When the World Tree descended upon Earth years ago, it began randomly consuming humans, forcing them into “dungeon” games. These death matches were broadcast live to the world; those who survived became celebrities exploited by corporate interests, while those who perished became nothing more than nourishment for the tree.

Qin Zhaoyan never expected to be involved in this nightmare—until he stumbled upon a delicate, doll-like youth in an exquisite little dress and found himself dragged into a dungeon that very night.

Upon entering, he faced a youth whose body was held together by visible, puppet-like strings. The youth was dressed in a dress that looked suspiciously familiar.

Qin Zhaoyan thought, “…Those are some nice, white legs.”

The youth, Lu Yan, acted incredibly attached to him. Initially, Qin Zhaoyan assumed Lu Yan was simply scared and seeking protection, so he did his best to keep the “fragile” newcomer safe. Little did he know, the live-stream audience was losing their minds.

This wasn’t just any newcomer, this was a legendary “Puppeteer” known for coldly rejecting top-tier guilds and effortlessly sending monsters flying with a few brutal strikes. Yet, here he was, acting “coy and dependent” on a complete novice!

Lu Yan ran a doll shop, building bridges between the living and the dead for players who lost loved ones in the dungeons. His true motive, however, was simple: he was searching for his creator, the puppeteer who brought him into existence.

When he finally found him, Lu Yan hid his true strength and stuck by Qin Zhaoyan’s side, terrified of losing his master again. His devotion began as mere loyalty between a puppet and his master, but he never expected Qin Zhaoyan’s feelings to shift into something far more intense—or that his master would develop a habit of forcing him to wear increasingly scandalous dresses inside the dungeons.

Lu Yan: “Isn’t there a little too little fabric here?”

Qin Zhaoyan: “Don’t worry, I’m here to protect you.”

And so, the audience was treated to the legendary sight of Lu Yan, wearing a white-laced, ruffled dress—kicking a boss into oblivion, with a faint, rounded bite mark visible on his thigh.

Qin Zhaoyan’s face darkened. He reached out, shielding his little boyfriend’s leg with his hand, and smashed the camera to pieces.

Lu Yan: “…” So, that’s what kind of “protection” you meant?

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