《Character Template Variations [Creating World Inside the Body]》 1.1 [The Last Game at the End of The World] After another mind-numbing day at work, North had one thing to look forward to¡ªhis very particular hobby of making life hell for NPCs and players alike. It wasn''t a job. It wasn''t a side hustle. It wasn''t even something he did for recognition. It was just something that made him laugh after eight hours of corporate bullshit. The glow of multiple monitors cast an eerie light across his cluttered apartment, illuminating empty energy drink cans and a stack of debugging logs he''d been compiling for months. Some people collected stamps. Others played normal games. North? He broke them. Fantasy Simulator was his canvas, and suffering was his art. A smile tugged at his lips as he booted up his latest creation: a recursive loop in the inheritance system that would drive both NPCs and players mad. .
?[WELCOME TO FANTASY SIMULATOR]? [Server: Peace is A LIE #431] [Administrator: North]
The code was elegant in its simplicity¡ªa few altered variables, a twisted probability matrix, and just enough randomness to make everything feel natural. Every change was documented, every consequence mapped out in his mind with cold precision. "Let''s see how this plays out," he murmured, initiating the test sequence. His eyes flicked between monitors, scanning for any unexpected behavior. The room smelled faintly of instant noodles and overworked electronics, but North barely noticed. He was too focused on the data streaming across his screens. He took a long sip of his energy drink, condensation pooling beneath the can as he surveyed his domain. The world map sprawled across his primary monitor. A mountain monastery was burning to the ground¡ªagain. A peerless Jade Beauty was escaping her 112th forced marriage attempt of the week. And in the central square of Heavenly Peace City, an entire population stood frozen in an endless philosophical debate with a mysterious daoist about whether rocks had souls. "Now that''s what I call cultivation," North chuckled, his eyes flickering with amusement. He''d spent months fine-tuning the NPC consciousness parameters, pushing them just far enough to question their existence without completely breaking character. The results were... magnificent. But today''s entertainment would be special. The blood inheritance he''d just introduced wasn''t just another random event. It was a masterpiece of probability and false flags, designed to trigger every possible trope in sequence. The fact that it was probably fake wouldn''t matter¡ªthe mere possibility of it being real would be enough to set the entire server on fire. And right on cue, the sky split in half. Two Immortal Visionaries materialized in mid-air, their robes billowing dramatically despite the clear violation of several laws of physics. Lightning crackled between them as their eyes burned with heaven-shaking rage. Below them, an entire mortal empire cowered, watching in horror as reality itself threatened to unravel. North leaned back in his chair, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "Xu Ling!" Grand Elder Tianbao''s voice shattered the heavens, "You dare to steal the Blood Ancestor''s inheritance? Have you forgotten the Heavenly pact between demonic and righteous? Have you forgotten the price the last time your demonic faction paid?" For a moment, something flickered in the corner of North''s debug window¡ªa string of anomalous calculations¡ªbut he was too engrossed in the drama to notice. Sect Master Xu Ling clutched the blood crystal, his eyes blazing with a fervor that seemed to exceed the emotional parameters North had set. "Heavenly Pact? Don''t make me laugh, Tianbao! If you were worthy, the inheritance would have chosen you. But it didn''t, did it? Just like it rejected you three hundred years ago!" North raised an eyebrow. He hadn''t programmed that particular piece of backstory. The NPCs were getting creative with their own lore again. Amusing, if slightly concerning. The air trembled as both Visionaries unleashed their divine techniques. A ten-thousand-mile sword slash carved through the clouds. A meteor storm rained down in response. Somewhere in the distance, a random chicken ascended to godhood, probably from exposure to the raw energy of their battle. "Your techniques are as flawed as your logic!" Tianbao roared, deflecting a barrage of cosmic ladles with his beard. "That inheritance is clearly a fake! Just like your strength!" "Says the man who cultivated the Mighty Dao of Manliness!" North nearly choked on his energy drink. These insults were definitely not in his dialogue tables. The NPCs were pulling from some creative well he hadn''t anticipated, but the results were too entertaining to patch out. Meanwhile, below the battling Visionaries, a mortal farmer clutched his wife in terror. "First it was the Great War of the Heaven-Going Blind," he sobbed, "then the Tragedy of the Divine Egg... and now this? Why is life like this?!" His wife had already passed out from spiritual pressure, mumbling about how she should have married that mortal accountant next door¡ªthe one who cultivated the safe and boring Dao of Tax Evasion. In the background of North''s primary monitor, unnoticed amidst the chaos, several lines of system code began to shift and mutate. The terminal was full of error lines. ¡­ A notification pinged on North''s second monitor, drawing his attention to an unusual anomaly. In the Crimson Celestial Peak Sect, someone had managed to break his carefully crafted power scaling. A Visionary had somehow reached the "Rank 7" in just three days. "Now this is interesting," North murmured, pulling up the player data.
[Player ID: ImmortalSage_420] [Rank: 7 (WARNING: Invalid Progression Detected)] [Time Played: 3 Days, 4 Hours] [Death Count: 0] [Special Status: ???]
North''s eyes narrowed. He''d designed the power system to be deliberately broken, yes, but this was different. This player had found an exploit he hadn''t intended. With a few keystrokes, he accessed the player''s location. The scene that unfolded made him sit up straight, energy drink forgotten. ImmortalSage_420 stood atop a mountain peak, surrounded by a crowd of bewildered NPCs. But instead of normally Ranking up by expanding their Imaginary Island or fighting for resources, they were... running a pyramid scheme. "Fellow daoists!" the player announced, their voice carrying supernatural authority. "Who wants to learn the secret technique of Multi-Level Martial Marketing? For just ten Rain Coins, you too can become an independent Visionary entrepreneur!" The surrounding NPCs were trapped in a logical loop. Their greed protocols demanded they seek power, but their face-saving protocols prevented them from admitting they were being scammed. The result was a bizarre scene of proud young masters and jade beauties awkwardly trying to sell Visionary Resources to each other. "Ingenious bastard," North whispered, genuinely impressed. The player had weaponized the NPCs'' own programming against them. By creating an endless chain of face-slapping opportunities, they''d somehow broken through the power ceiling. A system warning flashed:
[Test Sequence: Inheritance Chaos Protocol v2.3] [Warning: System Integrity Compromised] [Warning: NPC Behavior Matrices Destabilizing]
North dismissed the warnings with a laugh. This was too entertaining to stop. Besides, what was the worst that could happen? His system was designed to handle chaos. With another click he swapped the scene. This one was from the Celestial Peak Sect''s marriage alliance system¡ªhis favorite source of entertainment. The scene opened in the sect''s renowned Cherry Flower Valley, where Young Master Lin was pursuing what appeared to be the most stunning jade beauty he''d ever encountered. Her skin was like jade, her eyes like autumn waters, her figure so perfect it could topple nations¡ªeverything a proper cultivation novel demanded. "Immortal Fairy!" Young Master Lin called out, his heart racing as he chased after those floating silk robes. "Please, wait! I must know your name!" North leaned forward, grinning. He knew exactly what was coming.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. The jade beauty paused beneath a weeping willow, holding a delicate sleeve to her lips as she giggled musically. Cherry blossoms swirled in the air, despite it being the wrong season entirely.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has activated "Pursuit of Beauty" quest line] [Warning: Player Mental State Fluctuating]
Young Master Lin finally caught up, dropping to one knee. "I am Lin Tianyu of the Divine Sun Peak! Your beauty has captured my heart, and I swear by my dao heart that I¡ª" The jade beauty turned around fully. "Heavens, No," said a distinctly masculine voice. "You''re the fourth one today. Would you like some tea first, or should I skip straight to beating you?" Young Master Lin''s eyes bulged. The perfect jade beauty still stood there, but now he could also see... a muscular brother with a magnificent greatsword strapped to his back. Both images overlapped.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89''s "Dao Heart" has received critical damage]
"I am Wang Zhong, but most call me Big Sword Wang," the figure said, angrily yet somehow cheerfully, maintaining both the ethereal jade beauty''s appearance and the young master''s presence simultaneously. "Senior Brother of the Iron Sword Peak. I''ve been trying to explain this to everyone, but people keep throwing engagement rings at me and challenging each other to duels." "But... but..." Young Master Lin''s world was crumbling. "The ethereal grace! The devastatingly beautiful smile! The way you float like a heavenly immortal!" "Ah, that." Big Sword Wang scratched his head, the motion somehow creating both masculine swagger and feminine allure. "Side effect from my failed attempt at the ''Yin-Yang Unity Body Refinement Image.'' Was trying to understand both sides of the dao, you know? Now everyone either sees me as the most beautiful woman or the most handsome man. Sometimes both. Makes sect meetings really awkward." In the distance, another young master spotted them and immediately began racing over, love-struck. Behind him, three more followed, each clutching different betrothal gifts. "Not again," Big Sword Wang sighed, somehow managing to both flutter a fan delicately and adjust his massive sword at the same time. "Look, if you''re going to have a heart deviation, could you do it quietly? I have seventy-two marriage proposals to reject by sunset, and then there''s this whole tournament where apparently I''m both the prize AND a competitor..." Young Master Lin had already collapsed, his worldview in shambles. In his daze, he could only watch as Big Sword Wang effortlessly deflected another wave of new suitors using both supreme sword techniques and devastating feminine charm.
[System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has gained title "Seeker of Awkward Truths"] [System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 has lost "Young Master''s Confidence"] [System Notice: Player LegendaryChad89 is now contemplating the duality of existence]
"Now that''s art," North murmured, reaching for his energy drink. But before his fingers could grasp the can, something caught his attention on the third monitor. Inside the famous Golden Sunspire Inn, a Rank 1 player was attempting something that made North''s grin turn positively feral. The poor fool was trying to assassinate Old Man Wei. Not just any NPC, but THE Old Man Wei¡ªNorth''s personal masterpiece of game design cruelty. The one and only true Quest Giver in the entire world, disguised as the most generic-looking old man possible. The assassin, a fresh-faced rogue named "DeathReaper69", had clearly thought he''d found an easy mark. Just another elderly NPC drinking tea in the corner, perfect for testing out his starting abilities. If only he knew. North had given Old Man Wei absolute immortality specifically to prevent young master speedrunning exploits. The results were never disappointing. The rogue struck, blade aimed at the old man''s throat. Nothing happened. He tried again. Critical hit. Still nothing. Old Man Wei sipped his tea, completely unfazed. "Ah, young master," he said mildly, "which clan are you from? Are you perhaps lost? I have a small task that needs attending, if you''re interested. The rewards are quite good." DeathReaper69 went berserk. Abilities were spammed. Grenades were thrown. The rogue even attempted to glitch through walls, trying to somehow bypass the system''s protocols. Old Man Wei continued drinking his tea. "You know," the old man mused between sips, "the last young master who tried this ended up accepting my quest to find a legendary artifact.¡± The rogue player, growing increasingly desperate, tried wedging Old Man Wei into a corner. That''s when North''s favorite failsafe triggered. A bolt of heaven-splitting lightning crashed through the inn''s roof, somehow avoiding all other patrons, and struck the unfortunate assassin. DeathReaper69 exploded into a shower of starter equipment.
[System Notice: Player ''DeathReaper69'' has been eliminated by Quest Master Wei. His account has been flagged for review.] [System Notice: Old Man Wei''s Tea Remains Undisturbed] [System Notice: Quest "Finding Common Sense" is still available]
North watched with satisfaction as the rogue rage-typed in global chat: Player "DeathReaper69": WTF!!! THIS SIMULATOR IS RIGGED! THat OLD MAN WAS CLEARLY HACKING!
[System Notice: Old Man Wei''s Quest Count: 81,427 Offered, 30,647 Completed]
What the player didn''t know¡ªwhat none of them knew¡ªwas that Old Man Wei was more than just an immortal quest giver. He was North''s first experiment in true NPC consciousness, a being that had quietly watched thousands of players rise and fall, offering quests that were both impossible and profound. But even North didn''t notice the slight quirk in Old Man Wei''s smile as he poured another cup of tea, a knowing look that hadn''t been programmed into his behavior matrices. ... ... Meanwhile, behind North''s back, reality had begun to bleed. It started subtly. The first sign of something was wrong was the smell¡ª scent of alcohol, completely out of place in his otherwise clean apartment. North dismissed it as instant noodle fumes playing tricks on his mind. He didn''t notice how the walls behind his monitors had begun to change. The peeling paint of his apartment slowly transformed into the weathered wooden panels of the Golden Sunspire Inn. His carpet dissolved pixel by pixel, replaced by ancient floorboards that creaked with phantom footsteps.
ERROR: REALITY COHERENCE AT 37% World Boundaries Destabilizing... Administrator Privileges Compromised... Immersion Protocols Initiating Without Auth¡ª Recalibrating User Experience... Processing Customization... Loading Full Immersion Mode...
His server tower started to burn hot¡ªtoo hot. Lines of code leaked from its monitors like blood, forming strange patterns in the air, eating through his desk, dissolving the boundary between worlds. North finally noticed something was wrong when he heard noises that otherwise shouldn¡¯t exist in the quiet room. He reached to dismiss the cascade of error messages on the screen, but his hand passed through the keyboard. The room''s light fluctuated wildly as two realities¡ªdigital and physical¡ªbegan to superimpose. "What the fu¡ª" A random voice in the distance screamed, "YOU DARE EXIST IN MY PRESENCE?!" and instantly launched a world-shattering sword beam in supposedly his direction. A Jade Beauty gasped from a pavilion, "How shameless! He has seen my face¡ªhe must dig out his eyes or die!" Before North could react or comprehend what was going on, his screens flashed white. The smell of burning ozone filled his lungs as thunder cracked through his room. His body felt weightless, his gaming chair dissolving beneath him as his vision warped and twisted. He felt a hard, sticky, and dirty floor beneath his fingers. A strong smell of alcohol and loud noises inundated his head. The roar of random Visionaries battling over nonsense echoed through the inn. North''s eyes snapped open to find himself exactly where he''d never wanted to be: inside his own broken world.
?[WELCOME TO FANTASY SIMULATOR]? [Creator & Administrator "North" recognized.] [Because you enjoyed playing this game so much & due to all the hard work you have put inside¡­] [You have been chosen as a lucky world traveler.] [Thus, you are no longer a player. You are now a part of the system.] [Processing...] [Role Assigned: "Designated Scapegoat of Cosmic Balance."] [Error: System Stability¡ª 0%. Too much chaos detected. Attempting forced balance...] [Status: Stripping of all privileges] [New Role: Integration Required]
North''s lips twitched violently as the implications hit him. He couldn''t breathe.
[Plot Armor: 0.1% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: In Debt Already] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
[Installing Base Template...] [Template Installed: "Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins"]
As system messages cascaded through his mind, North slowly turned his head. Old Man Wei sat nearby, still drinking his tea, watching everything with that same knowing smile. North exhaled, fat tears forming in his eyes as he realized he somehow seemed to have entered his own masterpiece of suffering. "...Somebody Get Me Out of Here..." He cried. This was the beginning of his Last Game. 1.2 [New Event Triggered: "Unwanted Attention."] There was a barrage of deadly attacks flying everywhere in the inn. Swords sliced through the wooden beams, sending splinters raining like arrows. A Qi-infused palm strike shattered an entire wall, turning it into dust. The air itself was infused with killing intent, suffocating like a dense fog of bloodlust. At one table, a mysterious hooded expert sipped his tea calmly while a battle between life and death erupted around him¡ªexactly as expected. At another, an old beggar mysteriously revealed himself to be a hidden grandmaster, casually blocking a divine spear strike with a single chopstick. And North? Face-down on the floor, covering his head with both hands like a pathetic bug, trying not to die. Because if there was one universal truth about the inns, it was this: There was always trouble brewing. Whether it was arrogant young masters throwing their weight around, mysterious hooded figures exchanging cryptic messages, or desperate rogue visionary scheming in the shadows, no inn was ever just a place to rest. It was a battleground of hidden grudges, power struggles, and absurd misunderstandings that could escalate into full-blown duels at any moment. And if you were unlucky enough to walk through the doors at the wrong time? Congratulations¡ªyou were now part of the drama. What more: (Walking down the street alone and mistakenly staring at a Jade Beauty (or vice versa), randomly finding a treasure, and trying to eat in peace at an inn were the top three easiest ways to die.) The first? A death sentence in disguise. A single misplaced glance at a peerless beauty was enough to summon a murderous young master, an overprotective elder, or an entire sect hell-bent on erasing your existence. Whether you had romantic intentions or just happened to be looking in the wrong direction, the outcome was usually the same¡ªdisfigurement, crippling injuries, or outright obliteration. The second? Finding a treasure never ended well. If you stumbled upon an ancient artifact, a divine pill, or even a suspiciously shiny rock, congratulations¡ªyou now had the lifespan of a mayfly. The moment the news got out, you''d be hunted by greedy visionaries, scheming sect leaders, and possibly the original owner, who just happened to not be dead yet. The stronger the treasure, the higher the likelihood of your immediate and brutal demise. And the third? Trying to eat in peace at an inn. It should have been the safest thing in the world¡ªjust sit down, order a meal, and enjoy some food. Wrong. The moment you took a bite, some arrogant bastard would bump into you, insult you, or assume you were staring at their lover/treasure/spiritual beast. A bowl of rice could turn into your last supper within seconds. And North knew this better than anyone. Because he was the one who added these scenarios in the first place. "System?" North¡¯s voice cracked as he tried to drag himself under a nearby table to escape, his fingers slipping against the cold floor. "System, exit game. Exit. EXIT! FUCK! SYSTEM!" Yet, there was no system response to help him or give a simple tutorial. North cursed under his breath, trying not to scream. His pulse hammered in his ears. But what truly made his face drain of color wasn¡¯t the sheer absurdity of the situation¡ªit was the small dialogue box floating just above his head. His breath hitched as he craned his neck, reading the text in disbelief.
[Plot Armor: 0.1% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: In Debt Already] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
His stomach twisted. He knew what these stats meant. Everyone in the simulator world had them, hidden deep within the character''s code¡ªbackground data that dictated a character¡¯s fate. But the fact that he could see his own? That was bad. That was really bad. Then again, maybe it wasn¡¯t surprising. After all, he was real¡ªa flesh-and-blood player in a world of programmed idiots (hopefully). Still, the more he stared at those numbers, the more despair crawled up his spine like ice-cold fingers. Plot Armor dictated how much ¡®protagonist protection¡¯ someone had in dangerous situations. He was practically a discarded extra. Survival Tax was a brutal system function¡ªit didn¡¯t even exist in the original simulator. He programmed it in. Its purpose? To erase uninteresting, useless NPCs. If a character didn¡¯t contribute to the world¡¯s ¡®progression value,¡¯ they¡¯d either be wiped out or, more likely, thrown into some catastrophic death scenario. And Surreal Charm? A stat that determined how much absolute bullshit a person attracted. His was catastrophically high. His vision blurred for a moment. I should just off myself!!! The thought squeezed its way into his head, dark and suffocating. If he died first, he might escape this hell of a dream. Meanwhile, what had started as a simple meal stop had now escalated into a full-scale bloodbath. It began innocently enough¡ªsome overconfident young master had demanded a another young rogue visionary hand over his treasure. The rogue refused, obviously. The young master shouted, "YOU COURTING DEATH?!" The rogue replied with, "I¡¯LL KILL YOUR WHOLE BLOODLINE!" And then¡­ everyone got involved. North had barely crawled under the table when the explosion sent him crashing to the ground. The pain immediately jolted him awake and he was sure he wasn¡¯t dreaming or tripping badly on drugs anymore. It all felt too real to be a illusion or a prank. He instinctively curled into a defensive position, hoping that if he looked weak enough, the world might just ignore him. Simultaneously, the rules he had created flashed past his eyes to survive these kind of situations: Rule #1: Never get up too soon. Right now, five sword beams, three palm strikes, and a flying roasted duck passed inches over his head. Standing meant instant death. Rule #2: Never try to reason with anyone. A voice screamed above him, "YOU DARE STAND IN MY PATH?!" Someone else shouted, "FOOL! THAT TREASURE BELONGS TO ME!" Another man roared, "WHO EVEN ARE YOU?!" It didn¡¯t matter what the argument was about. No one ever actually listened in these situations. Rule #3: If you make eye contact with anyone, you''re now part of the fight. North kept his gaze firmly locked on the floor, watching wooden planks splinter apart from stray attacks. Then it happened. He made the ultimate mistake. While shifting his position slightly, his gaze accidentally landed on someone¡¯s foot. A second of horrible silence followed. Then¡ª
[Warning! You have accidentally stared at Young Master Zhao''s boots. This is considered a direct provocation.]
How the fuck was this a provocation?! North screamed internally. He had built these damn mechanics himself¡ªcrafted every ridiculous rule, every unfair twist. And now? Now he was the one suffering under them firsthand. Karma was a bitch. "HOW DARE A LOWLY WORM LIKE YOU LOOK AT ME?!" Young Master Zhao¡¯s voice boomed through the inn, an eruption of indignant fury so loud that even the drunken visionary face-down in his soup stirred. North¡¯s soul left his body. No, no, no¡ª A table exploded beside him, sending shattered bowls and steaming broth flying. A pair of chopsticks embedded themselves in the wall like throwing knives. Before North could even roll out of the way, a hand latched onto his collar and yanked him up like a misbehaving dog. Standing before him was a peak-grade asshole. Young Master Zhao, heir to some obscenely rich sect, draped in robes so expensive they could probably buy out a small kingdom. Golden phoenix embroidery shimmered across the silk, a sword strapped to his waist purely for decoration. His face, sculpted into permanent arrogant disgust, made it clear¡ªmerely existing near him was an offense punishable by death. "You¡­" Zhao sneered, his grip tightening. "Who are you to DARE look upon me?" North¡¯s mind raced. Think, think, think. Beg for forgiveness? Useless. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.Insult him back? Instant execution. Feign ignorance? Might work. Play dead? ¡­Potentially viable. Before he could pick, Zhao¡¯s fist was already flying. And that was when North¡¯s brain went into overdrive. He didn¡¯t have superpowers. He didn¡¯t have a golden finger. He didn¡¯t even have a broken system. What he did have was a lifetime of knowledge on how these scenarios played out. And so¡ªat the last possible second¡ªhe activated the most foolproof defense mechanism known to all men. He collapsed to the ground and screamed: "SPARE ME, SENIOR BROTHER! I AM BUT A LOWLY WORM!" The entire inn went silent. The guy mid-sword swing froze. Someone dropped their chopsticks. Even the bartender, who had likely seen every kind of chaos in his life, stared. Begging for mercy? Normal. But falling to the floor and screaming before the slap even landed? That was a level of pathetic even these visionaries weren¡¯t prepared for. Young Master Zhao¡¯s hand hovered mid-air, confusion flickering across his face. "Y-you¡­" He hesitated. "...This is too easy." A random guy in the corner murmured, "Is he really this weak?"
[Young Master Zhao has lost interest. He no longer sees you as worthy of slapping.]
North didn¡¯t move. Lying on the ground, arms covering his head, he simply waited. Waited for the attention to shift. Waited for a new fight to break out. And sure enough¡ª
[Warning: Jade Beauty "Liu Mei" has entered the inn. Conflict re-routing¡­]
A woman in white silk stepped inside. Instantly, every male visionary within five miles turned to look. And just like that¡ªNorth was forgotten. Young Master Zhao scoffed, brushing off his sleeve. "As I thought. Not even worth my time." Within seconds, a battle broke out over who would sit next to Liu Mei. Flying swords. Explosions. Young masters screaming in righteous fury. North exhaled. Slowly. "...I hate this world so much."
[You have survived the Inn Massacre.]
And with that, North crawled toward the exit, praying to whatever gods and immortals existed that he wouldn''t run into another idiot. The chaos inside the inn raged on behind him¡ªflying swords, explosions, young masters screaming in righteous fury. But at least, for now, he had crawled his way to temporary safety. The alley was dark, damp, and most importantly¡ªempty. No arrogant sect heirs, no berserk treasure hunters, no Jade Beauties accidentally triggering forced engagement plots. Just an overturned barrel, and a suspicious puddle that smelled like regret. North pressed himself against the wall, gasping for breath. "System?" His own voice sounded pathetically weak in the alley¡¯s silence. "System, exit game." Nothing. ¡°EXIT! FUCK! SYSTEM! Where the hell are you? Get me out of here!" Silence. Not even a flicker of response. But he knew it was still there. Because when he had nearly died on the floor of the inn, it had been whispering in his ear. Giving commentary. Did that mean¡­ that voice was only there to remind him while he suffered? To spectate? To rub salt into his wounds while he was bleeding out? Was it pay back for him torturing the npc for so many years and making this world a hell hole? His fingers curled into a fist, nails digging into his palm. His breathing slowed. And for the first time since getting dragged into this hell, a cold, terrible realization settled in his gut. What if there was no exit? What if¡ª
[Processing Query¡­]
His entire body froze. A chill crept up his spine, like a thousand invisible eyes suddenly turned their gaze upon him.
[Administrator "North" has attempted to issue a system command.] [Command Rejected.] [Error: "Exit Game" does not exist.] [Reminder: You are no longer a Administrator.] [You are part of the world.]
North¡¯s stomach dropped. Worse was coming true. There was no exit. No logout screen. No return button. The system wasn''t broken. However, the world was and he was to blame (probably). North slowly collapsed against the alley wall, his head falling into his hands. His fingers trembled. His mind raced. This was it. This was his fate now? He had built a nightmare world full of broken mechanics, sadistic plotlines, and unbalanced chaos. Torturing Npc, and now, this was a pay back. He was living in it, alive. His own absurd creation had swallowed him whole. And worst of all¡­ ¡­ "No, I need to get out." North clenched his fists. He had built this world. He had designed every broken mechanic, every absurd rule, every unfair scenario that had tormented players and NPCs alike. And that meant¡­ He could survive it. He could find a way out. Hope flickered in his chest, pushing back against the creeping despair. His mind, once clouded with panic, now sharpened with cold resolve. Lifting his head, he stared at the floating system dialogue box above him.
[Plot Armor: 6% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: Still In Debt] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
Plot Armor was dangerously low, meaning he could die at any moment. Survival Tax¡­ well, that just sounded ominous. It needed to be paid at the end of the day. But it was easy to earn: as long as he did something to move his personal story forward, it was continuously being earned. Surreal Charm at "catastrophically high" made him uneasy¡ªhigh charisma was usually good, but not in a world like this, too much could only mean disaster. It was weird experiencing everything first hand. He had played this on the simulator countless time, but still it felt very weird. However, it wasn¡¯t those numbers that truly stopped him in his tracks.
[Base Template: Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck]
North stared. His breath hitched. He swore. He was cursed from the start. He had spent years designing this world, balancing (or rather, unbalancing) how characters functioned inside it. "Base Template"¡ªthat was a pre-set narrative function that dictated a character¡¯s role in the world. And his? [Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] This was worse than he imagined. He was a walking calamity. It didn¡¯t matter where he went, even if it was just stepping out for tea. His Base Template ensured that something ridiculous, dangerous, or life-changing would happen. It was hardcoded into his existence. It explained everything¡ª He wasn¡¯t unlucky. He was designed to trigger events just by existing. And the worst part? Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH] His attraction to trouble was absurdly high meant that not only would he always be dragged into situations¡ªhe would be the center of them. Even if he did absolutely nothing. And Then There Was "Archetype"¡­ [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck] North¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Archetype" wasn¡¯t something he had ever programmed into player stats. This was new. A perk? A curse? A game function that only he had? [Newbie Luck] North¡¯s mind raced. In most games, Newbie Luck meant temporary beginner-friendly advantages. Better item drops. Random strokes of good fortune. Surviving things you had no right surviving. He looked at the bigger picture. If "Base Template" dictated his role¡­ and "Archetype" gave him traits¡­ then maybe¡­ Maybe he could change it. He needed more information. But first, he needed to survive long enough to figure it out. His mind clicked into survival mode. Find out more about "Archetypes." Test "Newbie Luck" to see how it really worked. Avoid triggering unnecessary "plots" by standing still for too long.
[Objective Updated: Gather Information on System Mechanics] [Reminder: Hostility Rate - 93.8%] [New Event Triggered: "Unwanted Attention."]
North¡¯s eyes widened. Before he could react, A shadow loomed over him. A voice, silky and dangerous, purred above him. "Oh, well¡­ Who''s hiding here?" North¡¯s stomach sank. Because even before turning his head, he already knew¡ª a voice echoed in his ears.
[Jade Beauty Encounter: Triggered.] [Due to "Surreal Charm" the encounter will escalate by 500%.]
