From Apocalypse To Entertainment Circle (BL)-Chapter 38: A Stage Built on Corpses: The Idol’s Most Fatal Performance 02

Chapter 38: A Stage Built on Corpses: The Idol’s Most Fatal Performance 02

Sian spoke again, gesturing toward the man strangling Marco.

The poor bastard had already fainted.

The man with the silver mask raised his hand and gestured to his subordinate, who immediately let go of Marco’s neck.

Marco collapsed to the ground, but no one dared to approach him, lift him, or even check on his condition.

These men were ruthless—who would dare? Everyone valued their own life, and after Marco was attacked simply for speaking, the rest didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly.

"So, dear sir, is there any particular song you’d like to hear?" Sian asked, bowing respectfully like a noble young aristocrat.

Of course, he was mocking the man, but his movements and posture were so flawless and elegant that they exuded an undeniable charm. Strands of his hair fell on either side of his face, partially concealing his cheeks and half-covering his eyes.

The moment the audience saw this scene, they all sighed. Beauty remained beauty, no matter the circumstances.

Their thoughts made sense—Sian’s current state was rather dishevelled. His clothes were covered in dirt and dust, and there were even a few leaves tangled in his hair. When he bowed, they became even more visible.

Perhaps the masked man saw them as well, which was why his smile widened. Everyone close enough to witness it felt as if death was looming over them.

Those who truly knew the boss understood one thing—he never smiled. If he did, it meant a massacre was about to unfold.

"I don’t have a specific song in mind. You can sing whatever you want," the man said.

"Tsk." Sian clicked his tongue in frustration. He had only wanted to provoke and mock the man.

How had the tables turned on him instead?

"Alright then, I’ll start."

[Whatever. I’ll sing a little for this bastard. I just want this to be over quickly.]

"Wait."

"What now?! Damn it, didn’t you just tell me to sing? I’m going to sing! Why are you stopping me?" Sian’s patience had reached its limit. With everything going on, how could he not be angry?

"Piano." The masked man spoke a single word.

"...What?" Sian wasn’t a mind reader. How was he supposed to know what this damn boss was thinking?

But the man’s subordinates were his most trusted and experienced followers. They had been with him long enough to understand his intentions instantly.

"There must be a piano somewhere here. I’ll bring it so you can play," one of the men said before leaving to search for it.

The audience began to wonder—why would there be a piano in a survival reality show?

Of course, this was the work of the so-called angel, Sian’s oh-so-sweet childhood friend. Knowing just how terrible Sian’s original piano skills were, Song Zijian pressured Director Han into finding an opportunity to force Sian to play, ensuring he would embarrass himself and make the audience hate him even more.

As for how the great masked boss knew about this...

Well, I have no idea.

"Where the hell are you going to find a piano in this abandoned place? Forget it, I’ll just sing a cappella," Sian said, looking at the masked man as "gently" as he could, trying his best not to bare his fangs at him.

But it seemed the man no longer cared for him at that moment.

Resting his chin on his hand, the masked man closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. The air around them grew eerily silent.

"Shit," Sian muttered under his breath, pinching the space between his brows in frustration.

[God, I swear, I’ll start believing in you from today. Just get me out of this cursed forest. When will I leave...?]

Poor Sian stood there with a straight face, but if people could hear his thoughts at that moment, they would probably burst into laughter. He was desperately bargaining with every god whose name he could remember—old and new alike—just to get out of this forest, where he had been stuck ever since reincarnating into this new world.

The wait wasn’t long.

Soon, the subordinate returned, carrying a large black piano.

The instrument had a foldable base, allowing it to stand firmly on the ground. Not only that, but the man even brought over a suitable chair for Sian to sit on and adjusted its height to match the piano.

Sian: "..."

Audience: "..."

Everyone was speechless.

How had this turned into a solo concert show?

Lan Qisheng stepped forward, approaching Sian slowly while clutching his injured arm.

Despite holding his own better than the others in his earlier clash with the man in black, he was still wounded.

"Sian, are you going to sing?" Lan Qisheng asked, his brows furrowed.

Unlike Sian, whose thoughts were often straightforward, Lan Qisheng was more suspicious. He found it odd that such a powerful figure had come all the way here just to deal with something as trivial as stolen goods.

His suspicions were confirmed the moment he noticed how closely the masked man was watching Sian, his gaze fixated on him with an unsettling intensity.

He didn’t like it.

At all.

"And what else should I do? Just refuse?" Sian answered calmly, locking eyes with Lan Qisheng.

For some reason, Sian found Lan Qisheng’s expression unexpectedly soft at that moment—like an abandoned, angry puppy.

With furrowed brows and lips slightly pursed, Lan Qisheng disapproved. Yet, he didn’t ask Sian not to go through with it, because he understood the consequences.

But—

As Lan Qisheng was lost in thought, he suddenly felt a gentle touch on his head.

Shocked, he looked up to find Sian patting him lightly, his movements tender and affectionate.

