
The lights came on. Lele stood at the staircase, holding a battered Teddy Bear, her eyes red-rimmed. She descended the stairs and said to Luo Zhiyao:
"Uncle, I have nowhere to go... can you take me in?"
He froze, wanting to protest, but a beep echoed in his earpiece—a warning before an electric shock. He understood—if he didn't play along, he would face punishment or something worse.
He forced out a line: "Of course, little sister... it's safe here."
Lele nodded as she walked toward him, softly uttering a line not in the script:
"I first said this line when I was six years old."
"That time, the actor playing my father was burned to death, and the live stream hit over twenty million viewers."
Luo Zhiyao was momentarily taken aback as he watched Lele sit on his lap, the camera instantly focusing on them, and the comments flooded in:
[This pose is too good][She really knows how to act][I’m crying][I can’t take it anymore, I’ll watch this ten times]
She softly added, "Back then, I didn’t understand why he was calling out. I was just following the director's instructions and touched him..."
—
The performance flowed seamlessly, blurring the lines of pain, ambiguity, and chaos just right. Lele always managed to capture the rhythm of the audience's breath, as if she held the city's throat in her hands.
After it ended, viewers voted: "Who gave a better performance tonight?"
The results overwhelmingly favored Lele.
The system displayed: "New contestant, Warning 1: Emotional fluctuations too low. If not improved, processing protocol will be initiated."
—
That night, while Lele was removing her makeup in the dressing room, Luo Zhiyao walked in and looked at her face. Without makeup, she was unremarkable, like any girl you might have seen in a hospital ward, a foster care system, or shelter documents.
She gazed at the mirror and said, "Do you know why I act so well?"
He remained silent.
She whispered, "Because I've lived through all of this before. Before I became a contestant."
His eyes widened.
Lele turned to him and spoke in a tone as straightforward as an instruction manual:
"I am the girl who survived the First Season."
"Back then, the studio didn't have divisions or an art director. I was the only minor contestant. They said if I cried well enough, they would let me stay. In the end, I won. I was reshaped. Fans helped me change my name, pick my outfits, and design my character."
"Since then, I've been in every season. I'm no longer a contestant. I am the benchmark, the standard, the guarantee of quality."
"I am the... mascot of this slaughter."
—
At midnight, Lele's account updated:
【C Zone Benchmark Character: "Lele"】
【Total Viewing Hours Across All Platforms Exceeds 400 Million】
【Upcoming Film: "Lele: Where She Came From"】
—
Under those bright lights, a new producer sat in the control room, looking over Luo Zhiyao's profile. He murmured:
"This newcomer isn't bad; his face is sincere enough. Let's arrange for him to be in the next 'Trust Collapse Simulation' with Lele... The audience loves watching her ruin someone."
And you, as an audience member, haven't changed the channel yet.
You even hit "follow."
You want to know how Lele became this way; you want to know if she will go insane; you want to know if they will die.
This is just the beginning.
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