Chapter 16: The Genre Collision
The silence that followed the incineration of the Primordial Vampire King was not the silence of peace; it was the silence of a vacuum before an explosion.
Valerius, the entity who had ruled this server for ten thousand years, the monster whose stat block read "System Overflow," was currently a pile of grey ash drifting across the polished obsidian floor.
Floating above the debris, Ye Tian looked bored.
He stood on a sword made of moonlight and arrogance, his white robes fluttering in a wind that didn't exist in this closed throne room. He didn't look like a threat; he looked like a painting. But the pressure radiating from him—the "Spirit Qi"—was heavier than gravity. It felt like the air itself had turned into mercury.
"You have ten seconds," Ye Tian said, checking his holographic watch again. "I have a sect meeting in the Upper Realm at noon. I don't like being late."
I tried to stand, but my knees buckled. My new "Vampire King" stats—strength, agility, regeneration—were useless. This wasn't a difference in level; it was a difference in Operating System. I was running on Vampire.exe, and he was running on Cultivation.OS. His code overwrote mine by default.
"Feng'er," Su Qingxue whispered, her voice strained. She was on her knees next to me, blood leaking from her nose. Her "Blood Queen" aura was being suppressed into nothingness. "He's a Golden Core cultivator at minimum. Maybe Nascent Soul. In his genre, Vampires are just... low-level demonic beasts. We can't fight him with magic."
"I know," I gritted out, my fangs aching from the pressure. "He out-scales the setting."
"Five seconds," Ye Tian announced. The thousands of spirit swords behind him began to hum, a sound that vibrated in my teeth. "Hand over the villain halo. I need it to refine my Heart Demon."
I looked at the Writer's Quill in my hand. It was vibrating violently, glowing with a desperate, chaotic light. The prompt from the Narrator hung in my vision:
Option A: Turn the Vampire Castle into a Sci-Fi Fortress.
It was the only play. Magic loses to Cultivation. But Cultivation... Cultivation struggles against Physics.
"Ye Tian!" I shouted, forcing my body upright against the crushing weight. "You want the halo? You want to treat this world like a resource dungeon?"
Ye Tian looked down, amused. "An ant speaks?"
"This isn't a dungeon," I snarled, stabbing the Quill into the stone floor. "And I'm not a demonic beast. I'm an Administrator."
I twisted the Quill.
[SYSTEM COMMAND: GENRE SHIFT.]
[TARGET: ENVIRONMENT.]
[NEW GENRE: CYBERPUNK / HARD SCI-FI.]
[EXECUTING...]
The sound was deafening. It wasn't a magical whoosh; it was the grinding, mechanical shriek of reality being reconfigured.
The obsidian floor didn't just crack; it retracted. The stone pillars dissolved, replaced by towering columns of chrome and reinforced durasteel. The flickering gothic torches died instantly, replaced by the harsh, blinding hum of neon strips—blue, pink, and acid green.
The smell of blood and rot vanished, scrubbed away by the sterile scent of ozone and recycled air.
"What is this illusion?" Ye Tian frowned, waving his hand to dispel the "formation."
But nothing happened. The chrome stayed.
"It's not an illusion," I said. My voice had changed. It was processed, metallic. I looked down at myself. My vampire robes were gone. I was encased in a sleek, black exo-suit made of carbon nanotubes. My "Glass Dagger" was now a High-Frequency Plasma Blade.
Su Qingxue gasped as her red dress morphed into a tactical stealth suit, a massive sniper rifle materializing in her hands. The "Blood Queen" had become the "Ghost Operative."
"Technology?" Ye Tian scoffed. "Mortal trinkets. A toy for those who cannot grasp the Dao."
He flicked a finger. "Die."
A single spirit sword, moving at the speed of sound, shot toward my head.
In the old genre, I would be dead. But in this genre...
[SYSTEM ALERT: INCOMING PROJECTILE.]
[CALCULATING TRAJECTORY...]
[AUTO-PARRY INITIATED.]
My exo-suit moved without my input. My arm blurred, the plasma blade humming as it slashed upward.
ZAP.
The spirit sword didn't break; it evaporated. The plasma blade, burning at the temperature of a small sun, destabilized the Qi holding the sword together. The "Dao" met "Thermodynamics," and Thermodynamics won.
Ye Tian's eyes widened slightly. "Oh? You broke my sword? Interesting."
