Xin, still lying in the shallow water, opened his eyes.
Above him, he saw the moon, raining water from the sky. He stared, sure that something about the phenomenon was abnormal.
He brushed it aside, confused. He remembered dreaming—of that much he was sure—yet no detail returned to him. Despite his desperate search for answers, memory evaded him.
He was sure that he was dreaming.
A faint, stony clapping echoed through the waters. Gentle voices drifted through the misty air.
"The moon's really making it rain," an old man's voice said awkwardly.
Startled, Xin understood them and quickly hid behind the triangular lid, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Lim'ur, are you sure you saw and heard the Simurgh here?" asked the first man, stopping midway across the barren shallows.
Xin peeked and glimpsed three men with spears and indiscernible expressions, their skin dark as ink—everything about them felt ancient to him.
"Yeah, it was here. The divine creature walked like a chicken!" Lim'ur replied, scratching his neck and pointing in the same direction Xin had awoken.
"Do you know why?" the first man questioned, giving him a grave look.
"Probably Lim'ur just got tired and saw something," the third man said, glancing at Xin from the corner of his eye, though he continued speaking, "something like that."
Xin grew anxious as they exchanged a fleeting glance, then quickly hid behind the structure, heart pounding.
"I saw it clearly—the simurgh, the winged wolf," Tim'ur insisted honestly.
The three men bickered like brothers, though they appeared entirely foreign to Xin's eyes.
Suddenly, Xin realized: it was best to hide within the structure.
The first man then spoke, "Maybe you stumbled across a Taec fruit—that's gone missing. If you think about it, that might explain what you saw."
Hiding like a rat, Xin opened the lid, but found the interior far too deep. Doubt gnawed at him.
How could he escape again if he hid there?
Tim'ur was adamant: "Kras! Trust me, I really—" The third man approached, shifting tones: "That's strange—where did this come from?"
As footsteps approached, Xin climbed inside.
Clunk.
He clung to the lid's ring as it closed, trapping his fingers. Pain lanced through him—a silent, distorted scream tearing at his mind.
Flustered, Tim'ur glared at Kras.
"This is new," Kras said, hopping atop the structure.
Xin heard muffled voices overhead, punctuated by a heavy thud as the lid pressed down harder.
In agony, he whimpered, shuddering with paranoia, afraid they'd caught him. Tears of pain blurred his vision as he dangled helplessly.
"You're acting weird today, Tutu!" Tim'ur snapped.
"I've seen too many interesting things today," Tutu replied above, running his spear through his hair.
Thud.
A lighter thud this time—like a stick tapping out a rhythm. The pressure increased.
Tim'ur paused just below Tutu, noticing the structure.
"Relax, it's just a flower—an orchid," Tutu declared.
Xin wept quietly, enduring fiery pain in his joints.
Tim'ur's eyes lit up. "Wait—you mean a woman? You saw the witch here?"
"What!?" Kras barked, unamused. "You saw a witch? Why didn't you tell me!?" He punched Tim'ur's head.
"I wanted to have fun," Tim'ur sniffled, drawing Kras's ire. "Fun? She looked too good for words—"
"How can you tell she's a witch?" Tutu cut in, stopping them.
After a pause, Tim'ur explained quickly: as the woman spoke, water shaped itself into a ball. That frightened him, so he fled—the Simurgh ran off like a chicken.
In his cramped hiding place, Xin recoiled—his hand brushed against something musty: a corpse.
He tried to retch, but nothing came; he gagged and arched his back in anguish.
"Believe me, she was beautiful. Her white—"
"Is she really gorgeous?" Kras pressed.
"I only saw her eyes," Tutu said, flamboyant, twirling Tim'ur's severed head on his spear.
Xin heard Tutu whistling a lively tune. Silence fell—he didn't hear the others anymore. Blood started dripping onto Xin's forehead, painting his clothes red.
