Smoke still lingered in the air.
I stood there, half barefoot on cold tile, staring at the black scorch mark where an instant noodle cup used to be.
I couldn't take my eyes off my fingers. They didn't look different. No glowing veins, no mystical symbols, no arcane tattoos. Just the same hand that used to rest against Yao Lin's cheek, the same hand that used to scrape greasy dishes in the back kitchen of that noodle stall on Nanyang Road.
But now they had power. Real power.And I didn't understand it at all.
"Snap + Command Word + Target in Line-of-Sight."
That was what the screen said. So simple. Too simple.
I sat down slowly, heart still pounding. My mouth was dry, and I realized I hadn't even drunk water since I got home.
I walked over to the sink, filled a cracked ceramic cup, and took a few gulps.
The taste of smoke still clung to my throat.
I didn't sleep.
Not because I was scared.Because I couldn't stop thinking.
What were the limits? Was it only for "explode"? What if I said something else?Could I change the effect?
I paced across my tiny apartment in silence, stepping over laundry, a dusty air purifier I hadn't turned on in months, a pile of rice cracker wrappers. It felt like I was walking on a different planet now.
I stopped at the window and looked out.
Outside, Shanghai continued like nothing had changed. Neon buses hummed down the elevated roadways. A couple laughed under a shared umbrella, crossing the street. A food delivery rider sped past, yelling something about a wrong order.
The world didn't know.But I did.
I snapped my fingers again.
Click.
Nothing happened.
Of course. No command word.
I turned toward the trash bin in the corner and narrowed my eyes.
I took a breath, pointed, and tried again.
"Explode."
Snap.
This time, it didn't blow apart instantly — but the side of the trash bin cracked, like something had punched it from the inside. Plastic warped and caved inward. The air rippled faintly around it.
I flinched back a little.
So… I could scale it. Or maybe intent mattered? The first time, I was panicked. Shocked. The second time, I was curious. Controlled.
I checked the floating blue screen again. It hadn't changed. No help menu, no power meter, no explanation.
"Fine," I muttered, "let's try something else."
I walked to the fridge and pulled out a leftover steamed bun, cold and a bit stale.
Held it in my hand. Focused.
"Fire."
Snap.
The bun burst into flames.
I screamed.
It dropped onto the floor, flames licking up the sides like it had been doused in lighter fluid. I scrambled for the sink, grabbed the dish towel, and smothered it, stomping on it with one slippered foot. The smell of charred flour and panic filled the room.
When the fire died down, I stared at the blackened remains.
"No way."
I looked at my hand again, as if it might start glowing. Still nothing.
But it had worked.
I hadn't said "explode."I said "fire."And fire happened.
I turned to the noodle cup's remains in the sink, then to the trash bin, then the half-burnt baozi.
It wasn't a skill that only triggered explosions.
It was something more terrifying.
It obeyed whatever I commanded.
I tested it again. And again. And again.
I filled a small plastic bowl with water and tried:
"Freeze."
Snap.
The surface immediately frosted over, a thin sheen of ice forming along the rim. It wasn't solid all the way through — but the temperature had dropped instantly. I touched it. The water was near-frozen.
My heart thudded faster.
What the hell was this skill?
It wasn't one element. It wasn't even limited to destructive commands. It was something deeper. Something that responded to spoken intent — through the snap. A snap-based reality manipulation system?
That sounded like science fiction.But I was living it.
I tried again with something harmless.
"Light."
Snap.
A bright orb the size of a ping-pong ball flickered into existence in the center of the room, glowing faintly yellow. It hovered in place for a few seconds, casting soft shadows around my cluttered studio, before vanishing like it had never been there.
My knees weakened. I sat down slowly on the futon.
I covered my mouth with my hand and exhaled sharply.
This wasn't just a "strong" skill.
This was absurd.It was broken.
I grabbed a notepad from my desk drawer and started writing things down.
Command Effect Explode Destructive force, varies by intent Fire Flames generated on surface Freeze Lowers temperature / ice effect Light Floating light orb Water (Didn't try yet) Heal (Too dangerous to test… yet)
I paused at the last one.
Heal.
Could I do that?
Was it dangerous? What if it went wrong? What if it tried to stitch me back together and misunderstood?
I stood up, then hesitated.
I picked up a pair of scissors from the desk and stared at my palm.
Was I really about to cut myself? For an experiment?
My gut said yes.
I made a small slice across the edge of my thumb—just enough to sting, and bleed. A shallow cut. Sharp pain flared briefly.
I took a breath.
"Heal."
Snap.
A faint warmth flowed over the wound. It wasn't dramatic — no golden light, no chimes, no dramatic cinematic aura.
But I watched the blood stop. The skin closed.
Just like that.
I stared at my thumb.
The cut was gone.
I didn't even feel tired. Or drained. It was as if the command didn't cost me anything.
"Am I… immortal?" I whispered.
I tested five more commands.
"Shield."A translucent wall flickered to life in front of me — then disappeared after two seconds.
"Wind."A gust of air blew my curtain inward.
"Silence."The buzzing ceiling light went completely dead. For thirty seconds, everything in the room went mute. No fan. No traffic outside. No creaks. Even my own breathing felt muffled.
I undid it with another snap.
"Sound."The room returned to normal. My ears popped slightly.
My notepad list kept growing.
My hands were shaking now, not from fear — but from adrenaline.
At 3:30 a.m., I finally sat down on the floor, arms draped over my knees.
I was awake. But not just in the literal sense.
I was awakened.
Whatever the system was, it had chosen me. Not the rich. Not the trained. Not someone special. Me — Feng Tianlei, college dropout, part-time cook, and newly dumped loser.
I looked at the floating screen again.
It hadn't updated once. No new messages. No instructions. Just the same glowing blue interface, waiting.
"Why me?"
There was no answer.
The silence felt heavier than anything the system had said.
I passed out sometime before dawn.
When I woke up, the screen was gone. Or at least, invisible until I summoned it again.
I stood slowly, joints stiff. My body didn't feel tired despite only sleeping a few hours. In fact, I felt better than I had in weeks. Light on my feet. Clear in the head.
I stepped onto the balcony of my building. It was early. Gray light had just begun to creep across the city skyline. Vendors were setting up carts, oil frying in shallow metal pans. A little boy darted between bikes in his school uniform, chasing pigeons. Everything looked normal.
But I wasn't normal anymore.
And no one knew.
I looked at my hand again.
"Smoke."
Snap.
A small trail of gray vapor hissed from my palm and curled into the sky.
I grinned, heart thudding.
This was real.
This was power.
And no one could take it away from me.
Not Yao Lin.
Not the hunters.
Not the world.