《Omniscient Cultivator - A Deadbeat's Path to Divinity [Litrpg, Cultivation]》 Prologue - The Day I Died I was never fond of the smell of cigarettes, but the back-alley¡¯s cold air made up for it. It had been a night that stretched itself thin¡ªlonger than it had any right to be¡ªand I wasn¡¯t the only one sneaking a moment¡¯s reprieve from the restaurant¡¯s bustle. The chaos inside was still audible through a door slightly ajar, but here, we were hidden from our manager¡¯s hawkish gaze. A temporary haven before the night¡¯s real trial began. Cleanup. Some four hundred plates, a tangle of cutlery, and more glasses than I could care to count. Not to mention the pots and pans¡ªthose grimy, battered things that never soaked long enough for their sins to slough off. "Wasn¡¯t efficient," our manager had said, his words dry and squared like something out of a corporate handbook. Better, in his estimation, to scrub until our hands bled than let the quiet alchemy of warm water do its slow, miraculous work. I¡¯d tried, briefly, to imagine explaining it to him¡ªthe simplicity, the elegance of letting things happen in their own time¡ªbut the thought itself was exhausting. Too many new ideas in his head, too little space for ours. Maybe I sighed too loudly, or maybe my irritation had a weight to it that hung in the air. Either way, one of my coworkers turned to glance my way. I didn¡¯t usually hope for things, but in moments like this, I hoped they wouldn¡¯t notice. It wasn¡¯t that I disliked them. Not really. But my patience, my energy for people, was finite. And these stolen moments between chaos were better spent staring at my phone than rehashing the same tired grievances. Yes, that one dinner guest had been an ass. Yes, we were underpaid. And yes, the dishes would be a nightmare tonight. I knew it all too well. What point was there in saying it again, over and over, just to hear it echo back? But, of course, explaining as much out loud was unthinkable. So when the newest addition to our little band of kitchen refugees¡ªCelia, a university student with a crooked smile and an unlit cigarette¡ªextended her half-burnt offering, I already knew my quiet was doomed. ¡°Looks like you could use a drag, senior,¡± she said, her tone somewhere between teasing and kind. Her smile had a warmth to it that might have been dangerous once, back when I still made the mistake of letting pretty smiles tie knots in my stomach. But time and policy had taught me better. No workplace relationships. Simple enough to say. Harder to live by. I¡¯d learned that lesson when my best friend got canned for sneaking around with a waitress. Not even on company time, or so he¡¯d claimed. Not that his words had ever meant much. At least they hadn¡¯t when he promised we¡¯d stay in touch. Promises were flimsy things, easily worn thin by distance and unanswered texts. I had learned that as well. Eventually, I stopped bothering, too. Still, Celia¡¯s smile wasn¡¯t something to be bitter about. So I took the cigarette from her, though I had no intention of smoking it. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, mostly because it was easier than saying anything else. I hoped she would leave with that, but as she mimed a drag from a cigarette she was no longer holding, her grin too telling, I could only shake my head. ¡°Fine, you got me,¡± I said, the words as polite as I could make them. I held the cigarette back towards her with a smile that I hoped looked genuine. ¡°It gives me a bad cough. Shouldn¡¯t.¡± The smile didn¡¯t last long. Not with the addition of a third voice to our small conversation. ¡°Don¡¯t waste your time, Greenhorn.¡± Jim. Of course it was Jim. He sidled into my corner of the alley, leaning far too close to Celia, draping an arm across her shoulders like some cartoon villain. Short and stocky, Jim was the kind of guy who made life harder for every other short guy in the world. His smirk practically demanded a punch. ¡°Victor here¡¯s too good for us regular folk,¡± he continued, his voice all smug bravado. ¡°Likes his phone more than people. Always hunched over, reading instead of talking like a normal person.¡± I rolled my eyes, though only in the privacy of my head. He said it like reading was some mortal sin. As if flipping through endless social media posts, talking shit about people you barely knew while spitting phlegm on the pavement was the pinnacle of human culture. And, as usual, he enforced his little jabs around the newest faces, knowing they had no choice but to play along. Or so he thought. ¡°Oh, what are you reading?¡± Celia asked, her voice cutting clean through Jim¡¯s noise. She slipped out from under his arm with an easy, natural grace, like the weight of his presence didn¡¯t register. It caught me off guard. Her curious gaze had found its mark, and despite the stronger waft of cigarette smoke as she leaned in, it felt like the wrong moment to complain. ¡°Probably some weeb virgin shit,¡± Jim said, barking a laugh. He folded his arms across his chest, his muscles tense with the effort of being ignored. He reminded me of one of those small dogs that yaps louder the less attention you give them. What¡¯s this? My inner voice narrated the scene with biting commentary. Draping your arm over her didn¡¯t make her swoon at your manly prowess? Shocking. But, as usual, I kept my mouth shut. Too much effort. ¡°Like comics?¡± Celia pressed, never glancing Jim¡¯s way. Her tone carried a genuine interest that was impossible to ignore. ¡°Or Eastern stuff?¡± She spun her arm in an exaggerated motion, her fist swinging wide. ¡°Rubber-rubber punch?¡± she said, then shifted to touch a finger to her temple with mock seriousness. ¡°Or¡­ X-Men, assemble!¡± I couldn¡¯t help it. I choked out a laugh, the kind that sneaks past before you know it¡¯s coming. Celia grinned, and for a moment, the cold alley didn¡¯t feel quite so oppressive. Even if the smell of smoke still lingered. Oh, old, traitorous heart of mine, don¡¯t start fluttering now. I¡¯d promised myself I¡¯d stay out of the dating game for a long, long while. Maybe forever. The last time had left its mark: my ex of five years leaving me for a mutual friend. ¡°Don¡¯t see a future together,¡± she¡¯d said, as if that conversation wouldn¡¯t have been better held before I found her tangled in someone else¡¯s sheets. Not much to ask for, is it? Jim muttered something colorful under his breath, his parting gift as he kicked the trash container on his way out. ¡°Fuckin¡¯ weirdos.¡± Classic Jim. Always the first to crow about workplace dating being a bad idea¡ªloud and obnoxious, just to make sure everyone heard him¡ªbut let a cute girl show up and he¡¯d start circling like a dog that hadn¡¯t been walked in weeks. If there are any young men out there in dire need of a life guidance, look no further than Jim. Then do everything in your power to go the opposite direction. You¡¯ll end up a decent human being by default. Further down the alley, he started barking at some of the other juniors, demanding a cigarette in the kind of voice that makes you wonder how he¡¯s not already hoarse. I didn¡¯t even bother hiding my eye-roll this time. ¡°Such an asshole,¡± Celia huffed in agreement, her voice only just low enough. The comment pulled an unbidden smile from my lips. ¡°Don¡¯t let him hear you say that,¡± I warned. ¡°Or you¡¯ll find out just how tightly his puckered sphincter can clench.¡± ¡°Well, hello there, Shakespeare,¡± Celia snickered. ¡°I¡¯m used to ¡®fucker,¡¯ ¡®bitch,¡¯ and ¡®asshole¡¯ around here. ¡®Puckered sphincter¡¯ is fresh.¡± Her gaze dropped to the phone still in my hand. ¡°So, what¡¯s the real fine poetry you¡¯re reading? Keats? Angelou?¡± ¡°Visual novel,¡± I said, flipping the screen to show her. The image displayed a misty mountain range, with a staircase carved from jagged stone stretching endlessly upward. A lone figure stood there, a young man caught in the limbo of waiting for my next choice. To push on or retreat. ¡°More of a game than any fine literature. Level up. Cultivate. Choices matter kind of deal.¡± Celia leaned closer, her head tilted. Beneath the sharp scent of cigarette smoke, there was something else¡ªsomething faintly sweet. ¡°I knew it was going to be something eastern.¡± She grinned triumphantly. ¡°Martial arts? Oh, what¡¯s it called¡­ Wuxia?¡± ¡°More like a Xianxia wearing the hat of a Wuxia,¡± I said, mindlessly clicking the Press On button. A heartbeat later, the character keeled over, felled by some kind of bad miasma. No warning. No way to avoid it. I groaned as I mashed the reset button. ¡°All the familiar tropes are there¡ªancient sects, politics, demonic practitioners¡ªa battle of good versus evil. But the more you scratch beneath the surface, the more it starts to seem¡­like a gauntlet for something bigger? You know, immortals, demonic beasts, mythical creatures creeping at the edges of what otherwise seems like a normal martial arts story. A need to constantly face odds that seem damned near impossible to beat¡­¡± I let my exasperation bleed into my voice. How many times had I reset this game? A thousand? Ten thousand? The counter didn¡¯t even matter anymore. I glanced up at Celia with a tired smile. ¡°Nerdy stuff.¡± ¡°You say that as if it¡¯s a bad thing,¡± she said, crouching down beside me. ¡°Trust me, you have to try to be less fun than what¡¯s going on over there.¡± Forced laughter echoed from the far end of the alley, punctuated by Jim¡¯s gravelly bark and the scrape of a boot against loose stones. They said it might snow tonight. I wasn¡¯t looking forward to it. ¡°Maybe I should try that game,¡± she continued, her voice lighter than the night deserved. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I cautioned, already clicking through the menu to start fresh. ¡°It¡¯s a shitty game. Less skill, more memorization. The kind of thing that¡¯ll make you hate yourself if you let it.¡± ¡°And yet you¡¯re playing it?¡± Her eyebrow arched, a look of quiet amusement as she leaned over to look at what I was doing. ¡°I¡¯ve come too far to quit now,¡± I said, speed-mashing through the tutorial. The same dull choices, the same dreary text, as though mocking me for my persistence. I knew them by heart. ¡°Besides, I¡­ guess I like the characters?¡± That was an understatement. The story had caught me hook, line, and sinker. Even if the mechanics were shit, I¡¯d keep playing. ¡°That so?¡± Celia didn¡¯t mock me for it, though there was something playful in her tone. She watched quietly as the introductory cutscenes flickered by on the screen, their sparse animations somehow endearing in their simplicity. ¡°Isn¡¯t there usually a walkthrough for games like this though?¡± she asked after a moment. ¡°Online, I mean.¡± ¡°I doubt anyone is dumb enough to play this game but me,¡± I said. ¡°I haven¡¯t heard of anyone, at least. Besides, even if someone was, the mechanics are so convoluted it wouldn¡¯t matter. Look.¡± I tilted the screen so she could see. A grand courtyard filled the frame, bathed in the dim light of pre-dawn. ¡°This is the start of the game,¡± I explained. ¡°Usually, I arrive here at midday once the tutorial ends. But I must¡¯ve clicked something different this time, or faster, and now everything¡¯s off. No NPCs. No dialogue options. Just this.¡± I flicked the phone off with a sharp click of my tongue, sliding it into my pocket like a gambler folding a losing hand. ¡°Like I said. Shitty game.¡± ¡°Then how are you supposed to beat it?¡± she asked, her curiosity unflagging. She sat closer than I¡¯d realized, her presence a faint reminder that there was a world outside of the screen. ¡°If everything keeps changing all the time?¡± ¡°Memorization,¡± I said without hesitation. Truth be told, my mind was already turning over the choices I hadn¡¯t tried, the ones I¡¯d been too cautious¡ªor too careless¡ªto explore. ¡°But I thought you said¡ª¡± I nodded. ¡°The choices are never the same, but the world and the characters are. That¡¯s what makes it so good. So bad, but so good.¡± She didn¡¯t look convinced, so I pressed on. ¡°That mountain path you saw earlier? There were two of the Tang clan¡¯s needles embedded in one of the trees. They formed a cross.¡± I held up my fingers in a rough X. ¡°If I¡¯d noticed them earlier¡ª¡± if I hadn¡¯t been distracted, ¡°¡ªI could¡¯ve spent some energy to circulate my Qi before heading up the stairs. Would¡¯ve given me a little more time to react to the miasma.¡± ¡°You need to pay attention to needles in trees to play?¡± Celia grimaced, pulling back slightly as though the very thought of it offended her. ¡°Yeah, no. I¡¯ll pass. That does sound like a shitty game.¡± I laughed, a quiet, tired thing that came more from relief than amusement. ¡°You¡¯re smarter than me, then.¡± I leaned my head back against the rough brick wall, staring up at the blinking light that flickered like it had its own private grudge against the world. The evening sky beyond was a muted gray, stubbornly refusing to reveal a single star. It really looked like it would snow tonight, but my mind was elsewhere.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Actually¡­If I¡¯ve reached the orthodox faction earlier this time, post-tutorial, what is stopping me from hitting up the alchemy shops before the obligatory trials began? I¡¯d already cataloged half the game¡¯s ingredients and recipes, tucked away in a hundred spreadsheets on my laptop back home. I wouldn¡¯t have to wait. If I use my starting gold to lean into the cheesing strategy, who is to say I can¡¯t bulldoze my way through the early-game even harder? Even a few hours of head start could make all the difference in the world¡­ I was halfway to convincing myself this was a good thing as a sharp voice sliced through the chilly air, grating like rusted nails on old iron. ¡°What are you lazy bastards doing out here?¡± it yelled. ¡°No one¡¯s leaving tonight until every last speck is scrubbed off every single pot in there! You hear me?¡± Celia and I shot to our feet like soldiers hearing the crack of a drill sergeant¡¯s whip. The instinct wasn¡¯t just strong¡ªit was primal. Survival 101: Do not, under any circumstances, incur the wrath of our manager. PTSD from past encounters didn¡¯t discriminate. Our colleagues were already scurrying toward the door, heads low and steps quick. Celia glanced at me with a sly smile, her voice dropping to a whisper. ¡°Any fancy insults tucked away for a monster like that?¡± ¡°How fancy do you want it?¡± I asked, hurrying around the trash container alongside her. ¡°As fancy as it goes.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± I murmured, lowering my voice and making an exaggerated flourish toward the manager¡¯s hunched back. He was mid-rant, tearing into the fresh hires who were nearly tripping over themselves to escape his line of fire. Several looked dangerously close to tears. He wouldn¡¯t notice. With a quiet, theatrical cadence, I declared, ¡°Ah, behold! The maestro of inefficiency, conducting an orchestra of chaos with the grace of a drunken peacock and the foresight of a candle in a hurricane.¡± Celia¡¯s laugh burst out, loud and unrestrained. The manager¡¯s head snapped in our direction, his bespectacled eyes narrowing into thin, razor-edged slits. Celia, unbothered, gave me a wink and darted ahead before he could level his fury at us. Her lips moved silently as she mouthed, ¡°I¡¯ll just stick to calling them assholes.¡± Then, as she slipped through the door, she glanced back and added one last parting shot, her grin sly. ¡°See you inside, nerdy boy.¡± And just like that, she was gone. The faint scent of cigarette smoke and something sweet lingering in the space she¡¯d left behind.
It was with all the enthusiasm of a man who¡¯d stared down a mountain of grease¡ªand barely survived¡ªthat I turned the key, locking the restaurant¡¯s back door. According to our dear manager, as I¡¯d been the last one inside after our illicit break, I would also be the last one to leave tonight. He¡¯d made sure to inform me of this right before vanishing precisely at 9:45 PM, as if the universe would collapse should he spend a single unpaid second longer at the restaurant. Which, of course, meant it was my responsibility to stay and ensure tomorrow¡¯s prep was finished, the kitchen spotless, and everything lined up just so. Otherwise, all hell was sure to break loose tomorrow morning. Not that I¡¯d be there to see it. But still. At 1:04 AM, dragging my feet down the alley, I rubbed at my face in an attempt to dislodge the exhaustion clinging to me like a second skin. The cold gnawed at my fingers, slipping past the thin shield of my scarf and collar. I yawned, the kind of yawn that felt like it started somewhere in the soles of my shoes. The nightmare wasn¡¯t just in the dishes or the late hours. It was in knowing I still hadn¡¯t seen a single cent from the last five times I¡¯d been roped into staying this late. Our dear manager had a policy of "fixing payroll issues next cycle." A generous man, really, so long as it didn¡¯t involve his time or money. Still, tired as I was, even if I¡¯d stumbled into bed that very moment, I wouldn¡¯t be able to sleep anytime soon. Tomorrow was my day off, and Dao of the Divine had kept my mind churning through hours of painstaking vegetable prep and dishwashing. A hundred fresh ideas for how to beat the game buzzed in my brain, each more promising than the last. Maybe this time I¡¯d finally reach one of the good endings. Assuming there were any good endings. But, as always, the universe seemed determined to remind me that there were no easy victories. Before I even reached the parking lot, a voice broke through the quiet hour. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, my car¡¯s warmer than that asshole¡¯s. Just get inside before¡ª¡± Jim. Out of his work uniform, he looked twice like the attention-starved bulldog, his bald head glinting under the orange glow of the streetlamp. His bulk loomed, all sharp angles and sour energy. And there, half-dragged toward Jim¡¯s oversized pickup truck, was Celia. Her heels had dug furrows into the fresh snow, and her expression¡ªa tense mix of frustration and unease¡ªleft little room for interpretation. ¡°Victor!¡± Her voice carried across the lot, relief and urgency bound together as she jerked her arm free and hurried in my direction. Even Jim, for all his bluster, seemed to realize how the scene might look. He let her go, though his glare was a mix of irritation and something else, something brittle. Had I been the main character in Dao of the Divine, this would have been the moment for something manly, something bold. A cutting remark or a righteous challenge that would put Jim in his place. But, well, I wasn¡¯t the main character in anyone¡¯s story. If my life were a visual novel, my anthem would have been the [¡­] option. I turned to Celia, deliberately ignoring the simmering anger radiating off Jim. ¡°I thought I told you to head home over an hour ago,¡± I said, my voice steady, as if there weren¡¯t a five-foot-seven wall of muscle glaring holes into the side of my head. ¡°The streets aren¡¯t exactly safe this late.¡± I could have sent Jim a meaningful look at those words, but I didn¡¯t. Triple-dot option¡ªthat was me. Lukewarm, middle of the road, never taking risks unless I absolutely had to. A normal guy, I guess? A ¡°Victor¡± kind of guy. ¡°Guess I must¡¯ve missed the last buses,¡± Celia said with a smile that managed to look only half innocent, like a cat sitting next to a broken vase. ¡°I was hoping you might be able to give me a ride home?¡± ¡°Hey!¡± Jim¡¯s voice cut across the alley like a dull saw. ¡°I¡¯ve been offering to give you a ride for the past thirty minutes.¡± Both of us ignored him. I shrugged. ¡°Sure. It¡¯s the blue¡ª¡± ¡°Toyota, right?¡± she said, already heading across the parking lot, her steps light, like she wasn¡¯t dancing away from a scene she didn¡¯t want to be part of anymore. ¡°The blue rust bucket,¡± I corrected with a sigh, trailing after her. Yeah, she¡¯d missed the bus on purpose. That much was obvious. My Dao of the Divine time, slipping away into the cold, frostbitten night. I was halfway to catching up when Jim¡¯s voice turned sharper, louder. ¡°Hey, asshole! Are you just going to keep ignoring me?¡± I was, actually. Until he stepped directly into my path, his broad shoulders and shiny bald head blocking my view of everything else. He loomed far too close, the faint smell of sweat and beer wafting off his oversized jacket. ¡°What the hell do you think you¡¯re doing, giving a young, pretty coworker a ride home after work?¡± His tone carried the smug self-assurance of someone who believed every syllable dripped with authority. ¡°No dating in the workplace, remember?¡± I blinked, caught off guard by the sheer absurdity of the accusation. ¡°What does her being pretty have to do with anything?¡± I asked before I could stop myself. Speed-clicked the wrong conversation option. Shit. Jim¡¯s snort was loud and ugly. ¡°Don¡¯t pretend you haven¡¯t been ogling her legs all shift.¡± That made me blink again, harder this time. I glanced back toward Celia. She was rather poorly dressed for the weather¡ªshort skirt, sheer tights, jacket hanging loosely off one shoulder. But I¡¯d been lectured by Joanne one too many times about how women wore miniskirts in winter ¡°because it¡¯s cute¡± to even register it anymore. ¡°All the more reason to get her home before she freezes to death,¡± I said flatly, trying to sidestep him. He didn¡¯t let me. A firm hand shoved against my chest, pushing me back a step. ¡°Hey, smartass,¡± he growled, voice dropping to a near whisper, like Celia wouldn¡¯t hear him. But the night was far too quiet for that¡ªonly our voices carried, bouncing off the alley walls and the towering buildings around us. She probably caught every word. Maybe that was the point. ¡°I¡¯m taking her home,¡± he said, each word packed with unwarranted aggression as another shove forced me further back, ¡°because I don¡¯t trust you, you sleazy fuck. You¡¯d probably feel her up before you even left the parking lot. So, fuck off before I make you.¡± Every now and then in my life, there would come a scenario where the [¡­] choice didn¡¯t appear, like the option I needed most had been misplaced or¡ªmore likely¡ªsnatched away. This was one of those moments. While Jim wasn¡¯t the tallest man you¡¯d meet, he carried himself with a kind of deliberate weight, the type that comes from hours in the gym, not an ounce of effort spared. That, and something more than just red and white blood cells made his veins bulge. Steroids? Ego? Raw, unbridled spite? Whatever it was, it didn¡¯t leave much room for reason. ¡°Victor?¡± Celia¡¯s voice broke through the tension, a quiet plea with an edge of unease. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw my own nervous energy reflected back at me. She wasn¡¯t stupid; she¡¯d picked up on the way things were spiraling. This wasn¡¯t work. This wasn¡¯t something you could just ignore and wait for it to disappear. There was an option blinking bright and ugly in the back of my mind: Leave her behind. But no. That wasn¡¯t happening. ¡°Look, man,¡± I began, raising my hands in what I hoped passed for placation. Smiling wasn¡¯t my strong suit, but I gave it a shot. ¡°She and I live close to each other¡ª¡± A lie. A blatant one, but one that sounded just true enough. ¡°¡ªso sometimes I drop her off on my way home. It¡¯s no big deal.¡± Jim grunted, his mouth twisting into something halfway between a sneer and a grimace. ¡°No big deal, huh? That what you¡¯re saying? I¡¯m no big deal?¡± He flicked his jacket aside, just enough for me to catch the dark outline tucked inside the inner pocket. ¡°How about I make it a big deal? Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know your game¡ªslobbering over every cute girl that starts working here with your chef friend.¡± A gun. He was carrying a fucking gun. ¡°Victor,¡± Celia whispered, her voice taut. My blood turned to ice. My thoughts scattered like dry leaves in a bitter wind. ¡°For fuck¡¯s sake,¡± I hissed, feeling the tremor in my own voice. ¡°Chris hasn¡¯t worked here for over a year, Jim. Can you just let it go? This isn¡¯t worth it. Look, I¡¯ll call a taxi for her, okay?¡± I pulled out my phone. ¡°You can watch her leave. She¡¯ll get home safe, and this doesn¡¯t have to turn into... whatever this is.¡± Jim stepped closer, his hand shoving hard against my chest. I staggered back, barely keeping my balance. My phone went flying, skidding against the frosted asphalt. Yeah, he was stronger than me, alright. ¡°Oh, look at you,¡± he spat. ¡°So fucking smart. So quick with the words. Go home yourself if you¡¯re so goddamned clever. Don¡¯t involve yourself in my business again, you hear me? I know it was you who reported me. Yeah, you.¡± A thick finger jabbed me in the chest. ¡°Got my pay docked. They pulled leftovers out of my fucking salary. Think that was funny? Think I didn¡¯t notice you sticking your nose where it doesn¡¯t belong?¡± The words sparked something hot and sharp in my chest, but I swallowed it down. ¡°Three cans of caviar and a vintage bottle of wine isn¡¯t leftovers, Jim,¡± I wanted to say. Hell, I wanted to shout it. I wasn¡¯t even the one who reported him, but the whole fiasco had become infamous. The cops got involved. A whole thing. Still, none of that mattered now. What mattered was the gun, the simmering rage in his eyes, and Celia, standing just behind him, too close to all of it. ¡°And I know you¡¯ve been talking shit behind my back,¡± Jim growled, stepping closer again, his finger still jabbing at my chest like punctuation. ¡°You think I don¡¯t hear about it? Now all the juniors are acting weird around me. Always going to you for advice, even though I¡¯ve been here longer. How the fuck do you think that feels?¡± With his face inches from mine, the scent of booze hit me like a slap. Not the faint whiff of someone nursing a bad day, but the sour, acrid stench of someone deep in their cups. He¡¯d been stealing bottles again. The idea of reasoning with him¡ªthe slim hope that logic might offer me some way out¡ªdrained away like water from a cracked jug. My eyes darted to Celia, desperate for some sign she¡¯d seen the writing on the wall and slipped away. Instead, my stomach knotted. She stood frozen, her phone in hand, her face a mask of poorly concealed panic. No. This wasn¡¯t a Call for help moment. This was a Get the fuck out of here moment. Jim noticed as well. ¡°What the hell are you doing, bitch?¡± he snarled, turning to her, his voice slurring but sharp. ¡°She¡¯s just calling a taxi,¡± I interjected quickly, stepping between them, my hand brushing against his arm in a gesture I hoped was calming. It wasn¡¯t. He swatted my hand away with a scowl. ¡°Hey, bitch!¡± he yelled, his voice raw and ragged as Celia flinched, the phone pressed against her ear. She began to backpedal, her movements frantic but jerky, the fear written all over her. ¡°I¡¯m talking to you! Put the fucking phone down!¡± The moments that followed came in pieces, scattered like shards of glass on the floor of my memory. I didn¡¯t piece them together until much later. If I¡¯d been watching this unfold on a screen, if I¡¯d been given some omniscient vantage point with neatly labeled options to choose from, maybe I would have seen the signs. Maybe I would¡¯ve picked the choice that led to a better ending. But life isn¡¯t a game, and you don¡¯t get to pause and think. Not when someone raises a gun. Jim wasn¡¯t going to shoot her. Not even he was that far gone. He was spiraling, yeah, lashing out at the world as it crumbled beneath him. A two-week notice none of us could have known about, a desperate grab for some sense of control. He was a mess of a man, but he wasn¡¯t a killer. Not until I moved, at least. Because when someone points a gun at another human being, your body doesn¡¯t wait for reason. Instinct kicks in. And instincts? They¡¯re idiots. The rest was a blur. A snarl. A struggle. A sound that tore through the air and left it ringing in my ears. And then, cold. Cold and wet, snow soaking through my shirt as warmth spread across my stomach. My blood. I blinked, trying to piece it all together. Somewhere, I heard the distant wail of sirens, the screech of tires as Jim¡¯s car peeled away, and Celia¡¯s voice, high-pitched and frantic, breaking through it all. I wasn¡¯t a hero. Lying there in the snow, my blood staining the world red, I remembered that in stark, unflinching clarity. Maybe I¡¯d forgotten for a moment, too caught up in some half-baked narrative where I got to be the brave one, the clever one. But heroes don¡¯t end up like this. And all I could think about, as my vision dimmed, was a stupid game I¡¯d never get to see the end of. Maybe that was the anthem of my life¡ªalways distracted, always missing the things that mattered most. Looking back, my mind had probably been wandering long before Joanne left me, drifting off into some other world where consequences were just suggestions¡ªwhere a reset button could always let you try again. Today had been no different. If I¡¯d only been paying attention, I might¡¯ve seen the signs. Just like the crossed needles of the Tang clan, threads of a bad ending woven right in front of me. Jim had been unusually tense that night, snapping at everyone like a fraying rope about to break. Thinking about it now, he probably got his ¡°you¡¯re fired¡± notice shortly after our break. Celia, sweet and stubborn, had been leaning closer for weeks. I should have been firmer when I told her no, but I wasn¡¯t. And then there was the overtime¡ªsomeone was bound to be stuck with it. Instead of spreading the load, I¡¯d let my juniors head home before me, taking the weight on my own shoulders. I could see it all so clearly now. Too clearly. But clarity is no use once the choices are made, and the consequences are bleeding into the snow. ¡°I¡ªI¡¯m sorry,¡± Celia sobbed beside me, her voice raw and cracking. ¡°I-I should¡¯ve gone home when you told me. All of this is my fault¡­ it¡¯s all my fucking fault.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be sorry,¡± I murmured, the words weak and wavering. My hand pressed against the wound on my chest, as if I could will the blood to stay where it belonged. It didn¡¯t work, of course. The cold was spreading too fast. ¡°And don¡¯t blame yourself. This isn¡¯t on you. Jim¡¯s just an asshole.¡± I chuckled, though the effort sent a spike of pain through my ribs. It wasn¡¯t much of a joke, but it was all I had. I knew she would blame herself anyway. She¡¯d carry it for years, the way we all carry things that were never really ours to bear. And then, eventually, she would forget me. Not all at once, but piece by piece, until I was nothing more than a ghost in the back of her mind. That was fine. It was better that way. ¡°It was nice, though,¡± I said, my voice barely more than a whisper now. ¡°Having someone to talk to these past few weeks. Helped pull me back to reality, you know? Made it feel like it wasn¡¯t all¡­¡± I blinked, my gaze drifting up to the dark sky. Snowflakes spiraled lazily down, catching in the glow of the streetlights. ¡°¡­all shit.¡± The sound of approaching vehicles cut through the night, their lights painting the snow in harsh streaks of red and blue. Blurry figures moved through the chaos, voices sharp and urgent. I could feel their presence, but they felt far away, like shadows on the edges of a dream. Too late. They were too late. Not that it mattered. Nothing about my life had really mattered. Too many bad choices. Too many missed opportunities. I¡¯d spent so much time lost in my own head, waiting for something better, something brighter. And now? Well, now the waiting was over. Still, as the last fragments of consciousness slipped away, a thought lingered like a stubborn ember. If life had a Reset button, what would it look like? A lever, a key, a single red switch? And if I could press it just once, how much could I change? Would I know where to start? Or would I end up here again, no matter how many times I tried? Chapter 1 [74th Year of the Ox, Month when the Peach Blossoms Bloom, Fourth Day. Loading¡­] Maybe it was fitting, that the last dream I had as I died was of Dao of the Divine. I¡¯d spent more hours trying to beat that game than I had trying to fix the tangled mess that was my life. I knew more about its sprawling world, its intricate characters, than I did about myself. Maybe that¡¯s why, when the soft, silken voice whispered in my ear, ¡°And your family business, how are they going?