Melody Godslayer: I Rewrite the System with Notes

# The E-Flat Minor Alarm The monitor's alarm blared in E-flat minor. In the chaos, Lin Ge's last remaining musical instinct pinned a pitch to the shrill electronic tone—E-flat, the starting note of a dissonant interval that hummed with foreboding. It struck like a frigid needle, piercing the layers of anesthetic fog and deathbed hallucinations. The sound faded from sharp and ear-splitting to muffled and distant, as if wrapped in thick liquid and stretched thin. With it faded his mother's stifled sobs, the phantom pain of a catheter tearing from his skin, and the unspoken cry: *I don't want to die*. Then the sound changed. The E-flat minor alarm was **ripped apart**, replaced by— A roar. Not a human roar, but the snarl of some beast mixed with the scrape of metal, rattling his eardrums until they ached. An explosion. A dull thud of energy detonation, followed by the crash of dirt and gravel raining down like a storm. And… music? No, a rhythmic, synthetic ability sound effect—like a few jarring chords plucked from cheap electronic music, repeating over and over. Lin Ge's eyes flew open. His vision was forcefully flooded with an alien scene: smoke-choked scorched earth, twisted bioluminescent plants, and a sky streaked with an eerie magenta data stream, like a broken neon tube. He found himself **standing**, not lying down. His body felt… wrong. Too heavy, too massive, with rock-hard muscle bundles beneath his skin, every breath making his chest expand like a bellows. He lowered his head. What he saw were not the pale fingers of a human, but a pair of gray-blue, rough-skinned palms the size of cattail fans. In one, he clutched a stone totem pole thicker than his entire original body—its surface carved with strange runes that glowed with a faint, flowing light. "I…" The sound rumbled from his throat, deep and resonant, laced with the guttural tone of a bovine ruminant. It was not his voice. Memories shattered like a broken mirror, scattering into two irreparable shards: **Shard A (clear, but distant as a past life):** Lin Ge, 24, dropout from the Central Conservatory of Music, car accident, ICU, the E-flat minor monitor, the charred scraps of his father's sheet music… **Shard B (blurred, but forcefully implanted):** Earthshaker, Rigwarl Stonehoof, Radiant Legion, Abilities: Fissure, Echo Slam, Enchant Totem, Aftershock… Tear down the ruins. "Who am I?" Thoughts sent a searing vertigo through his head. Just then, **hearing** awoke before his other senses— in an abnormal way. The chaos of the battlefield fell into order. In his ears, the sounds separated themselves into **layers of frequency**: - The roars of allied and enemy soldiers: jumbled sound waves at 300-500 Hz, sharp with fear and rage. - Distant ability explosions: precise square-wave pulses at 800 Hz, artificial and cold. - Wind, footsteps: background white noise. - And deepest of all, a constant environmental resonance at nearly **311 Hz**, like the world's background heartbeat, or… an echo of the E-flat minor in this virtual realm. This uncanny "hearing" triggered an instinctive roll to the side. Zing! An arrow wreathed in natural energy streaked past the spot where he'd stood, burying itself in the ground and sprouting thorny vines. Cold sweat (if this body could sweat) soaked him instantly. Three figures burst from the smoke, clad in dark purple armor with glowing red eyes—Dire soldiers. They charged in a triangular formation, battle-axes raised high. There was no time for confusion. Lin Ge's body—this vessel known as Rigwarl Stonehoof—moved faster than his consciousness. Muscle memory took over, and the massive totem pole was swung upward, the ground trembling slightly beneath his feet. He tried to cast an ability, and the game key [F] popped into his mind—Fissure. But real-world instinct surged stronger. Driven by primal fear and the will to survive, the lesson his father had etched into his bones surfaced as a conditioned reflex: **"Xiao Ge, melody is power. An ascending scale means rise, means breakthrough!"** Almost unconsciously, he hummed a short, trembling **ascending scale (C-D-E-F-G)** from the depths of his throat. At the same time, the totem pole crashed into the charred earth with the force of a thousand junks. **Something changed.** According to the memories in Shard B, Fissure should have summoned a straight, raised rock wall, repelling all enemies in its path. But now, as his hummed scale **climbed from C to G**, the earth before the totem's impact site was plowed as if by sound waves. Instead of a straight wall, it formed **a wave-like protrusion whose amplitude swelled with the rising pitch!** Boom! Crash—! The wave of earth and stone slammed into the three Dire soldiers with pinpoint accuracy. It was no mere repulsion; the crests and troughs of the wave lifted them, tossed them about, and sent them crashing to the ground. Spinning dizziness icons flickered above all three heads at once. "Got them stunned!" A clear, sharp female voice cut through the fray from afar. Lin Ge looked up to see a searing beam of fire race past his side, incinerating the Enchantress sniper who was struggling to rise into scattered data motes. The fire's wielder strode over quickly. Her scarlet hair billowed in the battlefield's heat, and her golden eyes blazed with anger—yet strangely, they felt reassuring. She wore scarlet-gold light armor, and every step left a molten footprint on the scorched earth. Lin Ge's frequency hearing picked up on her fire—its blazing crimson hue had an extremely faint, high-frequency vibrato overtone in its base frequency, like a sad trill, clashing sharply with her fiery exterior. Moreover, a ring