Conversing with the decapitated head, Tutu skewered it, then revealed another victim—Kras, a woman hidden behind a man's mask.
"Such unique weather—and such unique creatures. At times like this, one could die of boredom," Tutu mused, leaping from the platform.
Xin waited for the pressure to lift, then slipped free, finally.
Suddenly, a stunning brightness stabbed at his eyes, blotting all detail and assaulting his nose with a metallic stench.
He covered his watering eyes, painting his face red as the glare eased. Shapes began to coalesce behind the light—a nightmare made visible.
"Shit!" Xin gasped as he fought to hold back vomit.
Before him lay two headless bodies, sprawled like butchered animals—only a psychopath would leave such a sight. Their bodies were intertwined, blood gushing like fountains.
His hand bled, fingers purple and useless, pain radiating from his limp arm joints. His vision swam; hunger consumed him.
"The 1st Plain, the Evernight Hell. Is this… the world I deserve? Am I going to die again?" Xin whispered, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Questions raced through his mind—who to blame, did he deserve this, was this really it?
"Tutu, I'll kill you, you sick freak!" Xin screamed before retching uncontrollably.
The thought of dying again broke him. As he closed his eyes, someone whispered:
"You can't," said a childlike, ghostly voice.
When he opened his eyes, everything was white—a vast void stretched into eternity.
It felt ethereal and strange.
He died…
He looked around but saw nobody. Trying to speak, he found he had no mouth, just a single eye without a body.
Floating alone, he stared at a familiar stat panel:
Ye Xin /█/ Lvl. I
HP: 10/10 Stats: Normal
Mind: 22/30 Stamina: 09/15 RP: 10
STR: 10 AGI: 5 DEF: 3 INT: 12
◙|Survivor|5| Inventory: [][][][][][][][][][]
↓Maximise↓
"I'm dead… again," Xin thought to himself.
"You can't," the mysterious voice repeated.
In an instant, his battered body materialized again.
Thud.
He collapsed to the ground, unmoving. Water gathered and formed a pillar around him, lifting him upright until he stood, though he felt nothing.
He watched his blood swirl and return to his veins. He could not breathe, encased within the water as it washed over him, head to toe, mending and restoring him.
—A shaman in red climbed atop a stool and opened a large book before the gathering crowd.
He inhaled deeply, then called out, "Hear me as I recite the words of our creator." He turned the pages, his voice rising, "I alone am the Truth, and by mine authority bestow thee wisdom of mine utmost order!"
The crowd paused, attention fixed on him.
With newfound confidence, he tucked the book away and spoke from memory.
"Time streameth always forward; none may return, nor may it be halted, nought endureth forever—all that doth exist shall meet its end in time—" "he reads grandly, whilst he gestures.
An old man cackled from the crowd, "You hear that? That's a joke!"
Mind your own business, old man!
"As thou livest, while time remains, dwell not on days bygone and cherish what is thine. Three..." the shaman barked, deliberately ignoring the heckler.
Another voice rang out—a young man in yellow: "If anything's a joke, the young master is the biggest of all!"
People burst out laughing, the marketplace filling with mirth.
"He pissed himself before 'Beloved Scholar Cheon Ma' and fainted!" the old man bellowed, grinning. "As expected of 'The Drifting Star, Shin Iseul'—blind and deaf, and still he brings laughter."
"Hope he rots in Everell," the youth sneered.
Hope you rot in hell too, you bastard.
Anger reddened the shaman's face, but he pressed on and wrapped up his speech.
Clap!
—"One, two, three, four, five, six, and finally seven." He carved runes on the ground with his sword. "With these, you can manipulate fate through luck—"
"And you got 300 of those?" a nearby merchant yelled as he turned over a seventh-grade core. "Are you sure?"
The merchant dismissed the shaman's melancholy with a wave.
"Yeah... I'm sure," the shaman muttered as he fiddled with his rings.