¡± the response slipped out as effortlessly as breath. It wasn¡¯t really mine, of course. It was his¡ªthe scripted answer of the character I now found myself inhabiting¡ªand I remembered it word for word. I¡¯d seen this cutscene a hundred times before. ¡°So-so,¡± I replied, my voice deeper than it had ever been, rich with sultry confidence. ¡°My brother has found some new investment out west. We are not going through with the deal with the Wu family because of it. It will put a strain on my pocket money for now, but in a year or so¡­¡± The woman beside me stirred, her soft hair brushing my lips as she shifted closer. Her amber eyes caught the dim light, wide with surprise. ¡°You¡¯re not going through with it?¡± she asked, her tone thick with disbelief. There it was. Genuine surprise, breaking through her carefully practiced allure. It wasn¡¯t hard to notice once you knew what to look for, but the me in this scene¡ªthe foolish, privileged third-son¡ªwasn¡¯t supposed to. ¡°No,¡± I continued, following the script with the lazy grace of someone who had no idea what was coming next. My hand reached out to pull her closer. ¡°We are¡ªHey, where are you going?¡± But I already knew. Before her feet hit the floor, before she slipped on her robes, I knew. There was only one place she could go, one purpose her movements served. She was heading to the brothel¡¯s young mistress, carrying my careless words to ears that would weaponize them. It was one of hundreds of such moments scattered across Dao of the Divine, each a small thread weaving the larger narrative of Jianghu¡¯s fate. This scene had always bothered me. Not because I found myself inhabiting the mind of a spoiled, brainless merchant son¡ªsome Jianghu version of a trust-fund brat¡ªbut because there was nothing I could do to change it. No matter how many times I encountered this moment, no matter how much I wanted to act differently, the outcome was always the same. [Initializing soul transfer¡­] ¡°They¡¯re going to burn this place, you know,¡± I murmured to the night. It felt strange, hearing words with such weight when my own voice had always been so... ordinary. But this wasn¡¯t my voice. It was his, the character¡¯s, as powerless in this moment as I had ever been. ¡°They¡¯re going to burn this place down,¡± I repeated softly, the words a quiet rebellion against the inevitability of the script. ¡°They¡¯ll burn her, and you, and everyone else in this town, once they¡¯ve gotten what they need. All to cover their tracks and placate my family. She¡¯s going to suffer¡ªmore than you can imagine¡ªbecause of what you¡¯re about to do.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The words hung in the air, a truth spoken in a world where it didn¡¯t matter. I had whispered this same warning to the screen countless times in the past, hoping, absurdly, that it might change something. It never did. For more than the crumbling power of the orthodox sects or the slow unraveling of an unremarkable merchant family, it was her story that haunted me. Mei Faolang¡ªone of Dao of the Divine''s most tragic characters, the kind that stirs sympathy even as the game cruelly denies you the chance to save her. That was why this scene lingered in my memory, why it prickled beneath my skin even now. And yet, I could do nothing to keep it from happening. This was merely a dream. [Progress 84%¡­ Senses enabled.] With a sigh, I stretched my arm upward, my fingers flexing as if to pluck something unseen from the air. Then, I frowned, twisting my hand. Everything felt¡­ real. Too real. For a dream, the edges were too sharp, the sensations too vivid. The game¡¯s usual flatness of texture and sound was replaced with richness, depth. The bed curtains above me were woven of the finest silk, their soft shimmer catching the faint light. The mattress beneath me was impossibly plush, cradling me like a cloud. Through a half-open window, the warm glow of paper lanterns spilled into the room, their light swaying gently in the evening breeze. Outside, I could hear the rhythmic clatter of wagon wheels, the murmur of midnight vendors haggling over goods, and the distant, patient chirp of early summer cicadas. Even the smells were alive here: the sweet tang of wine lingering in the air, interwoven with the cloying perfume that clung to the fabric of the room. I blinked, drawing myself upright. The sensation of my body, the soft press of silks and the cool air against my skin, was startlingly vivid. It wasn¡¯t like any dream I¡¯d ever had. Then I saw her. Standing frozen by the door, bathed in the dim lantern light, my bedmate of this past night was draped in nothing more than sheer robes. Her silhouette was a study of sharp curves and soft shadows, an image far beyond the suggestive innuendo that Dao of the Divine ever dared. Her hand hovered by the doorframe, her lips parted, and her amber eyes were wide, locked on me as though I¡¯d said something unspeakable. Which, well, I had. [Error. Scenario failed to load properly. New fate-strand started¡­] ¡°What did you just say?¡± she asked, her voice a mix of disbelief and something sharper¡ªfear, maybe. It was the kind of reaction you¡¯d expect when someone shattered one of the game¡¯s most scripted moments. And yet, there was no scripted dialogue option here, no glimmering choices in the corner of my vision to guide me. Free-talk actions had never been a thing in the game, and¡ªmore to the point¡ªthis felt too damned real. The silk was too soft, the lantern light too warm, the faint ache in my head too persistent. Dreams don¡¯t get this many details, right? My heart pounded, slow and heavy, a bass drum marking time as realization settled over me like a second skin. This wasn¡¯t the game. This wasn¡¯t a dream. ¡°My name is Victor Moore,¡± I murmured to myself, testing the words like they might not fit anymore. They still felt true, but... distant. Like a name you hear in an old story, familiar and faded. ¡°And I died trying to save a junior at work.¡± That part felt true, too. I could still remember the cold snow, the warm blood spilling from my chest, the fading hum of sirens in the distance. But instead of the nothingness I¡¯d expected¡ªor hoped for¡ªI woke up here. Not as myself, but as a deadbeat son in Dao of the Divine. [Welcome, Player, to ¡°the Final Playthrough.¡±] [Initializing: Tutorial Phase one¡­] Chapter 2 [¡±A New Beginning¡­¡±] Even alone in the room, my companion for the night having hurriedly left, my mind struggled to scale the sheer wall of this new reality. I nearly fell out of bed, the uncanny, dreamlike dissonance rattling me with every step as I stumbled toward the full-length mirror dominating the wall. The more I tried to convince myself this wasn¡¯t real, the more the world betrayed me with its texture, its vividness. Too many sensations, too sharp, too immediate. The room was a masterpiece of contradictions: old-world opulence rendered in a way that felt almost too perfect. The kind of perfection you only see in fantasies, where wood doesn¡¯t warp with time and fabrics never fray. The furniture was hand-carved, plush with silk cushions, their edges trimmed with golden thread. Elaborate tapestries draped the walls, depicting sprawling mountains, celestial palaces, and figures locked in frozen battle. On a low table sat a tea set, its porcelain thin enough to seem otherworldly. Or perhaps it wasn¡¯t porcelain at all¡ªwhat did I know about the materials of a world that shouldn¡¯t exist? Then there was the game board, standing just off-center like a waiting challenge. It wasn¡¯t go, or chess, or even shogi, though it bore a resemblance to them all. Zh¨¥ngf¨². The game board from Dao of the Divine, as intricate and hauntingly familiar as the rest of this place. Even the paper screens and wall paintings were not the usual swirling dragons or stylized flora of ancient art. No, here were martial artists, their stances poised and deliberate, facing down mythical beasts that loomed in stark detail. I could practically hear the thunder of their clashes, feel the ripple of power in the air. And yet, there were none of the things historians would make you expect waking up in a place like this. No smell of wood smoke, no damp air, no crude imperfections of an era set centuries¡ªor millennia¡ªago. It was too polished, too pristine. Like I¡¯d stepped into an idealized version of the world I¡¯d spent too many hours staring at through a screen. Then there was the mirror itself. The frame was polished metal, perhaps bronze or gold¡ªit gleamed richly in the soft light, though I couldn¡¯t tell which. But even if it were solid gold, I don¡¯t think I¡¯d have batted an eye. Luxury suites and fine craftsmanship were just another part of the surreal backdrop at this point. What caught me, held me, was the figure staring back from its depths. A figure that definitely wasn¡¯t me. [Loading Data¡­] He moved when I moved, sure, but he was too sharp, too striking. Eastern features carved like stone, a strong jawline, and eyes that seemed darker than night itself. He was tall, lean, and built with a kind of effortless grace I could never have achieved, not even with years of grueling effort. And then there were the details¡ªoh, the details. His left ear was pierced with a simple golden hoop. His long hair, black with the faintest undertone of crimson, was slicked back like a casual declaration of superiority. And there was the necklace: a gaudy gold chain that rested over his bare chest. Who even wore something like that to bed? It was absurd. Ridiculous. [Calibrating Difficulty¡­] And yet, there he was, wearing it. ¡°Liang Feng,¡± I muttered under my breath, the name sliding from my tongue like a bitter taste. [Difficulty set to: Unknown¡­] It was him. Of course, it was him. This was the kind of face you¡¯d find gracing the cover of a cheap martial arts romance, staring smolderingly at some hapless heroine. A dangerous look for a dangerous man. Except that in Dao of the Divine, Liang Feng wasn¡¯t dangerous at all. He was a punk. A spoiled, reckless punk with no martial talent and an ego as large as the family fortune he squandered. And now, somehow, I was him. [Error. Unknown Scenario. Starting Bonus Failed to Load.] I ran a hand down my face, only to shudder as he did the same. Yeah, that really was uncanny, but even as my stomach twisted, I couldn¡¯t help the slow, crooked smile that crept across my lips. ¡°Well, this is interesting,¡± I said, Liang Feng¡¯s deep, lazy drawl rolling from my mouth like it belonged to me. His smile, confident and natural, stared back at me from the mirror. He was never a character I¡¯d paid much attention to. Yet now, I couldn¡¯t help but feel a sting of sympathy as I saw him frown in time with myself. ¡°Wasn¡¯t this was the night you were supposed to die, though...?¡± [Error. Death-check Failed. New fate-strand started¡­] My voice trailed off, the words hanging in the still air as I retraced the threads of memory. The flashback scene. I could see it clear as day, burned into my mind from countless hours of gameplay. Liang Feng never made it out of this room. The courtesan¡ªhis bedmate for the night¡ªhad barely reached the door before he doubled over, blood spilling from his lips. It had been a dramatic display, a stark visual cue that his reckless life had finally caught up to him. Now, standing here, it struck me differently. Sloppy. This entire assassination attempt was just that: sloppy. What if he hadn¡¯t spilled the beans mere seconds before his untimely death? What if this idiot had managed to keep his mouth shut for just a little longer? [Correcting Scenario¡­] I shook my head, tearing my gaze from the mirror as I crossed to the low table where a jar of plum wine sat, nestled alongside the tea set. Two cups waited beside it, one still untouched, the other drained nearly to the dregs. It didn¡¯t take a genius to figure out which one was Liang Feng¡¯s. I picked up the empty one, tilting it slightly as the scent hit me¡ªa pungent, cloying odor that made my nose wrinkle in protest. ¡°Damn,¡± I muttered, holding it at arm¡¯s length. ¡°How much was this moron drinking last night not to notice?¡± I glanced at the room¡¯s rich furnishings, the traces of perfume still lingering in the air. ¡°Or was it the sweet scent and even sweeter company that had you distracted?¡± The thought drew a smirk despite myself, but it didn¡¯t change the facts. The wine had been tampered with, and poorly at that. Even now, the clumsy handiwork of it made my teeth itch. I could almost see the game¡¯s notification, crisp and clear as if projected before my eyes:This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Bitterthorn
Category: Common Poisonous Herb
Rarity: ¡ï¡î¡î¡î¡î
Description: Bitterthorn is a scraggly, dark-green herb with serrated leaves and a gnarled, woody stem. Its most notorious feature is its pungent, acrid odor, often described as a blend of rotting citrus and charred wood. The smell is so overpowering that it reveals the herb¡¯s presence long before the eye can catch its scrappy form. When prepared with care, Bitterthorn¡¯s leaves yield a toxic tincture capable of inducing severe nausea, vomiting, and, in higher doses, paralysis or even death. However, its potency is notoriously erratic. A misstep in its preparation often produces a harmless concoction or a poison so diluted it might as well be tea. Despite this, its abundance and accessibility make it a favorite among unskilled assassins and desperate souls lacking better options.
Uses:
  • Poison-making: A crude fallback for the inept or underfunded.
  • Deterrent: When powdered, its stench effectively repels small animals and pests.
  • Cautionary Training: Frequently used in alchemical schools to illustrate the consequences of imprecise tincture-making.
Warnings:
  • Handling Bitterthorn without gloves can cause skin irritation or mild burns.
  • Ingesting unrefined Bitterthorn often results in immediate retching, alerting the target to the poisoning attempt.
[Basic Player Interface: Enabled.] I blinked. Even as I waved my hand through the air, the strange screen lingered, immaterial yet palpable, its faint shimmer hovering as if tethered to the poisoned cup itself. It moved when the cup moved. I reached out with more care, prodding at it experimentally, but it remained frustratingly intangible. ¡°And here I was starting to convince myself this wasn¡¯t a dream,¡± I huffed, staring at the game-like display ahead of me. It wasn¡¯t until I allowed my focus to drift that the screen faded from sight. Even then, I knew it was there¡ªreadily available, waiting. ¡°Interesting,¡± I concluded, my voice as languid as the body I inhabited. Another screen briefly flickered across my vision:
Key event discovered. Proceeding with story¡­
And what was that supposed to mean? [Scenario Created: Liang Feng¡¯s Demise.] I set the cup down carefully, the scrape of porcelain against wood sounding sharp in the stillness of the room. A stillness that wouldn¡¯t last for long. I could hear it now¡ªlike a veil pulled aside¡ªthe echoes of hurried footsteps thudding closer. My would-be assassin¡¯s attempts may have been sloppy, but that didn¡¯t mean I could afford to be. [Nightmare Difficulty: Enabled.] [Character Data: Synchronizing¡­] Or so I thought. But despite the hurry I should¡¯ve felt, it was with a strange, deliberate ease that I wandered over to a nearby chair where a pair of sheer robes lay draped. Slipping them over my shoulders, I even took a second to marvel at the fabric¡ªlight as air, impossibly smooth. I loosely tied the sash, just enough to maintain a pretense of modesty. By all rights, I should have been panicking. I had died¡ªactually died¡ªas Victor Moore, gunned down in a dingy parking lot. That memory was vivid, the sting of cold snow and the burn of my own blood pooling beneath me still fresh in my mind. Now, I was here, alive in a way that felt far too real, wearing the skin of Liang Feng, a doomed character from Dao of the Divine. Liang Feng, who had definitely just been poisoned. And yet, I wasn¡¯t afraid. I wasn¡¯t angry. I wasn¡¯t confused. The storm of emotions I should have felt was absent, dulled to nothing but a faint irritation. Someone had tried to poison me. How annoying. Was this Liang¡¯s arrogance bleeding through? The attitude of a man who hadn¡¯t known a single hardship in his life. Or had some part of Victor Moore begun treating this as just another playthrough? Whatever the case, the longer I stood here, the clearer it became: I wasn¡¯t dreaming. This wasn¡¯t a hallucination. I was in Dao of the Divine. ¡°Reset?¡± I tried, speaking the word aloud with a flicker of hope. The air remained still, the room silent save for the faint sounds of movement beyond its walls. No pop-up appeared. No option to restart, to return to some save point before things had gone off the rails. [Error. Reset unavailable during ¡°Final Playthrough.¡±] Not that I¡¯d expected otherwise. I had been given a second chance at life. One last opportunity to beat this shitty game. I wasn¡¯t greedy enough to wish for more. The hurried sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway now, paired with hushed, urgent voices. They grew louder with each passing second, approaching my door like a tide rushing in. My earlier words¡ªcarelessly spoken¡ªhad stirred the hornet¡¯s nest. Of course they had. Not only was I still alive, I¡¯d tossed a poorly veiled threat toward everyone working at this brothel. ¡°You will all burn¡­¡± I looked around, brushing imaginary dust from the robes now tied snugly over my shoulders. If this world was anything like the game¡ªand so far, it felt achingly like it¡ªthen Bitterthorn¡¯s effects would wear off if the dosage hadn¡¯t been sufficient to kill me outright. That was its flaw: unreliable, imprecise, and unfit for anyone looking to make a clean kill. The nausea at the back of my throat was already fading. ¡°Good enough to down a fool,¡± I mused, taking in my surroundings. ¡°Not good enough to take me.¡± The footsteps stopped, just outside the door. Voices lowered to hurried whispers. I tilted my head, curious, as the wood rattled faintly from someone trying to slide it open. I had locked it in passing. Just to fuck with them or buy myself another few seconds? Honestly, I wasn¡¯t even sure at this point. Victor would¡¯ve done the latter, Liang the former. I spared the half-open window a glance, letting the thought of escape linger at the edge of my mind, only for another blue screen to flicker to life before me:
He who stands on top runs from no one!
Category: Status Condition
Severity: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡î¡î
Although raised as a third son, Liang Feng grew up with the world at his feet. His conviction that any problem can be solved by either coin or mention of his father¡¯s name prevents him from ever fleeing in fear.
¡°Well, that¡¯s inconvenient,¡± I said as I made my way back toward the table, the exasperation in my voice at odds with Liang Feng¡¯s languid, almost feline sprawl. ¡°Someone just made an attempt on your life¡ªa successful one at that. Maybe some fear is warranted?¡± But even as I said it, I couldn¡¯t deny the sheer comfort of this arrogant calm. Overconfidence was a potent drug, and Liang Feng had clearly been overdosing his entire life. Had I still been Victor Moore, I would¡¯ve been pacing the room at the sound of those voices outside, wringing my hands, and spiraling into a thousand worst-case scenarios. But Liang Feng? Liang Feng didn¡¯t wring his hands. Liang Feng didn¡¯t pace. Liang Feng didn¡¯t even think about leaving through the window, because Liang Feng didn¡¯t run. I exhaled slowly, the remnants of Victor¡¯s panic simmering into something sharper, clearer as I took a seat. This composure¡ªarrogant though it was¡ªwas exactly what I needed. If I was going to survive in this world¡ªno, if I was going to beat it¡ªI couldn¡¯t afford to fret. [Synchronization Complete.] Let them in, I thought, my hands moving languidly toward the Zh¨¥ngf¨² board. My fingers traced the game pieces, resetting the board almost absently, each move deliberate yet automatic. How many hours had I spent mastering Dao of the Divine¡¯s mini-games? Zh¨¥ngf¨² was no exception. Would such knowledge hold any weight now? [New Scenario Loaded.] I needed to know where the game ended and reality began¡ªwhat mechanics I had at my disposal. And it seemed I would have to learn on the fly. I had barely returned the last piece to its rightful place as the door violently slammed open. [Shifting Mode¡­] It was their turn to play now. Chapter 3 [¡°A Poisoned Guest¡­¡±] There were four of them. Two brutes led the way, responsible for a door that was now rather skewed on its track. There weren¡¯t the rough, unwashed sort you might expect skulking in alleyways or lurking at the edge of a dimly lit tavern. No, these men were polished, their fine clothes and well-groomed appearances whispering of wealth and discipline rather than desperation. That didn¡¯t make them any less intimidating. If anything, it amplified it. They were built like well-fed brick walls, the kind of men you¡¯d imagine shrugging off a battering ram as a mild inconvenience. Their glares carried the weight of storm clouds, heavy enough to make even solid stone tremble. One bore a scar slashing across his lips, as though he¡¯d once tried to catch a blade with his mouth and nearly succeeded. Or maybe a sword, given the thick blades hanging from their belts. This setting was really going to take some getting used to. The young courtesan from earlier hovered at the threshold, restless but refusing to enter. She seemed reluctant to be there. Her gaze flitted around the room but never met mine, which suited me fine. There were only so many people who could have slipped poison into the wine. Technically, it hadn¡¯t been my wine¡ªwell, not the me inhabiting Liang Feng¡ªbut that hardly endeared her to me. For what it was worth, the fourth figure was seemingly the one meant to hold my attention. He wasn¡¯t as physically imposing as the two men bracketing him, but he carried himself with an deliberate air of authority as he strode inside. Mid-forties, sturdy build, and watchful eyes that missed nothing. His posture spoke volumes: martial artist. Had to be. The way he measured the room said something else, though¡ªmanager, maybe, or Jianghu¡¯s version of a meticulous accountant? Someone accustomed to keeping order, whether through ledgers or violence. Important. For a moment, I found myself half-expecting another blue screen to flash before my eyes, conveniently offering up his name and a brief dossier. It didn¡¯t appear. Perhaps it only revealed information I already knew? Or perhaps it was limited to situations that directly impacted my actions, like the ominous warning that had kept me from leaping out the window earlier. The rules of this world remained unclear, its systems inconsistent. And that, would pose a problem. I knew the moment I tried to open my lips, only for three options to flicker before my eyes:
Curse out your would be murderers Mock them Threaten them with your name
[Conversation Mode: Liang Feng.] In the brief time I was busy staring at those holographic words, some unseen timer must¡¯ve run out, leaving Liang¡¯s hand¡ªmy hand¡ªto move of its own accord. ¡°You showed up just in time,¡± Liang¡ªno, really, I swear it was him¡ªsaid as he reached for the jar of wine. The words carried a familiar edge, sharp as broken glass but twice as careless. He swirled the jar in the air with a nonchalance that bordered on insulting. ¡°The alcohol you serve here doesn¡¯t really do it for me. Got anything stronger? Something with a real kick? I want to feel truly dead in the morning¡ªnot just like I¡¯ve been sampling some off-the-shelf poison.¡± Damn it. Where Victor Moore¡¯s default choice had always been a cautious mix of let¡¯s be reasonable and please don¡¯t kill me, Liang Feng seemingly favored a default closer to fuck you. It wasn¡¯t even aggressive, really. It was the kind of effortless arrogance that made you want to punch him, just to see if his face could manage an expression other than smug. Which, as it happened, wasn¡¯t an ideal observation. [Hostile Route #2 Chosen.] The manager didn¡¯t so much as flinch. His hand flashed, a blade drawn and swung so quickly that I barely registered the movement before the jar in my hand was severed cleanly in two. The bottom half crashed to the ground, spilling its contents with a splash that felt louder than it should have been. The man sheathed his sword with a deliberate click, leveling me with a gaze that was equal parts unimpressed and calculating. The look alone was enough to send my pulse skittering, but Liang¡ªdamn him¡ªsimply shrugged. ¡°Just as well,¡± he said, tossing the jagged neck of the jar aside. It thudded against the floor, rolling lazily to a stop. ¡°That swill was better for watering plants than drinking anyway. Though¡ª¡± he glanced at the spreading stain on the carpet ¡°¡ªthat¡¯s going to stain something awful, you know?¡± ¡°No worries,¡± the manager replied smoothly, his voice calm, but his words carrying a weight that made me sit a little straighter. Me, not Liang. He lounged just the same. ¡°A few carpets are a small sacrifice in this line of work. Sometimes, the guests get messy. Sometimes, they get rowdy and end up leaving more than a little lightheaded.¡± The emphasis on the last word was as heavy as the sword at his hip. ¡°Either way, whatever happens in here is always paid for out of the customer¡¯s pockets.¡± And there it was, the moment I wanted to interject, to steer things in a safer direction. Something placating, like, No need for violence. I¡¯m sure we can reach an understanding. But the options I were presented with were nothing like that.
Curse out your would be murderers Mock them Threaten them with your name
Was this a damned joke? How am I supposed to¡ª Once more, the invisible timer ran out. ¡°Fortunately,¡± Liang said, and I realized, not for the first time, that his brand of diplomacy was going to get us both killed, ¡°I have rather deep pockets. Deep enough to swallow this entire place whole.¡± Fuck. A second to think. A fucking second to think while I figured things out was all I asked for. And there they were again, my options, slightly different this time:
Demand an explanation Toss a handful of coin at them Invite them to a game of Zh¨¥ngf¨²
Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! I barely had a second to think before selecting the least aggressive option. And just like that, I could feel my soul flinch as intentions mixed, my body moving with perfect, unruffled confidence. My hand swept toward the Zh¨¥ngf¨² board as if we¡¯d been discussing nothing more consequential than the weather. ¡°So,¡± I¡ªLian¡ªsaid, ¡°how about we set aside these petty grievances and enjoy a friendly game?¡± For a moment, silence hung in the room like the aftermath of a misplayed lute chord. And then one of the brutes stepped forward to flip the entire table over. Game pieces, teacups, and the last remnants of the wine all went crashing to the floor. I stared at the mess, feeling a twinge of loss that was only half about the Zh¨¥ngf¨² board¡ªI really had hoped to test what game mechanics were active in this world. The other half was reserved for my rapidly dwindling hopes of turning this into a conversation instead of a confrontation. Liang Feng was writing my obituary faster than I could salvage it. ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand your situation here, mister,¡± the brute growled, his voice as rough as the scar slashed across his lips. ¡°No one threatens the young miss. Least of all under this roof.¡± There was no choice this time. Maybe it was because I¡ªthe Victor Moore part¡ªwas stunned to silence. Liang, however, just clicked his tongue, a sound so dismissive it could have stripped paint. He didn¡¯t even glance up, his eyes fixed on the scattered game board with an air of theatrical annoyance. ¡°And I don¡¯t think you understand the rules of Zh¨¥ngf¨²,¡± he said, gesturing to the chaos. ¡°That was an illegal first move.¡± This time, I didn¡¯t see the blade until it was already there, its edge a whisper from my face. A stinging pain bloomed along my cheek, and the warmth of blood began its slow trickle down to my jaw. For the second time that night, death leaned close enough to brush my skin with its cold breath. My heart kicked once, hard. Maybe it was the smell of my own blood, sharp and metallic, that pulled something dark and reckless from the depths of me. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t me at all. Maybe it was Liang Feng, some deeper, more dangerous part of him slipping through when my nerves frayed thin. [Dominance trait activated.] [Player choices overruled.] Before I even registered the motion, my hand slapped the blade aside, the metal ringing like a struck bell. I was on my feet, like a puppet dancing on unseen strings, I stepped closer, my eyes never leaving the man before me. It wasn¡¯t until I opened my mouth that I realized the ugly, low sound I¡¯d been hearing was my own laughter. ¡°Try that again,¡± I said, my voice steady and cold, the kind of calm that prickled at the edges of madness. ¡°Go on. Don¡¯t miss this time.¡± Those words weren¡¯t mine. They couldn¡¯t be mine. They carried a weight and certainty so absolute that it made my skin crawl. Those were the words of someone dangerous. Of someone who would smile in the face of death and call it a friend. Liang¡¯s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile that I was horrified to feel stretching across my own face. ¡°Because if you do,¡± he continued, his tone soft as silk but no less cutting, ¡°it¡¯ll be your body they find scattered across every corner of the city by morning.¡± In that moment, I understood two things about my new reality. The first was that being ¡°in control¡± of Liang Feng was like trying to steer a wild horse down a narrow road. I could nudge him, sure. But when the reins slipped, they slipped hard. The second was the more sobering truth: I truly was in another world. Jianghu wasn¡¯t a place where laws kept you safe. It was a world of might makes right, where respect wasn¡¯t given¡ªit was claimed. And now, a clenched fist struck me across the side of the head with the kind of force that could unseat a lesser moon. The world spun wildly, the floor rushing up to meet me in an unforgiving embrace. My vision blurred, and the sharp tang of blood filled my mouth, more trickling from my nose. Heavy steps came closer, their rhythm a drumbeat of impending doom. Words were spoken, but they drowned in the twists of my swirling mind. Another bad end loomed, careening towards me with the inevitability of a poorly made choice in a game I should have mastered. [Critical choice!] And then, the world around me crawled to a halt as that blue screen once more flickered to life before me:
Fight Curse out your would be murderers Threaten them with your name
Underneath, an ominous timer came into view, slowly ticking down. 00:20¡­ At least I knew it was there this time. 00:19¡­ Shit. My eyes snapped back to the screen¡ªthe only part of me that could move as the rest of the world remained in tar-like slow-motion. [Fight][Curse out your would be murderers][Threaten them with your name] Where the hell was my preferred: Apologize profusely and hope for the best? 00:17¡­ Think. I hadn¡¯t spent years of my life on Dao of the Divine just to die on my first encounter. There was a line here. A thread. There had to be. I just needed to find it. 00:15¡­ My thoughts were a whirlwind, spinning and scattering like papers in a storm. And then, as I blinked through the haze clouding my vision, I could see it. Sloppy. All of this was too sloppy¡­ 00:13¡­ Chaotic as everything seemed, I knew this story. Liang Feng¡¯s family was far from insignificant. They weren¡¯t imperial or sect royalty, but they were a name with weight, capable of sending ripples through the game¡¯s narrative. And this place¡ªthis brothel¡ªwas more than it seemed. I¡¯d spent countless hours piecing together its role in the shadowed corners of the game¡¯s world, its whispered ties to one of my favorite characters. 00:11¡­ As these thoughts flickered through my mind, there it was¡ªthe telltale shimmer of a blue screen, hovering before my hazy eyes, its light cutting through the chaos. A piece of the notes written by my own hands, years ago, appearing before me.