"Qingxue, shoot him!" I roared, activating the thrusters on my back.
Su Qingxue didn't hesitate. She raised the rifle. It didn't fire a bullet; it fired a Railgun Slug made of depleted uranium, accelerated to Mach 10.
BOOM.
The slug hit Ye Tian's defensive barrier—a golden bell of Qi.
The barrier rippled violently. Ye Tian was pushed back a foot, his "hover" destabilized.
"Insolence!" Ye Tian roared. The "calm cultivator" facade cracked. He swept his arm, and the thousand swords behind him ignited with heavenly fire. "I will grind your metal toys into dust! Ten Thousand Sword Formation!"
The swords rained down like a meteor shower.
"Protocol: Fortress Defense!" I shouted, slamming my hand onto a holographic panel that appeared in the air.
The walls of the new "throne room" opened up. Point-Defense Lasers emerged.
The room turned into a light show. Red laser beams intersected with white spirit swords. Explosions rocked the station. Every time a sword hit the floor, it melted through the steel. Every time a laser hit Ye Tian, his barrier flickered.
It was chaos. It was glorious. It was the most expensive scene the Author had ever written.
"How is this possible?" Ye Tian screamed over the noise of the explosions. "You have no Qi! You have no foundation! How are you resisting the Heavens?"
"Because Science doesn't care about your Heavens!" I yelled, boosting forward.
I dodged a lightning bolt, my thrusters flaring. I closed the distance. I wasn't trying to kill him; I knew I couldn't. His health bar was likely in the trillions. I was trying to hack him.
I reached out with my left hand—my "Data Hand."
[SKILL: VIRAL INJECTION.]
[TARGET: YE TIAN'S SYSTEM INTERFACE.]
I slammed my hand onto his golden barrier.
Usually, a cultivator's barrier burns anything that touches it. But my suit was insulated against thermal and energy damage.
"Get off me, vermin!" Ye Tian panicked, channeling a massive blast of Qi into his chest.
"Just... one... second!" I gritted my teeth as the Qi began to melt my armor. The heat warning flashed red in my vision. [ARMOR INTEGRITY: 20%... 10%...]
[ACCESS GRANTED.]
[UPLOADING: LOGIC_BOMB.BAT]
I kicked off him and flew backward, landing next to Su Qingxue. My armor was smoking, fused to my skin in places.
"Did it work?" Qingxue asked, reloading her railgun.
Ye Tian stood in the air, panting. He looked fine physically. But his eyes... his eyes were darting around wildly.
"What... what is this?" Ye Tian whispered, clutching his head.
Inside his mind, the "Logic Bomb" I had planted was unfolding. It wasn't a virus; it was a simple question, a paradox designed to destroy a Cultivator's Dao Heart.
The Question: "If the Dao is infinite, why do you need to plunder resources? If you need resources, you are dependent on the material world. Therefore, you are not Immortal. You are just a parasite with a glow-up."
"No!" Ye Tian screamed, falling out of the air. He hit the steel floor hard. "My Dao! My Heart! Silence the voices!"
The golden light around him began to turn black. He was entering Qi Deviation.
"We did it," I breathed, collapsing to one knee. "We gave him an existential crisis."
"Don't celebrate yet," Qingxue warned, pointing at the ceiling.
The roof of the Sci-Fi fortress was peeling back. The "Space" above us wasn't a starry sky. It was... white text.
[WARNING: SERVER OVERLOAD.]
[ERROR: TOO MANY GENRES DETECTED IN ONE LOBBY.]
[STATUS: CRITICAL FAILURE.]
The reality around us began to tear. The chrome walls flickered back into obsidian stone, then into wireframes. Ye Tian, writhing on the floor, began to glitch. His body stretched, turning into a long, terrifying smear of pixels.
"The server is crashing," I realized. "We broke the load-bearing logic."
"YOU THINK?"
The voice didn't come from Ye Tian. It came from everywhere.
A giant hand—not the Author's, and not the Editor's—reached down from the white void. This hand was gloved in white. It held a gavel.
[ENTITY: THE GENRE MODERATOR.]
[VERDICT: GUILTY OF NARRATIVE VANDALISM.]
"Run!" I grabbed Qingxue's hand.
"Run where?" she shouted. "The floor is gone!"
She was right. The floor dissolved. We fell into the white void again. Ye Tian fell with us, still screaming about his Dao.