"My name is Go. And yours?" Go offered, handing over a plaque and a bag of coins. "Go on."
Lost in thought, the shaman finally answered, "Ye Xi... Ye Iseul," as he accepted the items.
—Meanwhile, Ye Xin was unconscious, encased in a watery cocoon.
A colossal shadow shifted, waves of air clearing the water and exposing scarred ground below.
Looming above it, it crashes into the ground, sliding closer and closer as it finally crashes into him.
Crash!
Staying still, the water pillar pierces across the hull, splitting the ship into a wreckage as it slides far from him.
Wood groaned and splintered all around.
The watery pillar exploded, sending Ye Xin sprawling across the barren shallows.
A shimmering blue butterfly rested on his brow, then drifted away between his eyes.
He woke with a gasp, recalling, "A dream—a dream I remember."
A nightmare of a dream.
Clad in red, Xin glanced beside him and saw a corpse.
"Oh. Right," Xin sighed in resignation, accepting that he had transmigrated.
He wandered across the endless shallows, past the ruined hulk of the ship, his anger rising.
"Fucking hell!" he yelled, alerting a band of black-armored spearmen.
Fweet!
A sharp whistle rang out—a call for reinforcements. Xin tensed as warnings raced over the water.
Within seconds, a spear flew at him. Without thinking, his unruly tail swatted it aside, though it grazed his face, drawing a line of blood.
"Whoa... tch!" He glared. "What the hell did I ever do to you?"
They encircled him, scattered around the wreck, spears readied.
Their leader, adorned in feathers and with his head painted in white, stepped forward.
"A talking game!" he shouted, beating his chest as his warriors advanced.
"To hell with that, white-head!" Xin snapped.
A pillar of water erupted between them, knocking down spearmen.
Xin grew dizzy, and his vision began to blur. Black feet crowded his sight, and a rope dragged him away.
Above him floated a translucent panel:
Ye Xin, survivor, has met the conditions for the quest "Aegere & Aefer."
The moment he opened his eyes again, he glimpsed a monstrous, tower-like structure—his new destination.
They hauled him into a bizarre, spiraling prison, cut his restraints, and tore off his soaked clothes.
Mistaken for a woman.
"A male!?" the man exclaimed, licking his lips as he started to strip.
Lightheaded, Xin's tail slammed the man's head into the ground, knocking him out cold.
"Disgusting bastard," Xin muttered.
A long-eared woman shrieked, "Why did you kill him?"
Xin, slowly gaining his consciousness, spun to face her in the darkness and swiftly knocked her unconscious for being too loud.
There were a dozen naked women in the cell, some pregnant, some weeping in anger or grief. Xin, lost in shock, pounded the man's head into pulp without truly registering it.
He felt nothing—worse, it felt natural. That terrified Xin most of all.
The mangled head oozed blood in a puddle; to Xin's horror, a woman began eating it. He retched, his disgust now a haunting memory of this world—Everell.
These women seemed empty, living only to breathe.
A lost cause.
At the cell's edge, a tattooed woman stared at him with vacant, inked eyes. She widened them, startled, as she saw the system panel floating before him.
[ Level Up X1 = |1| ]
Her first word to him: "Help," then, as she began chanting, "Sparkle!"
Her glowing tattoos lit the murky chamber, but the others kept eating.
Xin, Huries, dressing himself in makeshift clothes.
His concerns grew—before the woman, a translucent figure floated, mirroring his own.
"But how?" Xin whispered, sitting quietly by the rails.
"A system. It's the only thing that can get us out..."
She sobbed and stammered while speaking.
He pulled her gently to his side. "It's okay. Keep going," he encouraged.
-In just seconds, Xin's bodies splattered in every direction, painting the inside of the tower red.
"Strange, I thought he was an orchid, but to my surprise, he was the same as me, Gladiolus."
Xin, in the white Void, hears someone speaking again.
Distribute all Raising Points to defense.