The Silk Veil Pavilion
Category: Establishment
Notoriety: ¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï¡ï
Description: Hidden in plain sight within the bustling city of Zhuoyang, The Silk Veil is an opulent brothel that caters to the elite of the martial world¡­ On the surface, it¡¯s a haven of pleasure and indulgence¡­ but beneath the surface, it serves as one of the Emei Sect¡¯s most lucrative and secretive enterprises¡­ A single night within The Silk Veil¡¯s perfumed halls could unravel a merchant¡¯s trade secrets or uncover the schemes of a rival sect¡­
The text went on, but I already knew it by heart. And this wasn¡¯t Zhuoyang. 00:09¡­ Nor was this the famed Silk Dew Pavilion, with its gilded halls and veiled whispers. This was a fledgling branch in a neighboring province, a foothold precariously balanced on ambition and intrigue. Still, losing it over something as ham-handed as a shoddy assassination would be a crippling blow to the Emei Sect, rippling out to reshape the region¡¯s balance of power for years to come. 00:07¡­ It was laughable, honestly. The Emei Sect was known for thinking twice, acting once. No respectable member of its ranks would risk offending the Feng family¡ªleast of all Mei Faolang. Not here. Not in a place where their influence was still taking root, every new client a brick in their foundation. It really was shitty writing. Unless, of course, this wasn¡¯t their plan at all. 00:05¡­ A spark caught in my thoughts, a thread pulling taut. What if the plot ran deeper? 00:04¡­ I could see it. Something larger moving behind the scenes. A secret I¡¯d never discovered. 00:03¡­ The realization sent a thrill coursing through me, cutting through the pounding ache in my head. Maybe this assassination attempt wasn¡¯t as sloppy as I thought. 00:02¡­ But there was no time to think about that now. 00:01¡­ I made my choice, and the world moved once more. A hand reached out to drag me to my feet, but Liang swatted it away as if brushing off a bothersome fly. Blood dripped down his chest, vivid against the white of his robes, but he looked utterly unbothered, even lounging as if he¡¯d chosen to bleed dramatically for effect. ¡°You really have no idea who I am, do you?¡± Liang¡¯s voice was slick with mockery, his gaze sweeping over the gathered figures with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. They couldn¡¯t know. That was the only way all of this made sense. Now, if I can only¡ª ¡°All your heads will roll by morning, you stupid dogs.¡± I froze even before Liang had finished the sentence. That part hadn¡¯t been included in [Threaten them with your name]. Shit. Chapter 4 [¡±A Daughter of the Emei Sect¡­¡± If these past few minutes had taught me anything, it was that Liang Feng could be managed¡ªreeled in, even¡ªif I gave the task my absolute, undivided attention. Picture wrestling an overexcited dog, convinced beyond reason that humping every leg it encountered was an entirely appropriate course of action. Now add the complication of trying to plug a hundred leaking holes at the same time. That was my brain. The young man cleaning blood from my face flinched as our eyes met. Too much of Liang¡¯s glare had slipped through, but I didn¡¯t have the luxury to care. I was busy keeping the bigger dam from bursting. His mouth needed to remain shut. The Feng name might have bought me precious moments, but patience was a finite thing. Coin and word would only keep me alive for so long, and bigger fish always lurked in deep waters. And I was out deep, having come face to face with one of Dao of the Divine¡¯s key characters. She sat across from me, poised and collected, at a table that had only just been returned to its rightful position. The shards of broken porcelain were gone, whisked away like an inconvenient memory. Only a roughly put together Zh¨¥ngf¨² board remained to fill the surface between us. Its pieces were not arranged in any state legal moves could ever reach, but such a small OCD part of my brain didn¡¯t matter. Not right now. ¡°I apologize for the misunderstanding, Master Feng,¡± she said, lowering her head just enough to seem respectful without losing an ounce of composure. Mei Faolang. She was younger than I¡¯d expected¡ªher skin smooth, unmarked by burns, and free from the layers of makeup trying, and failing, to conceal the subsequent scars. Her eyes, though. Her eyes were what struck me most. They lacked the quiet pain and shadowed regret I¡¯d come to associate with her character¡ªor rather, her person. This wasn¡¯t some scene from my phone screen, and she wasn¡¯t a tragic figure yet. Just a young woman, hardly more than a girl, sitting in front of me, real and alive in a way I could scarcely fathom. And despite her youth, she carried a poise and gravity that Liang Feng¡ªhell, even I¡ªcouldn¡¯t hope to muster on our best days. But it was a subtle thing, and the shallow part of me that was Liang had already dismissed her. She wasn¡¯t the most alluring girl. Not even in this room¡ªwhere polite figures moved with quiet efficiency to restore the aftermath of the earlier chaos¡ªwas she the standout. She was a bit too thin, freckles dusted across her nose, and the angles of her face strayed far from any conventional beauty standard. But still, something about her, perhaps the sharp gleam of her cat-like eyes or a subtle, unspoken charm, tugged at me. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t her at all. Maybe it was the Victor part of me, the part that knew too much of her story. The woman she was destined to become. It was surreal, meeting her like this. Not like meeting some celebrity or historical figure you¡¯d read about. No, this was like being told Son Wukong himself was real, only to be seated across from him over a cup of tea, your life floating somewhere at the bottom of the lukewarm liquid. For better or worse, Liang Feng wasn¡¯t half as awestruck as I was.
Demand her head Threaten to burn the place down Be snarky
The choices paraded before me like a cruel joke. There was never a real choice to begin with. [Be snarky] ¡°Which part was the misunderstanding?¡± Liang snorted, leaning back with practiced ease. ¡°The part where you served me poison, or the one where it didn¡¯t kill me? Because your friends certainly tried to correct that last bit earlier.¡± ¡°The misunderstanding,¡± Mei Faolang said smoothly, ¡°surrounding my friends¡¯ treatment of you. One which was born from a report of a lunatic being loose in your room, threatening to burn this place down and kill us all. From what I¡¯ve gathered, your actions upon their arrival did little to dispel those claims.¡± I barely spared the screen a glance as it flickered before my eyes.
Threaten Argue Dismiss
There was no way I could simply dismiss the mistress of this establishment, no matter how young she seemed, and trying to threaten her was sure to get me killed. [Argue] ¡°How careless of me,¡± Liang drawled, ¡°bursting into someone¡¯s room in the middle of the night, waving my sword around like a flaccid cock.¡± He rolled his eyes dramatically. ¡°From what I¡¯ve heard,¡± she replied, unfazed, ¡°someone was, actually, waving a rather unseemly thing around in the main hall last night, causing quite the ruckus. None of those present were particularly impressed.¡± This time, the blue screen didn¡¯t even appear. It was as if my choices had already been set to auto-select as long as I didn¡¯t make a conscious effort to inject. Perimeters: don¡¯t threaten anyone, don¡¯t escalate the situation, and try not to be too much of an asshole. Liang clearly struggled with the latter part. ¡°I¡¯d beg to differ,¡± he said, unflinching. ¡°I¡¯d say most of the people were impressed, it¡¯s just that some prudes have too much pride to admit the part. Gentlemen lacking confidence, and ladies trying to comfort them despite stealing constant glances.¡± Mei sent us a scathing glare. ¡°That aside,¡± she said, ¡°you made some rather unsubtle threats about poisoning the establishment¡¯s wine earlier, did you not?¡± ¡°About getting poisoned,¡± Liang corrected, the faintest edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. ¡°Bitterthorn. In. My. Wine.¡± ¡°Then that warrants an investigation of its own, aside from any misunderstandings born from the poor behavior of all parties involved,¡± Mei said evenly, leaving little room for argument. Liang could have argued¡ªhe was about to¡ªbut perhaps sensing the snark coiling in his throat, Mei waved her hand with a practiced grace. The reaction was immediate. The servants bustling about the room stilled, then departed with respectful bows. Their absence left the room unnervingly quiet for a full second before the manager-like man entered, his steps breaking the stillness. ¡°Any success in finding where Nao disappeared to, Bi Han?¡± Mei asked, her tone as light as if she were inquiring about a misplaced teacup.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°None so far, ma¡¯am,¡± the man said, dropping to one knee as though in deference to a queen. It struck me then, how peculiar it was to see someone so young commanding this kind of respect. Even when the room was filled with courtesans and servants, they had moved around her like their center of gravity. It wasn¡¯t the grudging, fearful reverence someone like Liang could coerce with threats and coin either. This was the deeper kind, the ¡°I would die for you¡± kind of respect. It made me uncomfortable. ¡°I had intended to keep an eye on her, but she vanished during our... misunderstanding with Master Feng here.¡± My eyebrows rose at that. In a sense, it was a relief being able to defer some control of Liang¡¯s body just then. All of this¡ªDao of the Divine being real¡ªremained as jarring now as when I first awoke here. But now, there was the increasing sense of something being off. Beyond the fact that I¡¯d been reincarnated as a game character, that was. A plot point I couldn¡¯t quite put my finger on. I needed time to think. To process. Though, maybe leaving Liang in charge was more reckless than I¡¯d realized. [Error. Script Failed To Load Properly.] ¡°Brilliant,¡± Liang snorted, picking up the damp cloth, left behind by the young man who¡¯d been cleaning our wounds, to press it against our swollen face. ¡°And here I thought the great Mei Faolang was supposed to be someone impressive. But instead, I find a child who can¡¯t even keep her own employees from trying to assassinate me.¡± The room froze, and so did I. How the hell did he know that name? She¡¯d introduced herself as Chunfen earlier. I only knew Mei Faolang¡¯s real name because I had played Dao of the Divine. But there was no time to dwell on it. The last word had barely left my lips as the manager¡¯s blade appeared at my throat in a blur of steel. [Reassessing Scenario¡­] ¡°How do you know that name?¡± he hissed, echoing my confusion. His knuckles were white against the hilt, his eyes narrow with murderous intent. Even Mei had gone still, her earlier command of the situation crumbling like paper under a heavy rain. That seemingly amused Liang to no end. I could feel it in his body¡ªin a smirk that was enough to make my skin crawl. ¡°Did you let the rumors surrounding my name cloud your judgment?¡± His voice carried a casual, cutting cruelty I hadn¡¯t known he possessed. ¡°Break a few vases, insult a few people, raise the occasional racket¡ªit¡¯s such an easy way to be dismissed as the ¡®useless third son.¡¯ After that, no one bothers to notice your actions. They just roll their eyes and say, ¡®How typical of that punk.¡¯ A character hardly worth remembering.¡± The words hung in the air like smoke, sharp and acrid. I shuddered, an uncomfortable heat settling under my skin. Why did those words feel so pointed? [Error. Unknown Entity Detected.] ¡°The me you don¡¯t see,¡± Liang continued, his tone curling like the edges of a burning page, ¡°is far more interesting than someone like you could ever hope to be, Mei Faolang. Yet they brush me aside as a footnote in your story. How convenient it is to blame the ¡®trash character¡¯ for every failure. How easy to dismiss your blindness.¡± Those words weren¡¯t for her. They were for me. [Reassessing Scenario¡­] This wasn¡¯t the world pushing me down a predetermined route. This was Liang Feng, as present in this body as I was. I could feel him, his annoyance sharpening like a blade against stone. And just like I was given access to his body, it seemed he had access to my mind and memories. He knew what I¡¯d been thinking about him. [Rewriting Scenario¡­] New Objective: Discover who Liang Feng was before the beginning of Dao of the Divine. Reward: Plotline: ¡°A burden to bear.¡± ¡°What under the celestial skies are you talking about?¡± the manager growled, his blade pressing so close to my throat that a single twitch would draw blood. But Mei, with a slight wave of her hand, stopped him. The blade retreated, but the tension in the room didn¡¯t lessen. Mei¡¯s eyes fixed on me, sharp and assessing, as if she were picking apart my very soul. ¡°Should I assume you¡¯re here on your own accord, or representing your family?¡± she asked, her voice stripped of the earlier politeness. A mask had fallen away, and for the first time, I saw a glimpse of the real Mei Faolang¡ªthe woman I¡¯d admired through the screen for years. The realization stirred something unexpected in me: annoyance. [Error. Unknown Entity Detected.] Liang clicked his tongue, his expression growing lazier, more dismissive, as if she weren¡¯t even worth looking at directly. ¡°You think one is better than the other, but it really isn¡¯t,¡± he said, his tone that familiar blend of laziness and condescension. Just a brat, a spiteful voice inside me seemed to say, completely disregarding Mei¡¯s presence. No one worth paying attention to. Then came the smirk, sharp enough to cut glass. ¡°If I were here to represent of my family, I might have some control over what happens next. But I don¡¯t. Everything from here on out, Mei Faolang, is because of your inadequacies.¡± [Proceeding With New Scenario¡­] Trait Activated: Coincidence or Timing? Sometimes, the world seems too eager to underscore a character¡¯s monologue. Just be sure to never tempt fate by complimenting the weather. The words had barely left my lips as screams rose in the distance, carried upon a quiet breeze. The acrid scent of fire followed, faint but unmistakable. It can¡¯t be¡­ And then it came, the crackling sound of fireworks, like a seal stamped for the chaos to come. My heart to plummeted. That wasn¡¯t the sound of celebration. Not to me. It was the prelude of a hundred things that¡¯d gone wrong, turning the night into a canvas of something far more sinister. My mind¡¯s eye snapped to the worst case scenario. A budding city by the river ablaze. It¡¯s people slaughtered. The tragic back story of a young woman in full swing. New Objective: Find Nao Chunhua Before it¡¯s too late, discover the truth behind Liang Feng¡¯s assassination and the downfall of the Gonghe River Pavilion. Requirement: Mei Faolang must survive. Reward: Fate Event: Friend or Foe? Mei Faolang. Underneath the blue screen, a timer flickered into view: 01:00:00¡­ 00:59:59¡­ Mei was already on her feet, her composure stretched thin. Her earlier veneer of control was gone, replaced with sharp-edged tension. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± she demanded, her voice steady but her eyes searching. Liang Feng slouched deeper into his chair, the picture of disdainful indifference. If Mei was a taut bowstring, he was a bored cat, batting lazily at a bug. ¡°It seems,¡± he said, a faint smile playing on his lips, ¡°that things are finally getting interesting.¡± Even before those first screams had faded into the distance, the manager¡ªBi Han¡ªhad rushed to the window, his movements quick but precise. Now, standing with his hand stiffly resting on the hilt of his sword, he turned back toward Mei with a grim shake of his head. The regret on his face spoke volumes: he had no answers for her. ¡°Early celebrants of the Resplendent Harmony Festival?¡± he tried, but there was no conviction to his words. If anything, they merely caused my heart to sink deeper. Today really was that day: the anniversary of the Heavenly Demon¡¯s fall. But the night was too bright outside, too alive for just fireworks and festivities. Flames danced across distant rooftops, and the streets were soon filled with panicked voices, scrambling bodies, and confusion. Mei¡¯s narrowed eyes landed on me. ¡°As I told you, nothing to do with me,¡± Liang Feng said, raising his hands in mock surrender. The smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his words, an unmistakable satisfaction curling at their edges. ¡°This is all on you, Mei Faolang.¡± It wasn¡¯t just the smirk¡ªit was the way his tone seemed to savor the chaos, like a spark admiring the fire it had lit. I wanted to cringe, to crawl out of this disaster, to do anything other than ride along in his skin like a helpless passenger. And then, it happened.
Scenario Established.
Tutorial Entering Phase Two¡­
Objective: Survive the Resplendent Harmony Festival.
Difficulty: Nightmare
Granting full control of Liang Feng¡­
It was as if I¡¯d been shaken awake from a dream. The creeping fog of paralysis¡ªof helplessness¡ªlifted in an instant. I sank back into Liang Feng¡¯s body like a breath that¡¯d been released, his limbs suddenly moving with the precision and immediacy of my own. I flexed my fingers instinctively, relishing the agency, even as dread curled cold fingers around my throat. The timing couldn¡¯t have been worse. ¡°Get down!¡± Bi Han¡¯s voice rang sharp and clear, slicing through the moment¡¯s eerie stillness. The half-open window shattered. Something tore through it in a streak of black and silver. An arrow, but not like any arrow I¡¯d seen in my world. Its shaft was thick, its payload far too heavy, hissing with the promise of destruction. A single breath later, the world erupted in flames. Chapter 5 [¡±Survive¡­¡±] Where Liang¡¯s languid movements had made it feel like I was wading through molasses all night, the moment the window was breached, my body became light as a feather. Trait Activated: A Gamer¡¯s Reflexes Grade: Foundation Process information 1.2 times faster. Drains Qi at an accelerated rate. Springing to my feet, the room snapped into perfect, brutal clarity. Every detail stood sharp: where we were standing, where the burning arrow would land, and where the explosion would bloom. The ground itself seemed to glow faintly, tracing the deadly radius before it even happened. But knowing wasn¡¯t enough. My body had to keep up. Two steps carried me to Mei¡¯s side, and then the arrow struck. The air screamed as the explosion consumed it, and a shockwave of heat slammed into my back, burning my calves and neck as I flung myself forward. Mei let out a sharp gasp as we tumbled into the hallway, the flames roaring just behind us. We hit the floor hard, rolling awkwardly across the wooden boards, smoke and the acrid smell of burnt hair filling my nostrils. For a moment, everything was soundless except for the lingering, high-pitched whine that rang in my ears. Then the chaos came rushing in. Screams tore through the air. The pounding of feet echoed from the floors below, the clash of steel ringing faintly over the relentless roar of flames. The Pavilion was alive with carnage, the walls crackling as they began to give way. Even as I became aware of it all, however, it felt distant. Muted. As if everything¡ªthe heat, the fire, the screams¡ªplayed out as if in a movie. As if in a game. Trait Activated: Detached PoV Grade: Foundation See the world from a Player¡¯s perspective. Sufficient damage will break this stance and put it on cooldown. Cooldown: 8 hours The entire screen flickered as the stinging pain of my burns registered, sharp and immediate. I winced, the trait stabilized, and the pain faded into something distant¡ªpresent, but dull. Like background noise in a busy room. How much pain would I be in if this thing fully broke? I didn¡¯t feel like finding out. Mei coughed underneath me, her breath rattling against the thick, smoke-laden air. The heat clung to everything like a suffocating blanket. I peeled myself off her, my limbs unsteady but functional, just in time to hear heavy, uneven footsteps stumble out of the wrecked room behind us. Bi Han. His clothes were smoldering, the fabric scorched and torn. Skin peeled away in raw patches where the flames had licked too close. Part of his hair was gone, leaving charred stubble in its place, and blood ran in thin, sharp lines down his sooty face. He staggered to a stop, swaying slightly as his eyes found mine. He¡¯d taken the explosion better than I¡¯d expected. Better than either of us could have, at least. Had we still been in that room, we would have been nothing but ash. ¡°What did you do?¡± he roared, his voice raw and jagged, like splintered wood dragged over stone. Pain wove through every syllable. No matter how much Qi he was circulating to remain standing, it wasn¡¯t enough to dull the wounds etched into his body. He must¡¯ve felt every single one. "I did nothing," I said, the words leaving my lips with an eerie distance. It was strange hearing my own voice under Detached PoV. It wasn¡¯t quite mine, but it wasn¡¯t Liang¡¯s either. It felt like listening to a stranger¡ªsomeone close enough to mimic my thoughts but distant enough to chill me. "This is the reckoning event for allowing a member of the Feng family to get assassinated under your roof." "But you¡¯re still alive¡­" Mei rasped, her voice rough with smoke as she struggled to her feet. Her eyes were clouded with confusion and prickly tears, and I couldn¡¯t blame her. If I hadn¡¯t resigned myself to the impossibility of this¡ªa game world made real¡ªI¡¯d probably look the same. "I¡¯m trying to figure out that part, too," I said, brushing ash from my sleeves. The truth sat heavy in my chest, half-formed and restless. Indeed, this wasn¡¯t a plotline I¡¯d ever played through, and it felt like staring into a riddle without a single piece of the answer. "Seems your little ¡®Nao¡¯ friend slipping away has sped things up a bit. They are already here." Or maybe it was my fault. My careless words. The fact that I was alive. Too many moving pieces, too little knowledge. All I had were scraps¡ªfaint memories of this moment as it had played out in the game. I knew the ending, at least: Mei would survive. I wouldn¡¯t. And she¡¯d carry the weight of this night with her for the rest of her life. New Objective: Fate Breaker Survive the Resplendent Harmony Festival. Yeah, that doesn¡¯t help¡­ "Sped what up?" Mei snapped, her glare sharp enough to cut. The heat pressed in around us, the flames roaring behind her. A charred beam cracked and fell with a crash, sending embers scattering through the air. That wasn¡¯t normal fire. The searing intensity licked at her back, but she didn¡¯t so much as flinch. She needed answers. And Liang¡ªbless his smug arrogance¡ªhad already made it impossible for me to feign ignorance. "Who are they?" she demanded, stepping closer. Her words hung in the air like a drawn blade.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. "Wu family," I almost said. But that wasn¡¯t right. A rival sect? The demonic faction? The answer danced just out of reach, tantalizing but elusive. In my hesitation, the quip came almost instinctively¡ªlike the idle voice line of an NPC, detached and flippant. "You tell me, information broker." Even with Detached PoV buffering the edges of my fear, I could feel Liang Feng lurking somewhere just beneath the surface, his mocking tone seeping into mine. He was always there, wasn¡¯t he? Smirking, needling, whispering from the shadows of my own thoughts. At the corner of my eye, the manager shifted, his hand tightening on the hilt of his blade. The faint scrape of steel against its sheath sent a prickle of unease down my spine. For a breath, I braced myself, half-expecting my head to go rolling across the floor. Instead, his voice came, raw and strained¡ªnot the bellow of a warrior but the frayed plea of a man pushed to his limits. "Miss, we can¡¯t¡ª" "I know," Mei interrupted, her words as sharp as the blade that¡¯d slipped into her hand. She didn¡¯t look at him, though. Not once. Her eyes stayed locked on me, unblinking and unyielding, as if she could pin me in place through sheer force of will. "Rally everyone," she ordered, her voice low and commanding, a steel edge lurking beneath the smoke-roughened tone. "Figure out what¡¯s going on. Meet me downstairs." The manager hesitated, his stance shifting ever so slightly, as if torn between protest and obedience. But in the end, he gave a stiff nod and turned, his footsteps fading into the chaos beyond. "And you," Mei said, her focus never wavering. The blade in her hand gleamed in the flickering firelight as it leveled at my chest. "You are not going anywhere that I can¡¯t see you." Temporary Party Formed. Mei Faolang Combat: ¡ï¡î¡î¡î¡î Support: ¡ï¡ï¡î¡î¡î Surveillance: ¡ï¡ï¡î¡î¡î Special Abilities: Unavailable I swallowed hard, half-aware of the smirk tugging at my lips¡ªLiang¡¯s smirk, or mine? It didn¡¯t matter. The sword didn¡¯t tremble. Neither did she. "Wouldn¡¯t dream of it," I said, my voice smooth enough to hide the fact that I was already calculating the fastest route to the nearest exit.
