# Chapter 82 ### Chapter 82: Bestowing the Name “Bald Monster” Under the director’s relentless push, insect repellent—wait, no, the new anti-delirium shampoo—was developed in record time. Lin Jianyuan got his hands on the finished product right away. He immediately swapped out every bottle of shampoo at home. “It won’t happen again,” his roommate said. “I’ve marked the whole place as my territory. Aberrants of that level can’t get in anymore.” “But we should still use it.” Lin Jianyuan ran a hand through his hair, still rattled. “I heard they added a bunch of anti-hair loss and strengthening ingredients too…” The product needed proper packaging before it could hit the shelves. So the Bureau reached out to a classic insect repellent brand for a joint campaign. They also brought in top reviewers from every major social platform to do a promo blitz. —That was Lin Jianyuan’s idea. After all, with his background in ad marketing, Lin Jianyuan knew exactly how users thought. If you just hand out free shampoo at office buildings, people will wave you off in annoyance, shooing you away like a fly. Egg giveaways wouldn’t work either. Not the right age group. But soft marketing is a different beast. If the pitch is subtle enough, targeted just right, and you add a dash of creative flair… And creativity? That’s Lin Jianyuan’s specialty. So, it didn’t take long. Lin Jianyuan spotted a flurry of messages in the group chat. Qin Shi: Holy shit, did you guys try that shampoo from last time? It’s amazing! My scalp’s never been less oily. I can go five days without washing and it’s still fine!!! Su Zhiwei: !!! I tried it too! It’s unreal! I saw it on Xiaohongshu and thought it was just another ad. I was literally talking about hair loss with you guys, and the next second I get served a shampoo ad. Turns out it’s actually good!! Pei Shuo: Huh? That was an ad? I saw it too. I watched this review. Kinda tempted. \[link] Qin Shi: Pretty boy, you don’t need it, your hair’s so thick. \[crying] Su Zhiwei: Pretty boy, you don’t need it, your hair’s so thick. \[crying] Then a bunch of people lined up to comment. Pei Shuo: \[awkward] Actually, I’ve been shedding a lot lately too. Maybe it’s all the late nights… Pei Shuo: Anyway, I secretly bought the shampoo too. \[hehe] Haven’t noticed any results yet, but the insect repellent scent is great. After I wash my hair, it feels like even mosquitoes stay away! This was a small group chat, free from idiots like Jiang Chen and Yu Xiuli. Lin Jianyuan watched the messages roll in, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Mission accomplished, no need for recognition. He hadn’t even tried to push the product to his old colleagues, yet they’d all started using it. Proof that the campaign had hit the target audience dead-on. Backend data showed that almost everyone in the office buildings had bought the product. The few who hadn’t either weren’t affected by the black sesame Aberrant, Or just didn’t care about going bald. Well, that’s fine too. Baldness wasn’t the point. As long as someone in an area used the product, the anti-delirium agent would linger on their hair for a while, spreading in a small radius and keeping the concentration up. So those who didn’t use the shampoo could keep losing hair. But the black sesame Aberrant would still be wiped out. They’d just be regular bald guys, nothing to do with Aberrants. That’s what you call getting exactly what you wanted. And with that, the black sesame incident was officially wrapped up. There was just one last detail. Since Lin Jianyuan was the first to discover and neutralize this new Aberrant, he had naming rights. So, the black sesame Aberrant was officially named— \[Bald Monster]. squish toy: “……” Little Rock: “……” Angel Eyeball & Abyssal Maw & Socially Anxious Lego: “……” Fair enough. It was a classic Lin Jianyuan move—bold and to the point. Aberrant Name: \[Bald Monster] Aberrant Level: D \[Minimal Threat] ID Number: \[XXXXXXX] Current Status: \[Neutralized] Lin Jianyuan added the X-brand insect repellent collab shampoo details to the containment report, then realized something. Shit. Why was he so damn competent again?! That’s a death sentence in the workplace! If you’re capable, you’ll always have to do more! No, this won’t do. He needed to keep a lower profile from now on, stop standing out so much. Lin Jianyuan fell into deep reflection. “Cut!” The director shouted. Everyone swarmed in to unhook Shi Shaoning from the wires. This drama was a mashup of suspense, fantasy, wuxia, and romance, all in period costume. Every element was there, and the script, costumes, and sets were all top-notch. But the most important thing was—the cast. Shi Shaoning was the male lead. His last show had been a fantasy romance with up-and-coming starlet Xue Lu. It got great ratings and tons of buzz. Online critics said: Xue Lu was fantastic, and Shi Shaoning… well, he showed up. The discussion was everywhere—half praising the female lead, half dragging him. Shi Shaoning took a beating online during that time. The Bureau was busy too, so his mood was in the gutter. But this show was different. This time, he was playing a dark, unhinged, obsessive ghost. Shi Shaoning wasn’t naturally suited to that kind of role, but he had an Aberrant on hand! Everyone knew Aberrants thrived on devouring negative emotions. But Aberrants could also release emotions at will. It worked like nuclear fusion. If one person in a crowd panicked, the feeling would ripple out, bouncing around like pinballs, triggering a chain reaction until chaos took over. That’s when Aberrants feasted. But what if you could control that release? One day, Shi Shaoning had a wild idea—he went onstage channeling emotions released by his Aberrant. The result? Electric. He’d never felt so in character. He became that twisted ghost, burning with frustrated, obsessive longing for the heroine. He got so into it that even after the director yelled cut, he couldn’t snap