North took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "Fuuuuuuu¡ª" 1.3 [You have officially triggered the Tutorial Dialogue.] "I¡¯m asking you who you are? And why are you hiding here?¡± The voice was soft yet commanding, laced with the kind of arrogance that could only belong to someone highborn and untouchable. North didn¡¯t even need to turn around to confirm it. [Jade Beauty Encounter: Confirmed.] He rolled his eyes. Of course. Another mess of his own making. He exhaled through his nose. Why even fight it at this point? His entire life had officially become a joke, and he was the punchline. At this rate, he wasn¡¯t even sure if he¡¯d survive the rest of the day. His eyes were already brimming with frustrated, exhausted tears, and he decided to use them. Might as well turn his misery into a survival strategy. "My family¡­ my family was killed by bandits¡­" North choked on his own words, his voice cracking. "We¡­ we were traveling to the city and were about to cross the mountains ¡­ and they attacked us. I was¡­ I was the only one who escaped¡­" His shoulders shook violently, and he let out a ragged breath, pouring every ounce of pain, frustration, and existential horror of his current reality into his performance. "I didn¡¯t even get a chance¡­ to bury their bodies!" His voice wavered. "I¡¯m all alone now¡­ the last of my family." The words left his lips so smoothly, so naturally, that even he was shocked by his own ability to bullshit. North almost snorted. But he had no time to break character. For added effect, he lifted his head slowly, allowing his teary, bloodshot eyes to lock onto the woman standing above him. And for the first time¡ªhe hesitated. The woman before him wasn¡¯t just beautiful. She was game-breaking. Her black hair fell in a cascade of silken strands, shimmering like moonlight on a still lake. Her eyes¡ªmoon like¡ªseemed to glow faintly in the dim alleyway. Her skin was flawless, her lips softly parted in shock, her robes¡ªdelicately embroidered with celestial motifs¡ªsuggested she wasn¡¯t just some random noblewoman. No. She was important. Which meant she was dangerous. North immediately corrected his mental state. This was not a good thing. She was either:
  1. A tragic heroine, destined to drag him into some revenge plot.
  2. A high-ranking sect disciple, meaning he was about five seconds away from being accused of something stupid.
  3. A future antagonist, who would one day remember this meeting and try to kill him over something equally stupid.
But for now? She simply stood there, her mouth slightly open, clearly at a loss for words. North also stayed silent. It was a risk to speak first. The golden rule of survival was never give anyone an excuse to suddenly declare you their sworn enemy. Instead, he let the awkward silence stretch. The mercury in the girl''s eyes flickered, shifting from shock to¡­ something unreadable. Her expression rippled, like a serene lake disturbed by a large, poorly thrown rock. She opened her mouth. Then closed it. North swallowed, waiting. "Ahh... I see." She nodded sagely, as if she had just unraveled the mysteries of the universe. A second passed. Then another. "Hand me all the money you have." She raised a delicate hand and shamelessly¡ªshamelessly¡ªasked. North¡¯s jaw dropped. His face drained of color so fast he briefly felt his soul leave his body. Huh? No. No, no, no, no. This wasn¡¯t in the script. His mind reeled. This wasn¡¯t how a Jade Beauty encounter worked! A proper Jade Beauty had two, TWO correct responses:
  1. Instantly fall in love and become hopelessly devoted.
  2. Gracefully storm off in disgust, possibly sending a murder squad after him.
But this?!
[Error: Character behavior outside expected parameters] [Template conflict detected] [Unable to predict scenario outcome]
North stared at her outstretched hand, blinking rapidly, as if his eyes were deceiving him. Shouldn¡¯t she be at least mildly offended by his tragic, peasant-tier sob story? Or, at the very least, react with the usual noble lady arrogance? And yet¡ªhere she was. Hand extended. Completely unfazed. Waiting for money like a patient yet professional loan shark. There was something very wrong with this Npc. The system was literally glitching. Had his presence here broken some critical world-setting parameter? Or¡ªwas the world already this broken before he got here? His existential crisis was abruptly cut short. "Stop overthinking." The girl clicked her tongue, impatient. "I promise, I''ll burn paper money for your family. Yes, I know how to do that.¡± She nodded, purposely acting innocently and cute(perhaps). ¡­ North almost choked on air. He gawked at her, his mind short-circuiting so hard he swore he heard static. Not even a hint of hesitation. No fake sympathy. No delicate, sorrowful sigh. Just¡ª"Give me your money, I¡¯ll burn some for your dead relatives." Like she was doing him a favor. This wasn¡¯t a tragic heroine. This was a damn highway bandit. North glanced at her again. The moon-like glow in her eyes. The otherworldly aura. The elegant, flowing robes that made her look like she belonged in an immortal sect, standing atop a floating sword, radiating divine energy. A celestial fairy. A goddess descended from the heavens. But, his gaze lowered to her shamelessly outstretched hand. The illusion shattered. This was no goddess. This was a corporate debt collector in disguise. Also, he definitely hadn¡¯t misheard. "Uhhh¡­" He licked his lips. "I¡ªI don¡¯t have money." Her piercing gaze narrowed. "Didn''t you just say your family was traveling to the city? That means you had money for travel expenses." North¡¯s left eye twitched. "¡­We got robbed?" he tried weakly. "Then you should have at least a copper or two hidden somewhere," she stated with complete certainty, as if he were lying to her face. ¡°How did you intend to survive in the city after escaping the bandits?¡± "I¡ªI planned to¡­" North struggled. "To¡­ um¡­ find work?" She scoffed. "You? Work?" Her eyes flicked over him, unimpressed. "With that face?" "Excuse me?!" North choked. Did¡­ did she really just say that? This woman was more of a villain than those mountain bandits in his eyes. "Too soft." She gestured vaguely at his entire existence. "No calluses. No scars. You¡¯re obviously not a laborer. Not a merchant either¡ªyour clothes are cheap and weird, where did you buy them from? And your posture? You''re holding yourself like an outsider." North felt personally attacked. Where was the melancholy? Where was the cold but elegant rejection? Where was the dramatic hair flip followed by her walking away into the mist? His brain refused to process.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. "What¡­" He exhaled slowly. "What kind of person are you?" "A smart one," she said, as if that should have been obvious. North had no words. He rubbed his temples. "You¡ª¡­ How¡ª¡­ What¡ª¡­" His internal suffering must have been written all over his face because she sighed dramatically, as if dealing with a troublesome child. ¡°Why is everyone I meet broke nowadays?¡± she muttered under her breath. Then, after a long pause, she clicked her tongue and looked him over again. "Alright, fine." She waved a hand, sounding almost annoyed at herself. "I''ll cover the cost myself. But next time, don¡¯t expect generosity." North twitched. Next time?! He was never meeting this scammer again.
[Affinity with ??? increased by +30.] [New Fate Tie Formed.]
"No. NO." North snapped his head up, alarmed. Fate Tie? That was not good. That meant this wasn¡¯t a one-time encounter. That meant this lunatic would cross paths with him again. That meant his Surreal Charm was once again ruining his life. Think, North. THINK. He needed to break the connection. Now. But, alas¡­.he had no solution to such a strange problem. Then he froze again. A notification box materialized in the corner of his vision, its text dripping with ominous implications:
[??? secretly used her ability. You now owe ??? a favor and a pot of gold.]
¡­What. North was left utterly speechless, he stood there, filled with existential crisis, as the mysterious but shameless beauty walked away, disappearing into the crowded street. "WHAT WAS THAT?! WHAT ABILITY? WHY AND HOW DO I SUDDENLY OWE HER A POT OF GOLD?!" That is insane¡­. North had never coded such ability in the game. He wasn¡¯t sure if he should be horrified or impressed. His fists clenched. He had survived young masters, a murder inn, and a system that somehow seemed liked wanted him to suffer. But somehow¡­Somehow this was the most mentally exhausting thing that had happened so far. He rubbed his face. This world was broken. But the real problem? So was he. Because as much as he wanted to pretend this never happened, a tiny, horrible part of him was morbidly curious. What kind of insane person had he just met? And how much worse was this world going to get? There was no other way to escape momentarily, so it seemed surviving was the only option left. But survival¡ªthat deceptively simple word¡ªmight be harder than leaping over a dragon''s head. And not just because every NPC in this world was certifiably insane. No, the real problem ran deeper, embedded in the very code he''d written. If this world still followed the rules of his simulator, then¡­ There was no story. No hero¡¯s journey. No pre-scripted main questline. Just parameters set in place, conflicts brewing until the world burned, and an endless loop of violence, ambition, and chaos until either: The entire simulator crashed due to errors. The server wiped itself. The game hit an unplayable state. That was it. That was how he designed it. And now he was inside it. Which meant¡­ There was nothing guiding him. No pre-determined fate. No "destined to be the protagonist" nonsense. Nothing.
[Survival Tax: Quite in debt] [Time Remaining: 6 Hours]
[Warning: Lack of coherent plot structure detected]
North clutched his already pulsating head, feeling like it might explode like an overripe melon. Was this why the system had given him that template¡ª[Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins]? Perhaps this was the system''s attempt to inject some sort of structure into his chaotic creation. At least, that''s what he told himself to keep from completely losing his mind. Level up, level up, level up... North smacked his fist against his palm as he paced back and forth in the small alley. The answer was obvious, wasn''t it? He needed what everyone in this world needed: a Fate Token. It was the only reliable way to level up in this world. He should know¡ªhe''d coded it that way himself. Fate Tokens, generated by the world itself, sprouting up whenever there was conflict, ambition, or a major shift in destiny. They weren¡¯t exactly hidden treasures or rare inheritance items, but they weren''t something you could just buy like vegetables from a market stall. Once used, they could transform anyone into a Visionary, opening the path to real power. Rob a rich family, Raid a clan, Auction, Join a sect, or enter a competition. North thought of many ways while the bitter irony of his situation hit him full force. This is what I put people through? This is what I forced thousands of players and NPCs to deal with? Every single "opportunity" was a death trap he''d personally designed. Now he was stuck in his own well of infinite chaos, desperately searching for a rope that he''d never bothered to program into existence. No need to cry. Yes, his life expectancy was lower than a cannon fodder disciple in a face-slapping arc. Yes, he was stuck in a world full of lunatics that followed rules even he barely understood. Yes, he was doomed to be at the center of chaos every time he moved. But¡­ Quest Giver Wei was still inside the inn. North knew the old man''s code intimately¡ªWei wouldn''t die even if an immortal vaporized him. He was like a constant in an equation, a normal Visionary given a job by the Heavens... or more accurately, by North himself. Though that distinction hardly mattered now. I might as well take advantage of this opportunity... Where am I? He lifted his head, finally taking a good look at the world around him. Pavilions rose into the sky like ancient trees, their sweeping roofs decorated with jade and gold that caught the morning light. Wind chimes hung from every corner, their soft rings mixing with the bustle below. Some buildings seemed to float on clouds, while others were carved straight into the mountain face behind the city. The streets beneath his feet were paved with something that sparkled¡ªfragments of nether stones, he realized. Centuries of footsteps had worn them smooth, creating paths that glowed softly in the shadows of the towering structures above. People filled the streets in endless streams. Disciples hurried past in their sect uniforms, trying to look important. Merchants shouted prices for pills and weapons that probably didn''t do what they claimed. Every now and then, someone would zip by overhead on a sword or cloud, causing the crowds to duck out of habit. A massive pagoda dominated the skyline, its golden spires disappearing into the clouds. Sect banners hung from buildings everywhere, each promising glory and power to anyone stupid enough to sign up for their next tournament. It must be a city, North thought, though that was like calling a dragon an oversized lizard. This has to be one of the major hubs of some big clan or sect. Not just a random sect village or some backwater town. And a place where rules existed¡­ sort of. A place where sect disciples, wandering visionary, merchants, and nobles all mixed together. And that meant: North exhaled. Step one: Get useful info. Step two: Survive long enough to use it. ¡­ North steeled himself and stepped through the wrecked doorway of the inn. If he could create this game, then he could damn well play it too. Otherwise, wouldn''t people laugh at him for being as useless as a rock? The smell of burnt wood and spilled alcohol filled the air. A few bodies (probably just unconscious, hopefully) were scattered across the floor. The earlier young master drama seemed to have escalated into a full-scale brawl between three different sects. But now silence reigned, broken only by workers cursing the ancestors of those who''d left this mess behind. And in the middle of it all... An old man sat behind a counter, casually sipping tea, completely untouched. Quest Giver Wei. A pillar of stability in an ocean of madness. His wrinkled hands lifted his cup with deliberate slowness, his eyes barely acknowledging the destruction around him. North rushed over, his heart leaping. Here was his chance. "Senior," he said breathlessly, dropping into a dramatic bow. "Please, enlighten this lowly one!" Old Wei finally looked up. His expression was the same as always¡ªneutral, unbothered, mildly inconvenienced by existence itself. "Ah. I never seen you before. Are you new?"
[You have officially triggered the Tutorial Dialogue.]
North tried to stay calm. Even though his "player/Administrator" status was revoked, Quest Giver Wei was still a system fixture. Meaning? There were pre-set questions that could force information out of him. [Ask About: Basic Cultivation?] [Ask About: City Laws?] [Ask About: Fate Tokens?] [Ask About: Trends of the World?] [Ask About: A Quest!] North¡¯s eyes locked onto one specific choice. [Ask About: Fate Tokens?] Bingo. He cleared his throat, channeling every bit of ''humble junior'' energy he could muster. "Senior, this lowly junior lacks the eyes to see the Mount Tai. I have heard of your reputation far and wide, and I implore you to give me some advice." 1.4 [Quest Updated] "Fate Token?" Old Wei set his cup of wine down slowly, deliberately¡ªthe practiced motion of a man who had seen too much, cared too little, and had mastered the art of being cryptic purely to frustrate others. North leaned forward. "Yes! Fate Token!" He nodded eagerly. "How do I get one?" Old Wei¡¯s calm, aged eyes studied North for a moment, gaze unreadable, as if weighing his worth. Then, after a long pause, he finally spoke. "Didn¡¯t your family provide for you?" He swirled the wine in his cup lazily. "If a child has any talent, their family would do everything in their power to buy one." Did he really look like someone with a family backing him?! Was his torn, dust-covered hoodie not enough of a hint? Did this scam artist of a tutorial NPC not see the absolute despair in his eyes?! Sigh! Focus. Adapt. Fast-forward. North didn¡¯t hesitate. "My family was poor. We couldn¡¯t afford one." The lie slipped out smoothly. No hesitation, no embellishment. He needed to fast-forward past this nonsense. Old Wei stroked his long white beard, deep in thought. "How old are you?" "Twenty-three." There was no point in lying about that. "Too old." North barely had time to process that before Old Wei shook his head with absolute finality. "There are many competitions held by the various clans in the city," he continued, "but the participant age must be under fifteen. With your age, they won¡¯t even let you in." North¡¯s brow furrowed. Shit. He hadn¡¯t even considered that his age might be a factor. Now, if he barged into a clan-held competition¡ªwhich, honestly, was already on his list of ideas¡ªnot only would they throw him out, they might even slap him on the way out for his audacity. "Oh, come on." North massaged his pulsating forehead. So what, just because he was twenty-three, he was now trash? Actually¡­ wait. Didn¡¯t he make this rule? His mind flashed back to all the times players complained in forums about how hard it was to start as an older character. [Player: Cultivator42]: "WTF, why do all sects reject you if you¡¯re over 18?! How am I supposed to level up?!" [Player: ScrewedOver]: "Bro, I made a 30-year-old dude, and the first NPC I met literally told me to go home and start a farm instead of try to become a Visionary." North wanted to punch himself. This was his own fault. Fine. If the normal method didn¡¯t work, he just had to find another way. [Alternative Methods to Get a Fate Token:]
  1. Steal One.
  2. Scam One.
  3. Find an Illegal Market.
  4. Trigger a Random Plot and Hope It Gives a Reward.
North sighed. So, robbery, deception, crime, or throwing himself into disaster. Fantastic. This world was basically forcing him into villainy. And honestly? He was starting to understand why villains existed. ¡°But¡­¡± What Quest giver Wei next said gave North a little hope. ¡°There is one way for you.¡± North eyes sparkled and he stared at Old Wei¡¯s face expectantly. ¡°I have a way for you to obtain a Fate Token. But in exchange, you must deliver something for me.¡± North¡¯s brain went on full alert. This was a Quest. He had designed a million of these "small errand" quests before. And 99% of them led directly into something dangerous. "...What do I have to deliver?" Wei tapped the wooden counter. "A letter."
[New Item Received: Sealed Letter from Quest Giver Wei]
North narrowed his eyes. "That¡¯s it?" "A simple delivery," Wei confirmed. "Take it to the Golden Feather Pavilion in the Inner City. Hand it to a man named Yun Jian. Once you do that, you will receive your Fate Token as your payment." North held the letter carefully. No bloodstains. No mysterious dark aura. Just an ordinary piece of parchment, carefully folded and sealed with wax. It was suspiciously normal.
[Quest Updated: Deliver Wei''s Letter to Yun Jian.] [Reward: A Fate Token (Allegedly).]
It seemed like a good start¡ªhoping everything would go quietly and peacefully from here. North could only hope as he pocketed the letter. Still, something about Quest Giver Wei nagged at him. The old man seemed to know more than he let on, which was concerning since North had written his original dialogue tree himself. North shook his head. That was a problem for future North. Right now, present North had bigger concerns. A quick glance at his stats confirmed what he already knew.
[Plot Armor: 6% - Critical Low] [Survival Tax: Still in Debt] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
[Base Template: Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins] [Installed Archetype: Newbie Luck]
Nothing had changed. Which meant trouble was still coming. But he could take cautious steps to limit its influence. So, with a deep sigh, North bowed slightly to Wei, spun on his heel, and made a sharp U-turn out of the inn¡ªpraying he wouldn¡¯t immediately crash into some lunatic on the way. The first thing he noticed upon stepping outside? The city was massive. Not just in size, but in design. The entire city was built into a mountain, the stonework perfectly carved and polished, its pathways shaped into terraced levels that ascended toward the heart of civilization. At its center, a colossal pagoda loomed above all, its golden spire catching the sunlight and sending out a faint, divine glow. There was no need for maps or guidance. Even without asking, North could tell: [The Inner City is near the pagoda.] It was the heart of power, where the richest, strongest, and most terrifying figures in the city lived. And if Yun Jian¡ªthe man he needed to deliver the letter to¡ªwas there, then North had no choice but to go straight toward the lion¡¯s den. As North walked through the stone-paved streets, he observed the people moving around him. Most wore robes and tunics, clearly favoring the traditional visionary aesthetic. Many carried weapons on their backs, as if it were completely normal to be armed at all times. Some of these people moved with purpose ad if on a hunt, mercenaries on a contract, clan disciples returning from missions. There were also the odd ones. A few wore thick, untamed beast hides, their savage appearance and scent of dried blood making it clear they lived more in wilderness than civilization. North didn¡¯t know what to think about that. More importantly, though¡ªhe was getting looks. People glanced at him, eyes lingering for just a second or two before moving on. No one attacked him outright, which was a huge win in his book. But he knew exactly why he was standing out. It was his clothes. Unlike the locals, who all wore either flowing robes, armored vests, or battle-ready attire, North was wandering around in a hoodie and jeans. He wasn¡¯t glaringly foreign, but he definitely didn¡¯t blend in perfectly, either. But it might also be because of how he looked, while outside the simulator, it was harder to make inside NPCs facial features altogether, but now he could tell pretty clearly they seemed to have somewhat a mix of asian and caucasian features mixed together with too many generations. Most of these people had pale skin and strong muscles, weathered by cold and mountain air, but this also could be due to them living in harsh environment and fighting for survival. And then there was him. His features weren¡¯t so bizarre that he looked alien, but he was still different enough to be noticeable. North sighed. This was fine. Maybe. After all, this was just one city. Maybe there were other places in this world where people looked more like him. Maybe. But for now? He had bigger problems. Like delivering this letter without getting stabbed. Or worse¡ªaccidentally getting involved in another damn plot. He forcefully pushed the worries to the back of his mind. Instead, he focused on gathering other important info, like how there were carriages rolling on the main road, but it wasn''t what made him glance curiously. It was that some people were travelling on beasts, like a huge snake with a small pavilion on its back that slithered too fast on the road, its scales catching sunlight like polished jade. A toad the size of a small house jumped quite high and far, its passengers seemingly unbothered by the stomach-churning leaps. A few people were travelling on white winter wolves, their fur rippling with frost even in the warm air.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. His gaze shifted to the bustling merchant shops lined up along the long street. Even in his own world, a city''s true heart was always its market. And here? It was a fascinating blend of the ordinary and the extraordinary. Streams of both men and women weaved in and out of the shops, their movements fluid, confident. The voices of merchants boomed through the air: "Rare Qi-Infused Silk! Lighter than air, stronger than steel!" "Beast Cores! Absorb the essence, strengthen your Imaginary Island!" "Genuine Fire Serpent Meat! Good for health, extends longevity!" He wasn¡¯t sure how much of it was legitimate. He was, however, very sure he did not want to eat anything that once belonged to a fire serpent. One of the subtler details he began to notice was the variation in clothing. Women''s attire itself was interesting, he inferred many of them wore clothes styled accordingly to their class or status. Normal mortal women wore simple long skirts and their dress was mostly long, with a wide hem. The cuffs and stitching of the dress carrying exquisite embroidery of floral, bird and animal, or other auspicious patterns¡ªprotection charms and luck-drawing formations woven subtly into the designs. Their were also young ladies who seemed to belong to clans or big families, their clothes were mostly similar but with colorful and exaggerated skirts and dress styles. Golden threads that actually contained real gold, silks dyed with crushed spirit gems, hems that floated an inch off the ground. They all looked quite good honestly, both in appearance and style, and North had to curb himself to not stare for more than a quick look lest he get entangled with something he wanted to avoid. He''d coded enough "you dare look at my daughter?" scenarios to know better. One wrong glance could trigger a dozen young masters appearing out of thin air, each demanding satisfaction for this grievous insult to their sect''s honor. Though a thought appeared silently and unbridled at the back of his head, given his charm was catastrophically high, would all ladies find him terrifyingly attractive? His system status flashed in warning at the very thought, so he gave up on the thought immediately. Well... that was only time would tell. And hopefully that time wouldn''t come with sword beams and engagement ultimatums. Anyway, so far, the city seemed structured. The main roads were filled with moving carriages and beasts. The marketplace was packed, bustling with business, trade, and opportunity. Wealth and status were reflected in clothing, movement, and presence. And best of all, he could understand and speak in the common tongue of this world, which was kinda a huge relief itself. It took him quite a long time to realize that he wasn''t speaking English with the shameless girl or Quest Giver Wei. The words flowed naturally from his tongue, as if he''d spoken them all his life. He inferred that this simulator was too real and too detailed. He also quietly wondered if these people were really NPCs, but that could only time and more research would tell. Each person he passed had depths in their eyes. For now, he decided to focus on gaining powers, but the thought sent another jolt of ecstasy through his nerves. How wonderful! He dreamed of flying on clouds like many Visionaries he had seen on his way above the buildings, their robes billowing in winds as they soared past. But he immediately curbed his mind, lest he cursed his luck. As North walked deeper into the city, the streets became wider, cleaner, and significantly more guarded. That was his first warning. His second warning? The checkpoint. North stopped dead in his tracks. Up ahead, four armored guards stood at attention, their spears gleaming under the sun, their eyes cold and unreadable. A long line of people waited before them, each holding small jade identification tablets and handing over two nether coins. North¡¯s face scrunched up immediately. Yeah. Just when he had started to feel too comfortable, the world slapped him with a paywall. He clicked his tongue, glancing around. He ran through his mental options. If this was still a simulation game¡­ If he had player access¡­ There were ways to glitch the system. [Infinite Coin Exploit] [Bypass Guards] [Steal an ID] North licked his lips. "Alright. Step one¡­ open terminal." He cleared his throat. "System. Open console." Nothing. "System. Run admin commands." Silence. "...System. You absolute bastard, answer me." Okay. Fine. He was in the world now. He wasn¡¯t a player anymore. No commands. No admin access. Just pure suffering. North exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Okay. Think, dumbass. What¡¯s your next move?" He scanned the checkpoint again. The guards were serious. No way he could just walk through. The line moved at a slow but steady pace. People were checking in, paying, and passing through. The jade ID tablets were being carefully examined. No bribing. No faking it. So¡­ alternatives. [Option 1: Find A Job & Earn Money Legitimately] [Option 2: Steal An ID From Someone In Line] [Option 3: Sneak In By Hiding On A Carriage] [Option 4: Wait For A Random Event To Happen] North bit his lip. He didn¡¯t want to risk a crime. And he didn¡¯t have time to work an honest job. Which meant¡­ [New Strategy: Observe & Wait For A Stupid Opportunity.] He took a casual step back, blending into the crowd. And then he waited. Because in this world¡­ All he had to do was stand still long enough¡­ And a plot would come crashing down on him. North sighed. "...Bring it on." ¡­ "Brother Li, you must listen!" The voice belonged to a round, heavyset young man, red-faced and flustered, speaking with the kind of intensity only a true brother-in-arms could have. His robes were slightly disheveled, as if he had rushed here just to deliver this warning. His face was earnest, his eyes filled with frustration and helplessness. "That Yue girl¡ªshe''s not what you think!" You have to listen to me, I dug into her background myself!" Standing opposite him was his friend. And this was where things got strange. Because the other man was¡­ perfect. North¡¯s brows furrowed. The handsome young man standing there had a presence that was almost blinding. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His white robes flowed with a natural grace, like the wind itself favored him. His face was striking, sharp but refined, with an air of righteousness. Even his hair looked like it had been combed by destiny itself. North had seen characters like this before. This was the kind of MC template he had seen a thousand times. A "Heaven¡¯s Chosen Protagonist" type. Someone who should be fated for greatness. Someone who should have a loyal fatty friend by his side, supporting him until the very end. And yet¡­ The script was going wrong. The fatty friend clenched his fists, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Brother Li, I¡¯m not saying this to hurt you! I just¡­ I just don¡¯t want to see you used!" His voice wavered slightly, but he forced himself to continue. "I looked into her past myself. That woman¡ªyou think she¡¯s pure, that she loves you. But she¡¯s just using your name to rise in status!" Li froze, his eyes darkening. But the fatty didn¡¯t stop. "I even found out¡ª" He hesitated, lowering his voice, but North could still hear. "I heard she¡¯s been involved with the Fourth Young Master of the Lustrous Sky Clan. There are rumors that she even spent the night in his courtyard!" Li¡¯s entire expression twisted. "What¡­ did you just say?" His voice was low, dangerous. The fatty swallowed nervously but stood his ground. "I¡¯m saying¡ªshe¡¯s been scheming this whole time! I¡¯m not saying this to hurt you, Brother Li! I care about you! I think of you as my closest friend, so I can¡¯t just watch you be¡ª" "ENOUGH!" Li¡¯s roar echoed down the street, stunning even the passing pedestrians. "Yue Lingxi is pure as jade! How dare you spread such filthy rumors?" Li''s aura flared, making nearby ground shake like an earthquake. "If anyone else spoke such words, their head would leave their shoulders!" "I¡ª" Li''s next words came out cold as winter frost. "If you truly see me as a brother, you''ll never speak of this again. Never." He turned sharply, robes swirling. "I thought you''d be happy for me. I thought you''d understand what finding true love means." The fatty¡¯s face fell. "Brother Li¡­" His voice cracked slightly, but he forced a weak smile. "You really believe me so small-hearted?" Li didn¡¯t respond. Perhaps he could bring himself to think anything bad about the woman he loved crazily. So, he simply turned away, his white robes fluttering behind him as he stormed off toward the Inner City gates. The fatty stood there, fists trembling at his sides. He looked like he wanted to call out. To chase after him. But in the end¡­ He didn¡¯t. His shoulders slumped, and he lowered his head in disappointment. For a moment, North''s focus narrowed entirely on the scene before him¡ªthe heartbreak, the shattering of bonds, the way the fatty stood there, fists clenched, watching his closest friend walk away. Then... something changed. A bright pink crystal suddenly appeared above both of their heads, pulsing with an violet glow that only North could see. His breath caught in his throat as the system message flashed:
[Vision Unlocked: Narrative Roles Identified]
Above Fatty''s head, a title shimmered into existence:
[The Fatty Best Friend] [Status: Template Destabilizing] [Warning: Role Deviation Detected]
And above the walking-off protagonist?