She was right at my heels as we descended toward the second floor, our pace urgent but steady. For once, Liang¡¯s usual arrogance didn¡¯t bubble to the surface to slow me down. No leisurely sauntering through this burning chaos, thank the heavens. If Mei hadn¡¯t stabbed me for it, the fire surely would¡¯ve finished the job. The heat pressed in from all directions, wrapping around us like a living thing, fierce and suffocating. Each breath was a battle, my lungs raw from the smoke that¡¯d made the luxurious hallways into an unrecognizable haze. The once-pristine d¨¦cor was reduced to ash and flickering shadows, the space heavy with choking blur. I bent low, squinting against the stinging smoke, just barely able to make out the shapes of others moving through the chaos. They were everywhere¡ªconfused figures stumbling out of rooms, their panicked movements no more than hazy silhouettes against the glowing backdrop of flame. Their voices were muted to my ears, distant and indistinct, lost in the roar of the fire. They didn¡¯t look much better off than I was, their faces pale, their robes half-singed, their steps faltering as they struggled to understand what was happening. Mei, however, didn¡¯t falter. Her voice cut through the noise like the crack of a whip, sharp and commanding as she shouted to each figure we passed. "Get to the stairs! Move! Get outside now!" Her tone left no room for hesitation, and she didn¡¯t pause to see if they obeyed. There was a resolve in her, unshaken by the flames or the chaos. Impressive as it was, it wasn¡¯t necessarily what I would¡¯ve done. A small, callous voice whispered in the back of my mind, pointing out how the other guests¡¯ frantic movements slowed us down, how the crush of panicked bodies blocked the stairs and ate away at the precious seconds we didn¡¯t have to spare. I could see the calculations as clearly as I could see the spreading flames: less time for them meant more time for us. But Mei didn¡¯t share such thoughts. She kept yelling, kept pushing them forward, and I kept following. Behind us, the fire consumed everything with terrifying speed. Whatever unnatural thing fueled those flames, it devoured the walls like paper. The moment we¡¯d left the third floor behind, I¡¯d glanced back just in time to see the stairway collapse into a fiery abyss. Any thought of retreat vanished with it. There would be no second chances if we made a wrong move. Ahead, the first floor loomed, but the noise that reached us now weren¡¯t comforting. The screams and cries weren¡¯t just panic anymore; there was something sharper to them¡ªanger, hostility. The sound of a scuffle broke through the crackling of the flames, voices raised in argument, rough and volatile. Whatever waited for us down there, it wasn¡¯t safety. It wasn¡¯t salvation. And it was the only way out. ¡°What¡¯s the meaning of this?¡± Bi Han¡¯s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding. It carried through the smoke and rising heat, reaching us as clearly as a blade¡¯s edge. He¡¯d moved faster than either of us could follow, to confront whatever madness had rooted itself at the heart of this inferno. One we would soon learn of, too. We reached the second-floor landing, and the scene below unfolded like a tableau. From our vantage, we could see most of the main hall. Guests, courtesans, and servants stood frozen in a confused, desperate throng. Smoke curled above their heads, and though the fire wasn¡¯t yet as fierce on the ground floor, the steady groan of strained wood and snapping beams would have told them what was coming. The building wouldn¡¯t last much longer. Yet none of them ran. None of them even moved. They couldn¡¯t. The entrance was blocked. A line of soldiers, their armor dark and gleaming in the firelight, stood at the doors like a wall of steel. The sight was unnatural, almost surreal against the chaos surrounding them. They were unhurried, unpanicked, and utterly immovable. ¡°Imperial soldiers?¡± Mei murmured at my side. Her voice carried a thread of disbelief that I felt too, though I only shook my head. I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off the scene below, my stomach knotting tighter with every second. One of the soldiers stepped forward. He didn¡¯t need to shout. His voice was soft but carried a weight that reached every corner of the hall, cold and deliberate, creeping like frost over an open grave. ¡°Gonghe River Pavilion,¡± he began, each word as precise as a knife thrust, ¡°you are accused of the murder of Liang Feng, a beloved son of the Feng Merchant Clan. Bring us his corpse, or share his burning grave.¡± The knot in my stomach unraveled into something colder, heavier, darker. My unease grew teeth, sinking into me with a grim certainty. ¡°We need to get away from here,¡± I murmured, tugging at Mei¡¯s arm. ¡°Fast, before they¡ª¡± But Mei wasn¡¯t listening. She stood firm, rooted to the floor like an ancient tree in a storm. Her expression was sharp, her lips pressed into a line of unyielding fury. I could see the fire in her eyes, brighter than the flames consuming the building above us. I might have admired her resolve if it weren¡¯t about to get us killed. ¡°What are you doing?¡± I hissed, trying again to pull her back, but she wrenched free. Mei¡¯s voice cut through the chaos like the crack of a whip. ¡°What do you fools think you¡¯re doing? I don¡¯t know what madness drove you here, but you¡¯re risking everyone¡¯s lives by blocking the doors like that!¡± Her words carried the righteous anger of someone convinced she was addressing imperial soldiers, men bound by laws and oaths. She didn¡¯t realize these men were bound by something far colder. ¡°And move,¡± she added, with the kind of threat only a truly infuriated Mei could muster, ¡°before I make you. Liang Feng isn¡¯t dead. He¡¯s right¡ª¡± I grabbed for her, but too late. Far too late. The soldiers turned as one. Their movements were not the slow pivot of men startled by a sudden voice. Their heads snapped toward us like metal to a lodestone. The way they moved¡ªthe perfect unity, the eerie stillness¡ªmade my skin crawl. I couldn¡¯t see their faces from here, but I could feel their gazes, empty and predatory, boring into us. The silence stretched, unbearably taut. Then the leader stepped forward, his voice carrying the chill of a blade drawn in darkness. ¡°Bring me their corpses.¡± It wasn¡¯t a request. It was a death sentence. Warning! You have been cursed by a Death Mark. Enemies will indiscriminately target you for the next 30 minutes. Chapter 6 [¡±Escape¡­¡±] Our saving grace, if it could be called as such, was that the noose thrown around our necks was a wide spanning one. It wasn¡¯t a piercing stab as much as it was the sweeping scythe of a grim reaper. Around us, more red skulls flickered to life, hovering ominously over the heads of confused bystanders. Even more were illuminating the floor below. The death mark didn¡¯t discriminate between the guilty and the hapless, and in the chaos of the moment, no one realized the true weight of the curse that¡¯d been placed upon them. The shouting, the panic¡ªit was a feverish din of voices trying to make sense of why the soldiers had trapped them in this burning prison. Why weren¡¯t they being let outside? Why were they being held back while the entire building threatened to collapse around them? But confusion turned to horror in an instant. One of the soldiers moved. Not like a man, but like something pulled on unseen strings, jerky and fluid all at once. He sprang to the second floor railing in a single, predatory leap, perching like a gargoyle overlooking its prey on the landing. His armor gleamed unnaturally even in the flickering firelight, a dark and dreadful thing. One moment he was still, and the next, his fingers were buried in the neck of a marked man, the head ripped clean off before the victim even had time to scream. Blood sprayed in an arc, glistening against the firelight. For a moment, I struggled to register what I was seeing, yet somehow, it was the sound that got me first. The wet, awful snap of bone and sinew giving way, followed by the dull thud as the body crumpled to the floor. Had I not yanked Mei back a half-second earlier, that would¡¯ve been one of us. Then the real screaming started. The crowd erupted into chaos, the panic spilling over like water breaching a dam. People fought for their lives, tripping over one another in their haste to retreat from the perched soldier, uncaring who fell or who got pushed closer to the encroaching flames. Not everyone, though. One man stepped forward. He was large, with a belly like a wine cask and a neck thick as a bull¡¯s. Sweat and soot streaked his face, and the ash clinging to his naked arms made him look more like an overworked cook than a warrior. But when he moved¡ªah, when he moved¡ªyou could see it. The fluid grace of a seasoned wulin warrior, every motion precise and deliberate. With a righteous yell, he spun low, his foot arcing high toward the soldier in a wide sweep meant to cripple. It would¡¯ve been beautiful. Would¡¯ve been. The armored figure slid off its perch like oil from a jar, impossibly quick. It ducked even lower, bending its joints unnaturally, almost grotesquely, before springing upward with the force of a whip cracking the air. Five gauntleted fingers burst from the man¡¯s back, punching through muscle, fat, and bone as if he were nothing more than wet paper. The robust figure staggered, his attack dissolving into a gurgling cough. Then, like a marionette with its strings cut, he crumpled to the ground. The soldier stood there, still and silent, his hand dripping crimson. There was no flourish, no show of brutality. Only the terrifying efficiency of someone¡ªor something¡ªthat didn¡¯t consider the act remarkable. On the floor below, the rest of the soldiers were already moving. Not like men bound by duty or honor, but like hunting dogs unleashed into a pen of lambs. Targeting the marked. Ripping them apart. I yanked Mei back with a force that surprised even me, pulling her into the press of bodies clawing and shoving to escape the bloody spectacle. The thick smoke was creeping closer, swirling and curling in the air like a living thing, turning the chaos into a hazy fever dream. Even so, I caught the flicker of another holographic death mark fading into nothing nearby. Another life snuffed out. Another red skull gone. "Those are not of any level we can handle!" I yelled into Mei¡¯s ear, gripping her arm tighter as I felt her resisting, her lithe frame tensing against my hold. Mei Faolang was many things, but a warrior wasn¡¯t one of them¡ªnot yet, not at this point in the story. ¡°You¡¯re just going to run away?¡± her voice was sharp, her anger unmistakable. It burned in her eyes as she turned toward me, fierce and unyielding. But that anger wasn¡¯t for me.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. It wasn¡¯t even for the panicked bodies that barreled into us, nearly knocking us to the ground. It was for everything else¡ªthe chaos, the flames, the screams rising from every corner of the pavilion. Everything she had worked for, everything she had built, her home, was being reduced to ash before her very eyes. Her blade glinted in the haze, raised before I¡¯d even noticed, but it was the stubborn set of her jaw that worried me more. I understood her. I could see it in the way her knuckles whitened around the blade, the way her shoulders trembled just enough to betray her composure. This wasn¡¯t just smoke and fire for her¡ªit was loss. But I didn¡¯t have the luxury of sympathy. At the corner of my vision, the faint shimmer of a blue screen threatened to flare into focus. I didn¡¯t need to read it to know what it said. He who stands on top... ¡°Not running,¡± I said firmly, my voice cutting through the chaos like the snap of a whip. It was as much for her as it was for the screen. ¡°Finding Nao.¡± The last thing I needed was to get dragged into some unwinnable battle. I could still see the timer, a faint, mocking presence in the corner of my vision: 00:53:21... Mei hesitated, her gaze darting between me and the chaos unfolding around us. More death marks were flickering out by the second. Five at a time as a heavy beam came crashing down from the floor above, splitting through the air with a deafening roar before smashing into the ground. It tore through the floor with a deafening quake, dragging screaming silhouettes into the darkness below. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The smoke parted briefly, giving a glimpse of our hectic surroudnings, and in that brief stillness, my eyes locked onto two figures. Bi Han had joined us upon the landing, his movements fluid yet relentless, like the river in flood. He was locked in a ferocious battle with the armored soldier, a dance of death that made everything else feel like a shadow play. But even unarmed, wielding nothing but its gauntleted fingers, the soldier was relentless. Each of Bi Han¡¯s strikes landed with a force that made the air hum, yet the figure remained undeterred. Strikes that blurred with unnatural speed, each one a near miss, each one cutting closer than the last. As much as I wanted to look away, I couldn¡¯t. Mei didn¡¯t look away either. Not until a Qi-enforced yelled slammed into us. ¡°Run!¡± Bi Han roared, sharp and commanding, the single word cutting through the chaos. He didn¡¯t look back as he said it, his focus entirely on the armored soldier before him. I didn¡¯t have to guess who it was meant for. Mei¡¯s hand tightened in mine, her stubbornness like iron, but I felt her waver¡ªjust for a moment. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough. Before she could reconsider, before she could throw herself into a hopeless battle out of pride or revenge, I yanked her forward¡ªstraight through the smoldering hole in the floor. The drop wasn¡¯t far, maybe eight feet, but it wasn¡¯t kind. There was no graceful landing to be had, no acrobat¡¯s roll to soften the blow. The wreckage below had turned the floor into a deathtrap, a jagged mess of burning timber and still-twitching bodies. We hit hard. I slammed ribs-first against the charred beam, pain flaring through my chest as I barely managed to avoid breaking my ankle on the bloated corpse of the fat martial artist from earlier. Mei crashed into me a heartbeat later, the impact forcing a ragged cough from my lungs. The taste of smoke and blood filled my mouth, and for a moment, everything became too much. Detached PoV flickered, the trait at the edge of my vision blinking dangerously. The blood. The stench of charred flesh. The creak of the collapsing building, the distant, echoing screams that seemed to come from everywhere at once. My ribs screamed, my head spun, and my breath caught in the scalding air. I felt the panic creeping up on me, a wave of suffocating terror threatening to drag me under. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the noise of the world around me. And then, like a drowning man breaking the surface of the water, it snapped back into place. The trait returned, fainter and more fragile than before, but there. A screen hovered, translucent and weak, but still legible. I clung to it like a lifeline. I¡¯ll take anything I can get at this point, I thought as I rolled off the burning beam, my chest heaving. Every breath was a struggle, every movement slow and deliberate, but I didn¡¯t let go of Mei¡¯s wrist. ¡°We need to move,¡± I rasped, my voice raw and cracked as I tried to blink the blur from my eyes. The air was thick with smoke, and every breath felt like sandpaper scraping the inside of my lungs. There were too few death marks down here, I realized. Too few glowing skulls hovering above the heads of the damned. If one of the soldiers found us, we¡¯d be dead in an instant. Whether Mei fully grasped the situation or just wanted to escape the spreading flames, she didn¡¯t argue. There was no way back up, anyway. She cast a single glance towards a second floor where death was still clashing, and then at our dim surroundings where firelight painting the shadows like phantoms. ¡°This way,¡± she said, her voice low but steady. I followed without a second thought, the urgency in her step pulling me along before I could argue. Too late, I realized we¡¯d just left the last death marks behind. Now, there were only hers and mine, illuminating our surroundings. They were like beacons, I realized to an ominous feeling settling in my stomach. Flashing neon signs that screamed Here we are! Come and get us! And someone must¡¯ve been listening. We hadn¡¯t taken more than a dozen scrambling steps down the hallway when the wall to our right exploded in a shower of dust and splinters. I stumbled back, coughing and raising an arm to shield my face as shards of wood rained down around us. Mei froze, her blade already in hand as a hulking silhouette staggered through the jagged hole. Outlined by the burning night outside¡ªthe sound of battle and chaos ringing even louder over the town outside¡ªthe figure loomed, grotesque and wrong. Its murky eyes swept the dim hallway, landing squarely on us. It wasn¡¯t one of the soldiers. But I wasn¡¯t sure that made it any better. Warning! Hostile entity detected No shit. Its slack jaws fell open, and the sound that escaped was less a roar and more a hollow, guttural howl. It rattled in its chest like wind scraping through dead branches, and I couldn¡¯t tell if the creature was even breathing. There was no hesitation, no pause for thought. It simply charged. Chapter 7 [¡±Fight¡­¡±] In Dao of the Divine, combat had always been a turn-based thing. An orderly rhythm of strategy: deliberate choices, calculated moves, the luxury of time to breathe. But this thing, whatever it was, waited for no one. I didn¡¯t even have time to roll for initiative as Mei shoved me aside, a wordless yell escaping her lips. A breath later, a lumbering swing carved through the space where I had been standing. I felt the rush of air as it passed, the rancid stink of decay in its wake. Too close. Far too close. The movement sent us scattering, the creature¡¯s massive form forcing me to stumble backward in a graceless shuffle. My feet slipped twice, each step a desperate scramble to get away. It wasn¡¯t elegant, but it was survival. I¡¯d take it. Just like I¡¯d take whatever slim thread of fortune seemed to be watching over me. By the time I found the balance to look up, the thing¡¯s attention was no longer on me. It had turned toward Mei. A snarl like splintering wood tore from its throat, a guttural sound that echoed down the hallway. Mei was already moving, her retreat quick and sharp, each motion precise but edged with tension. A clumsy, sweeping strike came at her, and she ducked, darting to the side as the creature¡¯s rotten limb smashed into the wall. The thing wasn¡¯t fast, not like the soldiers we¡¯d faced earlier, but it was relentless. Another snarling swing, and Mei only just managed to dance out of its reach. With each step, she was leading it away, her every movement buying me time. But there was only so much hallway to dodge down. She couldn¡¯t flee forever. Yet I merely stood there, frozen for half a heartbeat, as its limbs tore chunks out of the walls in its mindless flailing. Where Detached PoV dulled the worst of my panic, it didn¡¯t silence the steady drumbeat of reality that thrummed through me. I knew I should chase after her, should do something to help, but the truth pressed against my chest like a stone: what the hell was I supposed to do? Mei, smaller and quicker than me, was barely staying ahead of the thing. Its swings gouged through the hallway, each blow carving out splinters and debris like a child tearing paper. She darted, ducked, and twisted, but her movements weren¡¯t graceful. They were frantic. Desperate. I, on the other hand, wasn¡¯t fast enough to fight that thing. I wasn¡¯t strong enough. I wasn¡¯t enough. It wasn¡¯t cowardice¡ªnot really. It was something colder than that, something clinical. Detached PoV told me the truth with callous clarity. The thing wasn¡¯t fast, but it didn¡¯t need to be. It wasn¡¯t smart, but it didn¡¯t need to be. It was a death sentence on rotting legs. A walking inevitability. ¡°Just leave the brat.¡± Liang¡¯s voice slithered into my mind, low and smug. ¡°She¡¯s served her purpose. Dead weight at this point.¡± The words grated against me, like splinters under the skin. I wanted to tell him off, to rail against his callousness. But the worst part was how much sense he made. I¡¯d already taken one, less-than proverbial, bullet that night, and it hadn¡¯t ended well for me. This was Jim all over again. Just... less deodorant and more teeth. Another roar ripped through the air. The creature lunged forward, its bulk smashing into a stray cabinet, tearing through it in a spray of shattered wood. Mei barely slipped past, her blade flashing as she buried it between the creature¡¯s ribs. It sank deep, but it didn¡¯t seem to matter. The thing didn¡¯t even stagger. If anything, the attack merely left her one weapon shorter.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. I couldn¡¯t fight it. And yet. Watching Mei retreat step by step, her small figure dwarfed by that hulking monstrosity that once more turned towards her, made my stomach twist. I hesitated a moment longer, saw her stagger back against the wall underneath guttural snarls, her eyes wide with terror, and then I moved. Because if I didn¡¯t, she wouldn¡¯t make it. And if she didn¡¯t make it, well¡ªwhat kind of story would that leave me in? A singed piece of wood lay at my feet, jagged and sharp, blackened from the flames but solid enough. My hand moved before I could think, fingers curling around it. Liang¡¯s voice hissed in protest. This is dumb, Detached PoV told me with startling clarity, each word heavy as an anvil. But even so, I charged. I wasn¡¯t some hot-blooded protagonist. I didn¡¯t scream as I rushed at the creature. That might have bought Mei a second or two to slip away, but I didn¡¯t want its attention¡ªnot fully. If anything, my legs screamed at me to stop, my senses told me to turn around, and my heart hammered a single refrain: I don¡¯t want to die. I hadn¡¯t wished to die when I confronted Jim either. But sometimes, your body just moves regardless of your wishes. So, when the thing raised its arms to crush Mei, cornered and helpless, I lunged¡ªmy smoldering piece of wood raised in front of me. I didn¡¯t swing it. The wood didn¡¯t feel sturdy enough to bat around, and I didn¡¯t trust myself to possess any strength that the creature would feel. Instead, I thrust the splintered end forward like a spear, aiming for the shadowy hollow of its armpit. I found my target with more speed than I¡¯d realized. I had been sprinting as fast as I could and then some. The impact jarred through my hands, an explosion of force that nearly wrenched the weapon free. Splinters bit into my palms, and the smell¡ªGods, the smell¡ªhit me like a wave as I impaled the thing. Rot and bile, death and damp earth. I didn¡¯t have time to breathe or recoil; my momentum drove me forward, slamming me into the creature as it stumbled forward. We hit the wall in a tangled mess of limbs, its rotten bulk a heavy, unyielding weight against me. It was nothing short of a miracle that Mei managed to slip away in time, faster than I could track, but I didn¡¯t see where she went. I didn¡¯t care. The only thing I knew, the only thing I felt, was the overwhelming, suffocating presence of death in front of me. The stench of all things buried pressed against my senses, thick and cloying. Gagging, I kicked and flailed to get myself off it, wheezing for breath as my knees scraped against the floor. My head swam, and the world around me blurred into nothing but smoke, ash, and the sound of Mei¡¯s frantic footsteps as she appeared at my side, hurriedly trying helping me to my feet. She half succeeded. We scrambled back together, hands and feet scrabbling for purchase on the scorched wood. I couldn¡¯t take my eyes off it, couldn¡¯t even blink. Please be dead. Please be dead... And then it twitched. A sickening lurch, like a puppet with half its strings cut. Shit. ¡°Please be dead and stay down,¡± I hissed through clenched teeth. With the piece of wood still lodged deep inside its armpit, the creature began to stagger upright in a grotesque parody of life. Each motion was wrong, a snap and a shudder like some broken thing learning to move for the first time. ¡°We need to get away,¡± Mei breathlessly whispered beside me. Her voice was barely audible over the creak of wood and the crackle of distant flames, but I could feel the dread in it, coiled tight like a spring. She wasn¡¯t wrong. My head screamed to run, to pull her along and disappear before that thing could lurch fully to its feet. But before I could, something caught my eye. There. Just beside us, a faint line of artificial light tracing a jagged crack in the wall. It started around waist height, weaving its way up toward the ceiling above the creature. A ceiling, charred black and sagging under its own weight, that looked like it was a single breath away from collapse. I blinked. Anyone who¡¯d played enough games would recognize the signs. The lever conveniently placed next to the chandelier. The explosive barrels perfectly stacked near oblivious enemies. The precarious rock pile balanced on a ledge. I didn¡¯t think. There was no time to think. I slammed my foot into the crack, putting every ounce of my weight behind it. The wall groaned like an old tree in a storm, and for half a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then everything happened. The ceiling gave way with a sound that wasn¡¯t so much a crash as a roar. A tidal wave of charred beams, flaming debris, and dust surged down the hallway, swallowing the creature whole. It was deafening, blinding, and choking all at once, and I barely had time to yank Mei back before the chaos reached us too. We stumbled, coughing and gagging on the acrid smoke and ash, but when the dust began to settle, the hallway ahead was an impassable mound of rubble. A single tense second, and two screens flickered across my eyes. //Enemy Neutralized// //Combat Essence Increased// //Environmental Kill// //Combat Essence Increased// Chapter 8 [¡±Options¡­¡±] ¡°What¡­ did you do?¡± It was hard to pin down the exact tone of Mei¡¯s voice. Was it awe? Bafflement? Or just sheer, unfiltered disbelief? Probably a mix of all three. I couldn¡¯t blame her. If I had to guess, kicking down ceilings with pinpoint accuracy wasn¡¯t standard practice, even in this twisted world. That left another question creeping in the back of my mind. ¡°Say,¡± I coughed, trying to clear the dust clogging my throat. The air was thick with it, still swirling in the firelight. Flames licked hungrily at the walls from where the rubble had crashed down, and the chaos we¡¯d briefly forgotten during the fight came rushing back in¡ªthe screams, the clash of battle, the haunting stench of death pressing closer. Even so, I had to ask, ¡°You don¡¯t¡­ see anything above our heads, do you?¡± Mei threw a quick glance upward, her expression hesitant. ¡°A ceiling¡­?¡± she said uncertainly, though her frown spoke volumes. No glowing red skull, then. Not for her. It seemed that this world¡¯s more game-like mechanics were mine and mine alone. A private show of glowing markers, combat prompts, and grim reminders hanging in the air, visible only to me. I couldn¡¯t decide if that made me special or just especially cursed. I was the one left to juggle invisible timers, ticking down with a weight that made my stomach churn. 00:46:06¡­ 00:25:52¡­ Twenty-five minutes left as a walking target, forty-six to find Nao. It also left me with the burden of deciding our next move. If survival was all I cared about, the path was simple¡ªcut and run. A clean break into the night, leave the building behind and this mess with it. But survival wasn¡¯t enough. It never had been. Not in Dao of the Divine. Not here. Even as another screen flickered before me, tempting me with its simplicity, I barely considered it. Alternative Objective. Reach the Gonghe River and escape the Resplendent Harmony Festival alive. Warning! Any Objectives still active within the town will be forfeited. I drew a few deep breaths. Was I being ridiculous? I hadn¡¯t really thought things through since waking up here. All I knew was that, beating this game¡ªreally beating it¡ªmeant no room for failed quests. No unraveling threads left behind. Somewhere ahead was an entire plotline I¡¯d completely missed, and my perfect ending didn¡¯t involve abandoning it this early. But was that what mattered? A ¡°perfect¡± ending? Shouldn¡¯t I value survival more? I always had as Victor, that was for certain. Never living life to its fullest. Never taking chances, always going for the easy way out¡­ I looked down at my unsteady hand, clenching it into a fist. This was my chance to be someone new. Someone without regrets¡­ ¡°We need to find her,¡± I said. Mei blinked at me, her expression a cocktail of disbelief and exhaustion. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nao,¡± I clarified, stepping toward the jagged hole, left in the wall by the thing¡¯s dramatic entrance. Through it, the narrow alley outside came into view, its shadows deep and shifting in the flicker of firelight. ¡°We need to find Nao.¡± The alley looked quiet enough, at least compared to the chaos we were leaving behind. The kind of quiet that feels less like safety and more like a cat, crouched and ready to pounce. Even the general mayhem of the night¡ªscreams, distant clashes of steel, the crackle of flames¡ªseemed muted here, as if waiting for us to make the first mistake. ¡°Well?¡± I asked, glancing back at Mei. ¡°Are you coming?¡± ¡°I understood the ¡®finding Nao¡¯ part by context,¡± Mei said, her frown tightening. There was a kind of quiet defiance to it. Above and behind us, the building was still creaking, blades were still clashing, and people were dying. ¡°My confusion was more about what ¡®we¡¯ you¡¯re talking about. I¡¯m not leaving my people behind to fend for themselves, and you¡¯re not running away on your own.¡± The glint of a blade caught the firelight, sharp and steady. Its edge leveled with me. How many knives did this girl carry? And more to the point, how many of them were meant for me? ¡°And what do you hope to achieve by staying here?¡± I asked, surprised by how dismissive it sounded. Was it the heat, the smoke, or just the sheer ridiculousness of it all? Or was it the voice of Liang, seeping too deep in my thoughts. ¡°Are you planning to get buried under a burning building in a sign of solidarity? Or maybe you¡¯d prefer to let one of those soldiers take your head off for a neater grave? Either way, ¡®your people¡¯ are going to thank you for it. They¡¯re dying to protect you, Mei. They would prefer it if you ran away in the night, never looking back.¡± The knife wavered, but only slightly. Mei¡¯s jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought she might actually use it. But as I stepped out into the alley, where the air was marginally less suffocating, though still choked with smoke and the acrid tang of burning wood, only her voice followed. ¡°And how do you think you¡¯re going to find Nao?¡± Mei called after me, her voice sharp and rising over the distant roar of flames. ¡°She could be anywhere by now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to let fate lead the way,¡± I said, glancing once left, then right, weighing the shadows and their secrets. The right seemed marginally less murderous, so I went that way. I¡¯d barely taken two steps when a burning chunk of roof came crashing down in front of me, splitting the air with a deafening crack. The ground quaked beneath my feet, and another wave of heat and dust rolled over us, stinging my eyes and lungs. Mei didn¡¯t have to say it, but I could feel her glare burning into my back. ¡°Great plan,¡± she muttered. I coughed, waving away the smoke. ¡°Fate¡¯s a work in progress,¡± I said, and without missing a beat, I spun on my heel, pivoting 180 degrees like some half-drunk dancer as I started walking the other direction. ¡°Which is clearly pointing me to the left,¡± I said, finishing my thought aloud as if the universe needed to hear it.