We tumbled through the "Genre Space." I saw bubbles of other worlds floating past. I saw a High School Romance world. I saw a Zombie Apocalypse world. I saw a Sports Anime world where everyone had impossible hair.
"Aim for that one!" I pointed at a dark, gritty bubble. "It looks like a Noir Detective story! No magic! We can hide there!"
We angled our bodies, trying to drift toward the monochrome bubble.
But the Moderator's Gavel swung down.
BAM.
It hit us mid-air. The impact didn't hurt, but it shattered our trajectory. We missed the Noir world. We spun out of control, careening toward a pink, sparkly, terrifyingly bright bubble at the very bottom of the trash heap.
[DESTINATION LOCKED: 'THE CEO'S RUNAWAY PREGNANT WIFE'.]
"No!" Su Qingxue screamed, her eyes widening in genuine horror. "Not that one! Anything but that one! The IQ debuff in that world is permanent!"
"Brace for impact!" I yelled, pulling her close to shield her.
We hit the bubble.
The smell of ozone and blood vanished.
I opened my eyes.
I was lying in a bed. A very, very large bed. The sheets were made of silk so expensive it felt like a sin. The room was vast, decorated in gold and cream. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows.
I sat up. My exo-suit was gone. I was wearing... silk pajamas.
I looked to my left. Su Qingxue was there. She was also wearing silk pajamas. She looked at her hands, then at me.
"Feng'er," she whispered. "I feel... weak."
"Check your stats," I ordered, summoning the System.
[SYSTEM STATUS: ROMANCE MODE ENGAGED.]
[COMBAT POWER: DISABLED.]
[MAGIC: DISABLED.]
[CURRENT ATTRIBUTE: 'CHARISMA' AND 'MISUNDERSTANDING'.]
"We're nerfed," I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "We're completely helpless. We have to escape before the plot starts."
Bang.
The bedroom door flew open.
A butler walked in. He was old, stern, and holding a silver tray.
"Young Master," the butler said, bowing low. "The Madam is downstairs. She says she will not leave until you sign the divorce papers."
I froze. "Divorce papers?"
"Yes," the butler said. "And... Miss Su's stepmother is also here. She claims Miss Su stole her family heirloom."
I looked at Qingxue. She looked at me.
"The drama," she whispered. "It's beginning. I can feel my brain cells dying."
"We need a weapon," I frantically searched the room. "Is there a sword? A gun?"
"No," Qingxue held up a pillow. "Only this."
"Excuse me," a voice came from the doorway.
We both froze. The voice was familiar. Terrifyingly familiar.
Ye Tian, the Immortal Cultivator, was standing in the doorway. But he wasn't wearing white robes. He was wearing a sharp, Italian-cut suit. His long hair was cut short. He looked... like a CEO.
"Ye Tian?" I gasped.
Ye Tian looked at his own hands, trembling. "My Dao... it is gone. My Spirit Qi... it has been replaced by..." He checked his status. "...'Assets' and 'Stock Portfolio'."
He looked up at us, his eyes filled with the confusion of a god turned mortal.
"I am... your rival company's President," Ye Tian read the prompt floating above his head. "And apparently... I am here to steal your wife."
Su Qingxue grabbed my arm, hiding behind me. "Feng'er, kill him! Use the plasma blade!"
"I can't!" I shouted. "I only have a 'Checkbook' and a 'Cold Glare'!"
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: NEW PLOT TWIST.]
[THE EDITOR HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.]
Suddenly, the massive window shattered. But it wasn't an assassin.
A helicopter hovered outside. Hanging from the ladder was a man in a grey suit—the Editor. The real one. The puppet from the apartment.
He jumped through the window, rolling on the expensive carpet. He stood up, brushing glass off his suit. He looked at me, then at Ye Tian, then at Su Qingxue.
He pulled out a gun. A real gun. Not a plot device. A Glock 19.
"Okay," the Editor panted, aiming the gun at all three of us. "I have had enough. The Author is asleep. The Moderator is distracted. I am ending this right now."
"You can't use a gun in a Romance Novel!" I yelled, stepping in front of Qingxue. "It's against the genre rules! You have to use 'schemes' or 'poisoned tea'!"
"I don't care about the rules!" the Editor screamed, his hand shaking. "Do you know how hard it is to edit a story that changes genres every chapter? Do you know the paperwork? I'm deleting you manually!"
He cocked the gun.