[The Heaven-Favored Protagonist] [Status: Alignment Shifting] [Warning: Plot Armor Fluctuating]
North froze. "What... the hell?" His first instinct was to panic. Why was he suddenly seeing this? Why now? Then, his mind kicked into gear. This perhaps might be his golden finger, seeing their Character Templates. How bad! He was immediately disappointed. What was supposed to do with this knowledge? It had never displayed these "Character Templates" before. But now? It was showing their roles like floating text above each person¡ª"Guard Type B," "Minor Noble Family Young Master," "Common Street Vendor." Information he could''ve guessed just by looking at their clothes and bearing. The system wasn''t telling him anything useful. Still, North reasoned, if he could see "Character Templates," then he could theoretically predict who mattered in this world. Who was destined for greatness. Who was doomed to fail. And who was being rewritten in real time. A guard might have "Future Sect Leader" hidden in their template, or a beggar might carry "Hidden Dragon" in their code. But the problem was... What the hell was he supposed to do with this? Pushing the new problem aside, he had three options: [Option 1: Follow Li, the Protagonist] [Option 2: Approach the Fatty] [Option 3: Leave and Pretend He Saw Nothing] North exhaled sharply, glancing between the two figures. If this was just a normal broken friendship, he wouldn''t care. But this? This was a shift in fate itself. And if fate was shifting, then what else was changing? He could play it to his advantage, maybe even learn how to shift his own template. North tightened his grip on Wei''s letter. The paper crinkled, reminding him of his precarious position in this world. "Ah. I really don''t want to get involved." The words came out as a whisper, even as his mind raced through the possibilities. Getting tangled in protagonist drama was exactly the kind of thing that got NPCs killed in spectacular ways. 1.5 [Temporary Job Acquired: Festival Worker] North was left in a dilemma regarding how to approach Fatty before he stormed off like the protagonist. Moreover, he didn¡¯t want to anger this Npc for no reason. But, he also remembered Npc with Fatty Character Templates supposed to be friendly with everything. Still, this was tricky. He couldn¡¯t just walk up and bluntly ask, "Hey, wanna tell me your entire life story?" That was the kind of stupidity that got people killed. At the same time, letting Fatty leave without learning anything might mean missing a crucial opportunity. So, he had to play it smart. North took a breath, adjusted his posture, and casually stepped a little closer, making sure to keep his presence non-threatening. The key was to not make it seem like he was forcing a conversation. He tilted his head, looking up at the sky with a tired sigh. "Man¡­ friendships are harder than fighting a demon beast sometimes." It was casual, just a passing comment, as if he was just thinking out loud. Fatty, who had been staring at the ground with his fists clenched, twitched slightly. He turned his head, eyes narrowing, as if trying to decide whether to respond. A second passed. Then another. And then¡ª "Ha!" Fatty let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "You don¡¯t even know the half of it." North kept his expression neutral, but internally, he was grinning. Hook, line, and sinker. "Yeah?" North gave a light chuckle, acting as if he wasn¡¯t totally invested. "I mean, people get blinded by emotions all the time. No matter how much you warn them, they only see what they want to see." Fatty froze mid-breath. His face twisted, eyes flashing with frustration, before he suddenly exhaled sharply, like he had been holding it all in. "Exactly!" He turned toward North fully now, voice rising. "That¡¯s exactly it! You try to help, you tell them the truth, and what do you get? Accusations. Betrayal. Disrespect." North shrugged, keeping his tone light. "So, what? You just let him go?" Fatty¡¯s expression flickered. His lips parted slightly, as if about to argue, but then he shut them just as quickly. North saw it instantly. That tiny moment of doubt. He wasn¡¯t fully convinced that he had done the right thing. Fatty let out a heavy breath, looking at the sky. "I should¡¯ve yelled more at him," he muttered. "Tried harder to knock some sense into him." North didn¡¯t respond immediately. Instead, he let Fatty sit with his own thoughts. The silence stretched just long enough for Fatty to feel the weight of his words. Then, North spoke again, carefully choosing his words. "Maybe," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Or maybe you already did your part. You gave him the truth. What he does with it? That¡¯s on him." Fatty¡¯s eyes flickered again. "...You really think so?" North gave a half-smile. "I don¡¯t know your whole story, but I¡¯ve seen it before. Some people have to learn the hard way." Fatty was silent for a moment. Then, he sighed, rubbing his face. "Maybe," he muttered. "But it still pisses me off." North chuckled. "That just means you care." Fatty let out a dry laugh. "Yeah. That¡¯s the problem." This was his chance. Now that Fatty was talking freely, North could ease into the real question. He glanced at him, keeping his tone casual. "So¡­ what do you think happens next?" Fatty snorted. "He¡¯ll keep chasing after that girl, obviously. Probably end up humiliating himself in the end." North nodded slowly. "But what about you?" Fatty crossed his arms, inhaled deeply, and looked toward the sky. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across his troubled face. A cool mountain breeze carried the distant chimes of bells from the shops. "No." His voice was quiet but resolute. "I can''t just let things go like this." Fatty clenched his fists, "I need to do something about Yue Linxi." North''s mind immediately flashed through his mental files containing recent info. Yue Linxi. A Jade Beauty archetype. The kind he''d coded to be walking catastrophes. North exhaled. "Alright," he said slowly. "Then what''s your grand plan, Brother¡­?" Fatty''s grin was sudden and sharp. "The Festival of Seasons." North blinked. "...What?" "What? You don''t know about Festival of Seasons?" Fatty''s eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Are you new here?" North rubbed the back of his head, feigning embarrassment. "Just arrived today in the city with my family from the village to start a new life. So I don''t know much about the city yet." "That confirms it," Fatty looked at his face then at his strange clothes. His gaze lingered on North''s hoodie with a mix of curiosity and mild disdain. "Anyway," he turned toward the bustling street, "I''ll tell you, it''s not a secret." He pointed toward the crowd surging toward the checkpoint. "Look at everybody trying to enter the inner city to get glimpses of geniuses." The crowd indeed seemed more excited than usual. Disciples in various sect robes pushed forward, while merchants hawked talismans and spirit fruits from makeshift stalls. Above, more Visionaries flew past using various methods such as flying beasts or rich used white clouds, their robes billowing in the winds. "The week is the Festival of Seasons," Fatty continued, his voice taking on a storyteller''s cadence. "All the famous young Visionaries will be gathered in the Inner City at Plum Gardens to trade pointers." North¡¯s brain immediately went into overdrive. Oh, this was not good (for him). Fatty, unaware of North¡¯s internal crisis, continued explaining. "The Festival is important because it''s hosted by the Lustrous Sky Clan." He gestured toward the golden pagoda piercing the clouds. "They control the entire mountain and nearby region and resource points. Their word is law here." North nodded slowly, listening very carefully. "That''s why young masters from various clans, tribes, and sects are pouring in from all over. See those ships anchored in the sky?" Fatty pointed to massive vessels floating among the clouds, their hulls decorated with clan insignias. To be honest, the sight of the magnificent ship floating above the clouds alone caused him to stop breathing. "Each one carries another faction''s prideful genius." To the North, this sounded like a prime disaster waiting to happen. "At the end of the Festival," Fatty continued, his voice dropping lower, "there''s the Four Seasons Banquet." North frowned. "Sounds fancy." "It''s not just fancy," Fatty said seriously. "It''s a competition. The Lustrous Sky Clan picks four people from the young generation based on their strength, skills, talent, and other qualifications." He held up four fingers, each one trailing a faint wisp of qi. "These four are given the titles of Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn." North raised a brow. "What''s the point?" Fatty shrugged, but his casual gesture belied the weight of his words. "Influence. Prestige. Being chosen as one of the Four Seasons basically guarantees a high position in the Visionary world. It means you''re recognized as one of the strongest and most talented Visionaries of your generation. Last year''s Winter was already challenging elders one level above him." North slowly processed that information, watching another flying ship dock above the city. "So," he said, thinking aloud, "the strongest young Visionaries from all the top factions are going to one location to fight for titles, glory, and recognition." North was about to wash his hands of this entire situation until Fatty dropped the final piece of information. "Yue Linxi will definitely attend." North glanced at the pink crystal above Fatty''s head. Fatty''s expression darkened. "She''s not just beautiful. She''s powerful. And she has backing. She''s the kind of person who wouldn''t miss an opportunity like this." He gritted his teeth, "She''s got something planned. I know it. I don''t know what it is yet, but it involves Li Yi. And if it''s a scheme that could hurt him¡­I want to stop it before it happens." North exhaled slowly. He had been expecting Fatty to throw away his friendship with Li Yi. But instead, he was still looking out for him. Even after being rejected. Even after being pushed away. Even after knowing Li Yi wouldn''t believe him. Fatty still wanted to protect him. North''s lips twitched slightly. "Man," he muttered under his breath. "These NPCs really do live up to their trope." ¡­ After that, Fatty seemed to make up his mind and suddenly started sauntering toward the line where guards were checking identification and collecting fees for entrance. North could only watch his broad back disappear into the crowd, the realization slowly dawning that Fatty hadn''t even asked him anything. Well, that''s awkward... At least he should have thanked me if not asking me to come with him. Tsk! Tsk! Acting too smart never helps anyone. North¡¯s face continued to fall as he saw Fatty pull out a jade identity slip and hand over two nether coins like it was nothing. The guards barely even looked at him. The moment his payment was taken, Fatty was waved through the checkpoint like a normal, law-abiding citizen. North felt his eye twitch violently. The pink crystal above Fatty''s head flickered once before disappearing into the crowd. North smacked his hand against his thigh in frustration. Now he really needed to find some other method to get in. "I actually thought befriending him would help," he muttered under his breath. He had genuinely believed that maybe, just maybe, Fatty would at least casually gesture him over or come up with some convenient excuse to bring him along. But no. Fatty wasn¡¯t that stupid. He wasn¡¯t about to risk his own pass for some random guy he just met. And honestly? North couldn¡¯t blame him. I wouldn¡¯t help me either. Still, North felt these Npcs acted too smart. He walked back to the wall, leaning against the cool stone. Now, he was back to where he started. Waiting for something to happen. And given his Base Template¡­ Something would definitely happen. He just had to be patient. Also, the Festival of Seasons did intrigue him; a chance to see how his NPC geniuses performed in person. Of course, keeping himself safe wouldn''t be a problem if he just tread carefully. The predicaments might be falling from the sky for me, but if I sidestep at the right moment, I should be able to stay relatively safe¡­ Though, his current situation was far from ideal¡ªno home, no proper clothes to blend in with the crowd, and no resources. His problems were piling up.
[Warning: Survival Tax Due in 4 Hours]The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
He ignored the glaring red warning and watched another group of young masters stride through the checkpoint, their robes pristine and jade slips glinting in the sun. Samewhile mentally organizing his priorities. [PROBLEMS] ? Checkpoint Access ¨C No ID, No Money. ? No Food ¨C Would starve soon. ? No Shelter ¨C Can¡¯t sleep on the streets forever. ? Clothes Stand Out ¨C His hoodie and jeans weren¡¯t helping. All of it boiled down to one thing. [I Need the Damn Money.] But for now, first thing¡¯s first. Getting past the damn checkpoint. North exhaled sharply. "Alright," he muttered. "Time to get creative." He straightened his posture, rolled his shoulders, and casually scanned his surroundings. Something would happen soon. It always did. Now¡­ the question was what kind of disaster would show up first. ¡­ A line of supply carts was entering through a side gate, considerably less grand than the main entrance. Workers hauled crates and baskets, while merchants argued with guards over documentation. "You want how many Rain coins per crate?" A worker''s voice rose above the general clamor. "Not worth the risk! That stuff makes normal people sick!" North''s attention sharpened. The merchant, a round-faced man in expensive but practical robes, was growing increasingly frustrated as workers walked away from his cart. "It''s just festival decorations!" the merchant called out. "Simple spirit-infused lanterns! They''re perfectly safe!" Festival decorations? North straightened. Now that was something worth paying attention to. Immediately, North¡¯s brain clicked into place. [This is my chance.] If he played this right, he could get paid while also getting inside the festival. Now, he just needed to approach without looking suspicious. North took a deep breath, schooling his features into a mix of mild curiosity and clueless commoner. Then, he carefully approached the merchant. "Uh, excuse me," he said, carefully pitching his voice to sound just a little hesitant. The merchant supervisor spun around, his expression already one of annoyance¡ªuntil he noticed North. North had deliberately kept his hoodie pulled slightly up, shadowing his features just enough to make himself seem like an average laborer. "Who are you?" the merchant demanded, eyeing him suspiciously, especially given North''s face and his strange clothes. North scratched the back of his head, pretending to be nervous. "I''m new to the city," he said. "I overheard you needed help?" The merchant scowled. "And why should I hire some random passerby?" North shrugged, keeping his expression humble. "I¡¯m just a commoner from a village near the mountains," he lied smoothly. "Came to the city hoping to make some money. I don¡¯t have much, so I¡¯m not picky about the job." He spread his hands in a non-threatening gesture. "Just thought if you were still short on workers, I could lend a hand and early some for my survival." The merchant hesitated. North could see the internal calculations happening. Finally, the merchant let out a deep sigh. "Fine," he said, rubbing his forehead. "As long as you don¡¯t run away screaming. Can you read the warning talismans?" North nodded, the warning talismans were simple color-coded tags to prevent workers from mixing incompatible stuff. "I can manage that much."
[Temporary Job Acquired: Festival Worker]
"Pay is at the end of the day," the merchant continued, rubbing his temples. "We¡¯re handling decorations for some of the Festival of Seasons¡ªspecifically, the hanging lanterns and spirit inscriptions in the Plum Gardens. Young masters from every nearby major sect and clans will be there ¨C can''t have the place looking shabby.." As if to emphasize his point, a flying ship drifted overhead, its sails emblazoned with the crest of some distant sect. More people were arriving for the festival. ¡°Oh,¡± North was a little surprised that his wish had come true so early. He mused: [Current Funds: 0] [Soon-to-be Funds: More than 0] "What''s the pay?" North asked, keeping his tone neutral. The merchant grunted, barely sparing him a glance. "Five Nether Coins per shift." North paused. Five. That sounded small. Very small. He had no idea how much a Nether Coins was actually worth, but from the merchant¡¯s indifferent tone, it probably wasn¡¯t much. Could he even buy food with that? Would he end up working for an entire day just to afford half a steamed bun? His stomach twisted at the thought. But reality was cruel¡ªhe needed money. Any money. If he wanted to pass through the checkpoint, he had no other choice. North exhaled sharply, pushing down his doubts. "I''ll do it." The merchant eyed him for another second, "Good," he said. "Get to work, I don¡¯t pay people standing doing nothing. The faster this gets done, the faster I stop losing money." North smiled wryly and made his way toward the group of workers gathered beside a dozen or so massive carriages, each one loaded to the brim with goods. Some of the men were busy soothing restless beasts, keeping them from getting spooked by the bustling checkpoint. Others stood around idly, arms crossed, waiting for the tedious documentation process to be completed This is my life now. A once-successful programmer, now reduced to general labor. What a drop. North fell in line with two dozen other workers, trudging forward as they began passing through the checkpoint. He had been tense the entire time, half-expecting some overzealous guard to stop him, demand identification, or worse¡ªask for a name that didn¡¯t exist in the system. But no. The workers belonged to the merchant¡¯s party, and apparently, that was enough. No lists. No checks. Just a wave-through. The merchant had cleared everything in advance, a small miracle in a world that seemed designed to screw him over at every turn. North sighed. And here I was, overthinking everything The moment they crossed the checkpoint, North noticed a difference. It was subtle at first¡ªjust a change in the air, the feeling of the space around him. But the deeper they walked, the more obvious it became. The streets were spotless. Unlike the outer city, where dirt roads were uneven and littered with the dust of trade and travel, the streets here were smooth, paved with polished stone that reflected the sunlight faintly. The architecture was grander, more refined. Multi-story residences stood tall, their rooftops curved elegantly, adorned with ornate carvings of celestial beasts and flowing clouds. The air smelled different. The smoky aroma of street vendors and the musty scent of cheap taverns were gone. Instead, he caught hints of burning incense, medicinal herbs, and faint floral perfumes. This wasn¡¯t a market district anymore. This was a residential area and also the inner section of the Lustrous Sky Clan. Despite the shift in environment, there was still a steady flow of people on the road. Clan or sect disciples in long robes moved in small groups, carrying jade slips and scrolls. Merchants with well-fed bellies rode past in luxurious carriages, their servants walking beside them. Armored guards patrolled the roads, their spears polished, their postures upright and disciplined. Unlike the guards at the checkpoint, these ones were clearly trained professionals. Occasionally, a young master or noble lady would stride by, accompanied by bodyguards and attendants. Meanwhile, No one loitered. No one yelled out sales pitches. Even the servants of noble houses carried themselves with a sense of order. As North walked quietly, he let his gaze drift casually while keeping his ears open. The workers around him were relaxed, but chatty. And people who talked freely and comfortably often let valuable things slip. "¡ªlost the entire shipment," a worker ahead of him muttered. "Third one this month." "The beast tide''s getting worse," another replied, shifting his crate nervously. "My cousin works the western routes. Says they lost thirty percent of their goods this season. The wild beasts are acting strange, moving in larger groups." "Heard it''s because of that thing the Wang Clan''s young master stirred up in the Dark Forest." "Shh! Don''t talk about Young Master Wang. He''s here for the festival, you know." The conversation shifted as they passed a particularly impressive mansion. "Speaking of young masters, you hear about the new genius from Frost Peak?" "The one who became Rank 4 Visionary before turning twenty three? Yeah, they say he''s favored for the Winter position." "No, no, I mean the really interesting one. That girl who came out of nowhere. Beat three inner disciples of the Azure Cloud Sect in succession." "Oh, Ming Yue? They say she uses some kind of sound technique. Makes people explode just by humming." One of the older workers, a man with graying hair, chuckled. "You lot are too focused on the obvious choices." The younger workers looked at him curiously. "What do you mean, Old Liu?" The older worker smirked. "I mean, everyone¡¯s talking about the same clan heirs and sect geniuses. But there¡¯s another name floating around." The men leaned in slightly. "Who?" The older worker grinned. "Some nobody rogue Visionary from the western territories. No big background, no major affiliations." "Then why bring him up?" "Because," Old Liu said with amusement, "he¡¯s been challenging sect disciples and beating them. One after another. And not just any disciples¡ªinner disciples." That got everyone¡¯s attention. North¡¯s interest piqued as well. "Name?" one of the workers asked. Old Liu grinned. "His name is Ji Ruohan." Suddenly, a commotion up ahead drew their attention. A young man stood in their path, hands clasped behind his back, staring at the setting sun. His white robes seemed to absorb and reflect sunlight, creating a subtle aurora around his form. "That''s Young Master Jiang," someone whispered. "They say he became Rank 4 Visionary through sword images." North studied the newcomer young master carefully. Pure sword Image? This Jiang talked with the owner of the merchant for a few moments before quietly departing. "Keep up!" the merchant called from ahead. "We need to have everything in place before the moon rises!" ¡­ ¡­ Meanwhile, North compiled all the info he had heard so far: The wilderness is becoming more dangerous. Why? The Festival of Seasons is bringing in monsters, not just noble heirs. Many random rogue Visionaries are making waves. North mentally stored the information. At worst? It was just idle gossip. At best? It could help him predict who to avoid¡ªor who might become a problem later. Finally after thirty minutes of walking, the merchant party seemed to reach their final location. North had expected the Plum Gardens to be grand, considering it was the main venue of the Festival of Seasons, but what he saw was beyond anything he had imagined. It wasn¡¯t just a place. It seemed like a different world in itself. The moment they stepped past the outer boundary, the sky above them darkened. But it wasn¡¯t the gloom of night. It was a celestial expanse, a sky filled with glistening silver stars and deep purple hues, as if they had walked into a permanent twilight. A soft glow shimmered along the edges of the horizon, casting the entire garden in an dreamlike glow. North blinked. "Okay. This definitely doesn¡¯t look like a Garden." It was some kind of controlled domain. And considering who was hosting this event?
[Blessed Land Detected: Lustrous Sky Clan''s Celestial Mirage]
North inhaled slowly, compiling the new info provided by the system. "So they made their own sky, huh?" A simulated world, inside another simulated world. How Odd! His eyes drifted upward, a colossal rock island, floating effortlessly in the sky above them. From its edge, a majestic waterfall cascaded downward, glowing faintly in the twilight radiance. The water didn¡¯t fall straight down. Instead, it moved with purpose, gently spilling from one floating miniature island to the next, creating a cascading network of silver-blue streams that eventually merged into a single, crystal-clear pond. From there, the water twisted into a thin stream, weaving serpent-like through the Plum Gardens, feeding into smaller creeks and pools. Cherry plum trees lined the winding paths, their branches heavy with blossoms that never seemed to fully fall. Instead, petals danced on air currents that moved with purposeful rhythm. Behind them, bamboo forests stretched into impossible distances, their green stalks occasionally chiming against each other with musical notes that seemed to harmonize with the falling water. Overhead, dancers rehearsed for the evening''s festivities, their bodies gliding through the air on invisible paths. The dancers moved like fairies, their silk robes trailing behind, their faces bearing the kind of beauty that made one unable to look away. North¡¯s jaw tightened slightly. The sheer power and control it would take to maintain something like this? The Lustrous Sky Clan wasn¡¯t just rich. They were showing off their power to the world. He also couldn¡¯t deny the sheer breathtaking beauty of it all. "Stop gawking!" the merchant and other bosses barked at the worker. "Everyone, remember your location and don¡¯t get lost. Also, we''re here to work, not admire." The relaxed atmosphere vanished. The workers immediately straightened, shifting into serious, no-nonsense mode. No chatting. No wandering. Just work. North picked up a crate like everyone else, blending into the crowd. And as he carried it inside, his thoughts swirled. Members of the Lustrous Sky Clan seemed to supervise the preparations, their robes marked with clouds that actually moved. A young woman with jade ornaments in her hair directed workers with graceful gestures. "The Winter pavilion needs frost essence lanterns," she called out. "Summer pavilion requires solar crystal arrays. Do not mix them.¡± North carefully placed frost essence lanterns along a path as he was directed. But, the gardens seemed to stretch forever, each turn revealing new wonders. A grove where glowing butterflies danced between trees dripping with spirit dew. A meditation area where stones floated in perfect formation. A tea house built over a pond where spirit fish drew patterns of good fortune with their movements. Some workers whispered prayers before handling particularly potent decorations. A group of dancers passed overhead, rehearsing a complex formation dance. Their movements left trails of light in the air, forming characters of blessing and fortune that lingered before fading. Their bodies and faces were indeed quite exquisite, as if they had been cherry picked. His thoughts trailed off as he watched nearby a young man casually adjust a few runes inside a formation with a gesture, shifting the flow of a nearby stream to better match the garden''s rhythm. As one job finished, the bosses began directing them to new areas, their voice now hushed with appropriate reverence. Night would fall soon¡ªthe real night, beyond this twilight¡ªand everything had to be perfect. After all, the gardens would host the most talented young Visionaries of the age. North placed another lantern, watching it suddenly glow in bright blue light with wisp of cold smoke thread bellowing out. Silently, he couldn''t help but wonder: how much his simple simulator world had evolved. It was far beyond his original design, what else in this world had taken on a life of its own? Can these people be called real? 1.6 [Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" → "Trash Transmigrator"] North didn''t realize how much time had passed until his body started to ache. For the past several hours, he had been running through different tasks, moving from one section of the Plum Gardens to another, carrying out duties that seemed simple on the surface but turned out to be exhausting in practice. His first job was arranging the spirit-infused lanterns along the main pathways leading toward the central festival area. But, each frost essence lantern had to be positioned exactly three steps apart, so they created patterns of snowflakes in the air between them. At first, North thought, ¡°Oh, this should be easy.¡± Then he made the mistake, placed two slightly too close together¡ªthe resulting dissonance made nearby area frost over instantly. "Careful!" the jade-ornament supervisor called out. "These aren''t mortal decorations. Everything must follow the formation paths!" After the lanterns, North was sent into the bamboo forest to help with cleaning up fallen leaves and trimming excess growth. This sounded easy. It wasn¡¯t. Bamboo leaves were everywhere. There was no single pile to collect¡ªjust endless layers of golden, crisp leaves that littered the forest floor. The bamboo itself was massive. Some stalks were as thick as tree trunks, rising toward the sky like green pillars supporting the heavens. Moreover, Some of the bamboo was imbued with Nether essence, making it more difficult to cut or clear. "Don''t disturb the dew on the living stalks," an older worker advised North. "That''s not water¡ªit''s distilled moonlight. A very precious resource for Visionaries proficient in illusions.¡± North paused, turning his gaze toward the stalks of bamboo swaying lightly in the night breeze. A single drop of luminescent liquid slid lazily down one of the stalks, leaving behind a faint glow. It shimmered like liquid silver.Then¡ª*before it could touch the ground¡ªa shadow darted in. Snap. A small bird-like creature snatched the droplet in its beak. North squinted. Wait. That wasn¡¯t a bird. Upon closer inspection, the creature¡¯s body was made up of wood gears subtly clicking beneath its silver feathers. Tiny runes glowed along its frame, shifting as it adjusted its grip on the droplet before taking off again into the night. A worker robot. North¡¯s brows furrowed. Mechanical birds harvesting liquid moonlight? This wasn¡¯t something he remembered coding. Another older worker chuckled as he handed North a special broom. "Careful," he said. "Some of the bamboo might move." North paused. "What do you mean, move?" The old man just grinned. "You''ll see." North sighed and got to work. Sure enough¡ªafter clearing a small area of leaves, one of the bamboo stalks subtly shifted, as if adjusting itself. North stopped, staring. It was like the forest itself was alive. Still, he kept at it, clearing paths through the grove, picking up stray branches, and making sure the grounds were pristine. By the time he was done, his arms ached, his back was sore, and he had a newfound respect for landscapers. Then North and a few other workers were tasked with sweeping away any remaining dust or debris, polishing the jade tiles, and helping set up small tables for decorations. It was menial work, but necessary. He could already picture how it would look at night, under the glowing lanterns, with noble heirs and young masters seated together in a gathering. He could imagine the performances that would take place¡ªthe dancers, the musicians, the fireworks. Gradually, the work grew more hard and kind of esoteric as the day progressed. They cleaned spirit fountains where the water flowed upward. Pruned branches on the floating islands. "Those are heart stones," an worker explained when North jumped at finding a path had rearranged itself. "They align with the Visionaries heart. Best not to think too hard about where they go." A part of North was genuinely impressed by the things he saw (As he had coded a lot of famous items and elements and remembered them). Another part of him was just wondering how much longer they were going to make him work. At some point, without realizing it, the sun had disappeared. The twilight sky had deepened, the Plum Gardens now fully bathed in its starry night glow. North blinked. He had been so caught up in the endless tasks that he hadn¡¯t even noticed time slipping by. The other workers seemed to realize it at the same moment. A supervisor clapped his hands. "Alright, that¡¯s enough!" he called out. "Festival starts in an hour¡ªwe¡¯re done for the day. Line up for your pay." A collective sigh of relief passed through the workers. North rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. Finally. The workers formed a line, stepping up one by one to receive their earned wages. North stood somewhere in the middle, arms crossed, watching as the merchant¡¯s assistants handed out small pouches. One worker in front of him chuckled, stretching his back. "Didn¡¯t even notice how tired I was." "Same," another worker muttered, rolling his shoulders with a groan. "Feels like my legs are gonna fall off." Another sighed heavily. "Especially the Floating Isles. Those did a number on me. I was so scared to open my eyes at that height." He shuddered at the memory. "I don¡¯t know how those young masters just fly around like it¡¯s nothing. It''s... it''s terrifying." A few others nodded in agreement, some chuckling, others grimacing at their own experiences. Clearly, not everyone was cut out for soaring through the skies like a sword-wielding demigod. North also agreed. What more, for the first time since arriving in this world, he felt¡­ normal. No insane plots. No assassins. No young masters. Just a guy earning his damn pay. Of course, he wasn¡¯t stupid to stop being cautious. When his turn came, the assistant barely glanced at him before tossing a small pouch into his hand. "Five Nether Coins," the assistant muttered, already moving on to the next worker. North nodded and stepped aside, loosening the drawstrings. He was curious and happy. This was his first time seeing Nether Coins in person. The moment he tipped the pouch over, the coins slid into his palm. North¡¯s brows lifted slightly. These are different, he thought, holding one up for inspection. On his computer screen, Nether Coins had been simple purple circles with some basic effects. But these... these were something else entirely. They weren¡¯t ordinary metal currency. Each Nether Coin was transparent, like a gemstone, yet somehow more¡­ fluid, alive. Inside their deep violet core, faint wisps of something¡ªalmost like tiny swirling shadows¡ªmoved constantly. They were cold to the touch, sending a slight tingling sensation through his fingers as he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger. North inspected them for a long time, flipping them over, watching the way the light refracted through their cores. "Strange¡­" he muttered. But before he could overthink it, he sighed, shook his head, and pocketed them. He had bigger concerns. By the time North exited the Plum Gardens, the evening sky had deepened into rich hues of red, orange, and purple. The soft glow of spirit lanterns now fully illuminated the festival grounds behind him, their gentle shimmer dancing across the reflective pathways. Outside the main gates, the city was still alive¡ªvendors selling food, groups of workers chatting, clan''s disciples walking in pairs, their robes fluttering in the cool evening breeze. But for North? There was only one thing on his mind now. Deliver Wei¡¯s Letter to Yun Jian at the Golden Feather Pavilion. North clicked his tongue, glancing around. Where the hell was the Golden Feather Pavilion? He knew it was inside the Inner City, but he had no clue where exactly. He thought back to the bits of conversation he had picked up from other workers earlier. The Lustrous Sky Clan is divided into three areas.: Outer City ¨C Where commoners, merchants, and most visitors stayed. Inner City ¨C Where he currently was. Home to respected sect disciples, lesser noble houses, and affiliated clans. Core Clan Area ¨C Private and restricted. Only direct members of the Lustrous Sky Clan could enter. The Golden Feather Pavilion had to be somewhere in the Inner City. But that didn¡¯t narrow it down much and it left a lot of ground to cover when night was falling fast. North watched other workers heading toward inns for the night rest and drinking, their earnings safely tucked away. He needed to move quickly¡ªdeliver the letter, get his Fate Token, and somehow become a Visionary before his tax came due and surreal charm got him killed. The alternative wasn''t something he wanted to contemplate. He stepped onto the market road, immediately immersed in a bustling, vibrant scene. Despite the late hour, the Inner City was far from quiet. If anything, it seemed even more alive at night¡ªthough the character of the crowd had shifted from day laborers to more refined evening clientele. Further, the street was lined with lantern-lit stalls, glowing in shades of blue, red, and gold, casting soft reflections across the polished stone pathways. A rich aroma filled the air¡ªsizzling skewers of spirit beast meat, freshly brewed herbal teas, and the faint, sweet scent of pastries. Street performers played lute-like instruments, their melodies blending with the constant murmur of merchants haggling with customers. North tucked his hands into his sleeves, walking at a steady, unhurried pace. Got to be careful who I ask, North thought, scanning faces in the crowd. He had one goal¡ªfinding the Golden Feather Pavilion. But asking just anyone could get him into unnecessary trouble. So, he took his time. He observed. He watched a young master nearly execute a merchant for suggesting his jade ornament wasn''t authentic. Three streets over, someone got thrown through a wall for accidentally brushing against a woman''s sleeve. North kept walking, cataloging the types of people he encountered. The merchant selling candied spirit fruits? Too busy arguing with a customer about prices. The muscled Visionary with three swords? Definitely not. The old woman feeding spirit birds? She''d launched into a thirty-minute lecture when someone else asked her a simple question. Time slipped by as he wove through the market, passing by jewelers, artifact forgers, and talisman shops. The scent of sizzling street food drifted through the air, making his stomach grumble in protest. Every so often, he stopped to ask for directions. To his surprise, the locals were actually helpful. No sneers, no racist insults, no ridiculous accusations of him being an undercover demonic Visionary. Just normal Npcs giving normal answers. North almost felt suspicious. Had he stumbled into the only sane part of this world? Finally, for walking over an hour, slowly gathering clues. He saw it. The building stood tall, constructed from dark golden wood, with intricate carvings of phoenix feathers along its outer walls. The entrance was wide, its massive double doors left open, revealing a well-lit interior that glowed with soft golden light. A large inscribed plaque above the entrance bore the elegant words: [Golden Feather Pavilion ¨C Where Fortunes Rise & Fall] North stared at it for a long moment. And then sighed. "An auction house," he muttered under his breath. "How original." Seriously. Of course, it had to be an auction house. There was no way it could have been a quiet tea house or a normal messenger hall. Still, he wasn¡¯t here to buy anything, he was as poor as a newborn child into the world. The two men standing at the entrance were monsters in human form. Each was built like an armored ox, their broad chests covered in formal uniforms bearing the golden feather insignia. One had a jagged scar running down his jaw, while the other looked like he could crush a boulder with his bare hands. North glanced down at his own and resisted the urge to sigh. He already knew how this would go. They¡¯d see his clothes¡ªthe dust-covered hoodie and slightly worn-out pants. They¡¯d smell the lingering sweat from working in the Plum Gardens all day. And then they¡¯d assume he was some random beggar who wandered here by mistake. This was going to be annoying. Still¡­ he had no choice. He climbed the stairs slowly, keeping his hands visible. The guards'' eyes tracked his movement, their expressions shifting from boredom to mild disdain. "The Golden Feather Pavillion is closed," the left guard said before North could even open his mouth. "Next opening is the seventh day of the month." "Right, I figured," North said, keeping his tone neutral, not overly friendly, not apologetic. "But I¡¯m not here for the auction." Scarface raised an eyebrow, finally giving him a proper look. North noticed the brief flicker of disgust as the guard¡¯s eyes traveled over his dusty clothes. "Uh-huh," Scarface drawled, unimpressed. "Then what do you want?"Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. North straightened slightly, deciding to keep this simple. "I have a letter for Yun Jian," he said, tapping his sleeve where the envelope was tucked. "From Old Wei.¡± That got a reaction. Scarface¡¯s bored expression sharpened slightly. The second guard grunted. "Old Wei, huh?" Scarface muttered, rubbing his jaw as if trying to remember. North caught the subtle shift in posture¡ªthey had gone from uninterested to mildly attentive. Which meant Quest Giver Wei wasn¡¯t just some random character to them or others. Interesting. The second guard leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. "And why," he asked slowly, "would Wei send someone like you?" North resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yep. There it was. The "you look too poor or different to be here" assumption. He kept his face blank but slight irritation in his voice. "Why don¡¯t you ask him yourself?" North said flatly. "I¡¯m just the delivery guy." Scarface exchanged glances with the second guard. For a moment, North thought they might actually tell him to get lost. Then, Scarface let out a frustrated sigh, shifting his halberd aside. "Wait here," he muttered, turning toward the side entrance. Scarface stepped inside, vanishing behind the heavy wooden doors, leaving North alone with the second guard. Scarface reappeared, "Yun Jian will see you now." North exhaled slowly. Without another word, Scarface turned and motioned for him to follow. North stepped inside. He was led down a dimly lit corridor, the golden glow from the lamps casting long shadows on the lacquered wooden walls. Scarface didn¡¯t say a word, merely stopping in front of a large set of ornate doors, then pushing them open. "Go in." North braced himself and stepped forward. Inside, the space was surprisingly simple. A large, circular room, lined with shelves filled with rare artifacts, scrolls, and sealed jade slips. At its center, a low wooden table sat atop an expensive rug, two chairs placed on either side. And behind that table¡ªSat Yun Jian. Yun Jian wasn¡¯t what North had expected. He was broad-shouldered but lean, dressed in dark red robes lined with faint golden embroidery. His hair was loosely tied back, revealing sharp, well-defined features, and dark, unreadable eyes. Moreover, despite the refined elegance of the room, Yun Jian didn¡¯t seem like a businessman. Not entirely. Because the moment North looked at him¡ªhe felt it. Pressure. Not physical. Not like the oppressive presence of an arrogant young master trying to flaunt their power. This was deeper. Sharper. Controlled. It wasn¡¯t just power¡ªit was the presence of someone who had crossed a line very few ever reached.
