Chapter 19: A Popular Character Is Not a Good One If He Doesn't Cut Himself

Doppelgänger Bracelet — a uniquely special item in the Tian Dao System’s marketplace.

Its function is straightforward: it can absorb one death blow meant for Tian Dao.

Yet despite its powerful utility, its price is shockingly low — only 100,000 Popularity Points.

Clearly, this was a privilege granted directly by the system to Tian Dao.

Ever since he discovered this item, Tian Dao had been pondering how to maximize its potential.

And the reason he waited until now to purchase it?

Because only after the Final Evaluation — in the second major arc of the story — would this precious Doppelgänger Bracelet truly shine.

Ever since his arrival in the Stellarverse and learning of the Popularity System, Tian Dao had been asking himself:

What does true popularity really mean?

Sure, sheer strength. Absolute coolness.

Such traits might win instant fame — but that kind of popularity is fragile.

Like sandcastles built at high tide.

It can collapse in an instant the moment a stronger, cooler character appears.

Fans who once adored him for those reasons would just as easily abandon him for someone better.

So a truly great popular character must do more than just be strong or handsome.

They must possess something deeper — distinctive charisma.

Only then does a character become real, three-dimensional, unforgettable.

That’s why Tian Dao wore sunglasses constantly, why he devoured sweets like a man possessed.

These little quirks were deliberate — ways to build a connection with his audience.

But they were just surface-level traits.

Fleeting glimmers of personality.

True charisma isn’t built from quirks.

It’s forged in story.

Why do fans now universally accept Tian Dao as the strongest in the Stellarverse?

Not because he brags about it nonstop.

No — because he proves it.

Through real, tangible moments:

His flashbacks in Stellar Prequel: Embers.

The moment he actually hurt the Earth Drake during the Final Evaluation.

It was those scenes — those moments — that gave his “Born Strong” persona depth.

They made it feel real. Earned. Believable.

And on top of that, he layered in contradictions:

The sweet-tooth addict.

The sunglasses-wearing show-off.

The sarcastic mouthpiece.

These contrasts made him feel human.

Made fans care.

But Tian Dao knew — if he relied only on these small character beats,

his popularity might hold for a while.

But as the story’s stakes rose,

he’d be outshone by others who had more dramatic arcs.

So he needed something more.

Beyond “cool” and “strong” — he had to add suffering.

To Tian Dao, “suffering” was simply another word for the knife.

Everyone knows:

Beauty and strength are like fireworks in the night sky — dazzling, brief, and fleeting.

But if you place that same firework beneath a couple holding each other in the rain…

Then the fleeting light becomes something eternal — a moment that cuts straight to the soul.

Tian Dao’s fingers hovered over the screen.

Then tapped — decisively — on the “Purchase” button for the Doppelgänger Bracelet.

【You have spent 100,000 Popularity Points to acquire the special item: Doppelgänger Bracelet】

He stared at the bracelet in his hand — unassuming, made of two rough red cords woven together, threaded with a plain, transparent crystal.

Nothing special.

Nothing flashy.

Yet in his palm, it felt heavier than any weapon.

He whispered, voice low, almost to himself:

“To turn fleeting fame into lasting devotion… I’ll have to pay a price.”

“After all, there’s never a free lunch in this world.”

Cutting himself — this wasn’t a sudden impulse.

It was the plan he’d laid out from the beginning.

In a way, even the earlier “memory flashbacks” added in the main series were like a small, dull blade.

Not painful. Not deep.

But even that tiny cut had already expanded Tian Dao’s emotional depth —

enough to boost his popularity fast.

Otherwise, with Stellar Prequel: Embers barely known beyond 13 stations,

how could he have accumulated 100,000 Popularity Points in such a short time?

Now, having seen the power of the “knife” — the raw emotional resonance it created —

Tian Dao wasn’t just committed.

He was hungrier.

He decided to go further.

Bolder.

He’d use the Doppelgänger Bracelet — not just as a survival tool —

but as the centerpiece of his entire “Knife Plan.”

He’d let himself die.

Truly die.

Sure, it meant facing the risk of a second death — a terrifying, irreversible consequence.

But the payoff?

Unmatched narrative tension.

A surge of popularity that would dwarf anything before.

It was worth it.

“A popular character who never cuts himself isn’t a good one.”

“If I’m to climb to the peak of popularity in the Stellarverse… then risk must be part of the journey.”

With that thought, he slipped the bracelet onto his right wrist.

Then stood up — and walked toward the mess hall.

Lunchtime.

Time to eat.

Time to plant the seeds of the story’s future pain.

“Hey, Kalolin,” he said, grinning, “you’re so thoughtful — you even grabbed my food before I got here!”

He didn’t even wait.

He plopped down hard into her seat — right in front of her freshly prepared meal —

and started eating like he’d been starving for days.

Kalolin froze.

Her green cat ears shot straight up.

Her fists clenched beneath her sleeves.

But Tian Dao?

He acted like nothing happened.

Chewing loudly, he exclaimed,

“Wow — the mess hall lady really outdid herself today! Must’ve known we were wiped out from the Final Evaluation!”

He turned to her, grinning.

“Hey, Kalolin — why are you still standing? Go grab your own food. You’re not hungry?”

She shot him a withering look.

“Tian Dao, when will you grow up? You’re thirty, not a toddler. You can’t just steal someone else’s meal.”

“You’re not even trying to walk two steps to the line?”

He chewed, then shrugged, mouth full.

“Steal? Come on, Kalolin — you gave it to me! I’m just… returning the favor.”

“And besides — you helped me today. Tomorrow, I’ll carry your ammo.”

“Want to mess with you?

Well… they’ll have to step over my corpse first.”

She rolled her eyes.

Another one of his ridiculous, self-important rants.

She waved a hand.

“Whatever. You’re impossible. Just… keep talking. You’re getting louder.”

She sighed.

“Want me to grab you some extra desserts? The cafeteria’s got a new batch today.”

“Absolutely!”

“Alright, hold on.”

She turned — and walked away.

But she didn’t see it.

Behind her, Tian Dao slowly lowered his grin.

The playful mask slipped.

Beneath the sunglasses, his pale blue eyes flickered —

a flash of guilt, deep and quiet.

As if he were about to betray someone he loved.

Sorry, Kalolin.

Some things… even I can only say in jest.

Because only when someone dies for a joke that meant nothing to the world…

Does that joke become unforgettable.

And heroes?

They don’t cry.

So if I’m to be the hero…

Then the tears — they must be yours.

So, Kalolin…

I’m sorry.

But this dazzling firework —

the one I’ve planned —

must be seen by you.

It’ll be painful.

But if I keep apologizing afterward…

I know you’ll forgive me.

After all — you always do.

You always forgive my childishness.

My recklessness.

You always have.

PS: I said I’d post three chapters today — make up for yesterday’s missing one.

But after checking the clock, I realized forcing it into 90 minutes might break the story.

So I’m choosing stability over speed.

Tomorrow — three chapters, without fail.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end