Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 10

Defeat.

Defeat.
…
Defeat.

Over the course of a single evening, An Kefan’s roommate’s account dropped from 50 stars to 40. She even got reported enough to lose 17 credit points, resulting in a ban from ranked and peak matches.

This time, after losing with a girl duo-queued by his side, Xu Tao didn’t lash out like he did that afternoon. He just fell into a deep, bitter silence.

The account An Kefan played on had provincial-level titles in ranked, mainly ADC and mid-lane champions. At first glance, it looked impressive—until she played. Then it became clear: a walking disaster.

He figured it must’ve been some online couple’s account. Xu Tao should’ve known the moment she bragged about being peak rank #1. Total nonsense.

So when An Kefan rage-quit after ten consecutive losses, Xu Tao still managed to keep a good attitude and consoled her.

“It’s not your fault, Teacher An. The matchmaker system sucks! Our teammates were all like bots, every game was a disaster. Just impossible odds!”

An Kefan stared at her bright red defeat streak and felt like he was mocking her. She said nothing and logged off in silence.

Had Yao really fallen off that hard as a champion? She couldn’t kill a single person all night.

Back in her previous life, Yao was OP. No matter which lane she went to, she’d carry the whole team, bagging dozens of kills each match.

Sure, she’d duo’d with Qi Du then, but Qi Du had been even worse than her. Always negative KDA. Her roommates always praised her mechanics and awareness.

Besides, she once hit peak rank #1 solo-queuing with Yao. It was never this hard back then!

What she didn’t know was that her peak games used to cost 100,000 yuan each.

Nine actors per match—opponents feeding at the right moments, teammates emotionally boosting her, all while making sure she never realized it was staged.

Thinking it over, An Kefan concluded the problem was the cursed account.

Her roommate, seeing that she’d stopped playing and with some time left in the challenge window, logged into the account—and nearly had a stroke.

“Kefan! Didn’t I tell you not to play ranked?! How’d you drop ten stars in one night?!”

Even if she hadn’t played the roommate’s main heroes, losing that many credit points meant she couldn’t push for her provincial rank this week.

From behind her bed curtain, An Kefan snapped back instinctively:

“You think I wanted to lose ten in a row?! Your account’s cursed! All the teammates I got were trash!”
“None of the skins are good either. I had no hand-feel at all today. I’ll win it back for you later if I have time!”

The roommate was speechless. What did hand-feel have to do with skins? She didn’t have the money for skins—besides, she didn’t even play those champions.

And if she wanted skins, she could buy them herself. This was the same girl who just borrowed 30 yuan for a taxi.

When she opened the match history panel, her blood pressure spiked. An Kefan had been feeding like mad, averaging seven to eight deaths per game. Absolutely unhinged.

She couldn’t figure out why An Kefan had such a bad temper tonight.

Still, since they were roommates, she let it go. She could always climb ranks next week.

At the same time, An Kefan was just as baffled. Wasn’t this the same roommate she’d carried to 100 stars last life? Back then, she never spoke this harshly.

Now she loses ten stars and shows her fangs?

An Kefan was so angry she couldn’t sleep. She created a new game account, topped up 200 yuan, and bought two discounted skins on the spot.

…

Hot.
Hard.

Qi Du was going crazy.

She was wearing his clothes.
In his study.
Touching his forehead.
Saying things like this—

“Mr. Su, please don’t… You already have a boyfriend…”

His voice was pitiful, a twist of grievance and longing, the refusal curled around several polite corners. His misty eyes, however, locked onto her, unblinking.

On his handsome face, one message was written in flashing bold: “Break up with him and make it official with me.”

Knock knock knock.

There was a knock at the door—Uncle Zhong had come to call them for dinner.

Qi Du sat at the dinner table with zero appetite, eyes locked on Su Ci the whole time. Several times, he spooned soup and porridge straight into his nose.

Uncle Zhong couldn’t bear to look.