[Template Analysis: Unable to Process]
Likely Rank Five¡­ or Higher! Yun Jian didn¡¯t speak immediately. Instead, he lifted a delicate porcelain cup, swirling the dark red wine within it. The scent was rich, aged, refined. With a calm motion, he took a slow sip, then finally motioned toward the chair in front of him. "Take a seat." North hesitated only for a second before complying. "So," he said, setting his cup down, "Wei sent you." North met his gaze, keeping his voice even. "Yes. He told me to deliver something." Yun Jian¡¯s eyes glinted faintly. "Hm. And you agreed just like that?" North tilted his head slightly. "It was a job." A flicker of amusement passed through Yun Jian¡¯s expression, which North couldn¡¯t understand. He was a noob, he quickly realized in many matters at that. He shook his head internally, making a mental note for gathering more enough. Thereafter, he simply reached into his sleeve, pulling out the sealed letter. "Here," he said simply. He placed it on the table between them. For a moment, Yun Jian simply stared at it, his fingers tapping lightly against the wooden surface. Then, slowly, he reached forward, taking the letter into his hands. North exhaled internally.
[Quest Completed: Deliver Wei''s Letter to Yun Jian]
Now, there was only one thing left. North leaned back slightly. "So," he said, "I assume this is where I get my payment?" He watched as Yun Jian placed the letter aside without even opening it. Not a single flicker of interest or concern. As if whatever was inside wasn¡¯t urgent, or he already knew what it contained. Instead, the man simply lifted his wine cup again, taking a slow sip before resting his elbow against the table, "what did Old Wei promise you as payment?" North didn¡¯t hesitate. "A Fate Token." For a brief second, Yun Jian raised his burrow in a mild interest. North didn¡¯t react. He had already expected this. Most true visionaries used Fate Token at a young age. Then, Yun Jian simply set his wine cup down and glanced toward the door. "Call for Ruolan," he ordered. A few seconds later, a soft knock echoed through the quiet office. The heavy doors creaked open, and a woman stepped inside. She was tall, poised, and dressed in a refined indigo robe, her hair neatly tied into a flowing braid. Her sharp features and calm demeanor immediately suggested someone of efficiency and authority. North knew the type. High-Ranking Servant: Prefers efficiency, dislikes wasting time. Yun Jian glanced at her. "Retrieve a Fate Token." The woman¡ªRuolan¡ªbarely hesitated. "Yes, Master Yun," she said smoothly, bowing before immediately turning and exiting. She moved fast. Efficient. Professional. North sat there, suddenly very aware of how awkwardly silent the room had become. Yun Jian didn¡¯t say anything. Just picked up his wine again, sipping slowly. North felt the man was utterly bored. "You like to drink?" Yun Jian glanced at him. North shook his head. "Not really." Yun Jian simply hummed, swirling his wine lazily. And then¡­ silence again. A few minutes later, Ruolan returned. This time, she was carrying a small jade box. She walked gracefully toward the table, stopping beside North. Her nose wrinkled slightly. North didn¡¯t miss it. He also didn¡¯t care. He had been working all day, carrying crates, clearing bamboo groves, handling spirit lanterns. Of course, he smelled like dirt, sweat. Instead of reacting, he simply extended his hand, taking the jade box from her grasp. Ruolan withdrew quickly, as if not wanting to stand too close. North shook his head internally, he needed to take a bath and book a resting place for the night next. Luckily he had earned some money and hopefully, it¡¯ll be enough for the night. Still, his focus shifted instantly to the object. His hands trembled slightly as he opened it. Inside lay exactly what he''d spent countless hours programming into his game: a Fate Token. The translucent crystal orb sat in velvet padding, and within it, a miniature golden thread seemed to dance and twist of its own accord. It was exactly as he''d designed it, yet somehow more real, more significant than anything he''d ever rendered on his computer screen.
[Item Analysis: Fate Token] [Status: Authentic] [Function: Visionary Catalyst/Template Modifier]
I made you, he thought, staring at the golden thread, his fingers brushing over the surface. But like everything else here, you''ve become something more than just code. Originally, the Simulator had been nothing more than an open-source project¡ªa blank framework developed by some kind-hearted programmer and uploaded for the open-source community to play around with, modify, and expand however they pleased. Thus at first, it had been a collaborative effort, and a community of coders came together to experiment with world-building, mechanics, and magical systems. Anyone could add whatever they wanted¡ªnew kingdom, absurdly overpowered techniques, ridiculous plotlines, even entire realms filled with bizarre logic. But over time, the project fell into obscurity, abandoned as trends shifted and newer, shinier projects took over. That¡¯s when North forked it into his private server. What had started as a community experiment became his personal playground. He privatized the project, taking full control, rewriting vast portions of the code, and turning it into something uniquely his own. For years, he tweaked, adjusted, and refined the world, crafting elaborate mechanics, devious plot triggers, and let¡¯s-be-honest-this-is-rigged difficulty settings¡ªall for his own amusement. Thus, he was very well aware of many common if not most of the items inside. He also knew how they worked. And now he was holding one of the most important or legacy items for the first time. It felt unique and strangely attractive to look at. Across the table, Yun Jian watched him quietly. Not saying anything. Just studying. Perhaps he was too bored, or maybe he just wanted to stare at North¡¯s out of place face, wondering where this man had come from. North carefully closed the jade box, tucking it into his sleeve, ensuring the Fate Token was protected. "Thanks," he said, intending to stand up. "I''ll be taking my leave." He had waited long enough for this¡ªthere was no way he was going to let some random street thief or unexpected accident take it from him. Standing from his seat, North gave Yun Jian a slight nod¡ªnothing more, nothing less. Then, without another word, he turned and strode toward the exit, feeling Yun Jian¡¯s gaze following him all the way. The doors of the Golden Feather Pavilion swung shut behind him with a muted thud, muffling the noise of the lively hall inside. Only then, as the cool night air met his skin, did North finally feel like he could breathe again. The streets of the Inner City were still lively due to the ongoing festival. Colorful lanterns swayed overhead, casting warm light onto the bustling roads, while distant laughter and the rhythmic beat of festival drums echoed through the air. But North was too exhausted to even consider stopping at Plum Gardens to catch a glimpse of four seasons. What¡¯s more, the guards at the entrance might not even let him in in his current state. Dust-covered, sore, and visibly drained, he didn¡¯t exactly look like someone who belonged in the Inner City. He exhaled slowly, stretching his aching shoulders. It had been a long day. He already knew where he was heading. During a water break in the Plum Gardens, he''d asked one of his fellow laborers about lodging. "Most of us stay at the Dancing Carp Inn," the worker had said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Cheap beds, decent food, and the owner doesn''t ask questions as long as you pay up front." As North strolled, his mind drifted, subconsciously comparing this world to Earth. In some ways, they were similar. But in many ways¡­ this world was alien. Public transportation wasn¡¯t a train or a bus. Instead, he passed by massive jumping toad houses that could carry passengers across districts, their slimy skin shimmering under the lantern light. There were slithering serpent taxis, their polished scales reflecting the city¡¯s glow, smoothly gliding along the streets. Despite their huge sizes, they were quite fast. Some passengers sat in small carriages strapped to their backs, while others simply rode them like a horse. Then there were Visionaries. In the end, there was all the other weird stuff¡ªthings that couldn¡¯t be encountered in the outside world or even noticed through the Simulator¡¯s external interface. Some details were too subtle, too intricate to be captured just by coding and observing from a screen. One had to step inside the world to truly experience it Despite how tempting it was to take one of the unique public transports, North resisted. Because everything cost money. So, he walked. For over an hour and a half. By the time he reached the district where the Dancing Carp Inn was located, his legs were sore, his back ached, and his feet felt like they¡¯d been through a battlefield. But at least he made it safely. Rather than entering Dancing Carp, North looked around for a quieter alternative nearby. The reason was simple: Because of it being cheaper than other places in the Inner City, it catered to laborers and low-ranking merchants. That meant two things:
  1. It was affordable.
  2. It was loud and packed.
North didn¡¯t hate the idea of a rowdy environment, but for safety reasons, he decided to stay in another nearby inn instead. If something stupid happened overnight¡ªlike some drunk worker getting into a brawl¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to be caught in it. It didn¡¯t take long. A smaller establishment, the Silver Blossom Inn, sat just a short walk away. It was older, but it looked clean and had an open sign hanging outside. But as North stepped inside, immediately, his nose was hit with the thick, alcohol-laced air. The warm scent of fermented drinks, grilled meat, and the faint trace of sweat from too many people crammed into one place assaulted his senses. The inn was packed to the brim. Despite his best efforts to avoid large crowds, he had walked straight into one. Alas¡­ It was festival season, and there was nothing he could do about it¡ªexcept grumble and suffer. The innkeeper, a middle-aged man with a graying beard, looked up from behind the counter. "Need a room?" "Yeah. A private one," North said, placing his pouch of Nether Coins on the counter. "Also a warm bath. And food." The man grunted, scratching his chin. "Bath and food come with the room. How long you staying?" "Just the night." The innkeeper nodded. "That¡¯ll be fifty copper tales or half a Nether Coin." North handed over one full Nether Coin, and the man quickly counted out copper currency that clinked heavily in North''s palm. So that''s the exchange rate, North thought, mentally noting how a Nether Coin was worth. As he inspected the coins, he also realized something very interesting. Due to working at Plum Gardens, his pay had been three times higher than standard labor wages. That meant he had been paid a very generous sum for a single day¡¯s work. If he had been working normal jobs, his pay for that day would have been barely a fraction of what he earned. North chuckled. So, he had basically been overpaid. Nice. A young servant led him to his room on the second floor. It was small but clean, with a window overlooking the street and a bed that looked impossibly inviting after his long day. "Bath will be ready in a quarter hour," the servant said. "Food shortly after. Would sir prefer the wine now or with dinner?" "With dinner is fine," North replied, already imagining how good it would feel to be clean. His food arrived shortly after¡ªa hot plate of roasted beast meat, some fragrant rice, and a small side of preserved vegetables. A jug of cheap wine was placed on the table as well. North sat down, stretching his sore legs as he poured himself a cup of wine. As he took a sip, he mentally ran through his plans. [Current Status:] ? He had money. ? He had shelter. ? He had food. ? And most importantly¡­ he had the Fate Token. In one day, he had accomplished a lit and after tonight, he would no longer be just a bystander in this world. He would become a Visionary. A slow grin spread across his lips. "Time to make things interesting." He lifted the cup of wine, took a final sip, then locked the door. It was time.
[System Alert: Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring] [Warning: Your current Archetype will be soon transition.]
[Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" ¡ú "Trash Transmigrator"]
[Recommendation: Find and install a new Template immediately.]
North stared at the glowing text, blinking slowly. "Well¡­ shit." 1.7 [Future Template: Probably Delicious]
[System Alert: Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring] [Warning: Your current Archetype will be soon transition.]
[Installed Archetype: "Newbie Luck" ¡ú "Trash Transmigrator"]
[Recommendation: Find and install a new Template immediately.]
North stared at the glowing text floating before his eyes. Slowly, he placed his cup of wine back on the table, exhaling through his nose. His fingers twitched slightly, but he otherwise remained still. For a full five seconds. Then, finally, he muttered under his breath¡ª "I would greatly appreciate it if (you) so-called System actually explained things properly instead of just throwing cryptic half-assed warnings at me." His voice was calm. Too calm. Which meant he was definitely about to lose his patience. Because, honestly? What was he even supposed to do with this information? [Base Template "Newbie Luck" Expiring Soon] [New Template: Trash Transmigrator] ¡­Excuse me? Was this thing trying to humiliate him?! "Tsk! Tsk!" North clicked his tongue, his expression twitching in irritation. First of all, what the hell was a "Trash Transmigrator" Template? That wasn¡¯t just bad-sounding. That was literally a death sentence. Because in every damn cultivation novel, simulator scenario, and LitRPG setting he had ever seen, the moment someone got labeled as "trash"¡­ They either died horribly or became the punching bag for arrogant young masters. And North? North had no interest in getting his face slammed into the ground for "character development." No, thank you very much. Furthermore, it couldn¡¯t have let him enjoy his meal in peace?! No, of course not. It just had to drop this bombshell right in the middle of his quiet moment of triumph. He had literally just gotten his Fate Token, just found a place to sleep, just figured out how the currency worked. And now? [System Alert: You Are Now Officially Trash] Perfect. Absolutely perfect. North sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Can we at least talk about how I''m supposed to install a new Template?" No response. Of course. He flicked at the glowing text. It didn¡¯t react. He waited a few seconds. Still nothing. North exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. "Fantastic," he muttered. "FUCK YOU." Still, no point sitting here complaining (even though he really, really wanted to). His new priority now was to figure out how to change his templates. The only problem? He had no idea how. The System sure as hell wasn¡¯t helping. And, unless a Template Store magically popped up in front of him, he was going to have to find answers himself. North leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "...I just know this is going to be annoying." He lifted the large mug and downed the entire drink in one gulp. The bitter taste of cheap wine burned slightly down his throat, but it was nothing he couldn¡¯t handle. Alcohol was alcohol. After that ridiculous System stunt, he definitely needed it. Still, he wasn¡¯t about to let some annoying notification ruin his dinner. He had worked too hard today¡ªhe wasn¡¯t about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger. So, pushing aside his frustration, he focused on the warm, fragrant meal before him. The roasted beast meat looked simple, but the moment North took a bite, his eyes widened slightly. Surprisingly good. Juicy, tender, with just the right amount of fat to melt on the tongue. A mix of deep, earthy spices blended into the meat, flavors he had never encountered back on Earth. The aroma itself was intoxicating, rich and smoky, making his stomach tighten in anticipation for the next bite. North chewed slowly, his eyes briefly closing from the pleasure of eating actual food. The warmth spread from his tongue straight to his mind and stomach, easing away the exhaustion he hadn¡¯t even realized was digging into his bones. For the first time today, he allowed himself to simply enjoy something. Just food. And it was damn good. He ate in comfortable silence, savoring every bite. By the time he was done, he leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly, letting the warmth settle in his stomach. Just then, a knock on the door. "Sir, I¡¯ve brought the hot water for your bath," a voice called from the other side. North stood up, stretching, already feeling the weight of exhaustion settling in. "Come in," he said. The door creaked open, and a young male waiter stepped inside, carrying a large wooden bucket of steaming water. He moved efficiently, placing it inside the small washroom attached to the room before bowing slightly. "Also, I¡¯ll be taking the dishes," he added, glancing at the empty plates. "Yeah, go ahead," North muttered, rubbing his stiff neck. The waiter collected the utensils, gave him a polite nod, and stepped out. The moment the door closed behind the waiter, North was already stripping off his sticky clothes. He slipped into the hot water, and immediately his muscles began to relax. The warmth seemed to seep into his very bones, washing away the aches from a day of manual labor. To his surprise, there was even a crude soap-like substance provided¡ªanother detail he''d never bothered to program into his game. The NPCs developed basic hygiene on their own, he mused, working the soap into a lather. Probably should have seen that coming. Yet the pleasure of being clean brought a new problem into focus. As he stepped out of the bath, water dripping onto the wooden floor, he realized he had no change of clothes. North stood there, naked, dripping water onto the floor, staring at his ruined hoodie and jeans. "...Well, this sucks." With a resigned sigh, he grabbed his clothes, dunked them into the leftover bathwater, and began scrubbing. It wasn¡¯t ideal, but he wasn¡¯t about to walk around in sweat-soaked, dirt-covered clothes tomorrow. Once done, he wrung them out as best as he could, hanging them over the wooden chair near the small window. He could only hope they dried by morning. At least they should be dry by morning, he thought, Though this definitely wasn''t how I imagined spending my first night in new world. Finally, once every menial task was done, North picked up the box containing the Fate Token. His chance to become a Visionary at last. For a moment, he couldn''t believe how much he''d accomplished in one day. From nearly dying in an inn brawl to getting a job, earning money, delivering Wei¡¯s letter, receiving his first Fate Token. And now? Now, he would take the first real step toward survival. Somehow he''d managed to navigate this insane world he''d created. Slowly, he lifted the lid of the jade box. Inside, nestled atop a silken cushion, was the Fate Token. Even though he had programmed it himself, seeing it in reality was¡­ different. The token was small, delicate, about the size of a thumb, yet it carried a presence far larger than itself. It was a translucent crystal orb, perfectly smooth, but inside¡ªA single golden thread coiled and shimmered, shifting faintly, as if it were alive. North¡¯s eyes were drawn to it immediately. It was mesmerizing. The golden thread inside didn¡¯t just glow¡ªit pulsed, moving like a tiny fragment of the universe itself, twisting, stretching, reacting to unseen forces. Using it wasn''t complicated¡ªat least in theory. Just hold it until the thread of fate disappears. When North had programmed it, he''d designed it to react to a person''s luck & fate or or more simply, their potential to create chaos in the storyline. It would slowly merge with them, like two streams joining into a river. But seeing it now, feeling its weight in his hand, he understood more about what he''d actually created. The Fate Token represented something profound: the moment a person broke free from the bonds of ordinary existence. It was supposed to symbolize that finally, a person had control over their fate and was no longer bound by normal rules¡ªthey had the power to fight against heaven itself.
[Item Analysis: Fate Token Active] [Warning: Personal Fate Destabilizing] [Note: Template Modification Imminent]
North watched the golden thread inside the orb glow brighter, swirling like a living thing, but also slowly disappearing. And then, everything went dark. For a moment, North felt weightless, his mind pulled into the depths of something vast, something unknowable. The world split apart like a cracked mirror, fracturing into a thousand shards of possibility. And through those cracks, he saw. ... At the center of this grand space was a long table, endless and magnificent, carved from exquisite jade. Seated around it were thirteen figures, each one radiating power so deep, their very presence capable of shattering mountains. Immortals. They were powerful. Too powerful. Men and women dressed in flowing robes woven from stardust, their hands adorned with rings that pulsed with the very essence of world itself. They had faces that should have been familiar. But North could not recognize them. His disciples. His followers. His chosen? They raised goblets of golden liquid, their faces filled with reverence and devotion. "To our Lord!" "To the One Who Guides Us to Greatness!" "To Break Heaven''s laws.¡± ¡°To Ultimate Freedom.¡± They were waiting. At the head of the table, a man sat upon a throne carved from the very bones of fate itself. For the feast to begin. ¡­ ... ...The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The white moon overhead fsuddenly lickered violently, Then, it bled. A single red tear. Then another. And another. Until the sky itself wept blood, staining the world with something ancient, something monstrous. A single drop of blood fell onto the table. Then another. And another. The once cheerful faces of the people had changed. Their smiles were wider. Too wide. Their hands twitched, their fingers digging into the table as they leaned forward. Their lips parted, and their teeth glistened. They were starving. They tore into him, not with weapons, but with their hands, their teeth, their bare fingers digging deep into his flesh. His own voice faded beneath their laughter, beneath the sounds of wet tearing. The first, a woman with long silver hair, cracked open his skull, her fingers digging into his brain. "His thoughts become my thoughts," she sang, wisdom bleeding from her lips. Blood spilled down her chin, but she did not wipe it away. She swallowed, and as she did, her body trembled, shuddering with something indescribable. Ecstasy. As if she had consumed something divine. As if she had become something more. ¡°The arms that shaped world," The second, a man, moaned, tearing flesh from bone. "Let your strength become my strength!" "Your eyes," whispered another, his fingers diving deep. "Let me see as you see, let me witness through your divine vision!" The fourth plunged his hands into his chest, his fingers reaching into his ribs. "These lungs that breathed life into our world," he whispered, tearing through lungs. "Let me inhale your divine breath!" A fifth laughed hysterically, his expression one of pure euphoria, as he reached into his guts, his hands drenched in blood. Another ripped out his heart. Still beating. Still warm. Blood pooling on table. The immortal held it in both hands, trembling. Then, with blood dripping from his lips, he took a bite. The feast descended into madness. They did not hesitate. They could not stop. Each of them consumed a piece. Each of them devoured what remained. And they were laughing. Not with hatred. Not with cruelty. But with pure, unfiltered joy. ¡­ The vision flickered, the scene twisting into something darker, something deeper. His consciousness faded, his mind barely clinging to the last image. Twelve blood-drenched figures, their mouths still full of him. Their eyes, hollow yet glowing with joy & ecstasy. ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ North¡¯s unfocused eyes snapped back into focus, his breath hitching as a violent gasp tore from his throat. His body jerked, muscles tensing as if he¡¯d been yanked back into reality from somewhere far, far away. The Fate Token cold and dark in his trembling hand. His breathing was ragged, his heartbeat erratic. The golden thread had vanished, absorbed into his being. The contract was sealed. His fate was set. He stumbled to the window, bile rising in his throat. His body felt cold. North exhaled, running a shaky hand through his hair, inhaling a deep breath. "...What The FUCK did I just witnessed." ¡­
[Fate Token Absorbed] [Visionary Awakening: Completed.]
[System Alert: Base Template Archetype "Newbie Luck" Expired] [Installing New Base Template Archetype: "The Undefined"] *Due to your Undefined status, you may attempt to acquire new templates. Warning: Templates are not freely given. They must be earned through conditions or taken from others.
¡­ Ten minutes. ... North paced across the room, his bare feet pressing against the cold wooden floor, his mind racing with a thousand fragmented thoughts. His breath was uneven, his fingers twitching at his sides. Every few steps, he''d pause, run his hands through his hair, then resume his restless circuit. Finally, he dropped into the room''s only chair, trying to steady his breathing. He knew exactly what this vision meant¡ªhe''d coded this system himself, after all. The Fate Token always shows a significant piece of your future. Could be anything¡ªgood or bad¡ªbut it''s bound to happen¡­ He had coded the world this way himself. He had programmed it himself. He knew how it worked. The Fate Token Always Showed a person significant instance of their Future: It could be anything. Visionaries saw their fate. Their vision was their truth. It didn¡¯t matter if they liked it or not. And fate¡­ did not change easily. This was why Visionaries were so distinctive in their behavior. Some saw themselves achieving immortality and became arrogant. Others witnessed their own failures and grew cautious. A few saw their deaths and went mad trying to prevent the inevitable. But that was the cruel joke¡ªthe harder they tried to avoid their fated scene, the more certainly they walked toward it. North had designed it that way, another torture mechanism for his game''s NPCs. He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples. This was inevitable. He could try to avoid it, but fate would twist itself to make it happen. It was only a matter of time. If he didn¡¯t do something, his story would lead him directly to that bloody feast. North leaned back in the chair, his mind finally slowing down. Right. If the system worked as he designed it, then there had to be loopholes. Visionaries who changed their fate were rare¡­ but must have existed. If not, he had to become one. ... ... .... North narrowed his eyes. Right now, there seemed to be only three ways he knew of to alter a Fate Token''s prophecy. Find an External Fate Override. (Legendary artifacts, forbidden techniques, or powerful beings that could rewrite fate.) Gain Enough Power to Defy It. (If he became a monstrous existence beyond fate¡¯s grasp, he could force the fate to shift around him.) Find the Source of the Vision. (If he understood why this fate existed, he could dismantle it at the root.) The first two were long-term solutions. The third? That was something he could start on immediately. North sat up, his fingers drumming against the table. His vision had shown thirteen powerful people. Twelve future Visionaries. That meant¡­ They were either: Alive right now, still weak, unaware of their future role. On their own paths, destined to eventually meet him. If he could find them before they became his doom¡­ Maybe he could stop this future from happening. North exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. This world was not going to give him an easy way out. But if fate had already decided he was meant to be the feast¡­ Then he¡¯d just have to burn the table first. If this world wanted a villain? Fine. He¡¯d gladly become one. ¡­ ¡­ While lost in thought about his future, something else caught North''s attention¡ªan empty space in his consciousness, like a door waiting to be opened. In the simulator, he''d simply called it an Imaginary Island, a pocket dimension where Visionaries created and stored Images for their powers. But now... North suddenly stood somewhere else. A small, isolated space, no larger than a single room. The ground beneath him was solid earth, soft green grass swaying gently despite the absence of wind. Above, the sky stretched endlessly, an infinite expanse of nothing and everything. There was no sun. No source of light. Yet somehow, everything was illuminated, bathed in a soft, gentle glow. And at the edges, there was nothing. Not in the sense of emptiness, but in a way that felt absolute. The world simply ended at the border, a place where even his mind refused to comprehend what lay beyond. When he tried to look past the edges, his perception simply... stopped, as if his mind refused to process what lay beyond.