Lan Qisheng’s entire body tensed, blood rushing to his face as his ears burned red. He looked at Sian with wide, shimmering eyes.

[Could it be... that Sian has feelings for me too? Just like I do for him?]

His heart swelled with joy, and his expression grew increasingly foolish.

Meanwhile, Sian was merely thinking about how a full-grown man could look so much like a small, adorable puppy.

Yes. A puppy.

If our dear Colonel ever found out that Sian had patted his head—not out of hidden affection but simply because he reminded him of a cute puppy he once saw and never got the chance to pet... he would probably cry.

Standing on tiptoe to reach Lan Qisheng’s head, Sian felt a twinge of envy.

He, too, wanted a physique like that—chiselled abs, towering height.

Unfortunately, all he got was delicate beauty and sensitive skin.

Oh well. He wasn’t exactly in a position to be picky after being granted a second life. Even if he had reincarnated as an animal, he would have accepted it.

Meanwhile, Lan Qisheng’s subordinates were shaking their heads in pity.

Their once mighty, intimidating leader... reduced to this?

Where was the powerful soldier? The overwhelming presence? The stoic man they knew?

No, this couldn’t be their commander. This had to be an impostor.

And it wasn’t just his soldiers who thought so—the millions of live-stream viewers had the same reaction.

Speaking of the broadcast, many were still baffled by how so many drones had remained intact and continued streaming smoothly despite all the chaos.

After this ordeal, the drone company would likely receive incredible publicity, and its stock value would skyrocket.

"You may begin, young master. Everything has been prepared," the man in black finally spoke.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to speak without his leader’s permission, but he had noticed the air around their boss growing heavier.

When his gaze fell on Sian, who was still patting Lan Qisheng’s head, he instantly understood the reason.

And so, he spoke—an attempt to separate the two before something disastrous happened.

As expected, the murderous aura surrounding the masked man dissipated slightly when Sian pulled away and walked toward the piano.

Sian sat down, his fingers hovering over the keys, caressing them lightly—like an old lover reunited after a long separation.

Partial correctness.

Sian had been a music lover since childhood, learning to play instruments and sing from an early age. His family was well-off, so as long as he enjoyed music, they never stopped him. Instead, they supported him, enrolling him in music lessons and allowing him to learn whatever instrument he wanted. Over time, he mastered every instrument he loved.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t even reached high school when the apocalypse arrived, taking not only his family but also his dreams.

While patrolling the city with his team, Sian came across a few musical instruments. At first, he ignored them, but his hands and heart longed for music. Eventually, whenever he found an opportunity, he would play a little. Later on, he started playing music to lift the spirits of his team and those around him. His team members always loved his performances, often saying that if the world hadn’t ended, he could have become the greatest musician the world had ever known.

Sian closed his eyes, hiding the deep sorrow and grief within them. When he opened them again, he turned to his side, seeing vivid images of his teammates urging him to start playing, their voices filled with excitement.

A soft, warm smile spread across Sian’s face—a pure and gentle expression full of affection.

The moment the man saw Sian smile, he stood up from his chair, his hands trembling. He clenched them into tight fists to steady himself.

Lan Qisheng watched as Sian placed both hands on the piano keys, preparing to play.

Everyone else, too, watched with wide eyes—some anticipating his failure, others eager to hear his voice. Different thoughts filled their minds, but they all shared the same desire: to hear Sian’s song.

The five soldiers stood together, supporting one another as they focused intently on the young man seated before the piano.

Liang Zhu, Tong Xiao, Kim Hyun, Arong, Michael... Everyone present in the scene had their eyes fixed on Sian.

The audience, of course, was no exception. Some were waiting to see Sian embarrass himself, while others silently prayed that he would sing well—for their survival depended on it.

Amid the tense anticipation, Sian’s fingers glided over the piano keys, producing a series of high, cascading notes. Under his pale, delicate fingers, the scattered sounds blended into a beautiful, flowing melody—mournful yet deeply touching.

A few seconds later, Sian’s voice rang out.

"World—" 🎶

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Your lovely author, Erato-san, has something to say:

So, my little angels, what did you think of today’s Chapter? Beautiful, isn’t it?

Of course, it is! I even got chills while writing this scene and imagining it. I loved it, and I hope you do too.

Now, about the song—I have a confession to make. I had so many options in mind and struggled to choose just one. In the end, I picked a song that wasn’t even on my original list! But it’s one of my favourites, and I felt it fit Sian and his world perfectly. This song is meant to be an original piece that Sian wrote for his friends in his previous world.

I hope you like my choice. I’ll also write the song’s name for those who want to listen to it. Sadly, no video or audio perfectly matches our dear Sian, so I don’t have a link to share.

Anyway, see you later for the next part of the Chapter!

Today’s question: ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

Can anyone guess the song just from the first word Sian sang?

It’s challenge time! If someone guesses correctly, I’ll try to write three Chapters before the next release!

See you later~ Love you all,

Your dear Erato.

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