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Mei stared at me like I¡¯d finally gone mad. Maybe she wasn¡¯t entirely wrong. Every fiber in me was buzzing, vibrating with a deep, inexplicable certainty: this was the way forward. It didn¡¯t matter how nonsensical it seemed. I¡¯d already made peace with the absurdity of this world, with its glowing red skulls and eerily game-like mechanics. I¡¯d resigned myself to the guidance of the invisible tutorial. If a hole in the wall conveniently opened up, I¡¯d dive through it without question. If a building tried to fall on me, I¡¯d take it as a nudge to change direction. Did it make sense? Absolutely not. But neither did the fact that I was walking around in a world where death marks hovered like neon signs above our heads. Sense was something I¡¯d left behind the moment I died. She followed after me. Of course she did. Mei Faolang might have had a streak of youthful righteousness that bordered on recklessness, but she wasn¡¯t stupid. Nor was she suicidal. If I had to guess, she was also curious¡ªburning to know what I knew, what drove me forward, who I was. She must¡¯ve known something about Liang Feng. The man had a reputation. But whatever she¡¯d heard, none could¡¯ve lined up with what she was now seeing. Eerie knowledge, a strange calm in the face of death, and the ability to kick down ceilings at a whim. Little did she realize, the real Liang¡ªwho was, for the record, still very much alive in my head¡ªwas currently chuckling smugly about the proud brat trailing us, despite her earlier protests. Me? I didn¡¯t have the energy to be smug. My attention was too fixed on the crimson skull hovering above my head. Some fifteen minutes of restless walking, and I¡¯d learned a few things about it. It had a peculiar habit, that mark. The closer an enemy was, the brighter it burned. Not exactly subtle, but useful in its own grim way. It made hiding pointless¡ªducking into a building and hoping to outwait the timer was a death sentence. But with enough nerve and a convenient indicator for enemy aggro ranges, zig-zagging through danger zones was surprisingly plausible. And so, I found myself conflicted as the death mark¡¯s timer kept ticking down. 00:09:44¡­ Should I have felt relived? Maybe. Every second gone meant one less second to screw up, but it also meant one less second to maneuver. So far, our progress had been steady, if erratic, thanks to the mark. Should it suddenly flare up out of nowhere as we were streaking through a dim alley? Then a left turn, through a half-collapsed building that smelled like soot and despair, would keep us safe as several snarling figures rushed by outside. Then, as we came to a crossroad, it would point us to the right¡ªmy mark glowing fainter than Mei¡¯s where I positioned myself like a dowsing rod. Every route chosen was done so on the whim of a glowing skull, or my own overactive sense of self-preservation. For even if the mark didn¡¯t warn me, I wasn¡¯t about to head into a burning building or walk anywhere near those loudest clashes of battle. Now, it was also thanks to the mark we found ourselves hunkered down behind an overturned cart on a desolate street. The worst of the destruction had already swept through here, leaving the buildings around us charred, hollowed-out shells. A strange silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant cries of the living and the dying. This place was a graveyard¡ªits people either evacuated or lying lifeless in the streets. Not that I trusted the pile of corpses ahead of us one bit. The skull above my head pulsed ominously. We¡¯d seen too many of those things rise from the ground already, and they¡¯d scared the hell out of me every time. I wasn¡¯t keen on finding out if this particular heap was as lifeless as it looked or if¡ª And then, a first twitch up ahead. Fucking knew it¡­ ¡°What are those¡­ things?¡± Mei asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the crackling remnants of the chaos around us. She crouched beside me, her small form tense, like a bowstring drawn too tight. Ever since we left the burning pavilion, Mei had grown quieter. Not out of fear, I thought, but from something colder¡ªshock, maybe. Even to someone like her, steeped in the half-truths of folklore and the stories of this world, the things we¡¯d seen tonight defied imagination. Even to me, who¡¯d played Dao of the Divine for thousands of hours, it had taken a while to accept what these things were. ¡°I suspect you already know,¡± I replied, my eyes fixed on the pile of corpses ahead. It was beginning to stir for real, and the sight sent an uncomfortable ripple down my spine. Computer graphics really doesn¡¯t do the live experience justice¡­ An arm jerked loose, spasming like a half-strung puppet. A leg twitched, testing its weight against the cobblestones. I stole a glance at the crimson skull still burning above my head. Then at a draining timer. 00:08:59¡­ ¡°Jiangshi?¡± she ventured, her voice hesitant, uncertain. She said the word like it might summon them closer. I didn¡¯t answer right away, and she took my silence as tacit agreement. ¡°But¡­ that¡¯s impossible?¡± she whispered, though the rising pitch of her voice made it a question. Impossible. The word hung there, heavy with disbelief. Should¡¯ve been impossible. Yet here we were. Dao of the Divine had always walked a fine line, a xianxia masquerading as wuxia. The wulin and their superhuman feats were common knowledge, feats Mei herself could likely recite as easily as nursery rhymes. But in the darker corners of the world, away from the bright lanterns of civilization, things like this crawled. And over the coming years, if my calender wasn¡¯t completely off, things would only get worse. Still, I didn¡¯t answer. My focus was split between the pile of corpses, the ominous skulls above our heads, and the timer steadily counting down. So far, there had been no dead ends in our journey forward. Whenever our path seemed blocked, there had always been an alternative. A burning building barring the way could be bypassed by clambering over a pile of crates that just happened to lead over a nearby wall. A street teeming with shrieking and fleeing crowds¡ªpursued by more of the undead¡ªcould be dodged by darting down a narrow alley. And if an armored soldier stood silent and watchful on a rooftop, a half-open window likely offered an escape. There had been, up until now, a sense of deliberate narrative pulling us forward. A thread of fate weaving through the chaos, guiding us toward some predetermined goal. But as I crouched there beside Mei, the thread began to feel dangerously thin. Her breath hitched as one of the corpses in the pile rose to its feet, a grotesque parody of life. She clutched her knife tightly, but didn¡¯t move. ¡°Keep quiet,¡± I murmured, my voice barely more than a breath. The street ahead of us stretched long and desolate, but it was losing the latter distinction with every passing moment. More corpses, which had been satisfyingly inert just minutes ago, were starting to shift. An arm jerked here, a head twisted there, and the air began to thrum with that dreadful anticipation of things going terribly, terribly wrong. Even so, the tutorial I¡¯d been betting my life on seemed intent on pointing us straight through this mess. 00:28:17 00:08:03 Two timers, ticking down independently. There were options. Option one: We could turn back, retrace our steps, and hope to find another way forward. But something told me that once we abandoned this path lain out for us, it would unravel completely. And with it, any hope of finding Nao in time. Option two: We could wait. Let the death mark tick down to zero and hope that, without it, the Jiangshi would ignore us. But there was a second timer to worry about, the one counting down toward¡­ something. Something bad. I didn¡¯t know how much slack that clock had, and spending eight minutes sitting still felt like an indulgence we couldn¡¯t afford. Option three: We could fight our way through. Brute force. High risk, high reward. We might die. But¡ª I could still recall those screens flashing across my vision as I brought down the ceiling on the first Jiangshi we¡¯d encountered. Combat Essence increased. It was a sinister way to grow stronger, but it was a way to grow stronger. And having already succeeded once¡­ Well, I couldn¡¯t deny the lure of it. Had I been watching this through my phone screen, I would¡¯ve been salivating at all the potential EXP that lay before me. The one difference being, this wasn¡¯t a game. There was no reset button if I fucked up. Only death. Even so, in the back of my mind, Dao of the Divine one iron rule kept echoing on repeat: the greater the risk, the greater the reward¡­ I let my gaze wander. First, to the barrels scattered near the overturned wagon we were hiding behind. They looked flammable¡ªpossibly explosive. Then, to the surrounding buildings, their walls charred and brittle, sagging like old men under the weight of their own history. A sharp gust of wind¡ªor the right shove¡ªmight bring them down. Finally, I looked at the street ahead. So many undead, sluggishly dragging themselves upright. Juicy clumps of experience. Even before I¡¯d consciously made the decision, I could tell I was going to regret everything that I was about to do. Still, I¡¯d already decided to go for a better ending in my second attempt at life. My plans couldn¡¯t end with just getting through this night. I needed to take whatever boosts in strength I could get, and terrifying as they were to normal people, to a Dao of the Divine veteran, Jiangshi were just bottom-of-the-barrel mobs. Bottom-of-the-barrel mobs that could rip you apart if you got careless. I could feel my heart thump faster. This is a profoundly stupid idea, isn¡¯t it? Chapter 9 [¡±Close Call¡­¡±] As things would have it, I¡¯d been right. It wasn¡¯t hard to tell as I broke through a flimsy door, shoulder first, to a house thick with smoke and ember, blood-curdling snarls snapping at my heels. Option three had, indeed, been a profoundly stupid one. Twice so as I, somehow, had landed the honor of herding the undead horde with my flashing death mark, glowing like a beacon of bad decisions. Scrambling to regain my balance, having barely gotten off the floor, I felt chipped nails scrape at my heels, promising something far worse if I stayed down. Some of those snarls really were way too close. Without looking back, I grabbed hold of a smoldering chair, already running once more as I threw it over my shoulder¡ªbreath ragged, pulse thundering in my ears. Had I volunteered for this role out of some noble sense of duty? A selfless ¡°Don¡¯t ask others to do what you wouldn¡¯t do yourself¡± mantra? No, absolutely not. It had just been impossible to convince Mei to do it, even though she was faster, more agile, and infinitely better suited to the task than I was. Her refusal, naturally, left me with the burden and if I lived long enough to see the end of this, I planned to complain about it at length. If I really did survive. Not all Jiangshi were as sluggish as the lumbering brute back at the pavilion. I¡¯d discovered that to my own detriment. Now, as I threw myself forward to slide beneath an ashen beam, I could see them with startling clarity. Pallid, ravaged hands snatching for my ankles. Bloodied teeth and dark gums nibbling after my toes. Neither of which I intended to give them. I didn¡¯t spare the hundred silhouettes¡ªwhich might¡¯ve only been a slight hyperbole. I hadn¡¯t really gotten the chance to stop and count them¡ªfighting for my tasty flesh a second glance. Not when I needed every ounce of focus to stay ahead. Scrambling to my feet, I simply shouted, ¡°Now!¡± as I darted for the door, but the shadow on the burnt-out second floor had already moved. The heavy barrel, perched precariously on its smoldering ledge, teetered over. It crashed into the beam I had just slid beneath a second earlier, splitting open and spilling crude lantern oil in a wide, indiscriminate splash. The embers caught it eagerly. By the time the flames roared to life, however, we were already halfway out of the building¡ªMei on the second floor, her steps nimble and sure, and me on the first, doing my damnedest not to trip over my own panic. The heat hit me first, searing against my back like the breath of an angry god. Their gurgling screams, rising in grotesque harmony, followed as the mindless horde burst into flames behind me. It almost sounded like pain, almost sounded human, but I didn¡¯t pause to consider it. I didn¡¯t dare. Instead, I kicked another barrel over in passing, the lid coming loose beneath my heel. We¡¯d only managed to haul so many of the barrels inside during the sparse minutes we¡¯d been given, but as I threw myself forward, tumbling out the door just in time for an explosion to roar past inches above my head, I wondered if we might¡¯ve overdone it. The heat licked at me, scorching my skin and prickling my fingers where I shielded the back of my head. Then came the ground¡ªmercifully cold, the mud outside startling against my fevered skin. I lay there, half-stunned, wheezing for breath, and blinking furiously to clear the blinding flash from my vision. My ears whined with the echo of the explosion, but through it, I began to make out the groaning, shuddering creak of the building behind me. I turned just in time to see it collapse. It fell with a sound like thunder, a violent cascade of dust, splinters, and flame that swallowed whatever remained of the undead horde inside. Coughing against the acrid air, I gritted my teeth and forced myself to move, crawling forward through the muck and ash. My muscles screamed in protest, my skin a patchwork of stinging heat and raw pain.Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. Then, like a cruel joke from the universe¡ªor a prize for my reckless theatrics¡ªthe first notification blinked into view before my eyes. // // Enemy Neutralized // Combat Essence Increased // // // Enemy Neutralized // Combat Essence Increased // // // Enemy Neutralized // Combat Essence Increased // // // Enemy Neutralized // Combat Essence¡­ // There were a lot of them. More than I¡¯d hoped for. The death mark had been far better at rallying the horde than I¡¯d intended¡ªso effective it had damned near killed me. Running down the street without a care for how the crimson skull above my head flared had been a mistake. I had barely made it a hundred steps before every shadow had seemingly turned into a¡ªnot-so-living¡ªliving thing. Doors had creaked open. Broken windows had belched bodies into the night. Some lumbering, some crawling, some moving far too quickly for my liking. A single pass through that gauntlet, and the leisurely saunter back I¡¯d hoped for¡ªback to the building we¡¯d prepared¡ªwas no longer an option. A glance over my shoulder had confirmed it: too many shambling dead. Too many to fight. Too many to reason with. And definitely too many to lead in an orderly fashion. The plan, such as it was, quickly fell apart. At the time, I¡¯d been forced to improvise, breaking through windows, kicking down doors, vaulting over burning wreckage¡ªall while the horde clawed at my heels. I lost count of how many times I thought I was done for, only to scramble free by the skin of my teeth. But now, crouched in the muck, my lungs burning and my limbs trembling, eyes following the swarm of notifications lighting up before me, a perverse satisfaction welled in my chest. If I wasn¡¯t careful, I might get addicted to this. "Not too shabby of a plan, was it?" I chuckled, still sprawled in the mud as the sound of slow, uneven steps approached me. Tilting my head, however, relief died in my throat. It wasn¡¯t Mei. It was a man¡ªor what had once been a man¡ªshambling toward me. Half his body was charred, the rest pocked with bite marks and bruises. His slack jaw hung open in a gurgling death rattle, and his distant, unseeing eyes seemed fixed on me. The sound that escaped the Jiangshi¡¯s ruined lips was the kind of guttural groan that belonged in nightmares, the quintessential ¡°Ahrrg!¡± of every zombie flick I¡¯d ever watched. It almost sent me scrambling into another mad dash. But before I could haul myself upright, something slammed into the back of the thing¡¯s head with a sickening crack. It staggered, then dropped face-first into the mud. The next blow, driven with enough force to punch straight through its rotting skull, made sure it stayed there. // // Enemy Neutralized // Combat Essence Increased // "Wrong time to be taking a nap, no?" I didn¡¯t need to look to know it was Mei. Her voice carried that familiar mixture of exasperation and sharp-edged humor, though there was something else layered beneath it. Relief, maybe. Singed, smeared with soot and blood, and visibly winded, she tossed the broken plank aside with a grimace, shaking out her hands as if to rid them of the sensation of bone crunching under wood. Even battered and exhausted, it was unmistakably her. The telltale red skull hovering above her head, flickering now like a dying ember, was a dead giveaway. 00:00:01¡­ 00:00:00¡­ [You are no longer marked for death.] Mei exhaled, a long, shaky breath as the glow above her finally faded. ¡°So?¡± she asked, brushing stray strands of damp hair from her face. ¡°What lunacy do you have planned next, oh fearless shepherd?¡± She was joking, of course. But the way her eyes lingered on mine told me she expected an answer. Something more than a shrug and a smile. ¡°We savor the moment,¡± I coughed, wiping what little mud I could from my front as I weakly got to my feet. If Mei looked like a mess, I probably held the appearance of something dragged through hell and spat back out. I at least felt the part. ¡°Because something tells me this is the last breather we¡¯ll get before the night is over.¡± Mei followed my gaze, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the street. ¡°What?¡± she asked, as sense of restlessness creeping into her voice, ¡°You don¡¯t expect more of those things to be hiding around, do you?¡± To her, it must¡¯ve looked like nothing. A wide, empty street stretching ahead, lit only by the flickering glow of the surrounding ruins. Smoldering timbers, distant embers. Quiet, save for the occasional crackle of fire and the mournful groan of settling wreckage. To me? It was different. The broadness of the street. The lack of debris in the way. The faint, ominous curve of the Ganghe River glinting just ahead, barely visible through the smoke. The whole scene screamed ¡°Boss encounter.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see soon enough,¡± I said, my voice calm despite the knot forming in my stomach. I had no clue what lay waiting around that bend. But something did. Of that, I was certain. Mei raised an eyebrow but didn¡¯t press. Maybe she was tired. Or maybe, like me, she felt it too¡ªthe weight of something hanging just out of reach, something that wanted us to keep moving. So we did. Chapter 10 [¡±Yun¡­¡±] I couldn¡¯t tell if the timer was being unusually generous or if our arrival had somehow been categorized as nonstandard. Either way, when we finally caught sight of them, a comfortable 00:17:11 still lingered on the clock. The moment we got close enough to hear the low murmur of voices, however¡ªthe groan of wood bending against water¡ªa notification shimmered into view: [Nao Chunhua found.] [Beginning scenario¡­] If I¡¯d harbored even the slightest doubt about the source of all this chaos, it vanished alongside the timer. The black ship anchored in the Ganghe¡¯s placid waters practically radiated menace. Its silhouette seemed to scream, ¡°Villains here!¡± Or perhaps more eloquently, ¡°Behold, an evil sect!¡± For something that was probably meant to meld into the night, to slip through shadows like a whisper, it didn¡¯t do a particularly good job once detected. The ship wasn¡¯t large¡ªenough to hold maybe thirty crew, if they packed in tight¡ªbut it carried itself with an air of theatrical menace. Mist clung to its hull like the ghost of some bygone sin, curling around the cages lining its deck. And where the rest of the town burned with the vivid chaos of reds and oranges, its lanterns alone burned with a greenish glow, sickly and wrong, like light dragged up from the bottom of a poisoned well. They might as well have painted a skull and crossbones on the hull and hung a banner declaring their villainy. From where we crouched, sheltered behind the last row of scorched buildings overlooking the bay, I could feel the weight of its presence¡ªa gravity that pulled the eye and tightened the chest. The armored soldiers were there too, more of them than we¡¯d seen back at the pavilion, though no more than fifteen in total. Their armor was spattered with blood, a few plates dented or gouged, but none bore wounds that would explain the ruin smoldering around us. They moved with unnerving purpose, calm and collected, as if they had marched through the burning town without the chaos touching them. And then there was Nao. She knelt in the mud, trembling just enough to be noticed, her head darting this way and that each time one of the soldiers passed close by. They delivered hushed words to a figure standing before her¡ªa man who, by posture alone, could only be their leader. Not that it was easy to tell one soldier from the next. Their helmets were identical, their armor devoid of ornamentation, their movements eerily synchronized. Some reckless part of me itched to creep closer, to slip into the shadows and eavesdrop on whatever secrets passed between them. But I didn¡¯t. If I moved even a hair, they would see us. Of that, I had no doubt. But it wasn¡¯t fear that kept me rooted in place¡ªat least, not entirely. It was something deeper, a weight in my chest and a stillness in my limbs, as if the world itself demanded that I watch. It felt like a cutscene in some cruel game, something scripted and immutable, a moment I had no power to change. Everything stilled, as if having accepted that the scene was set. The leader moved, and that was enough. It wasn¡¯t much¡ªa slight turn of his helmeted head, a shift of his weight¡ªbut it drew every ounce of my attention. All sounds seemed to fade into the distance¡ªeverything but their voices. ¡°Their bodies have yet to be brought before me,¡± he said as if the world itself was at fault for that. His voice was cold and creeping, seeping through the cracks where his armor didn¡¯t quite close. It wasn¡¯t loud, yet it carried, filling the air like smoke. The recognition hit me like whiplash. I knew that voice. I knew the inevitability it carried, the way his words weren¡¯t a command but a statement of fact, as if the universe itself bent to accommodate them. This was the man from the pavilion, the one who had marked us for death. ¡°I-I told you,¡± Nao stammered, her voice tight and sharp as a bowstring ready to snap. ¡°There was something strange about him. He spoke the line you said h-he would. He should be dead¡­¡± ¡°Excuses.¡± The word fell like an axe. I felt it, a pressure that stole the breath from my lungs, that made my heart stutter in my chest. Nao collapsed, clutching at her throat, her fingers clawing against some invisible grip. Then it was gone. She gasped, gulping air in frantic, greedy gulps, her words tumbling out in a rush, wild and broken. ¡°He knew!¡± she cried. ¡°He knew all of this would happen. H-he, he¡­¡± Her voice faltered and died as the man slowly crouched down over her. It was not a quick motion, not a sharp jerk of attention. It was deliberate, unhurried, as though he had all the time in the world. The gleaming black visor was featureless, reflecting only the distant firelight, but it might as well have been the face of death itself. ¡°He knew?¡± the armored man said. His tone was mild, almost curious, but the weight of it carried all the way to where we hid. It wasn¡¯t a question, not really. He leaned closer, his imposing frame towering over Nao as if to blot her out entirely. His face hovered just inches from hers, and she tried¡ªoh, how she tried¡ªto shrink away, to retreat into herself, but there was no retreat to be had. He said something else, low and quiet, too faint for me to catch. I saw her lips move in reply, trembling as she formed words I couldn¡¯t hear. The exchange went on like that for what felt like an eternity. His questions came slowly, deliberately. Her answers tumbled out in desperate, shivering fragments.This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. It was maddening, this silence. Vexing to be so close yet hear nothing but the distant crackle of flames and the faint murmur of their voices. But that silence gave me time¡ªtime to think, to piece together what little I had. ¡°He spoke the line you said h-he would. He should be dead¡­¡± Did they know about Liang¡¯s scripted dialogue? How he was supposed to die shortly after revealing his family¡¯s business secrets? To me, those words had always been the nail in a well-crafted coffin, sealing Lian¡¯s fate. Yet here I was, alive in his body, my corpse conspicuously absent from the scene before me. Corpses, I realized. Not one. Several. Who were the others? Mei? Someone else entirely? There were so many questions, so many loose threads. And then, as if to mock my lack of answers, a notification blinked into view: Story fragment unlocked. Someone tried to murder the Feng Clan¡¯s third son before the Dao of the Divine could even descend upon this world. To unlock a new fate-strand: Survive the Resplendent Harmony Festival. Survive. As if that were the simple part. Then came the rest of them: Objective Completed: Find Nao Chunhua. Mei Faolang has learned of your innocence. Reward: Relationship increased. Mei Faolang will be available as Companion even after the tutorial ends. New Objective: Reach Nao Chunhua Before it¡¯s too late, learn what words the mysterious man whispered to Nao Chunhua. Requirement: Don¡¯t let Nao Chunhua die. Reward: Fate Event "The Truth Behind the Resplendent Harmony Festival" A new timer flickered into existence at the corner of my vision: [00:15:00], but its numbers remained frozen for now. Just like we were. Then the leader of the armored men moved. Unhurriedly, he straightened, his imposing figure silhouetted against the burning remnants of the town. The veiled head of his helmet turned, scanning the scorched ruins and smoldering streets with a deliberate patience that felt far too knowing. He was searching. I could feel it. A sickening churn twisted in my gut as his gaze swept over the burning wreckage. Somehow, I knew he was looking for us. For a moment, as the blank sockets of his helm passed over the shattered wall where Mei and I crouched, I was certain he¡¯d found us. My breath caught, heart hammering against my ribs as I braced for a sharp order to reveal ourselves¡ªor for him to come wading through the ruin toward us. But then, his arm rose, cutting through the night like the shadow of a blade. A sharp, commanding gesture, and two-thirds of the soldiers broke away from the group in perfect synchronicity. They scattered. Moving with purpose, they disappeared down empty streets, vaulting over rubble and slipping through the smoky haze. Like wolves loosed upon a wounded deer, they fanned out, methodical, precise, and swift. I exhaled, trying not to make a sound as my breath left me in a shaking rush. Mei, beside me, had drawn taut as a bowstring, her lips pressed into a pale, bloodless line. Warning! Increased hostile activity detected. Escape no longer available. Warning! Jiangshi sentry mode has been activated. Carelessly engaging the undead will alert their masters. New Objective: Find a way out of H¨¦ Ji¨¥ before you are found. ??:??:?? This timer didn¡¯t even give me an estimate. Whatever relief I¡¯d found when we were not found immediately vanished. We still needed to get out of here before we were found, we needed to reach Nao before whatever fate befell her, and my body still wouldn¡¯t obey my commands. There was still something here for us to see, and as if beckoned by my thought, Nao Chunhua¡¯s voice cut through the smoke and tension. ¡°M-my brother?¡± she cried, her voice cracking where she stared at the back of the armored leader. ¡°You¡­ you promised you would bring him back to me¡­¡± With his arm still raised half-way into the air, something about his ominous frame became unnervingly still. I braced myself. For a second, I was certain he¡¯d spin around and silence her with a single gesture. A flick of his wrist, a surge of that suffocating pressure, and her life would snuff out like a guttering flame. It would¡¯ve been simple. Clean. Perfectly in line with the cold inevitability that clung to this entire scenario like oil to water. But he didn¡¯t. Instead, his raised hand shifted, a new signal. This time, the response didn¡¯t come from the soldiers. Instead, something aboard the black ship shifted. At my first assessment, I¡¯d thought them fixtures¡ªgrim decorations upon an even grimmer ship¡ªthe silhouettes holding those sickly green lanterns. But now, as one of them moved, I realized they were living things. The lantern within the shadow-bound being¡¯s hands swayed lazily, the flames along its edges seeming to dim as it was raised higher. It didn¡¯t behave like any light-source I¡¯d ever seen, and as it swept through the air, a strange, greenish glow cut through the night. And then, from the ramp leading down to the dock, a lone boy staggered into view. He was young¡ªno older than ten. His face was pale, his eyes dull and glassy, and his movements stiff, like a puppet held by strings too loose to control him properly. Nao gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she stumbled onto trembling legs. ¡°Yun?¡± Her voice was filled with something raw and painful, a hope so fragile it sounded like it might shatter. But the boy didn¡¯t respond. He merely stood there, staring blankly at her with eyes that didn¡¯t see, his head tilting slightly as though responding to some silent command. Beside me, Mei¡¯s breath hitched, sharp and quiet. She didn¡¯t need to say anything. I could see it, feel it in the air, in the eerie sway of the lanterns and the dead stillness of the boy. Whatever promise had been made to Nao Chunhua, it had come at a price. And from where I crouched, it looked like she was about to pay for it. ¡°Yun!¡± Nao¡¯s voice cracked the silence like a brittle branch breaking. She scrambled forward, rushing toward the boy with an almost frantic desperation. But the sound that answered her wasn¡¯t a name, nor any recognition of the sister who called to him. It was a guttural snarl, low and hungry, a sound that scraped against the bones of the night. ¡°He¡­ died from disease earlier this spring,¡± Mei murmured. Her voice was quiet, but her words carried the weight of something bitter and unyielding. ¡°Yun!¡± Nao called again, louder this time, her relief so raw it felt like a wound torn open. ¡°It¡¯s me, Nao, your¡ª¡± But she wasn¡¯t his sister. Not anymore. Not to that thing. The boy¡ªif he could still be called that¡ªlurched forward, his movements jerky and unnatural, his head tilted at an odd angle as if his neck had forgotten how to hold itself upright. His eyes were wrong, glassy and unseeing, but brimming with something primal and ravenous. Nao froze mid-step, and for a single, agonizing moment, it seemed as though hope still lingered in her eyes. That was before it lashed out. Its small, pale hands swiped at her, fingers clawed and grasping, and she stumbled backward. As she fell to the ground, the truth finally settled over her. ¡°Yun¡­?¡± Her voice was barely a whisper now, trembling with disbelief. But the thing that had once been her brother didn¡¯t answer. It didn¡¯t even pause. It kept snarling, shambling toward her with relentless intent, its bare feet dragging through the soot-streaked mud. Nao scrambled to get away, but before she could rise, one of the soldiers stepped forward, blocking her retreat. His metal-plated boots struck the ground with a heavy finality, and his shadow loomed over her like a storm cloud. ¡°It¡¯s your brother,¡± their leader said, his voice cold and unfeeling, each word like a blade twisting into the scene. ¡°Savor your reunion.¡± But there was no brother to reunite with. Only a grotesque mockery of his memory. 00:15:00¡­ 00:14:59¡­ Chapter 11 ["A Way Out..."] They didn¡¯t laugh. They didn¡¯t jeer. They simply stood there, silent as the grave, watching with an unnerving stillness as Nao stumbled in panicked circles, trying to keep distance between herself and her flesh-hungry brother. It would have been better if they laughed. Twisted, grim humor, however cruel, would at least have been human. But this? This wasn¡¯t even that. None of them even flinched, unless it was to roughly shove Nao back into the encirclement when she strayed too close to their ranks. They weren¡¯t soldiers; they were something far worse. Perverse scientists, cold and detached, observing their gruesome experiment with morbid curiosity. Beside me, Mei sank to the ground, her hands gripping her knees like they were the only things keeping her anchored. ¡°I can¡¯t watch this¡­¡± she whispered, her voice barely audible. She didn¡¯t suggest charging in, at least. Didn¡¯t try to convince me to do the right thing. She knew as well as I did that we wouldn¡¯t stand a chance. And so, it was up to me to keep watching. Not because I wanted to¡ªgods, no¡ªbut because I had to. Somewhere in this macabre tableau, in the twisting shadow of their cruelty, lay the line. The solution to this grim, grotesque puzzle laid out before me. I just had to find it. 00:14:32¡­ We couldn¡¯t fight them. That was obvious. We''d die within seconds. And running? That wasn¡¯t much better. Not with the rest of them combing the streets like wolves on the scent of fleeing prey. Our current hiding spot, tucked between the rubble of what had once been two buildings, felt safe enough for the moment. But it wouldn¡¯t last. Charred logs and cracked shingles, heaped together in a fragile mess. The remnants of walls and rooftops interlaced with what I tried not to think of as someone¡¯s arm. This narrow alleyway had shelter us for now, but the noose was already tightening. Out in the streets, the Jiangshi had started to move with deliberation, methodically searching through nearby buildings. And each step they took brought them closer, their shuffling gait a grim countdown to discovery. We had to act. To move. To think. And yet, I stayed frozen, eyes fixed on the scene before me, my thoughts a frantic, tangled mess. 00:14:09¡­ The bay area wasn¡¯t much to look at. This town had never been a big one, but it was positioned at an important crossroads of the Ganghe River. A lifeline for trade, maybe even a glimmer of prosperity in better times. A crossroads meant to grow into something more. But dreams of prosperity had burned along with its homes. Now, it was nothing but smoldering ruins, a stage for whatever nightmare we¡¯d stumbled into. A half-built warehouse leaned precariously over the water, its frame charred and skeletal. Crates and barrels were scattered like the toys of an abandoned child, and a wooden crane stretched feebly toward one of two merchant ships still bobbing on the river¡¯s glassy surface. Had they been loading cargo when the black ship slid in through its own sickening mist? Whatever the answer, escape wasn¡¯t there. Not through the bay, not through the flames. And certainly not through the tightening noose of undead. 