[Blessed Land Embryo: Imaginary Island]
So this is what it really looks like, he thought, turning slowly to take it all in. He knelt, touching the grass. It felt more vivid than anything in the physical world, as if each blade contained deeper truths about what ''grass'' truly was. This Imaginary Island could be said to be the real foundation of a Visionary¡¯s Strength. And every Visionary possessed one¡ªa personal domain where they built the foundation for their power It acted as both a resource and a weapon, shaped entirely by the Visionary¡¯s will. North took a few slow steps, feeling the soft texture of the grass beneath his feet. His Imaginary Island was tiny. That was expected, he was only Rank 1. For new Visionaries, their islands were barely formed, no larger than a simple courtyard or a small room. There were no walls. There was no depth beyond what he could see. There was nothing yet created. But the potential? That was limitless. Furthermore, as he became stronger, his island would grow, evolve, and expand, reflecting his development. "The benefits of this place..." he murmured, remembering the code he''d written. First and most crucial was the ability to create or store personal Images¡ªthe foundation of a Visionary''s power. Without an Image, a Visionary was powerless. But the space served another vital function: resource generation. Visionaries could nurture materials, plants, and resources inside their island. If North wanted, he could start growing rice, herbs, or even trees inside. Then the Imaginary Island acted as a spatial storage. He could keep his possessions here, no longer needing a physical backpack or storage rings. However, his current Rank 1 status severely limited him. He could grow basic crops, but livestock wouldn¡¯t survive. He could store objects, but only a limited amount. He could walk, but couldn¡¯t fly or expand it yet. He could shape it¡ªbut only within small constraints. At higher ranks, an Imaginary Island could become massive, with landscapes as large as entire cities or entire continent. Right now? He had¡­ a room-sized patch of grass. Not exactly the realm of a god. Still, this was invaluable. North sat down cross-legged on the soft grass, taking a deep breath. First step¡ªhe needed an Image. Every Visionary required a conceptual foundation to manifest their power. Without it, all this Nether energy would be useless, like trying to build a house without a blueprint. He had two paths before him. The common route: buy an existing Image from the market, like ninety-nine percent of Visionaries did. And why wouldn''t they? Creating an original Image was like trying to leap over a mountain¡ªnearly impossible without profound understanding of Heavens or reality''s underlying principles. I should know, he thought grimly. I made it that hard on purpose. Creating an Image required deep comprehension of universal truths¡ªmatter, concepts, values, and countless other factors that worked in the background. When he''d coded this system, he''d made Image creation nearly impossible for most users, forcing them to rely on pre-made options. It had seemed like good game design at the time. North''s fingers dug into the grass of his Imaginary Island. If he still had his terminal, creating an Image would be as simple as typing a few lines of code. But here, trapped in his own game? He was bound by the same restrictions he''d placed on everyone else. His options further crystallized: the safe route¡ªbuy a complete Image from the market. It would be expensive, but reliable. His Imaginary Island would develop according to its established pattern. The riskier path¡ªbuy cheaper and household type Images and attempt to combine them into something new(powerful). It would be less expensive but far more dangerous. One mistake in the fusion process could shatter both Images and leave him worse than before: Broke. Still, what kind of Image should he buy? Traditional Visionaries crafted Images based on weapons, philosophies, elements, or concepts. Each path led to different types of power, different destinies. A Sword Saint might want to craft an Image of an Infinite Blade. A Scholar might want to craft an Image of a Library of Infinite Knowledge. A Tyrant might want to craft an Image of a Throne Overlooking the World. His fingers pressed into the grass further. He refused to be bound by a fate he didn''t choose. He needed to craft an Image that would break everything. An Image that would allow him to rewrite his future itself. North grinned slightly, despite everything. "If this world wants to turn me into a feast¡­" "Then let¡¯s see what happens when the meal gets up and walks away." For now, he had time¡ªtime to decide, time to plan. 1.8 [Young Master Disguise: 95% Complete!] Images were reflections of Truth that existed or could exist. North knew the formula for creation intimately¡ªhe''d written it himself. First, a Visionary needed to glimpse the truth, then gather it. Though not all these steps were actually prerequisite to forming a new Image from nothing. He''d programmed it so that once an NPC met certain conditions, they might form an Image without even realizing it. A moment of profound understanding, a brush with death, a revelation about heaven¡ªany of these could crystallize into an Image. After all, Images weren''t crude items: they could reflect anything. With enough truth and understanding gathered together, they could take any shape or size. The only real limitation was their expenditure¡ªusing them required regular replenishment, the frequency depending on the Image''s level itself. North stared at the bright moon outside his inn window. Its white luminescence spilled across the floor, oddly comforting in its familiarity. His mind and body felt heavy with the day''s trauma¡ªthe inn fight, the vision of his fate, becoming a Visionary. He finally let himself relax, desperately hoping that when he opened his eyes next, this would all be a bad dream. That he''d wake up at his computer, not trapped in the world he''d created to torture others. Morning arrived with different plans. A slight chill crept through the room, golden sunlight bleeding through thin curtains. North might have slept till noon if the inn worker hadn''t knocked, their voice carrying through the door: "Sir, you''ll need to book another day if you''re staying longer." He took a long yawn and stretched, wincing at the muscle pain that radiated through his body. The previous day''s labor in the Plum Gardens had left its mark. He stood up, rolling his shoulders, then turned toward his clothes. They had dried overnight¡ªbut not completely. He took a quick cold water bath and changed. The fabric still clung to his skin, slightly damp and annoyingly uncomfortable. But there wasn¡¯t much choice. He wasn¡¯t about to walk around naked. With a reluctant sigh, he put them on, grimacing as the wetness pressed against him. Mental Status: Mildly Irritated. It took him twenty minutes to gather himself, check his belongings, and make sure he hadn¡¯t left anything behind. Then, with no home, no plan, and fate breathing down his neck. North stepped back onto the streets of the Inner City. And just like that, his problems officially started piling up again, but now with the added weight of being a Visionary¡ªalbeit one without an Image, proper clothes, or any real plan. He also remembered very clearly that his Newbie Luck Template had been de-installed by the System, so he needed to be more cautious now. The thought made him scowl¡ªwhat kind of scam was this? His free trial had lasted barely half a day. If he ever met whoever designed this system... oh wait, that was him. The morning streets were already bustling. Visionaries in flowing robes strode past common folk, their attitude making others feel like a lesser being and scatter. A young woman haggled with a street vendor over the price of herbs while her pet beast fox yawned lazily. Two disciples argued about formation theory outside a tea house. Time to play smarter, he thought, sidestepping a messenger rushing past on a wolf very fast. If he was going to survive in this world, he couldn''t keep looking like some lost hillbilly. When in Rome, do as the Romans¡ªor in this case, when in a Visionary world, fake it till you make it. "Young master, would you like to try our spirit-infused tea?" a vendor called out. North glanced down at his damp modern clothes. "Not today." "Ah... perhaps another time," the vendor''s enthusiasm deflated upon closer inspection of North''s attire. That''s exactly the kind of reaction I need to stop getting, he thought grimly. The plan crystallized in his mind: integrate himself so perfectly that people would assume he was a young master from some distant empire. To con fate itself, he first needed to con himself (Act like he belongs here.), and then, deceive others. (Make them believe he belongs.) Finally, deceive fate itself. (Rewrite the script.) So, first step? Clothes. He needed proper clothes. His damp, Earth-style hoodie and jeans were a dead giveaway. To survive, he had to dress the part. And that meant¡­ Shopping. It took thirty minutes of walking, dodging Visionaries on beasts, merchant carts, and suspicious street vendors selling ¡°immortality pills¡± that looked like rat droppings, but North finally found a place. The building wasn''t particularly grand compared to its neighbors, which suited his purposes¡ªand hopefully his budget. Through the windows, he could see displays of robes ranging from simple garb to elaborate young master attire. Attendants, dressed in flawless uniforms, moved gracefully between racks of folded fabrics, whispering in hushed tones to customers. The Silk Cloud Pavilion. Two spirit stones changed hands as a customer ahead of him purchased a basic disciple''s robe. North''s hand instinctively went to his pocket, feeling his remaining Nether coins. He could only spare one, maybe two at most. The rest needed to be saved for emergencies and food, especially since his luck protection was gone. As he entered, the attendant nearest to him¡ªa young man with sharp features and an air of arrogance¡ªglanced at him once. Then twice. Then thrice. On the third glance, his nose scrunched slightly, as if he had just smelled something unpleasant. North sighed internally. He knew how this worked. If he acted timid, they¡¯d treat him like a nobody and shoo him out. If he acted too confident, they¡¯d assume he was causing trouble. So¡ªhe needed to act just right. Like someone rich but unbothered. Like someone who belonged here. North¡¯s posture shifted. His back straightened, and his chin lifted slightly¡ªnot arrogantly, but with quiet confidence. He placed one hand behind his back, mimicking the posture of the other wealthy visionaries he had seen on the way. "Welcome to the Silk Cloud Pavilion," a shop assistant immediately called out, then paused, taking in North''s appearance with barely concealed disdain. "The... discount section is in the back." Perfect, North thought, ignoring the slight. Let''s hope they have something that says ''mysterious young master'' rather than ''please rob me''. North sorted through the rows of robes, his fingers brushing against the smooth silk and embroidered patterns. He might be broke, but his aesthetic sense had always been impeccable. Style was free. And even if he was fighting against fate itself, he would do it while looking good. North¡¯s eyes scanned the collection until he found exactly what he needed. A robe of deep, obsidian black & emerald deep green¡ªan outer robe that seemed to swallow & reflect light itself. The fabric was shot through with subtle golden patterns that caught the light like constellations. More importantly, the cut was perfect¡ªthe kind that would make even a beggar look like nobility. After this no one should call me I wasn¡¯t a young master of some rich clan! North repeatedly nodded in his head feeling very happy. He paired the dark outer robe with an emerald green inner garment that provided a striking contrast. The collar was high and formal, with delicate golden threading that formed abstract patterns along the edges. A jade-green tassel earring completed the look¡ªsomething that would mark him as exotic rather than poor. North studied himself in the mirror. The dark robe fell in perfect lines. His long hair, still slightly wild, only added to the effect¡ªmaking him look like some young master who''d just returned from a secluded retreat. The green accents provided just enough color to be striking without being gaudy. Young Master Disguise: 95% Complete And judging by how the store attendant was staring at him, wide-eyed, barely blinking. He might have overdone it. Her attitude underwent a complete transformation. Her earlier disdain vanished, replaced by wide-eyed attention. "Young Master," she breathed, "this ensemble suits you perfectly."
[Plot Armor: 16% - Low] [Survival Tax: Still In Debt] [Surreal Charm: CATASTROPHICALLY HIGH]
What??? North stared at the numbers, dumbfounded. His Plot Armor had doubled¡ªDOUBLED¡ªjust from changing his clothes. What kind of sham was this?! The moment he put on a new outfit? Boom. Instant increase. Meanwhile, his Surreal Charm was still catastrophically high. Which meant, despite his best efforts, weird bullshit was going to keep coming his way.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. [Status: Looking Too Good To Be Poor] "We could offer a special discount," the assistant said quickly, her eyes never leaving his reflection. "And... might I know the Young Master''s name? For our records, of course." North clicked his tongue, was she trying to flirt with me? He wondered. Though, he had almost forgotten. This was dangerous. Because perception influenced reputation. And reputation, in a world like this, was everything. And couldn¡¯t become too well-known too fast. Still, a discount was a discount. And right now, he needed to save every Nether Coin he could. So, with a calm nod, he accepted the deal¡ªpaying only one Nether Coin instead of two. The attendant handed over the change quickly. North kept his expression unreadable, offering only a brief nod of thanks. And with that, he turned on his heel, his new fancy clothes flowing elegantly behind him. ¡­ North¡¯s plan for the rest of the day sorted itself as he walked. First and foremost: secure proper income. Manual labor was out of the question now¡ªno self-respecting young master would be caught dead carrying crates, and he needed to maintain his new image. Second: acquire his first Image. For this, he intended to leverage his Base Template: "Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins." His Plot Armor had risen to sixteen percent¡ªpathetically low by any standard, but enough to keep him from randomly dying while crossing the street. Third, and perhaps most intriguing: test this installed Archetype and figure out template switching. The system had mentioned he could change between templates, but the ''how'' remained frustratingly unclear. Should he lurk near protagonists, hoping to catch some of their halo effect? Or was there some other mechanism he hadn''t considered? Where was the user manual? he thought with a touch of irony. Quietly lost in thought, North made his way toward a high pavilion that sold Images. His pockets were painfully light, but sightseeing and gathering information was free. And now that he had shed his hillbilly appearance, he doubted anyone would throw him out of an establishment. His new clothes carried presence. The dark, flowing fabric, the emerald accent and intricate golden embroidery, the way his earrings caught the light with every step. Everything about him now exuded quiet nobility. It didn¡¯t matter that he was broke. People would assume otherwise. As he walked through the bustling streets, he noticed something. Time to time, People were glancing at him, some openly, others just a brief flicker of their gaze. But no one treated him like an outsider anymore. Even though his facial features were slightly different from the locals, making him seem like a foreigner from distant lands; but it wasn¡¯t enough to cause alarms, at least not yet. Power was paramount in this world. And presence, and self-assurance? They created the illusion of power. He adjusted his sleeves, exhaling slowly. That was enough. For now. Fake it till you make it. Soon, the towering structure of the Image Pavilion came into view. A massive six-story building, its architecture intricate and ancient, standing tall at the heart of the city¡¯s commerce district. Red banners flowed from the upper floors, inscribed with elegant golden characters¡ª [Pavilion of Images ¨C The Seat of Personal Truth] This was it seemed where Visonary came to buy, trade, and refine their Images. ¡­ There was a constant flow of people at the entrance, reminding North of luxury boutiques back on Earth. The pavilion''s facade gleamed with crystals, their light catching on the ornate golden signage. Spirit beasts carved from jade flanked the entrance¡ªtigers whose eyes seemed to follow browsers, assessing their wealth and status. Groups of young girls clustered near the display windows, pointing at particularly spectacular Images floating in crystal containers. A pair of jade beauties glided past, their servants struggling with already-purchased Image boxes. An older Visionary lectured his daughter about the importance of choosing the right foundation Image. North dusted off his sleeve, straightened his posture, and walked inside like he belonged. The moment he stepped past the threshold, a faint pressure settled over him. It was supposed to be an Anti-Theft Barrier. Its effects were to prevent unauthorized removal of Image & Ensures Safe Transactions. No robbing the place. Not that he was planning to. North quietly made his way in, his gaze sweeping over the interior, taking in the sheer variety of Images encased in crystal containers. Each one had its own unique presence, carrying an idea that made it manifest. What had been mere pictures on his computer screen with descriptions, but now that he was standing here, surrounded by these fragments of truth, he realized how different it was from simply observing through a screen. Some Images hovered in their cases like delicate butterflies. Others took on stranger forms¡ªmolten gold that never quite solidified, a small cloud that sparked with tiny flickers of lightning, a worm endlessly chewing on a spectral leaf. There was even a simple potted plant, unassuming at first glance, but filled with quiet vitality. It could be directly planted into a Visionary Imaginary Island. They were beautiful. They were dangerous. They were power. And North needed one. He trailed his fingers along the edge of a display case, careful not to touch the crystal. His money was already limited; the last thing he needed was to get charged for breaking something he couldn¡¯t afford. Before he could linger too long, movement caught his eye. A young attendant, dressed in the elegant silk uniform of the Pavilion, approached with practiced grace. Her expression was polite but eager, likely mistaking him for a rich young master with deep pockets. North, naturally, had no intention of correcting her. He offered a nod, the perfect mix of indifference and mild curiosity. ¡°I was browsing,¡± he said, his tone just detached enough to imply he had all the time in the world. ¡°But I¡¯m curious¡ªaside from direct purchases, what other services does the Pavilion offer?¡± The attendant straightened, her eyes brightening at the question. ¡°Honored guest, the Pavilion provides several services beyond simple transactions. We offer Image Refinement for those seeking to enhance their abilities, Image Exchanges for Visionaries looking to trade, and exclusive Auction Events for rare and legendary finds.¡± North nodded as if these were all things he already knew. ¡°Anything else?¡± "Ah, Young Master has good timing! Besides our regular collection, we also offer a chance of reflection into The Mirror Self Reflection Fortune Mirror for fortune-favored Visionaries to obtain Images." Now that was interesting. North hid his reaction behind a contemplative hum, though his mind was already racing. Back when he was upgrading the Simulator, he had installed several types of gacha-like systems, a pseudo-gambling mechanic where lucky players had a small chance of obtaining powerful Images for cheap. It was meant to keep things engaging, offering just enough of a thrill to make the risk worth it. Some players had struck gold, walking away with legendary Images for practically nothing. Others had burned through their resources, only to end up with worthless junk. It had been a game of chance, a gamble for the bold. And now, it was real. North exhaled slowly, schooling his expression into something carefully unreadable. ¡°The Self Reflection Fortune Mirror,¡± he murmured. ¡°Tell me more.¡± Soon, the attendant girl led North down a spiraling staircase into a crowded dark hall. At the center of the circular chamber stood a mirror that seemed to drink in what little light existed, its surface occasionally rippling like disturbed water. Around fifty Visionaries clustered in loose groups, their quiet conversations creating a tapestry of whispered hopes and judgments. North watched as a young man approached the mirror, his hands trembling slightly. "Another Lustrous Sky Clan disciple," an older Visionary muttered nearby. "Fifth one today." "Look at his bearing," another responded. "No chance." "Shh, let the boy try. Though I''ve yet to see anyone succeed this month." The boy around fifteen or so years old stood before the mirror, its surface remaining stubbornly dark. He held his breath. So did everyone else. Then, the mirror turned black. Nothing. The boy exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging. No Image had formed. The Visionaries shook their heads, muttering. "As expected." "He wasted his money." "Too rigid in his thinking," a woman in elaborate robes commented. "The mirror requires something more... unique." "Next!" "Did you hear? Young Master Lei stood here for three hours yesterday." "The genius from Storm Palace? And?" "Nothing. Not even a flicker." The man stepped back, his expression carefully blank, but North could see it¡ªthe disappointment buried beneath forced indifference. A young girl took his place, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for the mirror. The crowd continued its hushed discussions. "She¡¯s young. She might have a chance." ¡°Not really. What I have seen is that an older person has a higher chance of getting an Image than a young one. Of course, it also greatly depends on luck¡± The attendant turned to North, her voice taking on an almost reverent tone. "This is the Self Reflection Fortune Mirror, a Rank 5 Treasure type Mirror Image.¡± North raised an eyebrow. "Rank 5?" She nodded eagerly. "It is the greatest treasure of the Pavilion of Images¡ªa relic that cannot be found anywhere else, not in the entire Lustrous Sky Clan, nor in any nearby sect or empire." North folded his arms, letting that information settle. A Rank 5 Image¡ªsomething at a level that even high-ranking Visionaries would fight over. "And what exactly does it do?" he asked. "It reflects fate & fortune," the girl explained, her voice carrying a reverence usually reserved for holy scriptures. "For those who seek an Image, it reveals whether they have already formed one in their past¡ªor if they have unconsciously attracted the potential for one." "And if they have nothing?" North asked, glancing at the long line of failures. The girl shrugged. "Then they have nothing." "Just like that?" She smiled. "Lucky is miraculous, honored guest." North exhaled slowly. So that was it. A mirror that looked into a person¡¯s truth, that searched for an Image that might already exist within them¡ªor created one, if luck allowed it. It was pure gamble. He didn¡¯t exactly remember coding any Gacha system exactly like this one, but ¡­ The world isn''t just running my code anymore. It''s creating its own rules, its own Images. Even my gacha system has evolved into... Well this. Another Visionary stepped up to the mirror. The crowd''s whispers started again: "His Rank''s decent..." "But look at his eyes¡ªno insight there." North''s eyes flickered toward the mirror, analyzing the situation. People had been failing one after another¡ªnewly turned Visionaries, rich young masters, even seasoned Visionaries. He had no reason to believe he would be any different. But if his Base Template¡ªWherever I Stop, A Plot Begins¡ªwas always in effect¡­ And he was going to take advantage of the fact. He turned to the attendant, his expression unreadable. "How much to try?" The girl blinked in surprise at his sudden interest, but quickly recovered her professional demeanor. "Only three Nether Coins per attempt, honored guest." North tapped his fingers against his sleeve, making a show of considering the price. Three Nether Coins was a grave gamble¡ªhis entire remaining fortune. But compared to the cost of buying an Image outright? Still, the real problem wasn''t the attempt itself. It was what would come after. If I succeed, everyone here will want what I gain, he thought coolly. And with my current power level, I might as well be a mortal holding a divine artifact. But he had another plan ready. Sometimes the best defense was having no defense at all. After all, who would believe a complete newcomer could succeed where prestigious young masters had failed? The very absurdity might buy him precious seconds. And besides, he had a feeling that if he stepped forward, something would happen. It always did. That was the nature of his template¡ªwherever he stopped, chaos followed. "Alright," he said, voice steady despite the stakes. The attendant''s smile widened, probably already calculating her commission. "Then, honored guest, please step forward when you''re ready." Time to see just how much chaos my template can generate, North thought, his hand moving to check his remaining coins. And how much of it I can survive. 1.9 [Turns Out Im Just Another User Discovering The Patch Notes] The attendant led North forward from the back of the crowd. The moment he stepped out of the shadows and into the dim light of the Self Reflection Mirror, the murmurings began. A ripple through the gathered Visionaries. Soft whispers, quiet speculation¡ªlike a tide of curiosity swelling around him. "Who is that?" "Which sect does he belong to?" "I don¡¯t recognize him¡­ but look at his clothes. He¡¯s no commoner." "Look at his bearing¡ªdefinitely from a major clan or sect." "He doesn¡¯t seem to be from any of the local clan. Could he be from the Southern Flame Academy?" An elderly visionary stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Must be from the Northern Ice Plains. Only those clans produce such fair features." His companion nodded sagely. "The Northern Ice Plains? You mean the Frost Jade Clans? That region rarely sends people out of their territory¡­" North kept his face carefully neutral as he approached the mirror, letting their speculation build. Every guess about his identity was another layer of protection¡ªafter all, who would dare offend a potentially powerful clan''s young master? The attendant stopped beside the massive, dark mirror, her hands neatly folded before her. She turned to North with a polite smile, her voice warm. "You may step forward now, honored guest." North nodded and took the final step, standing directly in front of the monolithic mirror. It loomed over him, vast and endless. A reflection, yet not. Would I get something? Or would the mirror remain dark, just as it had for so many others? What if I¡¯m just as talentless as the failures before me? No! North exhaled slowly, suppressing the thought before it could fully take hold. It doesn¡¯t matter if he got nothing, what mattered though was that he tried. Moreover, he deeply believed in his base template ability to attract trouble. So, the chances of getting nothing were quite low. For a brief moment, he caught his own reflection staring back at him. And then, he reached out and placed his hand upon the glass.
[Image Recognized: Self Reflection Fortune Mirror] [Image Rank: Rank 5] [Description: Its surface appears like black water under moonlight, with depths that seem to extend into infinity. When inactive, ghostly shapes move within its dark surface, forming and dissolving like smoke in wind. Can materialize Images that resonate with the viewer''s truth.]
At first, nothing happened. The gathered Visionary crowd began to shift, familiar expressions of dismissal and disappointment crossing their faces. Someone sighed. Another turned away. Another failure. A repeat of every other disappointment they had witnessed today. One of them whispered, "He¡¯s just like the others." The girl attendant beside him shifted uncomfortably, her earlier excitement fading. Even she seemed to think it was over. Then¡ªa ripple. The mirror''s surface trembled like disturbed mercury. North''s reflection dissolved, replaced by absolute clarity, as if the glass had become a window into somewhere else. And in that somewhere, a shape began to form. It was like an eyeless tadpole, but wrong in ways that made the mind stumble. Silver mist coiled around it, and through its small translucent form, North could see a glowing network of nerve-like structures, branching and reconnecting like a living map of thought itself. His hand slipped through the mirror''s surface before he could think. The sensation was impossible to describe¡ªneither solid nor liquid, like trying to grasp thick smoke that had thoughts of its own. The creature-thing coiled around his fingers, pulsing with alien life. "What¡­ is that?" "I¡¯ve never seen an Image like this before." The murmuring grew louder like a rising tide of uncertainty and fascination. But North wasn¡¯t paying attention. His eyes were set on the Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of hesitation, he pulled his hand back, his fingers sliding through the mirror¡¯s surface with an unsettling ease. The strange tadpole creature¡ªor whatever it was¡ªpulled back into the mirror as he withdrew his hand, the silver mist dispersing like smoke in the air. "Look at how it coils¡ªlike smoke but... alive somehow." "Never seen anything similar in the market." "No, no, you''re all missing the point," a white-haired visionary insisted. "Those patterns??? This young master may have stumbled upon something good." "It looks creepy, but the silver mist around it is pretty though," a young woman observed. "Wonder what it does?" North stared at the strange, eyeless creature in his palm, its silver mist curling like tendrils of thought.
[Image Acquired: Intuition Image] [Rank: 1] [Description: The Intuition Image does not crawl or fly conventionally. Instead, it phases in and out of physical space, appearing near the user''s temple, spine, or fingertips when activated. At times, it lingers just out of sight, flickering in the user''s peripheral vision, leaving behind faint afterimages¡ªlike a memory yet to happen.]
The Intuition Image? A rare Image. A strange one. Why would the mirror give me this? North wondered, watching it dance at the edge of perception. How does it relate to¡ª His mind buzzed with questions, but before he could even begin dissecting the implications, a sharp intake of breath from the crowd shattered the stunned silence in the hall. "That¡¯s¡ª!" A middle-aged Visionary, dressed in the refined robes of a scholar, took an abrupt step forward, his voice rising with recognition. "That¡¯s an Intuition Image!" His words rang through the chamber like a hammer striking metal. Another wave of murmurs rippled through the gathered Visionaries, louder than before. "What?!" "Did he say Intuition Image?" "But those are¡ª"If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. "They only occur naturally! No one has ever found a way to artificially create one!" "The Self Reflection Mirror actually created an Intuition Image?¡± The whispering turned to excited discussions, voices overlapping in a chaotic storm of speculation. North exhaled through his nose. He had expected this. Some stared at him with open shock, others with greedy intent. This was like tossing raw meat into a den of starving beasts. Some of them might have been standing for a whole week, who knew? The scholarly visionary raised his voice above the commotion. "Young Master, do you understand what you''ve found?¡± North raised a brow. He already knew that taking out this Image wouldn¡¯t go unnoticed. No matter what he did, there was bound to be drama¡ªor worse, some brainless idiot taking offense for no reason. He had prepared for this. It would¡¯ve been ideal if he could have used this Intuition Image as his foundation, shaping his path without unnecessary interference. But clearly, he¡¯d been thinking too far ahead. Alas¡­ North watched as the crowd''s energy shifted. Greed replaced amazement in their eyes. Visionaries who had dismissed him moments ago now pressed forward, their voices overlapping: "I¡¯ll pay you 4 Rain Coins for it!" A wealthy-looking merchant in fine robes stepped forward, his voice firm, his hand already reaching toward the coin pouch at his waist. "That¡¯s enough to buy at least two high-quality Images!" "This elder would offer 5 Rain coins¡ª" "Young Master, my sect would greatly reward¡ª" "Name your price, I''ll double it!" A jade beauty stepped forward, her smile calculated. "Surely a young master of your demeanor would not put mere Rank 1 image over friendship with my Frost Peak Sect¡ª" North inhaled deeply, suppressing a dry laugh. Of course, this was how it would go. His mind flickered through possible responses. He couldn¡¯t act too eager¡ªif he seemed desperate to sell, they¡¯d try to drive the price down and pressure him into a quick decision. He couldn¡¯t act too hesitant¡ªif he looked like he didn¡¯t know what to do, someone might decide to take matters into their own hands. Then, the attendant stepped closer to North, her voice low but carrying enough to reach the eager crowd. "Honored guest doesn¡¯t need to feel pressured. The Pavilion of Images ensures the safety of all customers within our premises." She paused meaningfully. "You''re actually our first success in three months." Her emphasis on ''within our premises'' wasn''t lost on North. Neither was the subtle warning in her professional smile. "Of course, you have options," she continued smoothly. "If you wish, you may sell your Image to the Pavilion directly. We are always prepared to compensate fairly. Keep it for yourself, or..." her eyes flickered to the increasingly agitated crowd, "You may also sell it to anyone you see fit." Her smile remained pleasant and neutral. North understood perfectly. It was not hard to figure he was just a Rank 1 Visionary. With his strength, the moment he stepped outside with this Image, he''d become a target. Some of these Visionaries looked ready to form blood feuds over a rejected sale. He''d seen enough young master dramas play out in his game to know how this would go¡ªwounded pride turning to resentment, resentment to violence. Fame is the last thing I need right now, he thought, watching the Image flicker at the edges of his vision. Especially fame for rejecting ''generous'' offers from powerful people. He straightened his robes and addressed the crowd with the perfect mix of regret and firmness that he''d coded into countless young master NPCs. "This one appreciates all the generous offers," he said, voice carrying clearly. "However, it seems most appropriate to sell to the Pavilion of Images, given their role in this fortunate encounter." A few faces darkened with disappointment, but none could openly object to such a diplomatic choice. The pavilion''s reputation and neutral status made it the one option nobody could reasonably protest. But, one younger Visionary, clearly from some aristocratic sect, scowled. "Hmph. A wasted opportunity." Another one, a middle-aged visionary, scoffed under his breath. "Tch. You could have gotten far more from the right buyer. It''s a rare image." North ignored them. "If you would follow me, honored guest," she said smoothly, gesturing toward a smaller hall off to the side, "we will finalize the transaction." North nodded and, without looking back at the crowd, followed her toward the exit. ¡­ ¡­ ¡­ After thirty minutes of negotiations, North sat in a private room within the Pavilion of Images. The luxurious chamber had been offered without hesitation¡ªa courtesy to the Visionary who''d provided them a rare acquisition. In his palm, the Borrowed Might Image flowed like a living river. It was in the shape of a small stream of water that mesmerized him.