out of it. His haunted, dripping gaze pinned the female lead, scaring her half to death. The director, ever sly, kept the footage as promo material and posted it online to build hype. After filming, Shi Shaoning sat in the makeup room, letting the artist wipe off his makeup. On set, he was all raw emotion, but off set, he was back to his usual cool self. No secret there. Save your feelings for where they count! After makeup removal came a complicated skincare routine. No way around it. In this business, your face is your meal ticket. Shi Shaoning hated fussing with his face, but it beat working overtime at the Bureau. At least they hadn’t called him in… —No! Don’t even think that! Shi Shaoning jolted, quickly checking his terminal. Whew. No messages. Never think that way again! Don’t jinx yourself! He took a deep breath, planning to relax with some Xiaohongshu scrolling. The moment he opened the app, the algorithm shoved a trending post in his face: “Shi Shaoning is overacting.” Shi Shaoning: “?” Heh. The price of fame. He swiped away. Next post. “Shi Shaoning’s acting style: stare, stare, roar, stare.” Shi Shaoning: … The script literally said \[stare at the female lead]. Want me to throw the script in your face so you can check?! Swipe. Next post. “Other haunted ghosts: I’ll watch you forever, always, always. Shi Shaoning’s haunted ghost: clock out, clock out, just one last stare and I’m done… clock out…” “His eyes aren’t hungry for the heroine—he just wants to go home!” “Who else gets it? Shi Shaoning’s being exploited by the industry! He reeks of forced overtime. I’m dying here!” Shi Shaoning: “???” What? That was his most immersive, satisfying performance ever! Shi Shaoning lost all composure. He cracked on the spot. The Aberrants doing hard labor around him all looked up. Hmm? Dinner time again? (munch munch munch) While Shi Shaoning stewed, his phone buzzed with a new message. Lin Jianyuan: “Free tonight? Wanna shoot some hoops?” Lin Jianyuan: “And grab dinner. I still owe you from last time.” Shi Shaoning’s face was stone cold as he stabbed at the screen: “Yeah.” “Hoops.” “Food.” “You’re really living large these days.” Shi Shaoning stepped onto the court, taking in the surroundings. “You even rented the whole place out.” This was the same basketball court where he’d first met Lin Jianyuan. Shi Shaoning remembered those days—Delirium incidents popping up everywhere, running between set and missions, barely sleeping, nerves frayed raw. It knocked him flat. He couldn’t focus on acting, got chewed out by the director nonstop. The director told him to get it together, so he took a sick leave from the Bureau to rest up. After all, acting was his real job. The Bureau was just a side gig. Shi Shaoning had always thought so. But that night, while out for a walk, the Bureau hit him with an emergency assignment. Apparently, a Delirium mark had appeared nearby—he was told to check it out. Shi Shaoning blew up on the spot. The last Delirium battle was still burned in his mind. S-class psychic contamination was no joke. Even after spraying himself with ten bottles of insect repellent, he still showed Delirium symptoms. It ruined his variety show taping, made him a laughingstock. First time in his life he’d trended on social media. The headline? Shi Shaoning turns dating show into madness show Utter humiliation! Though in the end, it worked out—he got more gigs and endorsements. But Shi Shaoning never got over it. Who would’ve thought now… “You’re a celebrity. Didn’t want anyone to recognize you.” Lin Jianyuan grinned. “Want to change shoes?” Shi Shaoning glanced at Lin Jianyuan in full athletic gear. Not his usual office drone look—today it was T-shirt, shorts, white sneakers. First time he’d seen him so sporty. He looked way more energetic, almost like a college kid. Shi Shaoning’s gaze shifted to \[Xie Yu] nearby. Still the same—no skin. A whole floating pink digestive system hovered over the court. Shi Shaoning couldn’t help but scan \[Xie Yu] from top (mouth) to bottom (colon). He still couldn’t imagine how Lin Jianyuan could call that pile of organs “wifey.” Did they even kiss?! Shi Shaoning shivered, cold sweat down his back. He forced himself to stop imagining. “No need,” Shi Shaoning said. “These shoes are fine—I’m endorsing the brand, they sent me a ton. Want a pair? For you two…” He looked at Lin Jianyuan, then \[Xie Yu], and corrected himself, “…for you.” “Two pairs is fine, don’t be stingy.” \[Xie Yu] grinned, then turned to “look” at Lin Jianyuan, voice soft, “I don’t wear shoes, but he can swap them out\~” Lin Jianyuan burst out laughing, waving his hands. “Just kidding, just kidding, don’t take it seriously.” He turned and whispered something to \[Xie Yu]. Whatever it was, \[Xie Yu] cracked up too. The whole digestive tract shook with laughter. Shi Shaoning: “……” Bastard couple. No. Bastard and bowels! Shi Shaoning slapped the basketball. “So, how we playing? Three-on-three?” \[Xie Yu] turned to Lin Jianyuan. “What’s three-on-three?” Lin Jianyuan: “It’s just three-person basketball. But we don’t need to follow all the rules. Just don’t stretch yourself out too much, okay, baby?” Xie Yu: “What do you mean, don’t stretch out too much?” Lin Jianyuan: “Like last time, when you shot up to two meters tall and dunked.” Xie Yu: “Oh, can’t do that?” Lin Jianyuan: “Of course not, that’s cheating! If it’s just you and me, whatever, but this time Shi’s here. And Pei Shuo’s coming too—oh, right.” Lin Jianyuan turned to Shi Shaoning. “A friend of mine’s joining us, so it’ll be two on two. He was my intern at the old company. Good kid.” Shi Shaoning finished warming up and replied coolly, “Whatever.” As soon as he spoke— Beep beep beep! All three of their terminals went off at once. Lin Jianyuan: “Shit.” Xie Yu: “Shit.” Shi Shaoning: “Shit!!!” Who the hell was it this time?! Which dumbass dared mess with two A-class combatants and an S-class Aberrant?! Are they asking to die?!