00:13:26¡­ Our window was shrinking. I could feel it, a faint pressure against my temples, the inevitability of a trap slowly springing shut. More Jiangshi were arriving, stumbling through the smoke like grotesque moths drawn to unseen flames. Their movements were slow but steady, methodical in their search for survivors. Even if we could run through them, we were doomed to alert the soldiers now. Those hooded silhouettes aboard the black ship had started moving with purpose, their green lanterns swinging wildly, their intent unmistakable. Ever since the notification about the Jiangshi¡¯s sentry mode activating, they had been stirring, as though the mindless dead on their own were no longer enough to ensure our demise.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. I briefly considered the river. Swimming away seemed plausible for the span of a heartbeat. But the thought was extinguished just as quickly¡ªflames still danced across the town, casting flickering light over everything. Our silhouettes would be stark and undeniable against the black surface of the water, a pair of moving targets for whoever held those green lanterns. I sighed. Guess I''ll have to take the tutorial''s word for it. Escape is impossible for now¡­ 00:12:54¡­ My gaze returned to the chanting silhouettes upon the ship. They were the ones controlling the Jiangshi. That much was certain. Even if the undead horde were an effective way of overturning a small town, they weren¡¯t much use if they simply groaned and shambled aimlessly until someone happened upon them. And they would be even worse if they turned on their own masters. The logic clicked into place. Weak point detected! Take out the sorcerers to break their control over the Jiangshi. It was the kind of reckless idea that bordered on brilliance. Or idiocy. The two were often indistinguishable. ¡°Say,¡± I whispered, my voice low and deliberate, my eyes still fixed on the faint glow of the notification before me, ¡°How much of their arts do the Emei Sect teach outsiders? Have you learned Shadow-meld yet?¡± ¡°Say,¡± I whispered, my words as quiet as the crackling of embers, my eyes fixed on the screen ahead, ¡°How much of their arts do the Emei Sect teach outsiders? Have you learned Shadow-meld yet?¡± Beside me, Mei stiffened. I could feel the tension radiating off her like heat from the smoldering ruins around us. I expected a sharp reply, a thousand questions spilling out of her at once¡ªaccusations, protests, disbelief. But maybe she understood the gravity of our situation just as well as I did, the narrowing noose we were caught in. Quietly, she nodded. Mei Faolang¡¯s Trust: Threshold reached. Ability unlocked: Shadow-meld. As long as it is sufficiently dark and the character remains more than fifteen feet away, they will be impossible to detect by normal senses. Moving during Shadow-meld will continuously drain the character''s Qi. ¡°Good,¡± I said, barely sparing the notification a glance. It wasn¡¯t telling me anything I didn¡¯t already know. My focus remained on the figures aboard the black ship, their chants thickening the air, their lanterns swaying with sinister intent. ¡°Then I¡¯m going to have to make a request of Miss Ghostbane.¡± If Mei had tensed earlier, she froze at that, the stiffness in her body shifting from wary readiness to something sharper. I didn¡¯t need to look at her to feel the ice in her stare. I understood her. Too well, perhaps. I knew her story better than any person had the right to know. Before Mei Faolang became the shadowy mistress of a brothel outside the Central Plains, she wasn¡¯t some promising disciple of the Emei Sect. She was an urchin, scraping by on Zhuoyang¡¯s less hospitable streets. A girl who had stolen her meals and traded secrets for scraps and lives for shelter, doing whatever she could to survive. Now, the first place she¡¯d ever truly called home was burning around us, the smoke curling into the night like a cruel memory. A character so pitiful you couldn¡¯t help but root for her. But Mei had never enjoyed pity, and her past was a tightly guarded one. ¡°The figures on the ship,¡± I continued, my voice low and deliberate, cutting through the fragile silence before she could interject. A quiet reminder that we were still crouched in the ruins of a burning town, surrounded by restless dead and murderous soldiers. ¡°I need them dead.¡± I could sense the moment she made her decision. Later. If she was going to slice my throat for what I knew, she would do it later. ¡°You want me to,¡± she instead began, her eyes flickering to the ship, its green-glowing lanterns painting the mist with sickly light, ¡°sneak onto that?¡± I nodded. ¡°You¡¯ll only need to take out one of them. The rest should unravel after that. And then we might¡ªmight¡ªhave a chance to get out of here alive.¡± Her silence was long enough to be its own rebuke. When she finally spoke, her words were as sharp as shattered glass. ¡°And what will you be doing while I risk my neck?¡± I allowed myself a small, crooked smile. ¡°Distracting the Jiangshi. Keeping the soldiers busy. Making sure you¡¯re not the only target in this suicidal plan.¡± She didn¡¯t look reassured. If anything, her expression darkened. ¡°You¡¯re insane.¡± ¡°Quite possibly,¡± I admitted. ¡°But we don¡¯t have time to debate my mental state. The clock is ticking, Mei.¡± 00:12:03¡­ She closed her eyes, her breath slow and deliberate. When she opened them again, there was steel behind her gaze. ¡°If I die,¡± she said, ¡°I¡¯m haunting you.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± I replied, though my gaze had already shifted, drawn back to the wooden crane near the docks. Whoever had been operating it really must have been interrupted mid-task. A heavy crate still dangled precariously at the end of its fraying ropes, swaying gently in the ashen air, above one of the merchant ships like the pendulum of a particularly spiteful clock. Maybe I was suicidal. Maybe I was insane. It seemed, once again, I was to play the bait, and not just for a horde of undead this time. Chapter 12 [¡±Flight¡­¡±] My heart nearly stopped several times as I crept through the smoldering wreckage, the ruins of the town closing in around me like a maze of bone and ash. The Jiangshi were all around me, pulling closer with eager groans whenever some burnt out plank cracked or snapped under my heels. They filled the streets, pressed through doorways, crawled over rubble that I couldn¡¯t hope to pass, forcing me to retrace my steps through terrain that felt too open, all the while I could feel their presence draw nearer¡ªthe air thick with the stench of death and burning. Fortunately, even with an invisible hand guiding their actions, it seemed the Jiangshis¡¯ minds remained as dim as their soulless eyes. Even as my attempt at getting some elevation¡ªstepping off against a blackened piece of wall, jumping for a hole in the roof to get away from the encroaching undead¡ªcaused a shingle to crash to the ground, the three shambling figures that eagerly lurched around the corner just ended up in a confused circle around the source of the noise. One of them even manage to let out a moan that sounded strangely annoyed, as if to blame their undead friends for disturbing their peaceful search. None of them thought to look up. I hung there, breathless, suspended from a beam mere feet above their heads. And just as I could feel my grip slipping, my heart doing somersaults in my chest, another noise cut through the stillness¡ªsome other Jianshi having stumbled through a wall, breaking it down to a greater ruckus. The three below me turned, their heads snapping in unison toward the noise, and with hasty shuffles, they moved off to investigate, leaving me with nothing but a still moment and the thick, smoky air to fill the void. I pulled myself up onto the roof, my limbs shaking with the strain. For what it was worth, up here, with the death mark gone and the chaos of the undead below, it seemed I was almost invisible. I realized as much as I took my first step across the roof and the plank beneath me gave way, snapping with a sickening crack. But even as half my leg was left dangling from the ceiling, all that came from it was another few groans and confused shuffling underneath me. The Jiangshi didn¡¯t even pause, too caught up in their erratic movements to notice what was happening right above their heads. As long as I didn¡¯t fall straight through the roof into their waiting arms, I could avoid them. But that was cold comfort when compared to the black ship and its crew. From up here, even the slightest misstep, a back too straight or a silhouette too tall, would expose me to their watchful eyes. Through the burnt-out gaps in the roof and broken shingles, I caught glimpses of the armored figures. They stood motionless, silent witnesses to the grotesque game playing out below. Nao stumbled in a desperate circle, her undead brother shambling after her with a predator''s patience. I didn¡¯t need the timer [00:08:47¡­] to tell that she wouldn¡¯t be able to go on like that for much longer. She was visibly getting winded, her screams for her brother to come to his senses having long since faded into ragged breaths and panicked whimpers. She was slowing, and when she stopped, the game would end. I tore my gaze from the scene, returning my attention to what lay ahead of me. With my feet off the ground, it shouldn¡¯t take me more than a few minutes to circle around to the burnt out warehouse. So long as I didn¡¯t misjudge the strength of a beam or step onto a weakened roof, that was. The hole my foot had punched through the roof was right before me. But as I crouched there, perched on the remnants of a charred joist, a thought struck me. This world had mechanics, rules hidden beneath the surface. I¡¯d seen hints of them already¡ªtimers, quests, notifications. Perhaps I could¡­ use them. I focused, half-believing the effort was futile, and reached out with my mind. For a moment, nothing happened. Then: // Trait Activated: Omniscience. // ¡°That¡¯s¡­ interesting,¡± I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them. It was as if a veil had been pulled back. The world became sharper, more vivid. Every line, every crack in the wood, every faint shimmer of light stood out with startling clarity. I could see, in perfect detail, the stress fractures in the beams beneath my feet, the angles at which they could splinter. The world glowed faintly, gradients of luminescence highlighting paths I hadn¡¯t noticed before. It was a mix of everything the tutorial had already shown me¡ªthe explosion radius from when the arrow shattered the window, and the weak point in the wall that brought the ceiling down on that first lumbering Jiangshi. But now it was everywhere.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The roof, the beams, the crates in the warehouse ahead¡ªit was all laid bare before me, a map of possibilities waiting to be traced. I could see it, the brittle lines that would give way under my feet, the ominous red glows marking places best left untouched. A map unfolded before me, and for a breathless moment, I believed I had the answer. I took a single step forward, and then¡ª It felt like the world ripped me in half. A thousand needles, burning and white-hot, drove into my eyes. My limbs turned to water, and all at once, the clarity I¡¯d held dissolved into agony. // Warning! Insufficient Qi. // // Warning! Insufficient Cultivation Level. // // Omniscience deactivated. // For a long, trembling minute, I lay there on the slanted roof, breath hitching, shivering as I blinked against the tears blurring my vision. ¡°I get it,¡± I wheezed through gritted teeth, voice barely more than a rasp. ¡°I¡­ I won¡¯t try anything silly of my own, Tutorial.¡± The words felt hollow, an attempt to find humor in the cruel lesson. My breaths slowed, evening out, but the sinking feeling in my stomach grew heavier. 00:07:22¡­ Over half the time had slipped away, and I hadn¡¯t even reached the water. Through a crack in the roof beneath me, I glimpsed the shambling undead, still combing through the building. Their groans rose like a sick, discordant melody, and in the distance, Nao¡¯s voice carried, strained and broken, calling out to the thing that had once been her brother. Somewhere out there, Mei was waiting, most likely wondering what in the nine realms was taking me so long. ¡°Damn it all to hell.¡± The words came out raw, a hiss of frustration through clenched teeth. I rubbed the heels of my palms against my eyes, blinking away the last remnants of pain. The colors were gone, the clarity too, but I could still remember what I¡¯d seen. Vaguely. Enough, I hoped, to make it count. With a deep breath, shaking off all the things I didn¡¯t need, I started forward again. The roof betrayed me almost immediately. The sharp crack of splintering wood was deafening, and before I could leap clear, a chunk of the roof gave way behind me, crashing to the ground below with a noise loud enough to wake the dead. Or, worse still, to call them, along with their masters, closer. // Enemy Neutralized. // // Combat Essence Increased. // // Environmental Kill. // // Combat Essence Increased. // // Enemy Neutralized. // // Combat Essence Increased. // // Environmental Kill. // // Combat Essence Increased. // I didn¡¯t have time to marvel at the surreal notifications. The building groaned, swaying beneath my feet and threatening to collapse entirely. The crash would have alerted the soldiers. I couldn¡¯t afford to hesitate. It was do or die. I sprinted forward, each step a gamble. The roof beneath me sagged and creaked, and I leapt over gaps and splintered beams, my hands and knees scraping against jagged edges. Blood streaked behind me, smearing across planks and sharp shingles, but I didn¡¯t stop. My heart pounded in my ears, drowning out the groaning undead and the distant cries of someone screaming¡ªNao? Armored soldiers at my heels? I didn¡¯t pause to think. Adrenaline was my lifeline, spurring me forward even as the world blurred into motion. More tiles snapped and fell beneath my feet, forcing me to move faster, faster still even as I ran doubled over, hoping¡ªagainst all odds¡ªto avoid their eyes. I didn¡¯t even realize where I was headed until it was too late. My last desperate leap carried me off the roof, across the narrow street, and toward the warehouse. For a moment, I hung suspended, airborne over the heads of several Jiangshi shambling the other way. The world seemed to slow, every frantic beat of my heart illuminating a new horror. The soldiers, armored and impassive, remained encircled around Nao, their armor catching faint flickers of the burning town. Her voice was raw, her breath hitching in panicked yells as she kicked her brother away with trembling legs. The Jiangshi were no longer scattered; they had gathered en masse. The streets writhed with them, a grotesque sea of decayed bodies. Their numbers must have been closing in on the high hundreds, sweeping through every alley, clawing into every corner, overturning debris, and digging through shadows as if determined to find the last dregs of life hiding among the ruins. The impact jarred through me as my ribs caught the edge of the warehouse¡¯s unfinished roof. The impact was brutal. My hands scrabbled for purchase, splinters digging into my palms as I scrambled to steady myself. Below, the horde groaned and shuffled, their movements erratic but relentless. In a desperate surge of strength, I managed to kick myself over the edge, only for the roof to betray me in its absence. There was barely anything there, and what little there was snapped under my weight. Gravity betrayed me, and I tumbled into the warehouse with more speed than I¡¯d intended. The impact was brutal. Even as I got my feet underneath me, my knees helplessly buckled, bending reflexively as I pitched forward into a wild, uncontrolled roll. Open crates and charred debris blurred past in the dim chaos of the building¡¯s interior, and every bone in my body felt the rattle of the landing. The taste of blood bloomed sharp on my tongue as Detached PoV flickered, then sputtered out like a dying candle. But there was no time for pain, no room for anything but the raw, primal instincts that flooded my veins. The roll ended with a sickening thud against a half-burned beam, once part of the warehouse¡¯s skeleton. I was on my feet before the thought even registered, scrambling through the ashen ruins with the grace of a wounded animal. By the time I wedged myself behind a stack of charred barrels, pressed tightly against a half-finished, half-burnt wall, heart thundering ribs aching under the weight of my hand, the world finally slowed. No one was following me. Somehow, impossibly, I¡¯d made it into the warehouse unseen. Now, there was just the rest of this hellish night to survive. Chapter 13 [¡±Desperation¡­¡±] I crouched there, my breath coming in shallow, wheezing gasps. Every nerve in my body was a live wire, the edges of my vision swimming with the aftermath of exertion. The part of the plan I¡¯d assumed would be simple¡ªgetting here¡ªhad nearly torn me apart. Without [Detached PoV] to smooth the jagged edges of the moment, the world pressed too close, too real. The weight of what I¡¯d just survived threatened to crush me, a tidal wave of sensation held barely at bay. I clutched onto the adrenaline, my anchor in the storm, knowing that if I let it slip, everything would crash down at once. I sucked in air, sharp and hot, trying to stitch the breaking pieces of myself back together. Through the haze of smoke and ash, I caught the faint groan of the crane, its towering frame swaying like some weary giant. Its silhouette loomed beyond the gaps in the wall, still intact despite the fire that had eaten the town alive. From somewhere beyond it came the rhythmic cluck of water breaking against the dock, the two merchant ships bobbing faintly in the river¡¯s slow current. 00:04:47¡­ I¡¯d made it this far, but I couldn¡¯t afford to waste even a heartbeat. I slipped further between the barrels, emerging on the other side with only the faintest glance over my shoulder to ensure the Jiangshi hadn¡¯t followed me inside. I could hear something thudding against the warehouse¡¯s heavy doors, but for now, they stood firm. So, my eyes flickered towards the black ship. The angle was different, but the scene hadn¡¯t changed: Nao, hemmed in by the armored soldiers, still locked in her desperate dance. Her movements were slower now, her steps more uneven. Time wasn¡¯t on her side¡ªor mine. Reaching her before fate caught up to her felt impossible. But that didn¡¯t mean I wouldn¡¯t try. The plan remained the same: I needed a distraction. A big one. Something loud enough, chaotic enough, to draw all eyes away. But as I watched the Jiangshi continue their relentless tearing through the rubble without so much as a flicker of interest from the soldiers, doubt began to creep in. Would dropping the heavy crate from the crane be enough? Would it even register against the din of destruction? My gaze flicked toward the dock. The merchant ships. The river. Maybe¡­ if I could crash one of them into their ship? The plan wasn¡¯t fully formed¡ªnot even half-formed¡ªbut I didn¡¯t have the luxury of deliberation. I moved. Slipping through a gap in the wall, I skirted the edge of the warehouse, scurrying down to the water¡¯s edge where the first merchant ship lay moored. The river¡¯s current was gentle but steady, flowing in the right direction. If I could just¡ª A crash, sudden and sharp, cut through my thoughts. My head snapped around. The sound of something tipping over, wood splintering and clattering against the ground. My stomach sank. In the dim light, I saw them. A handful of Jiangshi had already shambled into the warehouse grounds, their movements slow but deliberate. They were only some two hundred feet away, separated from me by the brittle skeleton of burnt-out construction. And more were coming, trickling in through the gaps and openings, their lifeless eyes sweeping in my direction. There were no roofs to escape across here, no high vantage point to leap to safety. And even if there had been, I couldn¡¯t leave. This place had to be the key to getting out of this night alive. It had to. Caring little for how my options dwindled by the second, my gaze snapped back to the ship moored ahead of me. There was no time for thinking¡ªonly action. I lunged toward the heavy knot securing the ship in place, tearing at it with trembling hands. The fibers bit back, stubborn and unyielding. Whoever had tied this knot was an artist of the trade, the sort who might laugh at my fumbling attempts to undo their work. My fingers were soon raw and slick with blood, but the knot didn¡¯t budge an inch. If I only had a knife... No. Even with one, the ropes were as thick as my wrist. It would¡¯ve taken time I didn¡¯t have to saw through them. Desperation dragged my gaze upward, to the crate dangling overhead from the crane. Its rope, made of the same maddeningly pristine material as the ship¡¯s mooring, swayed slightly in the smoky wind. How the hell had these survived when everything else had burned to cinders? It didn¡¯t make sense. Nothing about this place did. Maybe I¡¯d missed something earlier¡ªa clue, a chance to arm myself, some indication that I should have brought along a piece of fire or steel. Or¡ª My eyes darted back across the warehouse, scanning the debris. That¡¯s when I saw them again¡ªthe barrels. They were stacked haphazardly near the edge of the dock, clustered around one of the recently opened crates, positioned almost deliberately beneath the crane¡¯s towering frame. A sting of recognition hit me. I¡¯d seen these barrels before, I just hadn¡¯t made the connection as I stumbled in here, halfway out of my wit. But now...The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. The ship¡¯s cargo. I knew what they were. Not that I had long to think about it. Dark silhouettes were already fanning out ahead of me, stumbling into crates and lurching around corners, their groans drawing closer with every shuddering breath I took. I ducked behind one of the very barrels I¡¯d nearly blown myself to smithereens with earlier that night, my back pressed hard against the cool, slick surface. The timer was still ticking. 00:03:13¡­ Somehow, these oil-filled barrels had survived the inferno ripping through the town. I had no time to question my fortune or curse the strange durability of this shipment. What I needed was a way to ignite them. My thoughts spun like a whirlwind, wild and frantic, grasping at anything that might serve as a solution. And for some reason, the first idea that came to me was also the most reckless. Fire Palm. It was a Hail Mary, but it was better than nothing. I spun around, planting my feet on the ashen ground as if I actually had the balance and poise of a seasoned martial artist. I focused, or at least I thought I did, trying to summon what I imagined Qi might feel like¡ªa circulation of energy, a gathering of will. My palm shot forward, aiming for the barrel. Nothing happened. Not just nothing, either. A cascade of messages flashed across my vision, each one more mocking than the last: // Warning! Insufficient Qi // // Warning! High-level arts attempted while still in foundational stage // // Warning! Spiritual attunement does not match attempted art // // Warning! Martial body unable to withstand attempted art. Successful execution might lead to permanent injury // // Warning! Incorrect¡­ // I got the gist of it. It¡¯d been a foolish attempt. I stood there for a heartbeat too long, staring dumbfounded at the unscathed barrel as if it might offer me an explanation or, better yet, an apology. Meanwhile, the groaning grew louder. The undead had fully infiltrated the warehouse now, their shadows stretching long across the debris-strewn floor. Long story short, I¡¯d just tried to summon fire from my bare hands, and all I¡¯d gotten was a lecture from the universe about how woefully unqualified I was. Long story short, I was in the middle of a burning town, surrounded by oil-filled barrels, and I couldn¡¯t ignite a single one of them. This was fucking ridiculous. My jackhammering heart wasn¡¯t helping keep my thoughts clear. Each thud seemed to echo louder than the groans of the Jiangshi, the shambling steps that steadily drew closer. Panic clawed at the edges of my mind, and my first thought¡ªa fleeting, desperate thought¡ªwas to jump into the water and hope, against all odds, that I could actually swim away from this nightmare. But the odds of that were slim. And it would mean abandoning Mei. My second thought was twice as reckless, and possibly twice as suicidal, but it was all I had. With a deep breath, I scanned the approaching Jianshi, still separated from me by a wall of crates and burnt-out beams. I had, by my best estimate, thirty seconds before they¡¯d find me. Precious seconds I couldn¡¯t afford to waste. With no care for grace or elegance, I threw my weight against the charred barrel, clawing and elbowing at the lid to crack it open. My hands slipped and skidded over the surface, every ounce of effort feeling like it drained the last reserves of my strength. Even if the inferno that¡¯d torn through here hadn¡¯t reached the barrel¡¯s contents, it¡¯d least weakened the wood. The lid cracked, and as I finally managed to tip the barrel, the thick, reeking oil began pooling at my feet. I didn¡¯t stop to celebrate. I didn¡¯t even think. I pulled off the sheer robes that had protected my modesty thus far. I couldn¡¯t bring myself to be embarrassed. Not when I was busy soaking the cloth in the spreading oil, hands trembling with urgency. Fifteen seconds. Gone in an instant. I could now practically smell the Jianshi just a few dozen steps away from me. My eyes darted across the wreckage, searching for a flicker of flame, a spark, anything. This place had burned down less than an hour ago. There had to be something. The groans grew louder. A few undead were already shuffling over the barrels I¡¯d hidden behind just moments before. Then I saw it¡ªa faint glow, embers clinging stubbornly to one of the warehouse¡¯s blackened beams as the breeze picked up. My feet were moving before I even realized it, carrying me to the source. I dropped to my knees, blowing on the embers with a desperate ferocity, pressing the oil-soaked cloth against them like an offering. A prayer. A curse. A single ragged breath. And then, alongside the snarls and hurried shambles of the undead closing in, came a notification: // Warning! // Hostile activity detected. You have been discovered¡­ // But I didn¡¯t care. Even as the snarls rose in a maddened, eager cacophony, my world narrowed to the embers, to the fire, to the frantic rhythm of my breath. A final heaving exhale¡ªand the cloth caught. Fire surged, bright and violent. It roared up the length of the fabric, hungrily devouring the oil. And alongside it, my entire arm. The pain hit like a hammer. No, like a storm. I¡¯d spilled boiling oil on myself once working in the kitchen¡ªa modest splash that took months to heal¡ªbut this? This was ten times worse, searing agony ripping through every nerve. I screamed. A sound that tore from my throat, raw and primal. And still, I ran. The swarm surged behind me, a tide of bodies, their snarls rising like a wave. From the corner of my eye, I could sense them¡ªfive armored heads snapping toward me, their postures sharpening. I didn¡¯t stop. I couldn¡¯t. I sprinted toward the crane where the open barrel lay, still trickling oil in uneven streams across the ground. I didn¡¯t think. Didn¡¯t hesitate. With a final, pained roar, I flung the flaming bundle that had once been my robe¡ªand was now the inferno consuming my arm¡ªtoward the spreading trail of oil. Time stuttered. A single breathless heartbeat stretched into eternity. And then the world detonated. The explosion shattered the night, a deafening roar that sent heat and shrapnel tearing through the air. Notifications flooded my vision, a cascade of fluttering words that blurred into meaninglessness. All I knew was the force. The shock. The pain. The world flipped violently, spinning me end over end as I was hurled through the air. Over the rocking hull of a merchant ship, its timbers groaning in the wake of the explosion. Toward the black, waiting water of the river below. Chapter 14 [¡±Crash Course¡­¡±] // Warning! Critical damage sustained // Enemy Neutralized Combat Essence Increased // Enemy Neutralized Combat Essence Increased // Warning! Damage Threshold Exceeded // Enemy Neutralized Combat Essence Increased // Enemy Neutralized Combat Essence Increased... // Warning! Tutorial Assistance Disabled... // The last glowing notifications faded into nothingness as I hit the river¡¯s surface like a stone. The cold bit into me, a sharp counterpoint to the fire that still clawed at my skin, and the echoes of the explosion in my ears turned the world into a distant, high-pitched whine. It was disorienting, a cacophony reduced to a single piercing note, underscored by the dull throb of a brain rattled too hard against the inside of my skull. Pain. Crushing, searing, excruciating pain. It was everywhere, sharp and raw where my skin had been flayed by heat and shrapnel, dull and throbbing where bruises had taken root in the deep parts of me. My chest heaved as I tried to instinctively draw breath, but the river answered with icy water that clawed into my lungs, making me gag and spasm in its grip. I coughed, choked, tried again. The river cared little for my struggles. It churned and dragged at me, indifferent to up or down, to life or death. The night¡¯s chaos seeped into my mind, unraveling the last threads of clarity. My arms flailed, hands clawing through the water as though I could climb it like a ladder. I tried to rise, to break through a surface I couldn¡¯t see, but it was hopeless. Darkness pressed in, broken only by the ghostly afterimage of the explosion, its flickering light etched onto the backs of my eyelids. There was no up, no down, no frame of reference at all¡ªonly the crushing weight of the river. My chest burned, and my body betrayed me, forcing another desperate attempt to breathe. Water rushed into my lungs, cold and merciless, sending shockwaves of panic through my already fraying mind, clawing at my thoughts with sharp, jagged edges. This was it. Death, certain and inescapable, coming for me yet again. I could feel the river pull me deeper, the current wrapping itself around my chest like iron bands. My vision blurred, my lungs screamed, and my thoughts unraveled like threads caught in a gale. Then, amidst the chaos, I felt it¡ªsoft as a sigh, sharp as a blade. The notion of someone clicking their tongue, deep in the recesses of my mind. ¡°Moron,¡± said a voice, dry and faintly amused, creeping into my mind like a lazy breeze. Liang Feng. His voice, smooth and unimpressed, crept through the tangled delirium of my thoughts. "I didn¡¯t give you this body to die with," he said, the words curling lazily, like smoke. "I merely needed to get out of a sticky situation..." I could almost see him there in the abyss ahead of me. His lips curved in an exasperated sneer, his eyes rolling upward in theatrical disdain. ¡°You leave me no choice,¡± he said, the sound weighted with all the drama of a man profoundly inconvenienced. Then came the glow. Dim and faint, but enough to cut through the dark waters. A screen flickered into existence before my eyes, alien and familiar all at once. // Soul-merge initiated. Accept/Decline // ¡°Accept,¡± Liang said, his tone so unbearably smug that it almost made me want to refuse out of spite. ¡°Unless you really want to die. Even like this, they¡¯ll remember me more fondly than you, Victor Moore.¡± The mocking lilt of his voice twisted through my mind, so smugly certain of my choice. So hauntingly irritating it made me want to twist his neck. But pride has its limits, and mine wasn¡¯t worth dying for. Not compared to everything else I still had to lose. Not compared to the abyss pressing in all around me. [Soul-merge Accepted] It felt like being struck by something vast and heavy, not against my body, but against the very idea of me. I was shoved backward, not in flesh but in spirit, torn from the seat of myself. From Liang Feng¡¯s body. I was a bystander. A ghost. An observer floating helplessly above as he surged into action, his movements sharp and deliberate in ways I¡¯d never managed. His legs kicked, strong and sure, cutting through the water with a power that felt utterly foreign¡ªmine, but not mine. The world hit me all at once, clearer now without the haze of pain and panic clouding my senses. The skies burned with a ferocity that seemed almost unreal, as though the heavens themselves had been set ablaze. Flames clawed upward from the shattered warehouse, their greedy light illuminating the river in furious reds and oranges. Liang broke the surface with a gasp, and no more than a handful of seconds could have passed since I fell into the water. The warehouse continued to erupt in violent bursts of oil-fed fire, each explosion punching the night sky with fresh plumes of smoke and heat. The air reeked of burning chemicals and charred wood, thick and acrid on the tongue, a taste that felt like it might cling to me forever. The noise was relentless¡ªa thunderous cacophony of fire and shattering debris, overlaid with the tumultuous roar of the river. Waves slapped against Liang¡¯s body, rocking him with the force of the merchant ships struggling against the explosion¡¯s shockwaves. ¡°Damn it,¡± Liang hissed, his voice taut with irritation as he coughed up the water I¡¯d so graciously inhaled for him. ¡°You really made a mess of my body.