[Image Acquired: Borrowed Might] [Rank: 1] [Description: Like a river that never resists the current but instead guides and redirects its power. When someone attacks, the river absorbs the force, redirects it, and sends it back like a crashing wave.]
North eyes followed its endless cycle, mind drifting as he contemplated his changed circumstances. The Intuition Image had been fascinating, certainly. The ability to sense danger before it struck would have been useful... if he''d had any way to actually handle that danger. At Rank 1, its warnings would have come barely thirty seconds before disaster¡ªjust enough time to know he was about to die, but not enough time to do anything about it. What good is knowing I''m about to get stabbed, he mused, if I can''t stop the blade? No, he had no regrets about trading it. The pavilion had valued it at six Rain Coins¡ªan astronomical sum for a newly awakened Visionary. Even after purchasing the Borrowed Might Image, he still had two Rain Coins left, equivalent to 200 Nether Coins. He could have gotten more if he sold it to the audiences, but why take unnecessary risk for a little bit of money? The 2 rain coins were already enough for him to buy a modest two-room house in the outer district of Lustrous Sky Clan''s territory, with plenty left over. Instead, the Intuition Image would serve better as an ingredient for higher-ranked creations anyway. Let the pavilion worry about that. He needed something immediately useful, something that could keep him alive long enough to grow stronger. His fingers traced the flowing pattern of his new Image. Yet, however, he tried to touch the water, it didn¡¯t wet his finger. Strange. It uses was that he could absorb most physical within its range and then hit the enemy with double the effect. It kind of acted both as defense and attack. He liked it very much. This would be his foundational Image, he made up his mind. This trade had transformed him from a defenseless Visionary with a valuable target on his back into someone with both power and resources. Not bad for a morning''s work, he thought, watching the stream-like Image ripple. From nearly broke to having both means and money. However, he couldn''t use it directly. There were proper steps that needed to be followed. First, this Image needed a place to live¡ªits own foundation, a stable domain to anchor itself. That place was his Imaginary Island. North''s perception shifted, and his consciousness arrived in his Imaginary Island. The familiar grassy space, no larger than the private room he''d just left, awaited his modifications. The Borrowed Might Image also manifested as a small, shimmering stream of water in his hand, flowing in midair with no direction. A stream needs a hill, he thought practically. Without tools, he dropped to his knees and began digging with his bare hands. The soil yielded easily enough, surprisingly soft under his fingers. But, two inches down, the soil became unexpectedly wet. Three inches, and everything changed. Violet liquid began seeping from the small patch of earth, pooling in his crude hole like otherworldly blood. "Nether Essence?" North''s voice cracked. "What the actual..." This wasn''t right. He''d coded Nether Essence to be like qi or mana, stored in Visionaries bodies. It wasn''t supposed to just... leak out of the Imaginary Island like some oil well. Had he messed something up? Or had his world evolved so far beyond his original design that even basic mechanics worked differently now? Panic seized him. Was his Imaginary Island bleeding out? Would he die when enough essence drained away? He frantically tried to refill the hole, shoveling soil back with desperate hands. But the ground seemed to have developed an appetite¡ªeach handful of dirt disappeared into what was becoming a bowl-sized well of violet essence. "How many more secrets are you hiding?" he muttered to his tiny domain. His head spun with implications. He grabbed his skull, waiting for the worst, for some system announcement about critical failure or imminent death. Thirty minutes passed. Nothing catastrophic happened. The hole sat there, now filled with what should have been impossible liquid essence, looking about as threatening as a garden water feature. Maybe this is... normal? North thought weakly. Add it to the list of things to ask about if I ever make any friends who won''t try to eat me. Pushing aside his existential crisis, he focused on the practical. He built up a small earthen bowl around the hole instead of a hill and carefully placed the Borrowed Might Image inside. The water-like Image revolved peacefully, trapped in an infinite cycle, seeming quite content with its new home. Then, an idea hit him. Maybe I should just buy a real bowl for it. A proper container¡ªyes, that made sense. But there was another problem¡ªBorrowed Might needed to be fed. And not just anything. It ate sweat. But not just any sweat. Sweat soaked in blood. Every seven days, it had to be nourished with effort, pain, and struggle. North sat there, completely speechless. Then he ran through his options: He could train until he sweated blood himself, or... maybe buy it from other Visionaries who fought regularly? Their sweat would already be enriched with power. He stared at his tiny violet well and his perpetually flowing Image, feeling somewhat speechless. He''d created this world''s rules, but clearly, they''d taken on a life of their own. I thought I was the developer, he thought wryly. Turns out I''m just another user discovering the patch notes. 1.10 [Settling In] After finally becoming a proper, real Rank 1 Visionary with a foundational Image, North departed from the Pavilion of Images with a lightness in his step. Everything had gone remarkably smoothly, almost too smoothly, and that alone put him in a good mood. Especially considering how absurdly easy it had been to obtain an Image¡ªit felt like a blessing falling straight from the sky into his hands. No toiling away for a year to gather enough money, no desperate bidding wars, no back-alley schemes, no fights with rabid Visionaries trying to snatch it away. Just him, a transaction, and an outcome so clean it almost felt suspicious. He also found it curious that the Self Reflection Fortune Mirror had given him an Intuition Image. Given his deep knowledge of the world''s mechanics, he''d expected something system-related, perhaps tied to his developer role. Perhaps it saw something I can''t, North wondered as he navigated the busy streets, watching beasts lumber past with merchant goods. The afternoon sun hung directly at the center of the sky, its golden light pouring over the city like molten metal. The streets were alive with noise¡ªhawkers shouting about their wares, Visionaries bartering in sharp, clipped tones, the distant laughter of children weaving through the throng of passing carts and beasts. A pair of jade beauties floated by on azure clouds, their servants struggling to keep up below. Yet North''s wariness grew with each step. His mind ran through the possibilities: At least one idiot would decide that he had somehow provoked them by not selling an Image at the right price. Another might have heard about the sale and assumed he was now carrying a small fortune¡ªripe for the taking. Given how poor these so-called "normal" Visionaries seemed, robbing others was one of the fastest ways to make a quick fortune. And also, statistically, one of the fastest ways to die. It would be a lie to say North wasn¡¯t afraid. But he also couldn¡¯t hide. Even if he holed up in some basement, his accursed base template¡ª"Wherever I Stand, A Plot Begins"¡ª would probably cause the roof to cave in, dragging him into some convoluted scheme regardless. Still, he had one advantage. His current appearance¡ªclean, well-dressed, the aura of someone important¡ªmight be enough to deter the lower-rank thugs from acting immediately. People hesitated to rob the rich and powerful, even if it was just an illusion. The subconscious fear of offending the wrong person was deeply ingrained in human nature. North sighed, deciding that was the best he could hope for. Then, his stomach let out a deep, disgruntled growl. He had been so busy navigating through the day¡¯s chaos that he had completely forgotten to eat. His first instinct was to head straight to a restaurant, but¡ª The memory of yesterday¡¯s restaurant fiasco surfaced immediately, unbidden: bow to Young Master Zhao just to keep his head attached to his shoulders. Thank god no one knows me in this world, he thought, exhaling sharply. Otherwise, that would''ve been way too humiliating. Then again, what did it even matter? He adjusted his mindset instantly. There was no shame in doing whatever it took to stay alive. Bowing, begging, humiliating himself¡ªnone of it mattered in the grand scheme of things. Survival had no morality, no right or wrong. His quick thinking had saved his life, and at the end of the day, that was the only thing that mattered. To solve his lunch problem, North decided that, since he was reasonably comfortable, he might as well go all out and find an expensive restaurant. It wasn¡¯t just about indulgence¡ªit was strategy. His reasoning was simple. First, he was in the Inner City of the Lustrous Sky Clan, where order was strictly enforced. He had already seen black-uniformed guards patrolling the streets at regular intervals, their presence enough to deter most Visionaries from starting a fight. That alone gave him a sense of relief. Especially since the city was currently overflowing with hidden dragons and crouching tigers due to the festival season. But as he thought further, the logic solidified. A powerful clan like the Lustrous Sky wouldn¡¯t just let rogue Visionaries murder people within their inner or core regions. They charged entrance fees, registered identities, and actively monitored those who entered. If Visionaries started killing each other in broad daylight, wouldn¡¯t that be a direct slap to the face of the ruling clan? A major clan couldn¡¯t afford to let their own city become a lawless mess. If they couldn¡¯t even protect their own borders, how were they supposed to maintain hegemony over an entire region? The more he thought about it, the tension coiling in his head began to unwind. He had been overthinking. Sure, danger was always lurking, but as long as he wasn¡¯t alone or wandering into secluded areas, the odds of being silently murdered in an alley were slim. At least during the day, he should be fine. With that realization, his worries lightened considerably. And so, he made his way toward the restaurant. ¡­ ¡­ The "Jade Spring Garden" restaurant occupied three floors of a floating pavilion, Expenditure of Nether Essence keeping it suspended above a carefully maintained herb garden. North chose a seat by the window, his dark robes and confident bearing earning him immediate attention from the servers. "Our spirit-infused specialties today include Cloud Mist Duck marinated in ten-year spring essence, and Mountain Heart Soup with ingredients gathered from the peak of Sky Pillar Mountain," the server announced, pouring tea that released tiny wisps of golden steam. North continued to tap the menu, his fingers trailing over the most expensive dishes available. Glazed Fire Duck ¨C roasted over spirit wood, its skin crisped to perfection, infused with mild heat from the beast¡¯s lingering essence. Heavenly Bamboo Soup ¨C simmered for three days, helps refine the mind and strengthen constitution. Nine-Treasure Seafood Bowl ¨C a mix of exotic ingredients pulled from distant lakes and rivers, good for vitality. Golden Moon Wine ¨C aged a century, carries the warmth of an eternal spring night. Finally, North flicked out a Nether Coin, spinning it lazily between his fingers with the casual grace of someone used to luxury before letting it land on the table. The metallic sound rang out softly. Though he acted rich on the surface, internally he was calculating every cost. ¡°Bring them all,¡± he said smoothly, leaning back into his chair. The server bowed quickly and disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, the first dish arrived¡ªa steaming plate of Fire-Phoenix Duck, its crispy golden-red skin glistening with fragrant oils. North picked up his chopsticks, breaking off a piece and popping it into his mouth. A burst of rich, smoky spice exploded on his tongue, the heat spreading in waves. The texture¡ªboth crisp and impossibly tender¡ªmade him close his eyes in brief appreciation. ¡°Damn,¡± he muttered, chewing slowly. ¡°This is¡­ way too good.¡± ¡­ As North enjoyed his meal, the restaurant remained bustling with noise, filled with Visionaries discussing clan politics, breakthroughs, and rumors of distant battles. But one table, in particular, grew louder and louder. A group of young Visionaries, a group of four men and two women, around sixteen or seventeen of age, sat laughing among themselves. They weren¡¯t causing trouble, but their laughter carried the unmistakable tone of arrogant self-importance¡ªthe kind that only young masters with wealthy backgrounds and minimal struggle could achieve. One of them slammed his cup down, his voice booming. ¡°Hah! Can you believe it? The great Bai Clan¡¯s genius got defeated in a single exchange? And by some no-name from the mountain clans?¡± Another snickered. ¡°The so-called ¡®rising stars¡¯ of these no-name clans always end up the same. A little fame, a little luck¡ªuntil they run into a real man.¡± Laughter erupted from the group. ¡­ "Brother Chen really showed that merchant today!" "Ha! His face when you revealed your Rank¡ª" "To prosperity and power!" It was nothing unusual¡ªjust a bunch of privileged people reveling in their own importance. North threw them a glance, hoping they wouldn''t¡¯ cause a sudden scene and quietly chewed and enjoyed his food. But, it seemed their voices soon irked someone. A man at a nearby table slammed his chopsticks down, the wood cracking under his grip. North glanced over subtly. The man was rough-looking, his robes patched from years of wear, but his eyes carried a sharp, dangerous gleam. A rogue VisionaryUnauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. "You bunch a lot," the man''s voice cut through the noise like a blade, "think your little powers make you untouchable?" He stood slowly, and the air around him grew heavy. "Allow this Chu Feng to educate you on proper restaurant etiquette." And then¡ªhe lifted a hand, revealing a glowing mark on his palm. A Rank 3 Official Visionary seal, issued by the Lustrous Sky to its members. The young Visionary visibly tensed. Rank 3 wasn¡¯t heaven-shaking, but it was leagues ahead of Visionaries Rank below them who didn¡¯t have proper funds, limited Images and a short window before they ran out of the Nether Essence. One of the young Visionaries¡ªone with a golden serpent embroidered on his sleeve, likely from a prestigious family¡ªnarrowed his eyes but forced a smirk. ¡°You expect us to tremble over a mere Rank 3?¡± His bravado was forced, his fingers twitching slightly. The rogue grinned. ¡°No, but I expect you to know when to shut up.¡± North leaned back in his chair, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine cup as he watched the tension in the room tighten like a coiled spring. The rogue Visionary stood firm, his Rank 3 strength pressing down on the younger visionaries like a weighted storm. The group of rich and arrogant hilly billies kept their expressions controlled, but the subtle shifts in their posture¡ªthe clenched jaws, the tensed fingers, the forced bravado¡ªtold North everything. They didn¡¯t want to fight. Not really. Their pride demanded they stand their ground, but their instincts screamed at them to shut up and back down. A fight seemed inevitable. North smirked slightly, lifting his cup to his lips, already preparing to watch the restaurant descend into chaos. Something disappointing happened. The restaurant doors swung open, and a broad-shouldered man in a dark traveling coat stepped inside, his face set in exasperation the moment his eyes landed on the rogue Visionary. "Oi, you¡¯re at it again?" The newcomer strode forward without hesitation, grabbing the rogue by the shoulder with a firm grip. The rogue jerked slightly, turning toward the man with a half-snarl, but the newcomer ignored it entirely. "Why the hell do you always bicker with juniors?" He sighed, shaking his head. "Let ¡®em be. If they¡¯re arrogant, someone else will break them eventually. They¡¯ll learn soon enough who they can and can¡¯t offend." The rogue scoffed, rolling his shoulders but not resisting as the man began dragging him toward the door. "They need to learn faster," he muttered. "If no one puts them in their place now, they¡¯ll keep walking around acting like they own the world." North hummed in quiet agreement. That man had a point. In his eyes, a beating now would do them some good. It would teach them that the heavens were vast, and they weren¡¯t at the center of it. But he also understood what the rogue¡¯s friend meant. They didn¡¯t need to be taught a lesson today. Sooner or later, someone else would knock them down. That was inevitable. The rogue didn¡¯t argue further. He shot one last glare at the group of young Visionaries before allowing himself to be pulled toward the exit. Then, they exhaled all at once, their tension melting away. One of them chuckled weakly. "What a lunatic." Another scoffed. "If we weren¡¯t in a public place, I would¡¯ve taught him a lesson." North nearly laughed at that lie. Instead, he simply lifted his cup, taking another sip of Golden Moon Wine as the atmosphere in the restaurant gradually returned to normal. The excitement had fizzled out, leaving only unspoken relief and awkward glances. By the time he placed his chopsticks down, his stomach was full, his mood light. The server hurried over, bowing deeply. "Thank you for dining with us, honored guest!" North nodded, stepping away from his table and making his way toward the exit. ¡­ Back on the streets, North wondered what to do next. A heavy wave of boredom settled over him, dragging in a creeping sense of sleepiness. Wandering aimlessly through the city after a full meal had dulled his urgency, and for the first time in a while, he felt directionless. Of course, he still had one major goal¡ªfiguring out the Template Archetype problem. But so far, despite all his walking, observing, and analyzing, he had yet to spot another person with the same pink crystal and character template hovering over their heads like Fatty and the Protagonist from yesterday. This led him to an obvious conclusion: Not everyone had them. If he had only seen two marked individuals so far, that likely meant the majority of the population could be treated as NPCs. Just background characters¡ªpeople without significant roles in the grand scheme of the world. Still, he needed to confirm his theory with more evidence. And what better place to do so than The Plum Garden? Tonight, the Festival of Session would continue there for the next three more days, and if Fatty was right, it would be crawling with interesting figures. Visionaries, rising stars, schemers¡ªthe type of people who actually mattered. If templates existed, then surely some of the high-profile individuals attending the festival would have them. So, North made up his mind. Tonight, he¡¯d go to The Plum Garden. If nothing else, watching the competitions and interactions might finally give him the answers he was looking for. In the meantime, North decided to find a place to stay for the rest of his time in the city. If he was going to settle down and grow here, he needed a proper base¡ªsomewhere he could rest, plan, and avoid unnecessary trouble. There were two obvious options. First, he could buy a house¡ªa long-term investment that would offer stability and security, but also cost a ridiculous amount of money upfront. Second, he could rent a proper place, something more affordable and temporary, giving him the flexibility to move around if needed. For now, he decided to explore his options. Wandering through the Inner City, North quickly realized that where he stayed would dictate how much trouble he attracted. The outer districts were filled with common laborers, struggling Visionaries, and wandering mercenaries who came to the city hoping to strike it rich. The inns and rentals there were cheap, but the risk of theft, unexpected fights, and general nonsense was far too high. He could already imagine waking up one morning to find someone dragging him into some feud. The middle-class districts were much better. These areas had a mix of small-time merchants, low-ranking Lustrous Sky clan members, and independent visionaries who wanted to keep a low profile but still have access to city resources. The inns & residences here were quiet, orderly, and well-maintained, with actual patrols keeping troublemakers in check. Then, of course, there were the high-end estates, places reserved for clans and sect-affiliated elites, wealthy merchants, and young masters who threw their weight around without consequence. The mansions were lavish, hidden behind towering walls and elaborate formations to prevent unwanted guests. While the security was tempting, staying here would be far too conspicuous. He¡¯d stick out like a sore thumb the moment someone realized he wasn¡¯t actually rich. North stopped by one of the rental offices in a quieter part of the city, a modest three-story building with ornate wooden panels and door talisman at the entrance. A clerk sat behind a carved jade counter, eyes flicking up briefly as North stepped inside. "Young master, looking for a place to stay?" the clerk asked, his tone professional but indifferent. North nodded. "Something decent, preferably with a quiet environment." The clerk flipped open a thick registry scroll and traced his finger down the list. "For independent rooms, we have standard inns, guesthouses, and private courtyard rentals. What¡¯s your budget?" North paused. He wasn¡¯t broke, but he also didn¡¯t want to burn through his funds unnecessarily. "What¡¯s the price range?" he asked instead. "For inns, 5 to 15 Nether Stones per night. Basic but safe. For guesthouses, 20 to 50 Nether Stones per month¡ªyou get access to a private room, kitchen and bathroom shared. For private courtyard rentals, you¡¯re looking at 80 to 150 Nether Stones per month. Secluded, peaceful, and good for long-term residents." North rubbed his chin. The guesthouse sounded appealing, but he didn¡¯t like the idea of living under someone else¡¯s rules and sharing his bathroom and kitchen. "Anything available for a short-term stay but with a bit more privacy?" The clerk nodded. "We have a small courtyard house available for 90 Nether Stones per month, minimum stay of one month. Comes with basic furniture. I''d say, it would suit young master taste perfectly." North mentally calculated. It wasn¡¯t cheap, but it wasn¡¯t outrageous either. "Can I see it first?" The clerk gestured toward a bored-looking attendant, who sighed before grabbing a ring of keys and motioning for North to follow. ¡­ The rental house was tucked away in a quieter part of the city, set between a few similar-looking properties. The courtyard walls were high enough to offer privacy, and the entrance had a modest formation etched into the wooden gate¡ªprobably a basic lock and alarm spell. Inside, the courtyard was simple but functional¡ªa small training area, a covered walkway, and a single-story house with two rooms and a modest kitchen. The furniture was basic but clean. North nodded in approval. It wasn¡¯t luxurious, but it was quiet, secure, and private. He could work with this. "I¡¯ll take it," he said. The attendant shrugged, handed him a contract, and walked him through the rental agreement. After signing the agreement and paying for the first month upfront, which immediately halved his savings, North received a key. With that, he was officially a resident of the Inner City¡ªat least for now. Stepping into his new temporary home, he exhaled deeply. Now, he could properly focus on his next steps. ¡­ ¡­ Later, North spent the rest of the day cleaning his new house, sweeping dust out of every corner and wiping down the modest wooden furniture with a damp towel. The place wasn¡¯t in bad condition, but after who-knows-how-long sitting vacant, a layer of fine dust had settled over everything. By the time he was finished, he smelled faintly of sweat and wood polish, but the house finally felt livable. At some point, he had stepped out to visit a nearby general store, pleasantly surprised to find that he wouldn¡¯t need to travel far for basic supplies. The shop was run by a middle-aged woman with sharp eyes and a quick tongue, though to his relief, she didn¡¯t try to overcharge him¡ªa rare thing in a city full of opportunists. Moreover, there was no electricity in this world¡ªnot in the sense that Earth used it to power everything. Instead, there were instruments created with installing Images like heat, cold, and so on in circuits like complex formations. These devices were powered by Nether Crystals, an expensive energy source that, from what North had seen, was far from affordable for the average person. He had only glimpsed them once at the restaurant with enough money to justify their continuous use. The impression he got was clear¡ªthese weren¡¯t common luxuries. For now, practicality took priority. He picked up basic necessities¡ªdried food, ink, parchment, and a set of candles¡ªitems that didn¡¯t rely on expensive Visionary technology. By the time he returned and stocked his shelves, the sun had dipped below the horizon. The air had cooled, turning crisp with the scent of distant street food and festival lanterns. North dusted off his new clothes, running a hand over the fabric. Luckily, he had removed the outer fancy garment while working, so they weren¡¯t dirty, but he made a mental note¡ªhe needed to buy at least five or six more sets tomorrow. Wearing the same thing day after day wasn¡¯t an option. As he stepped outside, he glanced up at the evening sky. The moon had risen, casting a pale glow over the rooftops, its light weaving between the city¡¯s golden lanterns. The first stars had begun to twinkle, faint pinpricks in the vast expanse above. The air was filled with the distant hum of laughter, drums, and festival chatter. The Festival of Session had surely begun. Then, a stray thought out of nowhere crossed his mind. Does this world¡¯s moon have phases like Earth¡¯s? Folding his arms, he made a mental note to observe the moon over the coming days. If it never changed, that would mean this world had a fixed celestial cycle, something entirely different from Earth. Shaking the thought from his head, North turned toward the bustling streets, stepping forward. Time to see what the Festival of Session had to offer. 1.11 [Four Character Template Variations] The Festival of Sessions was split into two distinct areas. Outside, the streets were alive with color and sound, where mortals wandered freely, indulging in games, performances, and exotic foods sizzling on open grills. Lanterns in hues of gold, crimson, and sapphire floated above the stalls, casting a dreamy glow over the celebration. Musicians played on stringed zithers and wooden flutes, their melodies weaving through the chatter of the crowd. But the real attraction lay beyond¡ªThe Plum Gardens, where only Visionaries were allowed entry. North, however, wasn¡¯t in a rush. Instead, he took his time wandering through the outer market, taking in the sheer variety of goods and practices on display. Rows of stalls and tents stretched as far as the eye could see, their owners calling out to potential buyers. Unlike a normal marketplace, this was a Visionary¡¯s bazaar, filled with items specifically crafted to enhance, strengthen, or modify an Imaginary Island. ¡­ One stall displayed vials of translucent liquid, labeled as "Midnight Dew", supposedly used to nourish Imaginary Boundaries and expand their growth. "Boundary Soil from the Thousand-Year Gardens! Perfect for growing plants in your Imaginary Island!" North stopped at a stall selling "Island Seeds Images"¡ªsmall, fist-sized spheres that could be planted inside a Visionary¡¯s Imaginary Island to cultivate permanent structures. Some promised to grow into stone fortresses, others into flowing rivers or deep caverns rich in Nether Essence. There were things here that had never existed in the original Simulator World¡ªitems he had never coded, mechanics he had never considered. North was especially intrigued by these Island Seed Images. The fact that they weren¡¯t expensive made them even more tempting. Of course, they were expendable one-time-use Images¡ªonce planted, they would grow into permanent structures but couldn¡¯t be reused or relocated. But that wasn¡¯t the important part. What made them truly valuable was the sheer variety available. The stall carried at least two dozen different types, each designed to enhance a Visionary¡¯s Imaginary Island in its own way. Some were practical, like an Image that could grow into a bed, a chair, or even a simple wooden house. Others were more specialized, like a small container that functioned like a refrigerator, ensuring that any food stored inside would never spoil. One of the most interesting ones was a vine seed that, once planted, would grow wine and food directly inside a Visionary¡¯s Imaginary Island. A self-sustaining supply. North had to actively resist the urge to buy several of them. His pockets weren¡¯t bottomless. After quickly weighing his finances, he realized he only had one and a quarter Rain Coins left, and he needed to spend carefully. Still, he didn¡¯t want to walk away empty-handed.So, he continued his search for a perfect and in budget resource as he strolled further. A crowd gathered around a woman demonstrating "Living Mist Formations" that could apparently help shape Imaginary Islands'' environments. Next to her, a scholarly-looking merchant sold manuals titled "Ten Methods for Image Enhancement Through Environmental Optimization." Anything that could help him deepen his knowledge of the world and Visionary, North bought it. of course, prerequisite was that it had to be cheap. Then he paused at a particularly busy intersection of stalls, where merchants tried to outshout each other: "Thunder Wolf Best Bone Powder! Strengthens thunder-type Imaginary Boundaries! Tested by the Azure Lightning Sect!" "Crystallized Yellow Dew! Essential for night-blooming spirit herbs! Three drops expand your Island''s growing potential!" "Ancient Wood Essence! Stabilize your Island''s foundation! Why build on common soil when you can have millennium-aged spirit wood?" A gruff man with burn scars¡ªprobably from handling thunder materials¡ªthrust a sample toward passing cultivators. "See the quality! Direct from the Thunder Peaks! Your Image will thank you!" ¡­ There were conditions he needed to meet before advancing to Rank 2, and one of the most important was growing his Imaginary Boundary. It wasn¡¯t just a passive requirement¡ªit was a process, much like a farmer tending their field. In fact, in some parts of the world, Visionaries were literally called Truth Farmers because of how they cultivated their Imaginary Islands. The growth rate of an Imaginary Island depended on two major factors. First, it naturally expanded by a fraction every day¡ªusually an inch, maybe half an inch, depending on the individual. Those whose boundaries grew quickly were considered more talented, as their natural growth gave them a huge advantage. Second, with each Rank increase, the growth rate slowed, halving every time until it eventually stopped altogether. This meant that the faster someone¡¯s Imaginary Island expanded early on, the better their long-term potential. Simply put, this one detail alone could dictate how far a Visionary could rise. North had no clue how fast his Imaginary Island was growing yet. And he wasn¡¯t going to just sit inside it and stare at the boundary, waiting to see the difference over weeks. Instead, he bought a measuring tool¡ªa small floating marker, standard equipment for Visionaries, used to track Imaginary Island expansion. At least now, he¡¯d have a clear way to gauge his progress. Thereafter, he continued strolling through the lively festival, taking his time to listen, observe, and collect information. There was no rush¡ªopportunities and knowledge were everywhere, and tonight was proving far more enlightening than he had expected. He came across a stall specializing in Image sustenance - materials necessary for Images to maintain their existence and power. Just as every Image manifested uniquely, their sustenance requirements varied wildly, each one as distinct as the Image itself. North''s own Borrowed Might Image, for instance, required a liter of bloody sweat every week - the essence of effort and struggle condensed into physical form. Similarly, for some Images, their sustenance was as simple as a rare mineral, a type of qi-infused water, or exposure to a specific elemental force. Such as an Image requiring nine types of spring water, each collected from different mountain peaks at precise moments of the lunar cycle. Others required more exotic fare - morning dew gathered from hundred-year-old spirit flowers, or the breath of meditation masters. Then there were the darker requirements. Images that fed on fear, on pain, on the blood of other Visionaries. Some even required their masters to consume specific items themselves, the Image feeding on the digested meat. The variations seemed endless, each requirement reflecting the fundamental nature of the Image it sustained. North saw a young woman in blue scholar¡¯s robes stepped forward next, presenting a small silver tablet¡ªlikely her Visionary license from the Losutorus Sky Clan. She was Rank 3 Visionary. ¡°I need fresh Writ Ink, do you have it?¡± she asked. ¡°Hold on a second young lady,¡± The stall owner fumbled through his containers for a good minute before pushing a black ink like bottle toward the woman, but clearly it was no ordinary ink. The woman tested it on a paper as she let a drop fall down, and in seconds, North saw the ink disappear. Leaving North to wonder what kind of Image she had. The woman carefully examined the liquid for the authenticity before handing over payment, her shoulders relaxing as if a looming concern had been addressed. Soon, a man in dark-red robes, looking vaguely like a traveling mercenary, stepped forward next. His voice was gravelly, tired. ¡°A Frenzy Lion Blood.¡± The vendor¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change as he reached behind the stall, pulling out a clay jug filled with thick, iron-scented liquid. ¡°Fresh, aged no longer than a day,¡± the vendor explained. The mercenary listed and inspecting the jug before tossing a small sack of Rain Coins onto the counter. North quickly moved on, weaving through the throng of festival-goers, but his ears caught onto a loud conversation happening nearby. A gruff older cultivator stood near a weapons stall, arms crossed, his voice thick with pride. ¡°My Slash Sword Image,¡± he boasted, ¡°won¡¯t accept anything less than Iron extracted from battle broken swords.¡± His audience¡ªa mix of younger Visionaries and curious onlookers¡ªlet out murmurs of interest. ¡°What happens if you try to feed it normal iron?¡± someone asked. The old man snorted. ¡°It rejects it outright. Dulls my sword, weakens my strikes. A true blade must be forged from battle, not raw ore.¡± Nearby, a jade beauty in flowing silver robes examined a delicate bottle of golden light, tilting it in her fingers as it cast a faint glow against her skin. ¡°My Beauty¡¯s Curse Image feeds on the admiration of others.¡± ¡­ ¡°Everybody simply calls it Decade Boundary Expansion Soil. Mix it with your Island¡¯s earth, and it helps expand the boundary naturally. No dangerous side effects, no unpredictable reactions. Most Rank 1 Visionaries start with this¡ªsafe, reliable, tested by generations.¡± North watched as another customer¡ªa young man with a thin, wiry build¡ªstepped forward and purchased a measure of the soil without hesitation. The merchant scooped out a precise amount with a flat wooden shovel, pouring it into a cloth pouch lined with faint inscriptions before handing it over. The transaction was quick, the buyer leaving without a word. Basic but practical, North thought. It wasn¡¯t flashy, it didn¡¯t promise miraculous breakthroughs, but it was exactly what he needed¡ªa safe way to test how these resources actually worked without gambling on something too exotic. North glanced back at the merchant. ¡°How much?¡± ¡°Fifteen Nether coins stones per measure, Young Master. Enough for one expansion attempt.¡± North nodded, counting out the Nether Coins stones from his pouch. The merchant accepted them with a practiced hand, quickly tucking them away into his sleeves before reaching into a sealed container. He pulled out a kilogram of the white powder, carefully wrapping it in a thin silk-paper packet before binding it with twine. As he handed it over, the merchant leaned in slightly and took a second look at his face, lowering his voice. ¡°If young master want something stronger, we also carry higher-grade variants, century old or even Millennium year old. More expensive, but far more potent.¡± North accepted the package, feeling the slight weight in his hands. He already knew that better resources existed, but he wasn¡¯t about to waste money before seeing how this one performed. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind,¡± he replied, slipping the package into his bag before turning to leave. ¡­ In the next thirty minutes, North had almost completely explored the market, weaving through the last few rows of stalls and taking in as much information as he could. He had spent the past hour and a half here, absorbing the sights, the transactions, and the strange nuances of how this world worked. Now, as he finally left the outer market behind, the moon stood fully visible in the sky, round and bright, casting its silver glow across the city. There wasn¡¯t a single cloud in sight, and the air had turned refreshingly crisp. A gentle gust of wind swept through the valley, carrying with it the mingled scents of roasting meats, floral incense, and the faint tang of wine from distant pavilions. North turned his gaze toward The Plum Gardens¡ªthe true heart of the Festival of Session. It should be full by now. He thought. The entrance was grand yet understated, flanked by tall stone lanterns carved with flowing calligraphy, their inscriptions softly glowing golden. The outer walls were adorned with vines of pink plum blossoms, shimmering faintly in the moonlight, casting a pink glow along the path. Fortunately, there was no charge to enter. Just a few guards standing at the gate, their expressions unreadable as they scanned the approaching young crowd. Their purpose was clear¡ªto ensure no mortals tried to slip in. As North neared, he passed unhurried, walking with calm confidence¡ªa posture that screamed wealth and status, the unmistakable aura of a young master from a noble clan.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.