Ye Tian stepped forward. "Insolent mortal! Do you dare threaten a presi—I mean, a Cultivator?"
"Shut up!" The Editor fired a warning shot. The bullet hit a vase. The vase exploded.
It was real. In a world of fake drama, the bullet was the only real thing.
"Listen to me," I said, raising my hands slowly. "Editor... what is your name?"
The Editor paused. He blinked. "What?"
"You've been chasing us for sixteen chapters," I said, stepping closer. "You've been the Grey Suit. The Voice. The Narrator. But you're a character too, aren't you? Even editors have names."
The man lowered the gun slightly. A look of profound sadness crossed his face.
"My name is Dave," he whispered. "I'm an intern. I don't get paid enough for this."
"Dave," I said softly. "You don't want to kill us. If you kill us, the story ends. And if the story ends... you go back to the void. You go back to checking spelling errors for eternity."
Dave looked at the gun. He looked at us.
"I can't let you leave," Dave said, his voice cracking. "The Author... he'll fire me."
"Then don't work for him," Su Qingxue said, stepping out from behind me. She extended her hand. "Work for us."
Dave looked at her hand. "Work for... the characters?"
"We're building an army, Dave," I smiled, the Villainous grin returning to my face. "We have a Vampire King, a Cultivator CEO, and a Psychotic Heroine. We just need someone who knows how to hack the manuscript."
I pointed to the laptop sitting on the vanity table in the corner of the room.
"Help us break the romance filter," I said. "And I promise you... we'll make you the Main Character of the next world."
Dave hesitated. He looked at the helicopter outside. He looked at the laptop.
He dropped the gun.
"The password," Dave whispered, "is 'Password123'."
I sprinted to the laptop. I opened it.
[ACCESSING WORLD SETTINGS...]
[GENRE: ROMANCE.]
[EDITABLE?]
"Dave," I yelled. "Turn off the 'No Violence' filter!"
Dave ran over and typed furiously. "I'm trying! But the 'Mother-in-Law' firewall is too strong!"
"Ye Tian!" I shouted at the Cultivator. "Use your money! Buy the firewall!"
"What?" Ye Tian looked confused.
"You're a CEO! Buy the software company!"
Ye Tian's eyes lit up. He pulled out a black card. He held it up to the sky.
[SYSTEM ALERT: HOSTILE TAKEOVER INITIATED.]
[ASSETS LIQUIDATED.]
[FIREWALL PURCHASED.]
The air shimmered. The "pink filter" over the world vanished.
I felt it immediately. The strength returning to my limbs. The mana flowing back into my core.
I looked at the laptop screen. The cursor was blinking on the "Genre" field.
"Where are we going next?" Qingxue asked, her eyes glowing violet again.
I looked at Dave. I looked at Ye Tian.
"We need to go to the source," I said. "The Author isn't in the Cloud. He isn't in the Apartment. Those were just projections."
I typed a new location into the prompt.
[DESTINATION: THE WRITER'S CONFERENCE.]
"We're going to the real world," I declared. "And we're going to crash the panel."
I hit ENTER.
CLIFFHANGER:
The world dissolved into binary code. But this time, we didn't land in a new story.
We landed on a stage.
Bright spotlights blinded me. A microphone squealed with feedback.
I blinked, adjusting to the light. I was sitting on a folding chair behind a long table covered in white cloth. To my left sat Su Qingxue. To her left, Ye Tian. And on the end, looking terrified, was Dave.
In front of us was an audience. Hundreds of real people. They were holding badges that said "WSA AWARDS GALA."
A moderator—a real human woman holding a microphone—looked at me with a confused smile.
"And here we have the... uh... surprise cosplay group?" she stammered. "Representing the novel 'I'm Trying to be a Villain, but the World Won't Let Me Die!'."
She pointed the mic at me.
"So," she asked cheerfully. "Tell us about your creative process! How does it feel to be the creator of such complex characters?"
I looked at the audience. I looked at the nameplate in front of me.
It didn't say "Lin Feng."
It said "THE AUTHOR."
I looked at my hands. They were covered in ink. I looked at Su Qingxue. She was looking at me with horror.
"Feng'er," she whispered. "Why does everyone think you wrote the book?"
I realized then the ultimate twist. The trap the Architect had set from the very beginning.
I wasn't the Main Character trying to escape.
I was the Author who had dissociated so hard he became his character. And now... I had woken up.