¡±Stolen novel; please report. It was strange to hear his words without feeling his breath, to see his grimace without wearing it. Detached as I was, the sarcasm still stung. But even more than that, it grated. Because he wasn¡¯t wrong. Not that Liang had much time to dwell on it. Another explosion reverberated through the air, followed by the groan of tortured wood and metal. A sharp, resounding crack echoed across the water as the crane gave way, its heavy beams snapping under the strain. The whole thing tilted riverward, its dangling crate pulling it down like an executioner¡¯s blade. Liang barely had a moment to draw a sharp breath before he was forced to dive beneath the surface. The crane came down like a hammer, splitting the nearest merchant ship clean in two. Even underwater, the chaos was undeniable. Barrels and shattered crates plunged past, streaking through the murky depths, the fragmented remains of the ship tumbling and scattering like leaves in a storm. Some debris sizzled violently as it sank, leaving ghostly trails of bubbles and steam that hissed just inches from Liang¡¯s face. Yet, with an instinct I couldn¡¯t claim as my own, he twisted and surged through the current, evading the deadly rain with a grace that bordered on miraculous. When he finally broke the surface, coughing and sputtering, his hands latched onto a floating crate. It bobbed under his weight, offering a tenuous reprieve. ¡°I¡¯ll give it to you, though,¡± Liang said between wheezing breaths, his lips curling into a faint, maddening grin. ¡°You¡¯re good at the destruction part. You even managed to buy us a few moments away from those pesky observers.¡± His eyes swept the docks, and the grin spread wider, laughter bubbling up as he took in the scene. Burning Jiangshi stumbled over one another, some shrieking as they toppled into the river, others collapsing into smoldering piles on the dock. Flames licked the night, painting the chaos in hues of flickering gold and crimson. ¡°So this is the potential of Liang Feng they all feared?¡± he said, almost to himself, his voice threaded with delight. ¡°I like it.¡± His laughter rang out, sharp and wild, but I wasn¡¯t paying him any mind. My attention was fixed on the second merchant ship, which had been knocked loose in the mayhem. Its hulking form careened toward us, carried on the river¡¯s current and the force of the explosions. In my mind, I screamed a warning, every ounce of urgency I had. But Liang? He just rolled his eyes. ¡°Oh, please,¡± he said, as if the looming shadow of the ship bearing down on us was nothing more than an inconvenience. ¡°Do you think I¡¯d let that be what kills us?¡± The vessel barreled closer, a wall of wood and iron threatening to crush us, and yet Liang hardly moved. Just as the ship surged past, its bulk nearly skimming us, he reached out with a languid confidence, fingers closing around a rope dangling from a splintered mast. He caught it as if he¡¯d known its path before the rope itself did. A moment later, we were yanked into motion, the river¡¯s current pulling us along in the ship¡¯s chaotic wake. Waves slapped against us, threatening to drag us under, but Liang was already climbing. For someone who didn¡¯t know a single martial art, he moved with startling strength and ease. His muscles tensed and shifted as he hauled himself up the rope, hand over hand, with a focus that left no room for hesitation. In no time, he vaulted over the railing of the ship, landing deftly on the deck of the low-riding vessel. I¡¯d expected some triumphant display or a moment of composed dignity. Instead, Liang rose stark naked, his hair a damp mess that he brushed back with a lazy hand, his chest glinting faintly with the golden chain that had somehow survived the chaos. He stood there, silhouetted against the burning remains of the town, looking for all the world like a man surveying his kingdom. The smirk tugging at his lips was maddening. ¡°You still have a lot to learn about what it means to be Liang Feng,¡± he said, his voice full of insufferable smugness. Then, as his gaze swept over the devastation, his expression soured. There was a near inaudible wince, and the smirk twisted into a grimace of annoyance. ¡°I¡¯ll leave the rest of this mess for you to figure out, though. The state you¡¯ve left my body in is starting to piss me off¡­¡± There was no warning, no transition. It was like a hook threaded through my very being, yanking me violently back into the skin of Liang Feng. The pain hit me all at once, no longer dulled by his defiance or sheer force of will. It wasn¡¯t just pain¡ªit was a tidal wave of agony that crushed every thought under its weight. Oh, it was all still there, alright. The absolute lunatic that was Liang had just been ignoring it. Now it surged through me, forcing me to double over, coughing and wheezing against the rocking deck of the merchant ship. Tears burned in my eyes, and the world swayed¡ªnot just from the river¡¯s restless currents but from the fractured state of my mind. Thoughts that had been sharp seconds ago now tumbled uselessly, like broken glass rattling in my skull. Everything had become too visceral once more. The searing ache in my ribs, an arm that still smoked and sizzled, and the exhaustion that settled into every fiber of this borrowed body, made that abundantly clear. Tears stung my eyes, blurring the fiery glow of the town ahead of us. The ship swayed beneath me, but the world seemed to tilt even more, as though my mind couldn¡¯t decide what was real and what wasn¡¯t. And through it all, Liang¡¯s voice drifted through the fog, maddeningly casual. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t lie around like a wuss for too long.¡± I could practically feel the stretch of his yawn behind the words. ¡°Annoying as it is to admit, the wager you placed in the brat paid off.¡± Blinking back tears, I raised my gaze just enough to see the new chaos unfurling across the ruined town. Mei. She must¡¯ve reached one of the hooded, lantern-swinging sorcerers while I was busy drowning. Now, any Jiangshi that hadn¡¯t been obliterated by the explosions was running rampant. Without the unifying force of a single controlling mind, they¡¯d devolved into a ravenous swarm, turning on the nearest targets. And those targets? Their own masters. Armored soldiers, once so commanding, were now barely holding against the tide of undead fury. The Jiangshi overwhelmed them, teeth and claws against steel and discipline, and the latter was losing. It was as if the entire town had risen in death to drag its killers down with it. But it wasn¡¯t as satisfying as it should¡¯ve been to watch. My breath hitched as I saw her¡ªNao, pinned amidst the chaos. Her brother tore into her with feral abandon, his undead strength far beyond what she could fend off. The armored soldiers were too busy fending for their own lives to even notice. Even so, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if it was all real. If this was all just a grand illusion I was watching. There was no notification. No warning that the objective had failed. Even the timer was gone. Through the racing pulse of my heartbeat¡ªrefusing to accept that I¡¯d failed a quest so easily¡ªLiang¡¯s voice returned, an irritating hum in the back of my mind. ¡°You should be glad those things disappeared before they made you actually kill yourself,¡± he said, sounding almost bored. ¡°But they will return, eventually¡ªtelling you how horribly you failed in due time¡ªbut if I were you, I¡¯d be more worried about your ¡®distraction¡¯ working a little too well.¡± His words barely registered as I stared at the scene ahead. The carnage. The fire. Nao¡¯s last defiant cry drowned out by the chaos. I¡­ I failed¡­ Liang sighed, a theatrical thing that made me grit my teeth. ¡°You did intend to ram this merchant ship straight into the black vessel, did you not?¡± The sheer urgency of the words snapped me back to the present. My head whipped around just in time to see it¡ªlooming, far closer than I¡¯d realized. The black ship, a hulking shadow against the firelit night. A sturdy wall for the merchant ship to crash into. For one eternal moment, I could see it all too clearly. I¡¯d let Nao die, but right now, I had far more pressing matters to worry about. My own damned survival being on top of the list. I had barely a second to brace. The force was catastrophic, the merchant ship crumpling with a hull-breaking groan. Wood splintered. Metal shrieked. The entire deck buckled beneath me, throwing me forward, onto my feet¡ªstumbling into a desperate run before I even realized what was happening. Chapter 15 [¡±What Goes Up¡­¡±] It wasn¡¯t until I saw her that I realized where I was running. Mei. Locked in battle. Or rather, locked in the grotesque mockery of battle, one sorcerer¡¯s lifeless body still jerking on its feet, a dagger buried to the hilt in its neck. Their companions had turned the corpse into a puppet, moving it with deft, malevolent precision. And then, if only for a heartbeat, the scene froze under the weight of the merchant ship¡¯s impact with their black vessel. It was a brief pause, suspended in time, the violence of the collision echoing in the gut of the ship. Everything tilted and rocked. One of the still living sorcerers managed to cling to a splintering railing, another fell, barely breaking their own fall against a groaning cage. The third, the marionetted corpse Mei had been fighting, crumpled as if its strings had been cut, tumbling down into the river¡¯s black waters with a distant splash. Not that Mei was faring much better because of it. She was barely holding on to heavy coffin that had slid halfway across the deck, its iron reinforcements scraping against the wood with a wailing screech. Everything was groaning and cracking. The entire ship had nearly rolled over in the river¡¯s grasp, and I¡ªwell, I had just slammed the bow of the merchant ship into its side, cracking the hull wide open. Both vessels now ground against each other, locked together now as the current pulled them further downstream. The Jiangshi that had been scrambling up the gangplank, desperate to join the fray, had now either tumbled into the river, dragged under by the churning water, or clung mindlessly to its side. I only had an instant to take it all in before the merchant vessel heaved beneath me. Something deep in its bones caught, something it shouldn¡¯t have. Too much momentum had been stolen by the black vessel, leaving me no time to think as the deck buckled sharply upward. I didn¡¯t so much jump as let the motion hurl me into the air. For a single breath, I was weightless, suspended against the chaos like a painting. Then instinct¡ªfoolish, reckless instinct¡ªtook over. I twisted mid-air, locking eyes on one of the hooded figures, the one clinging precariously to the cracked railing. There wasn¡¯t much of a decision to make, not really. My trajectory was already set. So I leaned into it, tucking and bracing for impact. I slammed into the figure with all the force I could muster, a collision of limbs and curses as we tumbled across the deck. The wood beneath us tilted violently, the entire ship keening in protest as the river claimed its balance second by second. The stench hit me first¡ªa sour, putrid miasma baked into the black fabric of their robes. It clawed at my throat, my lungs, filling me with the rot of things long dead. Then I caught a glimpse of their face¡ªor what passed for a face. Sickly eyes glared from deep within the shadow of the hood, skin pallid and slack, the color of spoiled milk left too long in the sun. They hissed something sharp and venomous, but whatever they meant to say was cut short as I drove their back into the rusted bars of a cage, the impact ringing like a bell. The deck beneath us was less a floor now and more a slope, tilting and groaning as the river claimed more and more of its prize. I didn¡¯t pause to consider the angle or the danger¡ªor the look of hate etched on their deathly features. My fist acted first, driven by instinct. I¡¯d never punched anyone before. Not properly. I¡¯d imagined it, of course, as boys often do. But reality had none of the satisfaction I¡¯d envisioned. The sensation was grotesque¡ªmushy, wet, and strangely yielding, like striking a sack of spoiled fruit. Something cracked beneath my knuckles, and I knew it wasn¡¯t wood. There was blood, though whether it was mine or theirs I couldn¡¯t tell. I didn¡¯t have time for a second punch. The deck tilted further, groaning in protest as the cage beneath us tore free of its moorings with a sound like splintering bones. It tilted, wrenched loose by gravity, and together we plunged into the dark waters below. The river was everywhere at once, crushing, freezing, merciless. Its cold fingers wrapped around me, pulling me under, dragging me back into its suffocating depths. Only this time, I wasn¡¯t alone. Even as the light above dimmed, stolen by the surging water, the sorcerer¡¯s eyes burned. A pale, greenish glow seared through the darkness, venomous and unrelenting. It was as if their hatred for me could keep them alight, a lantern carried deep into the belly of the river. Then came the jab¡ªa sharp thrust of their staff into my side. It shouldn¡¯t have been much. The water dulled the force of the blow. But the pain that followed was electric, searing through me as if I¡¯d been run through with molten iron. Whatever power lingered in that staff, it bit with a hunger steel never could. My body convulsed, air erupting from my lungs in a stream of panicked bubbles. And still, those glowing eyes bore into me, filled with curses I couldn¡¯t hear but felt all the same. My fingers found the haft of the staff before they could pull it free, my grip a vise fueled by panic and fury. I used it to haul myself forward, closing the distance between us in the dark, surging water. Their hands tightened at the other end, unrelenting, but I had leverage now. With startling speed, my foot lashed out, finding the midpoint of their glowing eyes even in the river¡¯s black embrace. The impact was sickening¡ªsoft and brittle at the same time. Something cracked beneath my heel, and though I couldn¡¯t hear it, I felt their scream. The stream of bubbles erupting from their mouth surged around me, frantic and broken.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Their grip on the staff loosened, and I didn¡¯t wait to see the end of them. Kicking upward, the weight of the river fought to drag me back, but I broke the surface, gasping for air as the sorcerer vanished into the dark depths below. The world above was chaos. Firelight reflected off the churning waves, and the acrid smoke of burning wood and oil clung to the air. The river had become a graveyard of splinters and shattered vessels. I grabbed the first thing within reach¡ªthe railing of a black deck that jutted nearly vertical from the water¡¯s surface. The merchant ship¡¯s impact had cracked the hull wide open, leaving the sorcerer¡¯s vessel tilted precariously, half-sunken but not yet gone. Around me, whatever Jiangshi had managed to scramble aboard tumbled from the listing deck like snarling, gurgling stones, their undead hands clawing at the water as they were pulled under. Instinct screamed at me to get out of there, to climb, to leave the water behind before one caught me by accident. My arms hooked around the railing, the lantern-staff still clutched in my grasp. Some other instinct¡ªmore cunning and less panicked¡ªtold me to hold onto it. Letting go of my only weapon seemed a poor idea, and I was starting to trust that voice more and more. I¡¯d barely managed to haul my right leg over the edge, the cold sting of air rushing into my lungs as I coughed up whatever gallon of water I¡¯d swallowed. And then, somewhere above me, a thunderous crash shattered my brief struggle, a noise so massive it made the very air tremble. Though I never saw the blow that ripped the merchant vessel free from the jagged hole in the black ship¡¯s hull, I felt it. The aftermath was a shockwave, an invisible force that ripped through the boat like the snap of a taut string. It was like a see-saw, the balance shattered. The ship pitched violently, jerking to the other side, throwing me so far up the incline I was nearly thirty feet above the river¡¯s surface before I knew it. The world spun. And then, gravity did what it always does. The drop was brutal. I felt it in every bone, every joint, as if the ship itself had decided to punish me for having the audacity to hold on to it. The precious air I¡¯d stolen was expelled from my lungs with a gasp as I slammed into the deck, still clutching the lantern-staff like a lifeline as I rolled across the dark planks. I got a weak knee beneath me, chipping for breath as the black ship settled into something vaguely resembling equilibrium. In the moments that followed, all I knew was that a strange stillness seemed to settle over the world. The tumult of the river, the crash of splintering wood, the clamor of death¡ªit all receded, leaving only the whisper of the wind and the faint groan of tortured timbers. I blinked the haze from my eyes, my senses slowly knitting themselves back together, and as I raised my pounding head, a new scene unfolded before me, as if I¡¯d stepped into a different kind of nightmare. The metal cages that had once lined the deck, their bars slick with rust and blood, were now mostly gone¡ªthrown overboard or destroyed in the chaos. A few remained, their twisted frames jutting out from the dark planks like the remains of some twisted, forgotten thing. The deck was scarred with a deep, jagged crack where the merchant ship had torn into the hull of the black vessel. The hole gaped wide, its edges still raw and bleeding seawater, steadily pulling the ship down into the river¡¯s maw with a violence all its own. But that wasn¡¯t my concern¡ªnot yet. Six of us stood on this dying deck. One was me, winded, aching, my body still screaming with the memory of impact and cold. I clung to the lantern-staff, unsure how to wield it, but certain I would need this lone weapon of mine if I were to survive whatever came next. Another was Mei, her face set in grim determination, balancing precariously atop one of the few cages that hadn¡¯t been ripped free during the violent rocking. The third figure was the remaining sorcerer, their face a mask of hatred, their eyes burning with an intensity that could have set the world alight. They were no longer just an enemy; they were a living flame, stoking the fire of my own fury. And the remaining three? Soldiers, clad in black armor, their visors dark and empty, their forms as unfeeling as the ship¡¯s hull. They stood like statues, unmoving, watching us with that eerie silence of death itself. In their empty stares, I saw nothing but certain doom, the weight of inevitability pressing down on my chest. There was no escape. No hope. The world had already decided our fate. And then, deep within the bowels of the ship, something stirred. I felt it first¡ªa subtle shift, a tremor in the bones of the black vessel. The balance of the ship seemed to change, as if something vast and terrible had awakened beneath us. And before any of us could react, a massive, rotting hand reached up from the jagged wound in the ship¡¯s side. It was a grotesque thing, its fingers thick with decay, joints too large, too disjointed, as though it had never meant to be. The very air seemed to recoil from it. Without warning, one of the armored soldiers was yanked from her feet, her body swept up with a speed that defied reason. The fingers curled around her like a child¡¯s hand grasping a doll¡ªeffortless, absolute. She didn¡¯t even have time to scream before she was pulled under, swallowed by the gaping wound in the ship¡¯s side. All that remained was silence¡ªa thick, suffocating silence, like the world itself had held its breath. It had happened so fast, so violently, that my mind barely had time to grasp it. But even so, the image of that monstrous, decaying hand, its rotting flesh stitched together in a grotesque parody of life, stayed with me. It burned itself into my memory, a brand I couldn¡¯t escape. If death hadn¡¯t become so familiar by now, if it hadn¡¯t been a constant companion, maybe the dread that followed that thing¡¯s grasp would have taken hold of me. But it didn¡¯t. The moment passed the nearest of the soldiers snapped his head toward the sorcerer, his voice cold and sharp as the frost of a mountain morning. ¡°Control that thing!¡± The command was a whip-crack, and the sorcerer seemed to flinch, spinning their staff with a swift, practiced motion. The third soldier moved as well, rushing across the battered deck, coming straight for me. But I was already on my feet, twirling my own staff with lazy grace. Or maybe it was Liang¡ªhard to say, the lines between us had blurred again. All I knew was that, before the third soldier could even reach the deck''s midpoint, the planks at his feet exploded in a rain of splinters and shattering wood. That same massive, rotting hand shot through the deck for a second time, like some monstrous killer-whale breaching to claim their prey. It took the soldier before I even had a chance to register what had happened. One moment, there, moving with deadly precision, and the next, gone. Nothing but the echoes of his presence as the ship¡¯s dark interiors swallowed him whole. My heart raced in my chest, a war drum crashing with every beat. But even so, the words that slipped from my lips carried an eerie confidence, ¡°I can buy you a few seconds at most,¡± Liang Feng said. ¡°Don¡¯t waste them.¡± ¡°And what the hell am I supposed to do?¡± I wanted to yell, but the armored leader was already charging toward us, his movements as swift and deadly as any predator¡¯s. In that moment, it didn¡¯t matter that my notifications were broken. I could feel them, as sure as if they were still flashing before my eyes. A simple message: [Boss Battle: Begin!] Chapter 16 Through the maelstrom of my thoughts, the world narrowed to a single impression: an armored figure, surging toward me like an arrow freed from its bowstring. In a few swift steps, he¡¯d lurched across the entirety of the broken deck, his every movement a blur to my eyes. Yet, before he could fully reach me, my body¡ªno, Liang¡ªmoved ahead of my thoughts. He stepped forward, the staff in our hands swinging in a wide, lazy arc. It wasn¡¯t the clever feint of a seasoned fighter, nor was it the desperate lunge of an amateur. It was something in-between, a gesture of mockery wrapped around something dangerously calculating. The action of someone who¡¯d already foreseen the outcome. There was no titanic hand bursting from the deck this time, but as the armored soldier slipped beneath the swing with ease, Liang''s motion shifted as well, fluid as water. The gauntleted fist, meant for our chest, missed its mark by inches. Instead, it tore across our exposed ribs, ripping through flesh with startling ease. Pain flared hot and immediate, a sharp counterpoint to the cold water still glistening across my skin. ¡°Bastard,¡± Liang hissed under his breath, but he was already moving. No, I was moving¡ªour steps blurring together. I didn¡¯t stop to think; thinking would come later, if I lived long enough to regret this night. My feet, driven by instinct, carried me across the deck, toward a jagged, gaping wound in the ship¡¯s hull. Liang had bought me the promised second, and I wouldn¡¯t waste it. My plan was the same as it had been all night: if a hole opened up before me, I would jump through it. "Duck," came Liang''s voice, sharp and urgent. Without a second thought, I obeyed, throwing myself across the slick planks. Something passed just a breath too close, the air stirring as it whizzed past my ear. My hair fluttered against the wind''s sharp bite. But before I could even begin to decipher its death-laden whisper, the shattered deck swallowed me whole. I let myself plunge into darkness. The impact as I hit the wooden floor below was sharp and cold, and the accompanying splash was just a big enough to keep my bones from rattling. Water already pooled several feet deep where the river forced its way through a breached hull, but it was impossible to tell exactly how bad it was in the eerie light. The sound of my landing echoed hollowly, and for the first time in what felt like hours, everything slowed¡ªjust long enough for me to realize I was truly inside the belly of the beast. The night air, acrid and thick with smoke, had been replace by the suffocating stench of death, clinging to each breath I sucked into my straining lungs. But it wasn¡¯t just the smell or the dark. There was something in the dark. Something ominous. Something massive. I could feel it, the weight of its presence pressing against me like the heavy, expectant silence before a storm. The ship itself seemed to shudder as it moved, a slow, deliberate motion that sent a splash and clatter echoing through the chamber. Something hit the water¡ªa greave, still attached to a half-chewed piece of armor, the implication of which I tried not to linger on. I strained my eyes, searching for it. The faint light that seeped in through broken planks was barely enough to pierce the gloom. Shadows swam together, indistinct shapes that might have been crates, chains, or bones. And then, foolishly, I raised the lantern-staff. The glow it emitted felt small and fragile against the yawning dark, but it was enough. Enough to show me my mistake. It wasn¡¯t that the thing was hidden in the darkness. No, it was the darkness. I froze, the staff trembling in my grip as my eyes were drawn upward¡ªslowly, reluctantly. I craned my neck, and there they were. Two uneven, oval orbs stared back at me, dim and unblinking, set just below the splintered edge of the deck I had fallen through. It wasn¡¯t just big. It was massive. Too large for this space, its bulk hunched awkwardly beneath the wooden beams, its limbs dragging through the water that rushed in with every shift of its grotesque body. It wasn¡¯t human. It wasn¡¯t even trying to be. Dead flesh, pieced together with all the artistry of a butcher patching a tapestry of meat, stretched taut and rotting. Stitches crisscrossed its misshapen form, holding the abomination together in defiance of any natural order. Its slack jaw hung open, revealing uneven teeth, blackened and jagged. And its eyes¡ªthose dull, dazed orbs¡ªwere locked on the glowing tip of my lantern-staff. Like a moth drawn to flame. Like hunger personified. It moved then, dragging itself forward with a sound like waterlogged wood tearing itself apart. And I, foolish, frozen thing that I was, could do nothing but grip the staff tighter, its glow feeble against the creeping tide of the creature¡¯s shadow. ¡°Damn, and here I thought Aunt Lanying was ugly¡­¡± Liang Feng¡¯s muttered whisper cut through the stillness. Before I had time to question his bravado, Liang shifted the staff in my grip, leaving the lantern dangling from its end to arc through the air just as my armored reaper plunged through the gaping hole above. The reaction from the creature was immediate. The vacant gaze sharpened, and its jaw snapped shut as a roar tore from its throat. The sound wasn¡¯t just loud¡ªit was a physical thing, a vibration that shook every plank in the ruined hull and rattled my teeth in their sockets. Then came the fist, massive and rotten, surging forward like the tide, aiming straight for the staff¡¯s glowing tip.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. For a moment, it seemed almost childish, like some oversized toddler chasing fireflies. But Liang, always quicker than I was, adjusted the staff¡¯s arc mid-swing. The creature¡¯s decaying hand missed the lantern entirely and collided instead with the armored figure who¡¯d just descended. The impact was thunderous, a sound that seemed to suck all the air from the room. But it wasn¡¯t the soldier¡¯s cry of pain that reached my ears. It was Liang¡¯s. ¡°Your¡­¡± he coughed, the strength of the blow reverberating through our shared body, ¡°turn.¡± The fluid motion of the staff turned sluggish, leaden, as Liang relinquished control to me. My legs buckled under the sudden weight, and I staggered back into the rising water. I barely had time to catch my breath before the armored reaper, who had been flung across the cargo space like a discarded doll, twisted in midair. He wasn¡¯t done. Not even close. With uncanny precision, he angled his body, hitting the wall feet-first. The force of his landing sent a cascade of water spilling in every direction, but he used it to vault himself back to the floor in a smooth, predatory motion. He hit the ground in a crouch, water rippling around him, and rose with an unrelenting grace. He was barely scratched. The undead giant, on the other hand, recoiling from the force of its own strike, let out a guttural cry that shook the room again. Then I saw it. A ragged piece of flesh¡ªa severed finger, wrenched clean from the undead behemoth¡¯s massive hand¡ªthat crashed into the water. Even before the rotting limb had twitched once and then stilled, the armored man¡¯s hollow gaze locked onto me. It was an empty, chilling thing, like staring into a well where no light reached. Then he bolted forward, water churning in his wake. Behind me, another roar tore through the darkness, deep and guttural, a sound that seemed to rise from the ship¡¯s very bones. The force of it rippled through the water and through me, rattling my ribs and leaving me breathless. Before I could think, a tidal wave crashed into me, driven by the sweep of a massive, rotting arm dragging along the floor. The limb cut through the cargo hold with deliberate malice, its path aimed directly at me. Still reeling from the whiplash of Liang¡¯s relinquished control, I barely had the sense to move. My body reacted before my mind caught up, legs pushing off just as the giant¡¯s arm clipped my feet. I tumbled through the air in a graceless spin, hitting the water hard enough to knock what little breath I had left from my lungs. Cold and murky, the river surged into my mouth and nose as I scrambled, disoriented, for some sense of direction. The pain in my chest was sharp, but the adrenaline roaring through my veins was sharper. Twisting beneath the surface, I found the ground beneath me and pushed up, emerging with a splutter of coughs and gasps. I had no time to collect myself¡ªno time for anything. A shadow loomed above, and I looked up just in time to see a man-sized fist descending, fast and brutal, while my own armored grim reaper closed in from the front. My hands moved on instinct, the staff in my grip glowing brighter as I swung it up. The lantern-light seemed to carve a path through the dark, redirecting the giant¡¯s strike at the last moment. The undead behemoth¡¯s fist crashed through the floorboards, splintering wood and sending a spray of debris into the air. The river surged in through the fresh breach, the water rising faster now, swirling and churning with a relentless hunger. I threw myself to the side as the armored soldier darted in the opposite direction, both of us narrowly avoiding being crushed. The force of the blow left the ship groaning, its timbers protesting under the strain. The water was already up to my chest by the time I found my footing again, the weight of it dragging at my movements. The undead giant seemed to feel it too. An uneasy snarl rumbled low in its chest, and the ship groaned beneath us as the creature restlessly shifted its weight. It wasn¡¯t just drowning¡ªit was panicking. But there was no escape¡ªnot for it, not for the soldier, and not for me. And so, I couldn¡¯t let it falter. Not yet. If it stopped thrashing and turned its attention elsewhere¡ªsay, anywhere that wasn¡¯t the armored man¡ªI wouldn¡¯t last long. Worse yet, half-blind in the chaos, the river crushing in from every direction, I couldn¡¯t even see where my murderous assailant had vanished to. Not that I waited around to find out either. I forced myself forward, trudging through the water as if sheer will could carry me faster. ¡°Here, you ugly bastard!