[Blessed Land Detected: Lustrous Sky Clan''s Celestial Mirage]
As he stepped through the threshold, the full splendor of the Plum Gardens unfolded before him. The twilight he''d seen while working here had been transformed. The Islands floated at different heights, with thick streams of water flowing, defying gravity through the air. The verdant bamboo forest in the distance swayed in the wind. Visionaries(Mostly Young) gathered in elegant groups around tables spread through the gardens filled with pink plum trees and green grass, their jade cups catching the light as they discussed insights and politics matters. Dancers flew through the air, their flowing robes leaving trails of shimmering light as they performed graceful, otherworldly movements above the gathered audience. Each twirl and step was accompanied by a chorus of stringed zithers, soft percussion, and melodic flutes. There music and motion captivated even those who had long since become numb to mortal performances. North walked along the stream that wound through the gardens, its water so clear it seemed invisible over the patch of green grass. His real attention, however, was focused on hunting for those elusive pink crystals he''d seen above Fatty and the Protagonist''s heads. Perhaps I had to be closer to someone before I could see their template, he mused, watching the crowds from a distance. There definitely should still be at least a few, if not many, scattered throughout the gathering. After all, the Plum Gardens was filled with ambitious Visionaries¡ªthere had to be important figures here. With that in mind, he adjusted his approach. Rather than standing still and staring like an idiot, North casually made his way toward one of the long banquet tables, acting as though he was merely passing by. Moreover, he didn¡¯t know anyone here, and drawing attention to himself would be the worst possible move. To sell the illusion, he picked up a jade cup of wine from a nearby server¡¯s tray. Better to blend in than stand out, he thought, taking a careful sip. The wine was exceptionally good, smooth and subtly sweet with a lingering warmth that spread through his chest. Perfect. The group he approached had their own entertainment, women twirling gracefully. From time to time, they would drift too close, teasing the gathered young masters, who reached out in amusement, trying to catch them. Yet each time, the dancers slipped through their grasp, graceful and untouchable¡ªlike seals slipping through the waves. North observed all of this as he neared the table, but he didn¡¯t stop. Instead, he kept walking, staring subtly from the corner of his eye, hoping for something¡ªanything¡ªto appear. Nothing. No templates. No floating crystals. No visible marks that indicated these people were any different from the rest. His disappointment was immediate, but he didn¡¯t let it show. Without hesitation, he adjusted his course, smoothly veering away and making his way toward another table. He drifted between groups like a leaf on the garden''s streams, his expression carefully neutral as he passed by the various groups of young Visionaries, nobles, and clan disciples. A young man in a golden brocade robe, his sleeves embroidered with the emblem of the Giant Sun Clan, leaned forward, his voice filled with confidence. "The Plum Gardens may belong to the Lustrous Sky Clan, but let¡¯s be honest¡ªthis festival is just an excuse for them to remind everyone that they¡¯re still relevant." He chuckled, sipping his wine. "The real power in the region belongs to us¡ªthe Giant Sun clan, not the hosts of this gathering." A silver-haired woman, her features striking and cold, smiled slightly. "That¡¯s a bold statement. You¡¯d say that so openly in enemy territory?" The young noble waved his hand dismissively. "Hah, what can they do? Challenge me? If they did, I¡¯d crush any of their so-called young talents before the moon sets." The others laughed, though some exchanged calculating glances. North slowed slightly, observing. No Templates. For all their wealth and arrogance, they weren¡¯t part of the real story. A little further down, he came across another group of visionaries, they seemed to be members of various wandering factions, smaller than the dominant clans but filled with talent. One of them, a tall man with short-cropped hair and a dark blue sash, had his arms crossed as he listened to a shorter guy in black robes ranting. "I tell you," the short one growled, "that bastard from the Extreme Frost Sect thinks he¡¯s untouchable. Just because he ranked in the top five at the last Grand Exchange, he walks around like we should all bow to him." The tall man smirked. "You challenged him, didn¡¯t you?" A brief pause. The shorter disciple scowled. "I lasted a full exchange before he countered me." "You got folded instantly, didn¡¯t you?" Silence. The taller disciple laughed, clapping his companion on the back. "Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯ll avenge you properly in the city arena tomorrow." North took a casual sip of his wine, not stopping. Near the floating pavilion, he caught fragments of another conversation about the Festival: "The Four Seasons positions are the real prize¡ª" "Young Master Lin from Azure Cloud Sect is favored for Winter¡ª" "Don''t be so sure. I heard Yue Linxi has been preparing something special..." North''s attention sharpened at the mention of Yue Linxi. This was the jade beauty Fatty had warned about. He lingered, pretending to admire a nearby spirit fountain. Another group, their robes marking them as inner city residents, discussed recent events: "Did you hear about the Intuition Image at the Pavilion of Images today?" "Some unknown young master claimed it. Must be from a powerful background¡ª" "Strange timing, right before the festival..." North smoothly moved on, suppressing a smile at hearing gossip about himself. Little further away, a group of middle-aged men and women¡ªnone of them young competitors, but influential elders, merchants, and representatives of powerful families¡ªsat discussing potential investments. "¡­No, no, the Bai Clan heir won¡¯t last," one man said, swirling his cup lazily. "Mark my words. He looks impressive, but he lacks mental endurance. When he faces a real opponent, he¡¯ll fold faster than dry paper in the rain." A woman in lavender robes nodded in agreement. "You¡¯re underestimating the Wild Fang Tribe¡¯s rising star. The boy¡¯s a beast. If the Bai heir is all flash, then Fang Shi is all steel and blood." "That¡¯s what you think." Another man leaned forward, grinning. "Everyone¡¯s focused on the obvious names, but I¡¯ve got a dark horse in mind." "Who?" The man tapped his temple. "Li Yi." The table fell silent. Then, a few chuckled. "That kid from the mountain tribes? Please." "You laugh now, but you won''t when he¡¯s standing on the final stage." Li Yi? The Protagonist. And if these people were discussing him, that meant he was also here. North passed another table where young masters were discussing power dynamics: "The Lustrous Sky Clan''s influence keeps growing¡ª" "With this festival, they''re practically declaring themselves the dominant force¡ª" "Be careful who hears you say that..." Yet none of them had Templates. Come on, there has to be someone important here. North exhaled through his nose, keeping his movements natural, his steps leading him toward the quieter parts of the Plum Gardens. Near the bamboo forest, where the crowd thinned and the lantern light flickered softly between the swaying stalks, a man sat alone at a small pavilion. In front of him, a teapot steamed gently, filling the air with a rich, floral scent. The man¡¯s movements were unhurried, his every gesture refined as he lifted his cup, savoring his tea in elegant silence. Beside him, a woman played the guzheng, her fingers plucking the strings with precise, fluid grace. The melody wove through the night, adding a layer of unforgettable beauty to the already picturesque scene. The man himself looked the part of a perfect young master. And his aura. As a Rank 1 Visionary himself, North felt it instantly. A faint but unmistakable pressure. Not overwhelming, but refined. At least Rank 4. Maybe stronger. He looked like a man who already knew his place in the world¡ªand was simply waiting for the rest of the world to acknowledge it. North started to move closer¡ªthen stopped. His heart skipped a beat. Because above the man¡¯s head, floating like a silent declaration from fate itself¡ªWas a pink crystal. And within it, written in clear, unmistakable text:
[The Heaven''s Chosen One] [Blessed by fate, immune to misfortune, always finds lucky opportunities.]
North stared, stunned. Well, holy shit. He finally found one of them. Not just any character, either: The Heaven¡¯s Chosen One. A title so clich¨¦ it made his teeth itch, but at the same time¡­ it held undeniable weight. In any story, this type of person was an absolute force. The kind who rose above all others effortlessly. The kind favored by destiny itself. The kind who could turn a crumbling sect into an unshakable empire or slaughter armies alone without breaking a sweat. If this world followed any sort of logical narrative progression, then this man was destined for greatness. ¡­And right now, he¡¯s just sitting here, drinking tea like it¡¯s an ordinary night. North carefully didn¡¯t move closer. Instead, he positioned himself to observe from a safe distance. He wasn¡¯t the only one. A few other young masters were standing nearby, chatting among themselves while occasionally sneaking glances toward the seated man. They weren¡¯t directly approaching him, but their laughter was louder than necessary, their presence too intentional. They were trying to linger close without looking like they were lingering. Sycophants, orbiting a greater star. And then, North noticed something else. His pulse quickened again. The Heaven¡¯s Chosen One wasn¡¯t the only marked character here. North shifted his gaze slightly¡ªsubtly scanning the others standing within this social orbit. And just as he suspected: More pink crystals. Two of them. The first hovered above a woman standing a few feet away, near the edge of the bamboo grove. Her black robes bore silver embroidery, and her arms were crossed, her expression a careful mask of neutrality¡ªyet her eyes lingered on the Heaven¡¯s Chosen One, sharp and watchful. Her Template read:
[The Shadowed Phoenix] [A woman born from ashes, destined to rise¡ªbut never without blood on her hands.] [Marked by tragedy, tempered by ambition. Lives in the shadow of greater figures, waiting for her moment to strike. Often an avenger or a hidden power, underestimated until it''s too late. Has a deep connection with The Heaven''s Chosen One, whether as an ally, rival, or betrayer.*]
The second belonged to another young man, this one seated among the other young masters, his light green robes flowing lazily around him, his posture almost too relaxed. Unlike the others, he didn¡¯t seem particularly interested in flattering the Heaven¡¯s Chosen One. If anything, he looked mildly amused, as if watching a story unfold from the perspective of a distant spectator. His Template read:
[The Serpent Who Smiles] [A man who moves between truth and deception, his words sharper than any blade.] [Always watching, always plotting¡ªnever without an escape plan. A wildcard, his allegiance shifting based on where the most benefits lies. Can be a loyal strategist or a hidden traitor, depending on the circumstances. Masters the art of knowing more than he lets on. If he smiles at you, you should already be worried.]
North exhaled slowly, keeping his face impassive. This is it. These great characters always gathered together. And now there were three of them here. His gaze flickered around the green bamboo-lit garden, scanning the festival for any sign of Fatty and Li Yi. Where the hell are those two? Toiling away in some corner? Or that girl Yue Linxi finally did something to them? He silently wondered, but didn¡¯t care enough. Because at this moment, his attention was locked on something far more important.
[Base Template Archetype: "The Undefined"] [Due to your Undefined status, you may attempt to acquire new templates.] [Warning: Templates are not freely given. They must be earned through conditions or taken from others.]
What did that mean, exactly? He could take Templates? How? Through force? Trickery? Murder? And what kind of conditions were required to earn one naturally? ¡°System!¡± ¡°System! Who sealed your mouth shut? Why do you always act like tsundere?¡± However much he screamed, the system wasn¡¯t going to answer. That much was obvious. And that left him with one disturbing thought. How am I supposed to steal Templates from these people? His gaze returned to the three powerful figures before him, like two or three rank above him, but his gaze lingered on the glowing pink crystals hovering over their heads. Could he actually take one of those? Would he have to defeat them? Kill them? Outplay them? The possibilities ran through his mind like wildfire. But before he could even begin to formulate a plan¡ª Something slammed onto his shoulder. Hard. "WHAT THE¡ª" He stumbled forward, barely catching himself before he hit the ground face-first. His heart jumped into his throat, his body already preparing for a fight. North¡¯s head snapped to the side, eyes narrowing as he turned to face the assailant¡ªOnly to find a girl staring at him. Her brow furrowed, her head tilted slightly in confused curiosity. "Ahh!" She gasped in disbelief, "Hey, how did you turn over from Trash to Young Master just in one day? I did not even recognize you." North blinked, and his eyes rapidly dilated as he recognized her. Apparently, now, even she had a pink crystal and template over her head. A strange one at that.
[The Heaven-Touched Lunatic] [Warning: Was supposed to be the perfect Connate Lifeform, but Heavens did not tolerate her existence.]
"WTF¡­??!!!" 1.12 [The Tragic Jade Beauty]
[Was supposed to be the perfect Lifeform, but Heavens did not tolerate her existence.]
North didn¡¯t know what the rest of this strange girl¡¯s character template meant by ¡°supposed to be a perfect lifeform but not tolerated by the Heavens.¡± But he was absolutely certain of one thing. This NPC was a lunatic. Who attacks from behind and then laughs like a maniac? They weren¡¯t friends. Hell, this was only the second time meeting her, and the first time, she had tried to rob him while looking like a Jade Beauty. And when that failed? She had used some strange ability on him, slapping him with a debt of a pot of gold and a favor, which, to this day, he still wasn¡¯t sure was even possible. And now, here she was again, looking at him like some kind of unsolvable puzzle. North exhaled, slowly collecting himself. He dusted off his now-expensive robes, forcing his breathing to steady. His first instinct was to bark at her. But then¡ªhe hesitated. Because something felt off. Normally, when he looked at Visionaries, he could vaguely sense their strength¡ªsome kind of unseen interaction happening in the background of this world, as if his own status as a Visionary was subtly aware of others like him. Rank 1st gave him just a slight tingle in his fingertips. Rank 3rd and 4th made that feeling spread through his arms. For this girl? The sensation was too strange, too unreadable. That alone told him enough¡ªhe couldn¡¯t gauge her strength. Or she was using some stealth type Image to hide her Rank. Still, he had to at least maintain some dignity. Letting out a slow breath, he adjusted his sleeves, straightened his posture, and spoke with the deliberate tone of a young master. ¡°Has no one ever taught you not to attack people from behind?¡± It didn¡¯t matter what had happened yesterday. Right now, he was trying to maintain an image¡ªto sell himself as a proper young master, not a pushover. The past was already past, even if it had only been one day. The girl blinked at him, tilting her head slightly. ¡°What¡­?¡± She looked genuinely offended, as if he had just accused her of something outrageous. North narrowed his eyes. Is her head slow? Luckily, she didn¡¯t attack again, only folded her arms and huffed. ¡°I just wanted to know how you suddenly transformed from rags to riches. And you even became a Rank 1 Visionary.¡± North stared at her. ¡­That¡¯s your concern? Out of everything she could¡¯ve asked¡ªthat was what bothered her? The fact that he looked richer than before and had become a Visionary overnight? She certainly was Heaven touched lunatic. North exhaled again, shaking his head, forcing himself to stay calm. He was a big-hearted, magnanimous young master¡ªgracious, dignified, unbothered. There was no need to argue with barking dogs on the street. And besides, what could she even do to him inside the Plum Gardens? The festival grounds were filled with guards, hidden elders, and powerful figures. No one would dare cause real trouble here, at least not openly. Ignoring her, North instead focused on her template, willing the system to respond. System! The template is here, what should I do now? Silence. The godforsaken system was as useless as ever. North clenched his jaw, his irritation only growing. Fine. If the system wouldn¡¯t help, he¡¯d figure it out himself. He turned on his heel and walked away, resuming his slow patrol of the Plum Gardens. He had already gone through so much trouble just to locate these Heaven-Chosen and other character templates. Now, he needed to study them further, analyze their patterns, and figure out exactly what he had to do to earn their¡­ whatever it was he was supposed to earn. Except, he heard footsteps following him. North took one turn. Then another. Then a third, deliberately weaving through the crowd, passing different tables, stepping over bridges, and circling back through decorative pavilions. But she didn¡¯t stop following him. He suddenly halted, causing her to almost bump into him. He turned around sharply, raising a brow. "Why do you keep following me?" he asked, his voice edged with genuine frustration. The girl folded her arms, her expression unreadable. "You didn¡¯t answer my previous question¡­" she said, squeezing the words out. North stared at her. She was serious. She had followed him through half the Plum Gardens just to get an answer to a random question. He had met some strange people in his life. But this one? She was in a league of her own. Suddenly, he understood a phrase he had heard a long ago: predicaments only grew stronger as you let them follow you. "Pay me first if you want me to tell you." The words left North''s mouth with practiced arrogance. The girl¡¯s mouth opened, then closed. Her expression flickered between annoyance and disbelief before settling into a deep frown. "That¡¯s not possible," she said, shaking her head as if the very idea was absurd. North scoffed, not even bothering to hide it. "Then go somewhere else," he shot back, turning away. "Don¡¯t follow me." Without waiting for a reply, he started walking again, keeping his posture relaxed¡ªbut his guard up. He had no doubt she was the type to attack from behind again. Just to be safe, he activated Borrowed Might, letting the invisible stream of water coil around him, a chilling sensation wrapping around his skin. If she tried anything, she¡¯d find out real quick that he wasn¡¯t as defenseless as before. Yet¡­ she didn¡¯t follow. Good. Good riddance. Just as North let himself relax, a sudden weight pressed against his consciousness, a shift in reality itself. Then¡ª
[Affinity with ??? increased by +3.] [Fate Tie Deepened: 33%]
North froze mid-step. What the fuck? He glitched in place, almost tripping over his own feet. That was not the kind of system message he wanted to see. And what was wrong with this, last time too when he had not given what she wanted her impression of him increased, and now again. Did she secretly like being refused? Lunatic. Truly a Lunatic. He bolted. Without wasting another second, he turned on his heel and walked faster, pretending the message never happened. Fortunately, this time she didn''t use any of her strange ability on him. ... Soon enough, he arrived at one of the larger banquet areas, where long wooden tables were set up under hanging spirit lanterns, the air thick with the scent of grilled meats, fresh bread, and expensive wines. The best part was that everything was free. North grabbed a jade cup, filling it to the brim with strong wine, the sharp aroma burning his nose even before he took a sip. He needed this. One deep drink later, the warm burn spread through his chest, dulling the irritation that had been festering in his mind since that crazy girl showed up again. I just want to sit down, drink, and pretend none of that happened. With that thought, he picked up a plate of food, loading it with tender roast meat, fragrant rice, and crispy golden pastries, then sat alone at one of the empty tables. A few other Visionaries occupied nearby seats, engaged in their own conversations. None of them had Templates. So, he just focused on his food instead, slicing into the roast meat, savoring the perfect balance of spice and juiciness. "Who do you think has the highest chance of being chosen for The Session?" North¡¯s interest piqued slightly. The Session. The main event of the festival. The Four Seasons Titles¡ªWinter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn¡ªwere about to be given out, marking the strongest young Visionaries of the generation. "It¡¯s not a matter of talent alone," he explained. "The higher-ups don¡¯t just choose based on raw strength." "Then what do they choose based on?" "The general consensus¡ªwho has the biggest reputation, who stands unrivaled among the new generation." "That¡¯s ridiculous," another Visionary scoffed. "So if some famous young master is well-liked, he could be chosen over someone stronger?" The scholar nodded. "That¡¯s how it¡¯s always been. Strength alone doesn¡¯t rule the world¡ªperception does. The Session Titles are given to those who are seen as the future legends of this era." North chewed on a piece of roasted duck, thinking over the words. So it¡¯s not just about combat ability¡ªit¡¯s about being a figure that people recognize. Someone who¡¯s feared, respected, or worshiped. It made sense. The Session Titles weren¡¯t just about raw strength. It wasn¡¯t about who could throw the strongest punch or who had the most refined Image techniques¡ªit was about who was recognized. Who had a presence so undeniable that the people had no choice but to look up to them. And in that case? The three people I saw¡ªThe Heaven¡¯s Chosen One, The Shadowed Phoenix, and The Serpent Who Smiles¡ªthey¡¯re all guaranteed candidates. But then there were others. People he hadn¡¯t seen yet¡ªbut whose names still carried weight. And as North continued listening to the conversations around him, the names of several other contenders surfaced. ¡°Better choices?¡± A young man scoffed. ¡°Who do you have in mind? Li Yi? That country bumpkin from the mountains?¡± North didn¡¯t react, but his interest sharpened. ¡°He¡¯s not just some backwater hick,¡± the woman shot back, eyes flashing. ¡°Li Yi crushed Bai Xu in one move. You can say whatever you want about his origins, but he¡¯s proving himself. And in the end, isn¡¯t that what really matters?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t count out Fang Shi either,¡± someone said, breaking the brief silence. ¡°The brute?¡± ¡°The brute,¡± the man confirmed. ¡°He¡¯s not polished, but he¡¯s terrifying. Even if he doesn¡¯t get a title, he¡¯s going to make an impression.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. ¡°More like he¡¯s going to make a bloodbath,¡± another muttered. Laughter rippled through the group. ¡°Wei Yun might be the dark horse.¡± ¡°The Ghost Blade?¡± ¡°If he even shows up.¡± ¡°I heard he left the festival already,¡± someone whispered. Another shrugged. ¡°Or he¡¯s just waiting for the right moment.¡± ¡­ As time passed on, the conversations around the table shifted, moving away from the contenders for the Session Titles to something far more immediate. A man in crimson robes, his sleeves embroidered with wolf fangs, leaned forward, tapping the rim of his wine cup as he spoke. "All this talk about the Sessions is interesting, but let¡¯s be real¡ªnone of us are getting chosen." A few laughs, a few reluctant nods. "We''re just here to watch the big names tear each other apart," he continued, taking a sip of his drink. "Speaking of strength," another person with white scars on his hands leaned forward, "has anyone tried their luck at the City Visionary Power Ranking Board lately?" "What?" "The City''s Visionary Power Ranking Board." The words sent a ripple of distress through the table. Some nodded knowingly. Others grimaced, clearly remembering bad experiences. North, who had been half-listening, immediately focused. The man in crimson continued. "You know how it works. Every Visionary can challenge others to rank up. The higher your rank, the more respect¡ªand more importantly, the more resources you get." North raised an eyebrow. Now that was interesting. "How does it work exactly?" a newcomer asked, echoing North''s own curiosity. The scarred had explained: "You register for battles, set the stakes beforehand¡ªRain coins, Images, resources, whatever both parties agree to. Winner takes all." "Sounds simple enough," someone scoffed. "Simple until you''re facing someone who''s been hiding their true strength," a bitter voice cut in. "Lost my Wind Runner Image to someone who seemed like an easy mark. Turned out he was sandbagging his rank for easy prey." Someone groaned. "Don''t remind me. I lost three of my Images that way." Another disciple, dressed in black with a silver sash, nodded grimly. "Yeah. I tried ranking up last month¡ªbet one of my rare Images against some bastard from who had been fighting for too long, but always kept a low profile. Thought I had the upper hand. Turns out he had been hiding his real strength all along. I got obliterated in three moves." A nearby Visionary laughed bitterly. "That¡¯s how it goes. Either you rise like a king, or you get buried with nothing left. The ones who dominate the board aren¡¯t just strong¡ªthey¡¯re either insanely skilled or absolutely ruthless." "Most newcomers start too ambitious," the scarred hand voiced out. "They see the potential rewards and forget about the risks. I watched a fool bet his only Image last week¡ªnow he''s back to being a mortal." "Who holds the top rank right now?" another person asked, leaning forward eagerly. The crimson-robed man snorted. "Same as always. Gu Jin." "And who the hell is Gu Jin?" the same young Visionary asked, frowning. "The undefeated lunatic." "He has no clan ties, no sect loyalty. Just some wandering madman who only cares about fighting. He¡¯s been holding the top rank for two years." "Is it even possible to beat him?" someone asked hesitantly. "Not likely. But plenty have tried. And plenty have paid the price." There was a grim silence at the table. Then, another man grinned, eyes gleaming. "That¡¯s what makes it fun, though. Where else can you fight for real without getting killed? The ranking battles aren¡¯t like the polite duels sect disciples have in training halls. This is where people fight to win, not to show off technique." North could hear the hunger in the man¡¯s voice. It was the same hunger that drove countless Visionaries¡ªthe unrelenting need for resources. To rank up as a Visionary, one had to invest heavily in their growth, pouring everything they had into expanding their Imaginary Islands, purchasing more Images, and refining their foundation. But resources were scarce and brutally contested. And there were only a few reliable ways to gather enough wealth to support this path. One could be born into privilege, inheriting vast cultivation resources from a wealthy family or a powerful sect. Others, exceptionally talented, could receive sponsorships from major factions, earning them steady access to what they needed. But those were the rare few. For most Visionaries, the only real option was venturing into the wilderness¡ªthe chaotic, lawless lands beyond the safety of civilization, where danger lurked behind every shadow. There, they could hunt for rare materials, beasts, and unknown Images, hoping to return alive with enough profit to continue their path. But not many survived. And so, a darker alternative had emerged. If one couldn¡¯t earn resources, they could always take them from others. Looting fellow Visionaries was a common practice, a brutal shortcut that many resorted to out of necessity, greed, or sheer desperation. North pondered over silently. This world was different from the Earth. Far more ruthless. And it all boiled down to one simple truth¡ªPeople could become Visionaries, gain strength and power, either through hard work or luck. That single fact had reshaped the entire balance of power, altering the very way people lived, fought, and struggled. Unlike ordinary mortals, Visionaries weren¡¯t bound by the limits of human strength. They could grow, evolve, and, if their stars aligned, one day transcend mortality itself. The possibility of becoming an Immortal was what drove them forward. Freedom¡­and so on. Everybody had different dreams they strived to achieve. North set his cup down with a quiet clink. He had heard enough. The Session Titles were still two days away, and sticking around this festival was pointless. It was good that I decided to come. If I want to grow fast, I need to see this Visionary Ranking Board for myself¡­. And maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªtest the waters. He stood, stretching casually, ignoring the looks of mild curiosity from the people still deep in conversation. Time to leave. The festival grounds had started to quiet, some people turning in for the night while others continued to drink and boast. He walked at an even pace, letting his mind work through what he had just learned. The city streets were cool, the night air carrying the faint scent of food from the festival and distant laughter from late-night revelers. He strolled leisurely, weighing his options. Ultimately, he came to the conclusion, If he wanted to achieve his fate of being eaten by a bunch of Immortals¡ªto truly understand the power structure, to get his hands on real strength¡ªhe needed to step onto that battlefield. Not just as an observer. As a competitor. Tomorrow, he would visit the City Visionary Ranking Board. ¡­ The streets stretched quiet beneath the pale white moon, its light casting shadows along the high pavilion walls and winding stone roads. North sautered at a measured pace, hands tucked into his sleeves, his thoughts drifting for the first time in a long while¡ªnot toward survival, not toward strategy, but toward something more distant. Earth. It been two days since he arrived in this world? It was hard to tell with everything happening so fast. The chaos, the absurdity of it all¡ªit had consumed his focus, leaving little room for reflection. But now, under the cool silence of the night, memories of home crept in.Were his parents worried? Had they called the police? He imagined them searching, filing missing reports, trying to piece together the impossible. They¡¯d never find an answer. No one would. Who could possibly imagine that he was trapped inside a world of his own making? A strange feeling settled in his chest. Sadness? Worry? Yet, He had no way of returning immediately. He really wanted to go home. It would have been good, if he could jump in and out of this world based on his mood, like VR game. But, this world clearly wasn''t a game anymore. It had evolved beyond that point perhaps a long time ago. "..." A voice snapped him back to reality. A harsh, hushed whisper, laced with anger. North¡¯s steps halted instantly. His body moved before his mind fully processed the situation¡ªswift, controlled¡ªslipping into the shadow of a nearby alley. His breath steadied as he pressed himself against the cool stone wall, listening. Two voices. Arguing. Loud enough to break the night¡¯s quiet, but restrained enough that they were trying not to be overheard. That voice¡­ I recognize it ¡°You see now, don¡¯t you?¡± Fatty¡¯s voice was sharp, his frustration barely restrained. ¡°I warned you about that bitch Yue Lingxi yesterday! Did you listen? She was trying to get close to you¡ªto play you! And now look what happened!¡± Li Yi didn¡¯t reply, but North could hear dead silence. Fatty continued, relentless. ¡°She stole your Wings of Destiny Image.¡± North''s pulse quickened. Through the shadows, he could make out two figures in the adjacent alley. Above their heads, those pink crystals glowed faintly: [The Fatty Best Friend] and [The Heaven''s Favored Protagonist]. As for the Wings of Destiny, it wasn''t just any Image. It was a rare Luck type Rank 5 Image¡ªa powerful one, the kind that couldn¡¯t be created artificially, only naturally formed through some deep resonance of Truth in the world. That alone meant that Li Yi was more important than he had initially thought. Li Yi finally broke his silence, voice tight with suppressed rage. "I already landed a deadly attack on her. She won''t escape far. Might not even live long enough to complete her mission." Fatty scoffed. "And you think that¡¯s enough? You think she wasn¡¯t prepared for this? ...I even worry, if she even let you touch her." Li Yi remained silent, feeling uncomfortable by the question, but, all his answers were evident in the silence. Fatty exhaled sharply, his tone dropping. "I told you. She was working for the Fourth Young Master of the Lustrous Sky Clan." North stilled. So that was it. This wasn¡¯t just some random betrayal. This was political maneuvering at its finest. The Fourth Young Master. A minor player in the Lustrous Sky Clan¡ªa family struggling within its own internal power battles. He wasn¡¯t strong enough to fight for the clan¡¯s leadership outright, so he was digging in the shadows, setting up traps, eliminating potential threats. And now, Li Yi had become part of that game. Fatty''s voice grew colder. ¡°The moment you entered the city and took part in the City Power Ranking, he started digging into your past. The moment he figured out who you were, he sent that bitch after you." Another pause. North imagined Li Yi¡¯s face¡ªstiff, barely holding himself together. "You might not know," Fatty continued, "but his position in the clan is shakiest of all. Weakest Rank, least support. She might have seemed pure with her feeling for you at first, but you forgot who her master was.¡± Still, Li Yi didn¡¯t respond. Fatty let out a slow breath, but his next words cut deep. "Too blinded by so-called true love to see it." They seemed to be hunting Yue Lingxi. Probably kill her. North figured and cursed internally. He needed to get out of here. Right now. He didn¡¯t know if they had sensed him, but he wasn¡¯t going to wait to find out. Li Yi was Rank 3. Fatty was Rank 2. And him? North had some tricks, but if these two decided he was a liability¡ªHe¡¯d be dead in seconds. He shifted his weight, moving slowly, carefully. When he was sure he was far enough, he bolted. Not too fast¡ªnot enough to draw attention. But fast enough to disappear before they noticed. He slipped through narrow alleys, turned into empty streets, moving like a thief in the night. The voices grew distant behind him, swallowed by the quiet hum of the city. Only when he was several blocks away did he finally let himself breathe. That was too close. Too close. However, he barely had a second to exhale, to settle his thoughts, before he felt it. A hand¡ªcold and trembling¡ªlanded softly on his shoulder. His body went rigid. A system dialogue materialized before his eyes.
