Ji Chen rubbed his sore eyes and saved the final spreadsheet. The clock in the corner of his screen read 23:47. The office was already deserted—not even the cleaning lady was around.
"Here we go again..." he sighed.
As he packed up his briefcase, he accidentally knocked over his coffee mug. Luckily, it was already empty.
Outside the building, the early summer night was thick with humidity and the sharp scent of car exhaust. Ji Chen loosened his tie and shoved it into his pocket. Too tired to care, he decided to take a shortcut home through the old town district. The alleyway was dimly lit—one he'd usually avoid—but tonight, exhaustion trumped caution.
Turning the third corner, a bone-chilling gust of wind slammed into him. Ji Chen shivered.
June? Why the hell is it this cold?
Bang!
A thunderous crash echoed ahead, as if something massive had slammed into a wall. Ji Chen instinctively slowed his steps, keeping close to the wall as he crept forward.
At the end of the alley, in an open courtyard, a woman in a black trench coat was locked in combat with a humanoid shadow. The shadow had no face, no eyes, no mouth—only a warped, flickering green aura that twisted with each inhuman movement.
Ji Chen's eyes widened. He clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming.
That thing—it wasn't a hologram or projection. He had seen it slam its hand into a cement wall, leaving behind five claw marks, each three inches deep.
A silver flash tore through the air. The woman's blade sliced across the shadow's shoulder, and it let out a piercing shriek. But the next moment, the creature retaliated—its claw plunging straight through her abdomen.
Thud.
She collapsed to her knees, blood gushing from the wound.
Ji Chen's heart pounded like a drum. His legs felt like lead, frozen in place. Then, she looked at him. Across more than twenty meters of shadow and chaos, their eyes locked.
The shadow bent over her, seemingly searching for something.
Suddenly, the woman surged forward, throwing something toward Ji Chen with all her remaining strength.
"Don't let the Heavenly Tome fall into the hands of the Night Owl Society!" she shouted.
Slash!
Blood erupted from her throat as a silver arc carved it open. Her body went limp.
Ji Chen instinctively caught the object she threw—a jade scroll, ancient and icy to the touch. The shadow snapped its head toward him. Though eyeless, Ji Chen could feel it staring.
Run.
Adrenaline surged. Ji Chen bolted.
Behind him came a shrill, skin-crawling scream. He didn't look back. He dashed through the maze of alleys, lungs burning, legs pumping, until he stumbled to a stop, gasping for air.
Only when silence fell did he dare glance down at the object in his hand.
The jade scroll shimmered under the streetlight, carved with intricate patterns that seemed to ripple faintly in the moonlight.
"What the hell is this…" Ji Chen panted, hands slick with sweat.
Suddenly, the scroll grew hot—painfully so. Ji Chen yelped, trying to drop it. But the jade had already begun to melt—no, fuse—with his palm.
"AHHH!"
Agony shot up his arm and through his body. Ji Chen fell to his knees, eyes wide as visions flooded his mind: rivers and mountains, stars and galaxies, strange, spinning runes.
Then, five golden characters burned into his consciousness:
The Grand Art of Celestial Genesis.
When the pain faded, Ji Chen found himself lying outside his apartment door, drenched in sweat. He staggered inside and splashed cold water on his face.
In the mirror, he looked pale, shaken. But in the center of his right palm, a faint imprint of the jade scroll glowed softly.
"Heavenly Tome… Night Owl Society…" Ji Chen muttered. "Did I finally go insane?"
He lay down, sleep nowhere in sight. The runes from earlier began swirling in his mind again—one passage, in particular, shining brighter than the rest. Next to it were three words:
Qi Induction Chapter – The Method of Sensing Spiritual Energy.
"…Might as well try."Ji Chen laughed bitterly, sat cross-legged on his bed, and followed the instructions—adjusting his breathing, relaxing his body.
Ten minutes later, he felt a strange prickling sensation on his skin, like tiny static charges dancing across his pores.
As he continued the breathing cycle, those currents flowed inward, seeping through his skin, threading into his muscles and bones like warm rivers.
"This… can't be real."
He opened his eyes—and saw it.
The air around him sparkled with countless tiny motes of light, pulsing in rhythm with his breath.
The cycle completed.
A warm current began circulating inside him, unbidden. Ji Chen swayed, overwhelmed by exhaustion. Within seconds, he was asleep.