¡± I shouted, the words raw in my throat. I swung the lantern-staff in a wide arc, its green glow slicing through the murk like defiance made manifest. The giant¡¯s eyes, each the size of a wagon wheel and clouded with something that might¡¯ve been fear, refocused in an instant. The river was forgotten. It snarled, a sound so deep it felt like a second heartbeat pounding in my ribs, and I saw the flicker of flame reflected in its pupils. Rage replaced hesitation, and its colossal hands began to move. They came sweeping through the water from either side, carving twin wakes through the rising flood. The motion was terrifyingly familiar, like a person swatting at a gnat. And just like a gnat, I hurled myself out of the way at the last possible moment. The impact of its palms colliding was deafening, a thunderclap that left my ears ringing. The force alone sent waves crashing across the hold, slamming me into the splintered wall of the cargo space. Pain flared across my ribs as I hit the wood, and I gasped reflexively, sucking in more river water than I cared to think about. Before I could catch my breath, a gauntleted hand tore through the air where my head had been a moment before. A jagged edge of broken armor caught the light as it passed, the green glow reflecting off the deadly arc of its movement. There was no time to think, no time to plan. Survival wasn¡¯t a strategy¡ªit was instinct, raw and desperate. I dove into the water without hesitation, throwing myself left into the rushing current while hurling the staff to my right. Its green light spun wildly as it arced through the air, then splashed into the rising river, leaving me in utter darkness. My lungs screamed for air, but I clawed forward, every stroke desperate and blind. The water surged around me, a cold chaos that erased all sense of direction. Up became down, forward became backward, and the rising river swallowed everything. When I finally breached the surface, gasping and sputtering, my feet no longer found purchase on anything solid. The ship was sinking faster than I¡¯d realized. The cargo hold, already an unstable, groaning space, had given way to the river¡¯s relentless pull. Still disoriented, I fought to steady myself, gulping air in ragged breaths. And then I saw him. The armored man stood waist-deep in the flood, the glowing staff now clutched in his gauntleted hand. His black visor locked onto me with chilling precision, and I had only a heartbeat to register my doom before something else intervened. A colossal fist, rotted and furious, struck him like a battering ram. The force of the blow hurled him through what remained of the hull, tearing wood apart as if it were paper. For a single breath, I saw the burning sky beyond the shattered planks. Then the river surged forward, filling the void and dragging me under with it. Chapter 17 I barely managed a gasp before the current consumed me. The chaos was total¡ªbubbles roared past my ears, splintered wood scraped against my limbs, and the fiery light above flickered in and out of sight. The ship tilted further, groaning as it gave in to the river¡¯s hunger, and I was pulled helplessly along. Direction became meaningless. The water spun me, tumbled me, stripped the air from my lungs. My chest burned, my arms thrashed, and still the river had its way with me. My hands found nothing but empty water, then splinters, then nothing again¡ªuntil suddenly, they closed on something solid. Fleshly, mushy, but solid It moved beneath my grip, powerful and deliberate, and before I could comprehend what I¡¯d grabbed onto, I was yanked forward. The current around me surged with startling force, and the next thing I knew, I was breaking the surface like a rag doll flung from the depths. Or, perhaps more accurately, like a limp seal flung from the jaws of some great and hungry beast. What I¡¯d caught hold of was the arm of the rotting giant. It had finished tearing itself free from the sinking ship, breaching the surface with a roar so deep it made the river shudder. For a brief, frozen moment that felt like an eternity, I hung at the highest arc of my trajectory. Below me, the giant thrashed in the water, an undead abomination clawing for its non-life. The black vessel was gone, shattered into a thousand splinters and swallowed by the river¡¯s wrath. The armored soldiers had vanished, consumed by water or worse. Beyond the chaos, the town¡ªH¨¦ Ji¨¥¡ªwas still ablaze, fire licking at the night sky like a thousand desperate hands. Then, gravity reclaimed me, turning me over midair, dragging me back toward the river. Below, waves churned, massive and wild, crashing outward from the giant¡¯s flailing limbs. Amid the chaos, a battered merchant vessel struggled against the tide, its hull groaning but, somehow, still afloat. From its prow, I saw her. Mei, bruised and bloodied, staring up at me with wide, horrified eyes. Before I even hit the water, she dove after me. At first, it seemed ridiculous, her small form leaping into the chaos. Then I hit the water hard, sideways, the impact punching what little air I had left from my lungs. The cold swallowed me whole, a crushing, roaring presence that dragged me down. I clawed my way to the surface, weak and sputtering, only to be yanked under again by another ruthless wave. My limbs felt leaden, useless against the river¡¯s fury. I was dimly aware of hands grabbing me, pulling me upward, just as I thought the river would have me for good. Mei. Her hands found purchase, her grip fierce despite the chaos around us. She pulled me up, her face a pale blur against the dark water. I hadn¡¯t realized how weak I¡¯d become until I stopped struggling and let her do the work. For what felt like an endless minute, there was nothing but gasping breaths, harsh and desperate, and the sound of waves battering against us. The river fought to pull us under again, but Mei wouldn¡¯t let go. Somehow, through sheer, stubborn will¡ªand token efforts on my part¡ªshe dragged me toward the merchant vessel. By the time we reached it, both of us were on the edge of collapse. Mei managed to haul me aboard with a herculean effort, both of us flopping onto the deck like ragged, half-drowned animals. For a long moment, there was nothing but our gasping breaths and waterlogged coughs. The planks beneath me swayed, slick with river water, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I might pass out. Then, a single word, sharp and bitter, broke the silence¡ªa curse, dripping with dread and hopelessness. Mei¡¯s voice, shivering as much from cold as from fear.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I weakly peeled my head away from the deck, every muscle protesting as I turned my gaze toward her. But it wasn¡¯t her I saw. It was the giant. A guttural roar tore across the river, its sound like a landslide dragging rocks and ruin in its wake. My own curse slipped out unbidden, low and shaky. The river here must¡¯ve been fifteen feet deep even at it most shallow points, yet the undead giant had somehow found its footing. Its massive frame loomed above the waves, heaving and dripping, its body no longer flailing for survival. No, the thing had found a purpose now, its glazed-over eyes locking onto us like a starving dog spotting the last scrap of meat in the world. Its first unsteady step sent violent waves crashing outward, the river surging even higher against its chest as it waded deeper into the water to reach us. Even so, there was no hesitation in its movement, no confusion. Only mindless determination, a singular purpose that radiated from every stitch and sinew: break, destroy, devour. Mei was the first to move. She staggered to her feet, still hacking up river water as she fumbled with something on the deck. ¡°I was hoping to save this for those armored monsters,¡± she coughed, straightening up in a shaky mess, ¡°but heaven¡¯s wrath, one nightmare just keeps replacing the next¡­¡± Then I saw it, clutched in her trembling hands. A heavy bow, its design strange and brutal, unlike anything I¡¯d seen before. Its string was taut, nocked with an arrow that wasn¡¯t just oversized but carried a payload that gleamed with an ominous, otherworldly light¡ªplucked from the fever dreams of a mad alchemist. It took me a moment to recognize it, to place the foreign thing in its familiar forebodings. An incendiary arrow. One of the same hateful creations that had wrecked through the pavilion, setting the entire night ablaze and turning the town into a waking nightmare. I had no idea where she¡¯d found it¡ªaboard the black ship, salvaged in the midst of the sinking chaos?¡ªbut there it was, cradled in her trembling hands, the faint hum of power practically buzzing against the air. The deck rocked violently beneath us as another wave, born from the giant¡¯s relentless approach, slammed into the merchant ship. The undead monstrosity moved with a terrifying purpose, each step faster than it had any right to be. The river churned around it in fury, and with every moment, it closed the distance. Mei¡¯s arms were trembling, her grip faltering as she struggled to pull back the bow¡¯s heavy string. Her stance wavered, her knees buckling under the weight of exhaustion, and still, the abomination surged forward. Another step, another wave. In a matter of seconds, it would reach us. The world seemed to sway around me, but even so, I got to my feet, barely finding my balance on the unsteady deck. Gritting my teeth, pain and fatigue screaming through every fiber of my body, I staggered forward, stepping behind her as my ravaged hands closed over hers. For an instant, she stiffened in surprise, but then she exhaled, a shuddering resignation. Together, we pulled the string back, our combined strength barely enough to draw it taut. The moment we did, the arrow¡¯s fuse ignited, spitting sparks and smoke as it began its countdown to calamity. There was no time to think. No time to aim. I couldn¡¯t say if it was her or me guiding the shot, or some shared instinct born of desperation. A roar split the night, deafening and primal, and the giant¡¯s arm tore through the water, massive and inevitable. Rotting fingers stretched toward us, ready to obliterate the ship in a single blow. We loosed the string. The arrow shot forward, its sizzling trail carving through the night. A heartbeat later, the giant¡¯s hand collided with the bow¡¯s railing, splintering wood in an explosion of shrapnel. The deck buckled underneath us. Everything turned over. And then the real detonation came. A deafening blast shattered the air, the arrow striking true and erupting in a burst of violent, blinding flames. The abomination reeled, its inhuman wail shaking the world as fire engulfed its head and shoulders. The flames licked hungrily at the river, igniting the slick of oil that floated on its surface, turning the water into a writhing sea of fire. For a moment, the night was bright as day. The entire river had become a living thing, roaring with light and fury. Then the flames gave way to shadow, and the river rose to swallow us whole. Darkness crashed over me, heavy and cold, and I was pulled under into the crushing depths. Chapter 18 It all felt out of place as I lay there, soaked to the bone, sprawled like driftwood on the shore. Fireworks crackled in the distance, a hollow cheer to greet the gloomy twilight of dawn. They painted the sky with sparks of celebration, as if I¡¯d just reached the flag at the end of the level. But there was no triumphant fanfare, no holographic notification congratulating me on a victory. Not even Liang¡¯s drawling voice, ready with a snide remark. There was only me¡ªmy broken body, the cold bite of the morning air, and the steady rhythm of a river lapping hungrily at the shore. No, not just me. Mei was there too. I could hear her further down the shore, hacking up what sounded like a bucket¡¯s worth of water. If not for her, I¡¯d be another nameless corpse floating downstream. Not that I had the strength to lift my head, much less thank her. Isn¡¯t this the part where I¡¯m supposed to get some kind of level-up notification? I thought, staring up into a brightening sky. Shouldn¡¯t there be a burst of light, a triumphant chime, and then¡ªbam¡ªI¡¯m as good as new? Everything else about this place had flowed like a game so far. But as I lay there, my ribs screaming, my lungs burning with the last remnants of river water, there was only the crushing reality a bright screen was meant to make you forget. How many people had I watched die tonight? How many times had I nearly joined them? My mind struggle to process it all. Maybe it would catch up with me in due time, but I hadn¡¯t even come to terms with my own death yet. Victor Moore¡¯s death, bleeding out in a parking lot. As dawn stretched its pale fingers across the horizon, I couldn¡¯t help but wish, with a hollow ache, that this was a game. Because at least in a game, I could trust there was a reason for all of it. At least in a game, it would make sense. Another firework cracked in the distance, bright against the soft gray of morning. I couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the absurdity of it all. Myself being here and, well, everything. ¡°Happy Resplendent Harmony Festival,¡± I said, my voice dry and brittle. ¡°Really drives home the point that the demonic sects are long gone, doesn¡¯t it?¡± The sarcasm in my tone wasn¡¯t meant to carry far, just a scrap of gallows humor to lighten the weight of the night. But I could hear Mei¡¯s coughing go silent. She didn¡¯t laugh. Of course, she didn¡¯t. She¡¯d already pieced it together. The Jiangshi. The slaughtered town. The black-armored soldiers. It all painted a picture too grim to ignore. ¡°That¡¯s what they were, weren¡¯t they?¡± she said quietly. Her voice carried none of my bitterness, only a fragile sort of clarity. ¡°A demonic sect¡­¡± The name sat on the edge of my tongue, bitter and sharp: Corpse Lotus Sect. But I swallowed it down. Explanations would come later. For now, I just stared up at the sky, listening to my breathing, to the river whispering its secrets along the shore. If today truly was the Resplendent Harmony Festival¡ªthe day Mei Faolang lost everything¡ªthen I had returned to two years before the real beginning of Dao of the Divine. Two years. It sounded like so much time when spoken aloud, a wealth of moments to hoard and squander. But for cultivators, it was little more than the blink of an eye, and Liang Feng didn¡¯t even have the foundation for a martial body. Two years was what I¡¯d been given. The question gnawed at me: was it enough? Was I meant to beat the game before then? Last night, when everything had been happening all at once¡ªwhen strange traits and blinking screens had put everything at a distance and adrenaline had been coursing through my veins¡ªI had been eager at the chance. Now, as I¡¯d almost died again, I wasn¡¯t so sure anymore. There was also the larger question begging to be answered, the one that wouldn¡¯t stop scratching at the edges of my mind. Why am I here? People don¡¯t just die and wake up in pseudo-games, do they? Games with tutorials that pull you by the nose through seemingly predetermined routes. Routes that seemed to lead me to the worst danger at every turn. Even the escape it had innocently offered had pointed me towards the river¡ªright where the black ship waited. In a game, the pattern made sense. The player was meant to plow forward through the story. But here, who was pushing me forward? The thought made my headache throb harder. I was missing something. Some larger piece of the puzzle still lay out of reach. But before I could chase down the answers to why I was here¡ªor why this cruel game seemed intent on breaking me¡ªthere were more immediate concerns to tackle. Staying alive topped the list.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. I weakly dug my elbows into the muddy riverbank, the earth cold and unyielding beneath me. The effort was pathetic. My body felt like a lead anchor, dragging through the muck. A lead anchor, unfortunately, still capable of feeling pain. Wincing, I let my head fall back onto the ground. Yeah, you always were a shitty game, Dao of the Divine. Moving on my own wasn¡¯t an option. My body refused to cooperate, and even if it had, I wasn¡¯t sure where I¡¯d go. In the original story, Mei had survived the night by nearly getting crushed under a collapsing, burning building. By the time she clawed her way free, dawn had broken, and she¡¯d spent weeks in a feverish flight, desperate to return to the Emei Sect to report what had happened. And all of it¡ªevery breath, every step¡ªhad ended in tragedy. I couldn¡¯t afford that. Neither the weeks lost, the delirium, nor the tragedy. I had to¡ª Before I could finish the thought, Mei¡¯s face appeared at the edge of my vision, restless and pale, her dark hair clinging to her cheeks in wet tangles. ¡°I can hear someone,¡± she whispered, her voice tight as she glanced across the riverbank. Her words pulled me back, dragging my thoughts out of the endless loop of what-ifs and should-haves. ¡°Bad guys?¡± I croaked, trying to twist my head to look for myself. The attempt sent a fresh wave of weakness crashing over me, and I slumped back, my breath coming shallow and uneven. ¡°I... don¡¯t know.¡± Her uncertainty bled into her voice, and I could hear the strain of it, sharp as a blade against stone. I wasn¡¯t thrilled with her answer. And I could tell she wasn¡¯t either. Even if I wasn¡¯t too worried about those armored soldiers chasing after us¡ªclich¨¦ as it might sound, the Corpse Lotus Sect didn¡¯t operate much in the bright hours of day¡ªthat still left us at the mercy of other dangers. A stray Jiangshi still shambling along, for instance. Or bandits and scavengers. An entire town had burned through the night, and even now, thick black smoke twisted into the brightening sky behind us. Someone was bound to notice eventually¡ªespecially if they were close enough to set off fireworks to celebrate the festival. ¡°Here,¡± I said, my fingers fumbling as I worked the golden hoop free from my ear. The necklace Liang had worn last night was lost somewhere in the chaos, likely sunk to the bottom of the river or buried beneath the wreckage, but even this little piece of gold felt like a bad omen to parade around. ¡°Hide this, and help me to my feet, would you?¡± Mei¡¯s expression flickered, uncertainty tightening her features. ¡°But what if¡ª¡± ¡°What if they¡¯re worse than shambling, flesh-eating monsters?¡± I cut her off, my voice dry in a way we couldn¡¯t hope to be. I held out the earring toward her, deadpan. ¡°I¡¯ll take my chances. Preferably before one of those corpses floating by gets any bright ideas about moving on its own.¡± Her gaze flicked toward the river, where a broken piece of mast had lodged itself just downstream. It had caught a grim collection of flotsam¡ªsplintered wood, scraps of cloth, and bodies. Too many bodies. They bobbed and turned in the water, disturbingly close. Even if they weren¡¯t going to rise and lurch after us, they were still there. Staring at them made my skin crawl in ways I couldn¡¯t put words to. The events of last night were a storm, a nightmare that left no room for clarity. But with the dawn creeping closer, I felt a quiet shift in my mind, a reassessment of sorts. Those were people once. And yet, this was neither the time nor the place to grieve, nor to lick my wounds. Survival demanded more from me. Perhaps Mei had come to the same realization. Her face hardened with something like resolve, and she grabbed my outstretched hand without another word. It was a strange thing. The first wave of d¨¦j¨¤ vu hit me before I even realized it. Something about those men¡ªknelt over a corpse washed up further downstream, their heads rising in unison toward the pillar of smoke curling from the burnt town¡ªwas almost picturesque. Like a scene pulled from a carefully crafted movie, there to emphasize the weight of their discovery. Or better yet, a cutscene from a game, seamlessly weaving one plotline into another. I had seen this moment before. Yet here it was, vivid and sharp, drawn in colors more real than I¡¯d ever imagined. And with it came the unshakable sense of being swept along by something larger than myself, some inexorable tide pulling me toward a rewritten story. In the game, this was a pivotal moment: the Wudang Clan discovering the return of the Demonic Sects. A revelation laden with gravity, a turning point for the Jianghu prior to Dao of the Divine. But in the game, Mei hadn¡¯t been here. And Liang Feng certainly hadn¡¯t either. The magic of the scene splintered the instant one of the men noticed us. The picturesque quality dissolved like smoke in the wind, and reality returned. A shout went up, though I couldn¡¯t make out the words, and they began running toward us. It made sense, I supposed. They were Wudang, one of the Orthodox Sects¡¯ oldest clans, known for their discipline and sense of duty. Of course they¡¯d rush to aid two battered souls staggering along the riverbank. Still, a quiet thought nagged at me: had they seen even a fraction of what we¡¯d faced last night, would they have been so quick to lower their guard as we shambled closer? ¡°What do you think?¡± I murmured to Mei, keeping my voice low. ¡°Should I collapse now for dramatic effect, or wait until the timing¡¯s just right?¡± It was meant as a joke, but the truth lingered beneath the humor. The whole scene felt surreal, as if I were still trapped in some prolonged cutscene, the line between game and reality blurred beyond recognition. And somewhere deep down, I couldn¡¯t help but wonder if I was still just a piece on a larger board. A pawn moved by hands I couldn¡¯t see. Apparently, something agreed that a touch of dramatic effect was in order. Before I could finish the thought, my knees buckled beneath me. The world tilted, colors bleeding into darkness. There was no ground beneath me. No air. No sound but a distant, mechanical text echoing in the void: [Tutorial Complete] [The Resplendent Harmony Massacre: Ending¡­] [Score, Calculating¡­] [Error. Predicted Outcome Not Found] [Evaluating Broken Scenario...] [Unknown Entity: Located] [Calling Administrator] [Temporary Extraction: In Progress...] Chapter 19 [Extraction Complete] [Player A1f4-DOTD-000] [Information Loading...] [Please, Stand By...] Elevator music. Of all the things to greet me, of course it was elevator music. Had it been anything else¡ªa choir of angels, a booming voice of judgment, even silence¡ªperhaps the sudden change of surroundings would have been more startling. Now, however, as I blinked my eyes open to an endless expanse of white, I was barely phased. It wasn¡¯t quite the blinding white of a hospital ceiling, nor the soft, pillowy haze of a dream. It was flat, featureless, and unsettling in its stark simplicity. Yet somehow, as vaguely familiar jingles filled the air like some corporate purgatory, it was almost comforting. If this was what awaited beyond death, it aligned far more with my expectations than whatever I¡¯d just left behind. So this was it, then? I thought. Had my strange adventure as Liang Feng been nothing more than a fever dream? A detour before arriving at the pearly gates? Or, at the very least, a waiting room to whatever came next. I might have felt more, but the music¡ªcheerful and devoid of urgency¡ªsmoothed the edges of my emotions. Compared to the agony I¡¯d been drowning in moments earlier, this felt almost serene. Just as I began to quietly hum along, however, a calm, mechanical voice interrupted the tune. ¡°Victor Moore,¡± it said, emotionless and precise. ¡°Adaptability, A+. Initial screening, passed. Administrator will be with you shortly.¡± I blinked again as a screen materialized from the nothingness, floating in midair. It was crisp and clean, displaying what could only be described as a glorified slideshow of my life. Highlights, lowlights, and a montage of moments I would¡¯ve rather left forgotten. It was a condensed summary of who Victor Moore¡ªI¡ªhad been before I died, as if my existence was little more than a dossier for some cosmic HR department. Below the footage was a cheerful little message: You¡¯re dead, but don¡¯t be sad. It came with a selection of philosophical musings about life and its meaning, the kind that would¡¯ve felt profound at 3 a.m. but came off as trite under fluorescent lighting. ¡°Death is merely another step in a long journey¡­¡± the screen assured me, its font annoyingly cheerful as it tried to comfort me of the cyclical nature of existence. A video icon blinked at the bottom, offering an instructional guide for what was to come next, complete with a variety of language options. I couldn¡¯t help but huff a soft laugh. The afterlife was a lot more tech-savvy than I¡¯d expected. ¡°Aren¡¯t you doing this in the wrong order, though?¡± I asked, my voice echoing faintly against the endless white expanse. There was no discernible source for the earlier mechanical voice, no hidden speaker or disembodied face. Just a subtle gradient shift between floor and ceiling, as if someone had decided the afterlife needed a vague sense of depth. All it served to do was make me feel small. ¡°What was last night about?¡± I continued. The faint bitterness in my words surprised me, as did the sting of regret that followed. ¡°What was the point of getting my hopes up if you were just going to yank it away¡­¡± Disappointment. That was the feeling. Dao of the Divine had been my life long before I fell into Liang Feng¡¯s body. Even burned, drowned, and nearly devoured by the undead¡ªnow that I was separated from the pain and discomfort¡ªI realized missed it. Or maybe it wasn¡¯t the body I missed but the world it had anchored me to. ¡°Damned teases¡­¡± I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. ¡°No need to be so pessimistic, Victor Moore.¡± The voice startled me. Where the earlier announcement had been mechanical, this voice carried an almost conversational tone, its androgynous timbre coming from somewhere much closer. I turned quickly, expecting¡ªwell, I wasn¡¯t sure what I expected. A face, a figure, something human. There was nothing. The endless white stretched on, undisturbed by my spinning around. ¡°We will return you to A1f4-DOTD shortly,¡± they still continued, as calm and steady as before. ¡°First, however¡­¡± There was the crisp sound of hands clapping, a simple gesture that somehow carried the weight of a command. Everything went dark in an instant, as though someone had pulled the plug on the endless white. [Updating Background...] As light began to bleed back into the void, the endless white was gone. In its place emerged something strangely grounded yet out of place: an upscale Chinese restaurant. Black wood polished to a near mirror shine, accents of deep red and bright gold, cushioned chairs arranged around round tables, and soft, glowing lanterns casting everything in a warm, atmospheric light. The space was somewhere between cozy and elegant, like the sort of place you¡¯d go for a special occasion that didn¡¯t demand a suit jacket. All that was missing were the hum of conversation, the clinking of chopsticks on porcelain, the lazy swirl of tea in delicate cups. ¡°This should be more comfortable, no?¡± The voice returned, its tone casual, almost teasing. ¡°A reasonable blend of two worlds you should be familiar with.¡± It pained me how little I could disagree. My gaze swept over the room again, lingering on small details: plastic bowls on one side of the table, menus translated neatly into English on the other. It was the kind of fusion that reminded me of home¡ªnot the deep, aching homesickness of a man torn from his roots, but the simpler nostalgia of a life lived in borrowed pieces, warm and bittersweet. Beyond books and digital screens, this was the most culture I¡¯d ever managed to absorb as Victor Moore¡ªa half-hearted exploration of the world through takeout boxes and fortune cookies. The realization was faintly embarrassing, but before I could dwell on it too long, my gaze found them.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. I could have sworn the voice had come from across the room, yet as my eyes finally landed on them, they were seated directly across from me, lounging opposite a low, lacquered table. Perhaps they had always been there. Or perhaps they had waited until my gaze was ready to land on them. Their figure was lithe, balanced on a delicate knife¡¯s edge between masculine and feminine. They wore something resembling a tailored business suit, but its lines and details were threaded with a thematic elegance¡ªtwo golden dragons curling down the sleeves and along the sharp seams of their pants, seamlessly blending with the room¡¯s quiet opulence. For a moment, I thought I caught the glint of a high-heeled shoe as they uncrossed their legs, but it slipped from view just as quickly. And then there was their face¡ªor, rather, the lack of it. Despite their relaxed posture, there was something meticulous about the way they were positioned. The lanterns shadows cut perfectly across their head like a veil, swallowing every feature. No contour or edge broke through the murk, and no matter how I tilted my head, the darkness seemed to follow, fluid and impenetrable. I felt the faint itch of curiosity creep closer. What would happen if I moved toward them, leaned in just so, forced the shadows to give up their secret? Yet a deeper hesitation rooted me in place. Whatever I might find, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure I wanted to see it. For a brief, unsettling moment, I could have sworn I saw the shadows settle¡ªcoalescing into the shape of horns curling away from their head. Then, just as quickly, they shimmered into the faint suggestion of a halo before dissolving back into ambiguity. ¡°No need to change it on my part,¡± I said, swallowing my unease as I forced my voice to remain steady, polite. If I wasn¡¯t mistaken¡ªand I prayed I was¡ªthis was the person who¡¯d been toying with me all night. The one pulling strings, nudging me along like a pawn on a board. ¡°Quick on the uptake,¡± they said, their voice curling like smoke, rich with amusement. There was a casual flick of their hand, as if going through notes on an invisible screen. ¡°Comfortable going with the flow, neither weak-willed nor overly temperamental. Very good, Victor Moore. Its assessment of you is rather favorable, and these are some of the main qualities we look for in mortal souls. You really were an ideal candidate, all the way up until the more¡­ unfortunate circumstances surrounding your passing.¡± Its assessment? Favorable qualities? Mortal souls and unfortunate circumstances? Countless questions pressed against the back of my teeth, yet only one managed to slip free. ¡°Candidate for what?¡± I asked. A pause. Just long enough for the silence to feel deliberate. ¡°A second chance, of course.¡± Their tone was honeyed, pleasant¡ªso perfectly pleasant that it only made me trust them less. They were toying with me. I knew it as surely as I knew the ache in my chest wasn¡¯t there anymore. To them, this was a game, but not one where the rules were designed for me to win. ¡°Are you God?¡± I asked, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them. Their posture stiffened ever so slightly, a subtle shift that made me feel as though I¡¯d brushed against something sharp. ¡°I had thought of you as an atheist, Mister Moore,¡± they said, their tone careful now, the earlier ease tempered. ¡°Would you disagree with that assumption?¡± From their tone, I could tell that my answer was important. That it might irrevocably change the course of our discussion. For better or worse, however, I wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°Agnostic,¡± I said after a moment of deliberation, carefully keeping my options open. ¡°Never had much reason to believe one way or the other. Until, well¡­¡± I gestured vaguely at the room around us, its glowing lanterns and lacquered wood. ¡°The moment I died.¡± ¡°And are you planning to invoke the name of any god or religion from your world now?¡± they asked, their tone still measured, still watchful. ¡°I wasn¡¯t planning on it,¡± I replied, hoping that my measured tone came across as casual confidence. In truth, I had no idea whose name I¡¯d even invoke. Buddha? Zeus? The capital-G God himself? ¡°Should I?¡± ¡°It would mean a lot more paperwork for us,¡± they said, their voice adopting a dryness that felt startlingly mundane, given the circumstances. ¡°And frankly, I don¡¯t think it would do you much good. Your soul was still labeled unaffiliated when you died. Now, being dead, you don¡¯t exactly have a lot of leverage over what happens to it. At best, you¡¯d summon a lot of hyenas trying to rip themselves a piece of the bounty.¡± There was a sigh, soft but heavy, like the sound of someone loosening their tie after a long day. ¡°Usually, that¡¯s where we come in¡ªthe Brokers,¡± they continued. ¡°Ears that would listen and hear your wishes out. But before we could get to you, you¡¯d already managed to slip through the cracks in a rather¡­unconventional way.¡± I felt the weight of their gaze again, like a subtle pressure pressing down on my skin. Then, quieter, almost to themselves, they added, ¡°A soul-merge, really? Have you never learned how to take a hint?¡± I wasn¡¯t sure if I was meant to hear that last part, but it hardly mattered. My lips curled into a faint smile as a voice¡ªhis voice¡ªrose unbidden from my mouth. ¡°Is it wrong that I do not want to¡ª¡± And then, silence. The words stopped, not because they were finished but because I had cut them off. Reflexively, I¡¯d clenched down on my own tongue, halting the flow of his thoughts spilling out of my mouth. To my surprise, it worked. To his surprise too, if the jolt of disoriented emotion mixing with my own was anything to go by. Well. This was new. The Broker¡¯s laugh rang out, sharp and clear, like glass breaking in a quiet room. ¡°Well, now. That¡¯s unexpected,¡± they said, the shadows on their face curling into shapes I couldn¡¯t quite define. ¡°But I suppose that¡¯s what you get, Mister Feng, for invoking contracts you can¡¯t even begin to comprehend. Whatever leverage you had back in your world, in your body, isn¡¯t worth much here.¡± They rose from their chair with a languid grace, but the shadows remained glued to their head like a mask, stubborn and deliberate. It reminded me of stage lighting, the kind meant to leave just enough obscured to keep the audience guessing. ¡°No, it seems here, our dear Victor is in charge,¡± they said, their tone edged with amusement as they began to circle me, deliberate and unhurried. ¡°How. Interesting.¡± Their steps were soft, measured, like a predator in no rush to pounce. ¡°I must say, you¡¯d already captured my attention with your performance during that little¡­ botched tutorial of yours. But this? Oh, this changes things. It certainly does.¡± They came full circle and settled back into their chair with a fluid motion, steepling their fingers and leaning forward as if to examine me anew. ¡°Well then, Victor¡ªdo you mind if I call you Victor?¡± ¡°By all means,¡± I said, relieved to find that here, in this strange, shadowy limbo, I truly was in control. Liang¡¯s presence was a murmur at the edge of my thoughts, nothing more. Unless I let him, he wouldn¡¯t be able to interfere. I could feel his displeasure coalesce somewhere in the back of my mind, but I ignore it. ¡°Brilliant.¡± Once more, the Broker¡¯s tone was pleasant¡ªtoo pleasant¡ªand for the life of me, I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that the brilliance they spoke of was the kind that ended with a dagger in someone¡¯s back. ¡°I suppose an explanation is in order then. The one you should¡¯ve received before our little incident turned everything upside down. Now, where to start¡­¡± Their fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, a thoughtful cadence that filled the space between their words. ¡°Ah, yes. Perhaps with this: what do you think a game really is, Victor? Entertainment? A story? A distraction?¡± They tilted their head, and though I couldn¡¯t see their face, I could feel their attention settle on me like a weight. ¡°You¡¯ve played many games in your time. But have you ever considered the role you play in them? And more importantly¡ª¡± Their voice dropped, turning sharp as a blade, ¡°¡ªwhat happens when you stop playing?¡±