[Wherever I Stand, A Plot Begins.]
The air snuffed out of his lungs. A chill, deeper than the night¡¯s breeze, crawled up his spine as his fingers twitched instinctively, wanting to shove the presence away. But he forced himself still, controlled, steady. Slowly¡ªpainfully slowly¡ªhe turned his head. The first thing he saw were the fingers. Pale. White. Trembling. Bloody. The red seeped through, staining the fine silk of her sleeve, smearing against his shoulder in a ruinous contrast. And then, he saw her. The moonlight draped her figure in silver, catching the angles of her delicate face¡ªcheekbones sharp yet soft, lips slightly parted, breath uneven, pained. She was beautiful. Divine, almost. But North barely focused on her face for more than half a second¡ªbecause his attention snapped to her stomach. Her wound. Blood gushed from the deep gash, soaking through the layers of her white robes, turning the fabric crimson and dark. Yet, even with her body teetering on collapse, her eyes burned with fierce, venomous determination. Her grip on his shoulder tightened. A soft white glow radiated from her fingers. And then, she spat out a whisper, "If you don¡¯t do what I say, you¡¯re dead." North sucked in a cold breath. Oh, for fuck¡¯s sake. I just wanted to go home and sleep peacefully. Was I asking for too much? His heartbeat pounded against his ribs. Not just because of the warning, but because, suddenly, a pink crystal materialized above her head, and another system dialogue blinked to life before his eyes.
[The Tragic Beauty.] [A woman too beautiful to live, too cunning to trust, and too doomed to survive. In the end, despite her beauty and cunningness, all that remains of her is a lonely grave and unwept tears.]
1.13 [Morality, Survival, and the Mechanics of Power.] North couldn¡¯t believe this. He had been trying to escape Fatty and Li Yi¡ªto slip away unnoticed, to keep himself far from their blood feud with Yue Lingxi. And yet, here he was. Suddenly caught and trapped. And had an injured woman leaning on him, bleeding out, dragging him into her doomed narrative. If this wasn¡¯t bad luck, he didn¡¯t know what else could be. Somewhere behind them, Li Yi¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°I see blood on the ground. She must be near.¡± North¡¯s chest tightened. Their footsteps echoed through the night, too close for comfort. Yue Lingxi¡¯s grip on his shoulder tightened, her glowing fingers digging into his skin. Her breathing had grown ragged, her body trembling from blood loss. She was losing too much, too fast. Her robe, once a pristine white, had turned crimson from the deep gash in her stomach, and more blood continued to seep between her fingers as she pressed against the wound, trying to stop the inevitable. He could see fear and confusion in her eyes as she tried to threaten him to take her. North didn¡¯t think she would survive the next few minutes unless she received proper healing¡ªor had an Image that could heal herself. And judging by her pained expression, she didn¡¯t. He sighed. There was no avoiding this anymore. No slipping into the shadows and pretending he didn¡¯t exist. So, he stepped forward. And with Yue Lingxi leaning heavily on him, he moved. The only problem was that Fatty and Li Yi were rapidly tracking her blood. That meant they were right behind them. ¡°Where do you want me to go?¡± North hissed under his breath. Yue Lingxi''s eyes flickered toward him, clouded with pain. Sweat dripped down her forehead, making her face shine in the moonlight. "Anywhere," she rasped. "Anywhere but here." Her body swayed dangerously, and North had to quickly adjust his stance to keep her from collapsing. Damn it. She''s fading fast. How much longer until she passes out completely? His mind raced through options. They couldn''t stay exposed¡ªthe moment Fatty or Li Yi spotted him with her, he''d be marked as an accomplice. And he couldn¡¯t just ditch her either. Not because he felt some sudden heroic duty¡ªbut because if he tried, she might shave off half his shoulder with sheer spite alone. Maybe we just circle around until she loses consciousness, he calculated. Then I can bolt when she''s too weak to maintain that threatening grip. Still, he had to admire her tenacity¡ªeven grievously wounded, her mind remained sharp enough to maintain her threat. As North half-dragged, half-guided Yue Linxi through darkened alleys, his mind worked on two tracks. One focused on survival¡ªscanning for pursuit, plotting routes, listening for footsteps. The other drifted to darker contemplations. Why am I so calm about this? He ducked them behind a merchant''s cart as voices echoed nearby. There''s a dying woman bleeding out on me, and I''m treating it like a puzzle to solve. "They went this way!" Fatty''s voice carried from a street over. "The blood trail''s still fresh!" North pulled them into a deeper shadow, feeling Yue Lingxi''s grip weaken slightly. Her breathing had grown more labored, each step leaving a damning trail of blood droplets. He could hear their voices¡ªlow, determined, relentless. Their footsteps echoed off the stone roads, swift and confident, like hunters tracking their wounded prey. North should have felt something about this. Guilt. Pity. A sense of moral responsibility. But as he pressed forward, careful not to let Yue Lingxi¡¯s slackening body drag too much, he realized, he felt nothing. No sympathy. No guilt. No unease. Why? Was it the shock? The sheer absurdity of the situation? Or was it simply because this world wasn¡¯t real to him? Not yet. Not fully. He had created it. Programmed it. Written the parameters of how things worked. And yet, as he moved through it, as blood from the woman beside him smeared onto his sleeves, he realized something else. This world didn¡¯t feel fake. It felt real. Too real. And yet, his calm remained. Is it because I don¡¯t see them as people? Maybe. Maybe to me, they were still NPCs¡ªpre-programmed pieces, filling roles in a story I had left half-forgotten. Or maybe, deep down, he had always been like this. His grip tightened on Yue Lingxi as she stumbled, nearly dragging him down with her. He cursed under his breath, adjusting her weight, suppressing his irritation. ¡°Still alive?¡± he muttered. Barely, from the way she weakly cursed. ¡°...You wish I wasn¡¯t?¡± she rasped, her breath shallow. North rolled his eyes. ¡°I wish for a lot of things, but heavens doesn¡¯t give a damn about that.¡± Ahead, the alley forked. One way led back toward the populated areas¡ªrisky. The other disappeared into deeper darkness¡ªalso risky. He turned toward the darkness. Better the unknown than the predictable. As they moved deeper into the alley, North¡¯s mind wandered to something else. Her Images. Could he take them? If not all, the rare Wings of Destiny Image would be enough for him to reach at least Rank 6 without any hard work. Also, back in the simulator, when a person was killed, their Images were usually transfer to the victor. A crude but effective loot system. But would it work here? Would her Images transfer to him if she died? The idea gnawed at him, not out of greed, but curiosity. If I kill her, will I get her Images? It was a logical question. But even as he thought about it, he knew the chances were low. This world had already proven itself flawless¡ªno broken mechanics, no obvious exploits, no glitches. Nothing had worked the way it did in the simulator. It annoyed him. Not because he wanted to kill her and take her power, but because he couldn¡¯t. He was bound by the same rules as everyone else. A noise¡ªtoo close. North shoved them both behind a stack of crates, his hand clamping over Yue Lingxi¡¯s mouth, muffling her sudden breath of pain. The sound of footsteps. Li Yi and Fatty. They had reached the fork in the alley. North barely breathed. ¡°We¡¯re close,¡± Li Yi muttered, his voice sharp, deadly. ¡°She¡¯s bleeding too much. She won¡¯t last much longer.¡± Fatty let out a bitter laugh. ¡°You finally sound convinced.¡± Li Yi didn¡¯t answer. A moment of pause. A second too long. Then, Li Yi took a step toward the dark alley. North¡¯s heartbeat pounded. Shit. Then, another sound¡ªvoices, further down the street. A group of drunken merchants stumbling out of a teahouse, laughing too loudly, cutting through the quiet of the night. North pushed himself up, feeling the brief relief of the momentary escape, but the weight against his side didn¡¯t move. He glanced down and found her slumped on the cold stone floor. He tried to help Yue Linxi stand, but her legs had lost all strength. Her eyes, once sharp enough to threaten him minutes ago, now couldn''t focus on anything. The glowing hand slipped from his shoulder as her consciousness wavered, her body crumpling to the ground like a puppet with cut strings. Her eyes were unfocused, blinking rapidly, as if trying to grasp onto reality but failing. She was muttering something, soft whispers of jumbled nonsense, her voice weak, delirious. Shock. Her body was shutting down. "Why didn''t he save me?" "Why?" "Why? He said he loved me. He would come get me, so why?..." "...Was it all a lie." Her mind was unraveling. The white moon above bathed her in its cold glow, its silver light making her seem almost ethereal¡ªa spirit on the verge of fading from existence. And below her, Blood pooled. A stark, rich crimson, spreading like ink across the stone. North¡¯s chest tightened. A strange coldness settled inside him. What¡¯s the meaning of life if it ends so easily? One moment, you breathe. The next, you bleed out under the moon. No grand exit. No epic last stand. Just a slow, painful decay into silence. Yue Lingxi¡¯s body began to tremble. Blood had begun to fill her throat, slipping past her lips, choking her every breath. It leaked from the corners of her eyes, from her ears, from her nose. Her seven orifices spilled out the last breaths of her dying body, her essence draining onto the cold, uncaring ground. North¡¯s fingers twitched. He knelt beside her, taking her hand. It was still warm, still human. He''d never known her story, never understood what drove her into these deadly schemes. But in these last moments, none of that mattered. NPC or not, she could be said to have the same red blood that he had in his veins. She was someone pitiful who was dying alone in an empty street. His grip tightened slightly. A small, insignificant comfort. But it was something. For a fleeting second, her eyes cleared. The haze vanished. She saw him. And then, the tears came. They gathered at the corners of her eyes, mixing with the blood, spilling silently down her cheeks as she pleaded. Her lips moved, voice barely a whisper. "I don¡¯t¡­ want to die." Her breath hitched. "Please¡­ save me." Her fingers weakly curled around his. "I have to¡­ I have to¡­ see my parents again." A shaky, broken gasp. "They might¡­ be waiting for me." Above her head, the pink crystal flickered like a dying flame:
The Tragic Beauty [Status: Final Scene] [Template Transfer Initiated]
[The Tragic Beauty Template: Integrating..] [New Archetype: ''The Tragic Beauty'' Has Been Acquired.] Reconstructing Physical Parameters to Fit New Template.
North suddenly stared at the flood of floating messages with growing horror. His mind stalled for a single, stunned second. Then, Panic. Pure, unfiltered panic. No, no, NO¡ªwhat in the fuck is happening?! The first change hit like a wave of burning ice. His chest suddenly felt heavy, constrained by robes that no longer fit quite right. His hips shifted, bones and flesh restructuring themselves with a sensation that wasn''t quite pain but made him want to scream anyway. His fingers¡ªslender now, delicate, almost disturbingly dainty¡ªtwitched in the air as he lifted them before his face. His legs felt¡­ longer? Or was it just the proportions of everything shifting? Holy fuck, am I turning into a goddamn Jade Beauty?! "No, no, no," North gasped, stumbling away from Yue Lingxi''s body. His voice came out higher, softer. Wrong. His hands flew to his face, feeling the subtle changes in bone structure¡ªsharper cheekbones, softer jaw, features rearranging themselves into something more delicate. His heart slammed against his ribs, the pure horror of realization sinking deep into his bones. He could feel it. His body was different. Not entirely¡ªnot fully transformed¡ªbut enough that he knew if this didn¡¯t STOP RIGHT FUCKING NOW, he might wake up tomorrow with an entirely different set of anatomy. His hands shook, sweat breaking out over his skin as he forced himself to stare at the system dialogue again, praying to whatever cruel gods were watching that he was hallucinating.
[Template Transfer: 32% Complete]
32%?! No, no, NO! Turn it back! Turn it back! UNDO! CONTROL Z! He clenched his fists, his entire body coiled with tension, with dread, with pure existential terror. He could feel it still happening. Tiny, minute changes creeping through his muscles, his bones, his very essence. STOP! SYSTEM, YOU PIECE OF SHIT, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!
[Gender Characteristics: Adjusting] [Warning: Process Cannot Be Interrupted]
His breathing turned shallow, a mix of disbelief and sheer horror consuming his entire existence. This wasn¡¯t some random joke. This was a Template Transfer. I¡¯m going to kill that system. I¡¯m going to rip it apart with my bare hands if I have to. The worst part? Yue Lingxi was dead. Which meant he couldn¡¯t give the template back. He also finally understood what he had to do to acquire these templates to kill these goddamn NPCs. He squeezed his eyes shut, inhaling sharply. Okay. Okay, calm down, calm down first. Let¡¯s think logically. He forced himself to go through the facts: He had acquired the "Tragic Beauty" Template. It was actively rewriting his body. The transformation was still incomplete. If he didn¡¯t find another template FAST, he might fully turn into some goddamn ethereal beauty that would attract even more problems than he already had. But, where could he find another template, they exactly didn''t grow on trees, nor could he steal them from Fatty or Li Yi.This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. I refuse. I absolutely refuse to live like some delicate, tragic fairy in a fucking Xianxia world. North took a step back, hands gripping his own arms, trying to anchor himself to reality. His breathing slowed, forcing his mind into control. The panic was still there, simmering, coiled around his ribs like a living thing. But panic wouldn¡¯t help him. Thinking would. Okay, first step¡ªfigure out how to STOP this transformation before it reaches 100%.
[Physical Integration: 47% Complete] [Jade Beauty Characteristics: Manifesting] [Warning: Original Template Receding]
"Stop," he whispered, but his voice was barely recognizable now. Even his throat had changed, producing tones that could charm birds from trees. His hair was lengthening, darkening, becoming silk-fine and flowing. His collarbones, sharper, more defined¡ªno, not sharp, graceful. Everything was trying to turn into something too delicate. Too alluring. Too Divine. He gritted his teeth and looked down at Yue Lingxi¡¯s lifeless body, her blood still fresh, still warm. This all started with her. And it had ended with her. Now, it was his problem. His curse. North straightened, squashing down the lingering dread in his stomach. He bolted. His feet slammed against the dark cobbled streets, his breath ragged, his body trembling with something more than exhaustion. Run. Just run. Get away from all of this. Behind him, the city stretched on, indifferent to his suffering. Ahead, the night was vast, endless, swallowing him whole. But no matter how far he ran, the system refused to let him forget.
[Physical Integration: 72% Complete] [Surreal Charm: Catastrophically Increasing] [Note: Template Adapting To Host]
North wasn¡¯t even sure if he was screaming in his mind or out loud. His chest hurt. Not just from exertion, but from the unnatural weight pressing against it. With every frantic step, he felt a foreign bounce, a shifting pull on his balance that had never been there before. How do women run like this?! His new body was more agile, yes. Faster, lighter, built with an eerie, unnatural grace. But none of that mattered. He couldn¡¯t care less about how elegant his movements had become. Because the rest of him was falling apart. He didn¡¯t and couldn''t think about Fatty and Li Yi. He didn¡¯t think about Yue Lingxi¡¯s corpse, bleeding out under the cold moonlight, waiting for some poor soul to find her in the morning. He didn¡¯t think about what the clan authorities would do once they realized their ¡®Tragic Beauty¡¯ had met her fate far earlier than expected. He didn¡¯t think about who would come looking for her murderer. ... His borrowed courtyard house finally appeared. North practically fell through the door, slamming it behind him. His chest heaved with exertion and panic, the unfamiliar weight there making each breath a reminder of his transformation. With trembling fingers, he loosened the now ill-fitting robes. The mirror. He had to see. Had to know. North stumbled to find the small mirror in his room, then froze, staring at the stranger who looked back. A woman. No. Not just any woman. A Jade Beauty. Her long, silky hair cascaded in waves, darker than the midnight sky outside. Her eyes, bright and deep, shimmered with a quiet, haunting intensity. Her skin¡ªsmooth, flawless, too perfect for anything human¡ªlooked like it had been sculpted from polished jade. Her lips, soft and pale, parted slightly in breathless disbelief. Her delicate shoulders, her slender fingers, the graceful curve of her waist¡ªAnd her chest¡­. Even the horror in those eyes somehow made the overall effect more striking. That¡¯s not me. That¡¯s not me. That¡¯s NOT ME. But the mirror didn¡¯t lie. And neither did the system. ¡­ ... After fifteen minutes of struggling, wrestling with his own thoughts, North lay sprawled on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. His body felt heavy, not from exhaustion but from the weight of something heavy pressing down on his chest. His mind spiraled, trying to make sense of it all. Contemplating his future, his next possible steps.
[Template Acquisition Complete.] [Base Template: Wherever I Stop, A Plot Begins.] [Available Archetypes: 2] [Installed Archetype: The Tragic Beauty.] [Would you like to view your current Template Traits?]
North groaned. "Do I have a choice?" he muttered, his voice¡­Lighter. Softer. A slight shiver ran down his spine.
The Tragic Beauty [A woman whose existence invites both admiration and ruin. The heavens envy her, men desire her, women resent her, fate torments her. No matter where she stands, she is both the heart of adoration and the eye of the storm.] [The Tragic Beauty is destined for suffering. Love and devotion follow her, but so does betrayal and calamity. A lifetime of fleeting happiness and eternal sorrow awaits.] [Your mere presence will attract both saviors and executioners alike.] [Hope is but a temporary illusion.] [Misfortune is your most loyal companion.]
North listened and stared. His/Her''s dainty hands clenched the bedsheets. He/she forced himself to sit up, barely suppressing a flinch at how unfamiliar his own body felt. Alright. Deep breath. Let¡¯s break this down. The template is a walking magnet for chaos. People would either fall for tragic beauty, try to protect her, or try to ruin her. Her life would be a constant balancing act between fleeting happiness and absolute suffering. Fate itself seemed determined to see her suffer. There was no ¡°good ending¡± to this. North closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and exhaled through his nose. And then, it suddenly hit him. Wait. What about my original template? "System," he spoke aloud, voice still uncomfortably melodious, "what happened to my Installed Archetype: The Undefined?" To his surprise, the system didn''t ignore him unlike other times, and responded immediately:
[Template Interface Accessed] Available Templates: [Wherever I stand, A Plot begins (Base Template)] [The Undefined (Base Archetype)] [The Tragic Beauty (Acquired Archetype) (Active)] You may switch between available Templates at will...
North stared at the floating options, hardly daring to hope. Was it really that simple? Was this nightmare reversible? With trembling fingers¡ªstill delicate and feminine¡ªhe reached out mentally and selected "The Undefined." The change was immediate. A rush of warmth flooded his body, like stepping into sunlight after a long winter. His chest flattened, shoulders broadened, hips narrowed. Each shift felt natural, painless¡ªnothing like the violent transformation before. He watched in the mirror as his original features returned, the ethereal beauty melting away to reveal his familiar face.
[Template Shift Complete] [Original Form Restored] [Installed Archetype: The Undefined] [Note: Multiple Templates Now Available] [Warning: Each Template Carries Its Own Fate]
North touched his face, his real face, letting out a laugh that was properly deep and male. "I can switch between them," he whispered, amazement replacing panic. "The previous templates/Archetypes are not deleted, but stored separately!" He tried again, selecting "The Tragic Beauty." His body flowed into its jade beauty form smoothly. Then back again to his original self. Each transition was easier than the last, like his body was learning the paths between forms.
[Warning: Each Template Carries Its Own Fate]
It made sense. Too much sense. North swung his legs off the bed, standing slowly, letting himself adjust back to the familiarity of his own body. Everything felt normal again. Real. He glanced at the floating text still hovering in his vision. Relief made him dizzy. He hadn''t lost himself¡ªhe''d gained options. The tragedy-bound jade beauty was now just one face he could wear, one role he could play, while maintaining his true self underneath. Instead of being trapped in one template, I can move between them¡­ He fell back on his bed, now in his original body, letting out a long breath. The panic of the last hour felt distant now, replaced by fascination with the possibilities. He wasn''t stuck as a doomed jade beauty¡ªhe had choices. North began to analyze the implications of his new ability. Two completely different identities, he mused. Each with its own advantages and risks. As his male self, he could maintain his young master facade¡ªmysterious but not attention-grabbing. It was safer, more practical for daily life. But as the jade beauty... that template carried both power and danger. He switched templates briefly, feeling the change wash over him. His jade beauty''s body template contained an otherworldly charm that could entrance anyone. His features were somewhat similar to Yue Lingxi. Though, he didn''t care much about that. This kind of beauty was a weapon in itself, but also a target. That was why she was dead right now. Also, according to the system. He wasn¡¯t just switching masks¡ªhe was stepping into entirely different roles within the world¡¯s story. What did that mean, then? Could he choose his own destiny by carefully selecting which template to install? Could he avoid the worst fates by staying undefined? Or was the act of switching already sealing his doom in ways he couldn¡¯t see yet? His lips pressed into a thin line. It was a gamble. The more he thought about it, the more he saw the possibilities. He could infiltrate places he had no business being. He could disguise himself as someone else entirely. He could manipulate events in ways no other Visionary could. But I need rules, he realized. Strict ones. First, never transform where anyone could see. The connection between his identities had to remain absolute secret. Second, use the jade beauty form sparingly. That template carried a tragic fate¡ªevery moment in that form risked triggering devastating plot points. Third, develop distinct personalities for each form. His male self could be the calm, strategic young master. The jade beauty... perhaps a mysterious figure who appeared rarely, like a dream. I could even have them ''meet'' occasionally, he thought. Create a public connection between my two forms to explain any similarities. But the real advantage lay in template acquisition. If he could take templates from others, could he store and switch between them too? Build a collection of identities, each useful in different situations? The more templates I acquired, the more faces I would have. And the more faces I had, the more threads I could pull from the shadows. It wasn¡¯t just about power¡ªit was about control. Like a puppet master, orchestrating events from behind the curtain, subtly guiding the flow of the world without ever stepping directly into the light. Others fought for strength, fame, or immortality. I would fight for influence. Because power that was seen could be challenged. But power that remained unseen? That was absolute. I need to test the limits carefully, he decided. One wrong move and I could end up with a dozen tragic fates all trying to manifest at once. But first, he thought, switching forms one more time just to confirm he could, I need to master this. Perfect the transformations. Learn each forms'' strengths and limitations. ... ... The moon continued its journey across the sky as North planned, its light falling on features that could change at will, while somewhere in the city, someone had discovered Yue Lingxi''s lifeless body¡ªand with it, the beginning of his own complex path. Li Yi and Fatty stood over Yue Linxi''s body, moonlight casting harsh shadows across the scene. The, Li Yi crouched beside her without hesitation, his fingers moving with quickly as he searched her body. He turned over her sleeves, ran his hands through the folds of her robes, checked the hidden seams and fastenings. His breath stayed even, his movements methodical¡ªuntil they weren¡¯t. With every passing second, his searching grew more frantic. "Where is it?" His movements grew more frantic with each empty pocket, each searched fold. "The Wings of Destiny Image¡ªit has to be here!" His jaw tightened, fingers curling into fists before he forced himself to breathe. Slowly, he looked up at Fatty, who stood a step behind him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Fatty shook his head. "It¡¯s either destroyed, or the Fourth Young Master sent someone to take it from her," Li Yi muttered, his voice low but sharp, edged with something dangerously close to frustration. Fatty exhaled through his nose, rubbing his chin as he considered the situation. "She couldn¡¯t have put the Image in her Imaginary Island," he pointed out. "It still contained your will. That means it had to be taken physically." Li Yi¡¯s brows furrowed deeper. The logic was sound. "The Fourth Young Master must have sent someone to intercept her, then," Fatty continued. "If he wanted the Image badly enough, he wouldn¡¯t have left it to chance." Li Yi pushed himself back onto his feet, dusting off his hands in a slow, deliberate motion. His expression was unreadable, but his silence spoke for itself. Then, after a moment, "But why let her die?" There was a hint of something unsettling in his tone¡ªa little grief, perhaps pain, but also something cold. Like a man trying to fit a missing piece into a puzzle that no longer made sense. "If she was close enough to him to be given this task, then she must have been important to him." He flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off a thought he didn¡¯t want to entertain. "Still¡ª" Fatty gave a short, humorless laugh. "She lasted as long as she was useful." He glanced down at her body, his expression detached, as though he were looking at nothing more than discarded goods. "She was used and then discarded. What¡¯s so hard to understand?" There was no emotion in his voice. Just fact. "And now she¡¯s dead in some nameless alley. That¡¯s all there is to it." For a brief moment, neither of them spoke. Then Fatty tugged at Li Yi¡¯s sleeve, voice dropping lower. Urgent. "We need to leave the city tonight." Li Yi looked at him then¡ªreally looked at him. "It¡¯s not safe here anymore," Fatty pressed. "This is murder inside the Inner City. They¡¯ll use everything in their power to find the culprit. And given her ties to the Fourth Young Master, it could escalate even further. "Let¡¯s just hope they don¡¯t send anyone to track us down." Li Yi turned his gaze back to Yue Lingxi¡¯s lifeless body for the last time. She was already a part of the past. And he had learned a very expensive and great lesson. Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked off, slipping into the night without a sound. Fatty hesitated for only a breath before following. The alley remained silent, empty¡ªexcept for the dead, who had no more say in what came next.