Though Miss Su Ci was undoubtedly stunning beyond words, as an experienced, composed senior butler, he would never lose decorum in front of a guest—

Then the milk overflowed from the cup, dripping down the edge of the table and splattering onto his handcrafted leather shoes.

Su Ci, used to his antics, reminded him calmly, “Uncle Zhong, you spilled.”

Qi Du’s gaze darkened. He shot the butler a vicious glare.

He’d never noticed before how annoying the servants were. Why were they all ogling his tutor at dinner?

Uncle Zhong quickly backed away.

Mostly because his pants and shoes were now stained with milk, and he didn’t want to serve Miss Su Ci looking like a mess.

Only then did Qi Du’s face ease. But an even deeper, dangerous undercurrent began to stir.

Su Ci was texting the whole time.

Was she sweet-talking that clingy, jealous boyfriend of hers?

He stabbed his chopsticks into the food—piercing meat and vegetables like a sieve—without even noticing. When he got to the ribs, he crunched through them, bones and all.

The shattered shards scraped down his throat. It hurt.

His once-clear voice now rasped like sandpaper.

“Mr. Su… are you replying to your boyfriend?”

She couldn’t even spare time to eat with him—how deeply in love must she be?

The next second, the phone was pushed across the table toward him. The screen was still lit—her WeChat chat window.

Qi Du stared, mouth agape. He stammered awkwardly:

“I wasn’t trying to snoop, I swear. I just… I’ve never dated anyone before. I was curious how you talk to your boyfriend…”

Su Ci cut him off with a calm voice, “If you’re that curious, take a look yourself.”

Qi Du was dying of curiosity—and jealousy. He didn’t say it, but his eyes darted downward.

A guy named Su Ding… her younger brother?

[Sis, let’s talk.]
[Lend me 100k. Zhenzhen’s family wants an 88,000 yuan dowry, and I need to buy supplements for her parents.]
[You there?]
[Aren’t you some top student at Jing University? Mom and Dad paid for your education. You’ve been working part-time for three years—don’t tell me you can’t even earn this little?]

Su Ci’s reply was just one word:

[Scram.]

Scrolling up, the whole chat was filled with money requests. Every time she said no, her brother’s tone would turn sharp and nasty.

Qi Du burned with anger—just as a message popped up in the family group chat.

[Su Laidi, your brother’s getting married. You should help out. He’ll need lots of cash. You’re smart and good at making money. Just give 200k.]

Soon after, a man named Su Qingfeng chimed in, trying to play good cop.

[Laidi, we know life’s hard for you. How about this—you give 100k, and help your sister-in-law find a decent job. You’ve got the grades and the connections.]

Qi Du glanced at the girl sitting across from him. She was quietly eating her porridge, as if numb to all this ugliness.

“Sorry, Ms. Su… I didn’t mean to—”

He thought she was messaging her boyfriend. He hadn’t expected this.

“It’s fine. Treat it like a joke. Even if I had that much money, I wouldn’t give it to them. And I don’t, anyway.”

Qi Du moved the dishes he’d picked for her closer.

He thought: His Ms. Su would have money—he’d give all his future earnings to her.

He put down his chopsticks, picked up her phone, and quickly typed out a message.

[200k isn’t enough for a wedding—how cheap are you? Pick up the phone, I want to talk.]

He initiated a group voice call.

Su Ci’s parents and brother jumped in immediately, excited beyond belief—they’d never gotten this much out of her before.

Qi Du sneered. All the violent emotions he’d suppressed finally exploded.

“Two hundred grand? Are you kidding? That idiot son of yours is like He Zhizhang after a stroke, with the elegance of a dog turd in the sun. A fly crawling out of a septic tank trying to suck blood like a mosquito? Pathetic.”

“Laidi, Laidi! You’re lucky we didn’t abort you. A daughter with no masculine energy, who can’t even afford a dowry? Go find a man and marry yourself off!”

Su Ci sipped her gelatinous porridge, thinking to herself: Can’t I just eat in peace without getting hit with this level of disgust?