of dark red runes encircled her left wrist, not an ornament, but more like… a scar on the data level. "Rookie! Daydreaming on the battlefield is a death wish?!" she snapped, but as she cursed, she unleashed a flurry of Dragon Slaves that streaked outward, suppressing other enemies who tried to close in and clearing a space for Lin Ge. "What are you staring at? Keep up!" Lin Ge's brain was still processing the absurdity of *I turned into a minotaur*, *I can use music to alter abilities*, and *a red-haired beauty is yelling at me but saving me*, but his body was already running after her. "Thanks, Fire Lady!" he tried to communicate using the game knowledge from Shard B. "Should I go in and ult up front?" The running red-haired woman skidded to a halt and spun around, glaring at him. The anger in her eyes was almost tangible enough to ignite into real fire: "…Who the hell is Fire Lady? Call me Lina! And," she jabbed a finger at the totem pole in his hand, "you're Earthshaker, not Tidehunter! What ult? Stick with me and follow orders! Do something stupid again and I'll incinerate you first!" "…" Lin Ge fell silent. Two crucial pieces of information sank in: 1. Her name was Lina, not "Fire Lady." 2. The people here **did not see themselves as game characters**. The worldviews of Shard A and Shard B shattered and merged completely at that moment. --- ## [2] The battle ended quickly under Lina's overwhelming firebombardment and the encirclement of Radiant soldiers who arrived shortly after. The stench of smoke mingled with the ozone of dissipating data, hanging thick over the battlefield. Lin Ge leaned on his totem pole, a stabbing pain throbbing at his temples—each twinge flashed a brief, vivid image before his eyes: the pale white ceiling of the ICU, the flickering monitor screen, his own body covered in tubes. The pain was strange; it was not pure physical agony, but more like the "signal overload" of an overused connection. At the same time, his palm wrapped around the totem pole could feel the carvings growing slightly warm, especially one that resembled a modified treble clef, which burned the hottest. "Hey, new Earthshaker?" A gruff, slightly hoarse voice laced with drunkenness called out, humming an off-key tune. Lin Ge turned to see a middle-aged man in a navy blue captain's uniform staggering over, a brass wine flask in hand and a black eye patch covering his left eye. The song he hummed… was actually *Bella Ciao*, but it was so off-key it was unrecognizable, and the rhythm dragged like molasses. Strangely, as the off-key singing hit his ears, the stabbing pain at Lin Ge's temples **eased a little**. His acute frequency hearing detected that Kunkka's tuneless warbling, though hideous, was like a stone thrown at random, accidentally interfering with the constant, irritating 311 Hz background resonance of the world. The captain stopped in front of Lin Ge, squinting at him with his one eye, then at the wave-like Fissure mark on the ground. "That wave Fissure earlier…" Kunkka took a swig from his "wine," exhaled, and grinned, revealing a set of less-than-perfect teeth. "Pretty flashy. Who taught you that?" Lin Ge's heart skipped a beat, and he replied cautiously: "It… it was an instinctive reaction." "Instinct?" Kunkka roared with laughter, clapping him hard on the shoulder (Lin Ge felt like he'd been hit by a small truck). "Instinct's good! Better than those idiots who just memorize tactical manuals! Alright, stop standing around, clean up, and head back to the camp for the meeting—" He swirled the wine flask and turned to leave, then paused and looked back, jabbing the flask at Lin Ge: **"Don't be late, or that kid Sven will start nagging again. Got it?!"** With that, he continued humming his off-key *Bella Ciao*, stumbling toward the camp as if the astute comment he'd just made was nothing but a drunkard's ramblings. But Lin Ge noticed a detail: for a split second as Kunkka turned, **an extremely faint blue data stream flickered at the edge of his black eye patch**, gone in the blink of an eye. And in that instant, his frequency hearing picked up a burst of high-frequency, encrypted data transmission signals. Sven? Another name. He sounded like a stern, discipline-obsessed man. Lina walked over and tossed Lin Ge a vial of basic healing salve. "What are you standing there for? Really get your head bashed in? Let's go, the camp's this way." Her tone was still impatient, but her gaze held more scrutiny than anger. "And hold onto that totem pole tight—it doesn't look cheap." Lin Ge followed her silently, his brain racing a mile a minute. 1. **Ability**: Music can alter the effects of abilities in this world. 2. **Cost**: Using abnormal abilities causes headaches and connects (or peeks into) his ICU reality. 3. **Companions**: Lina—fiery but reliable, and hiding secrets. 4. **Superiors**: Kunkka—a seemingly drunken captain who can detect the unusual, and whose singing interferes with the world's base frequency. 5. **Unknowns**: Sven, system surveillance, and… why did his father leave carvings on the totem pole? He lowered his head and stared again at the warm, treble clef-like carving on the totem pole. --- ## [3] Returning to the so-called Radiant forward camp—actually a makeshift encampment built around bioluminescent crystals and simple fortifications—Lina led him to an assigned resting spot: a corner with a flimsy awning, then left on her own, saying she needed to "report casualties and find out which idiot sent a rookie straight to the front lines." Lin Ge finally had a moment of solitude. He sat down against the cold stone wall and laid the totem pole across his knees. He focused his mind. Recalling the meditation techniques his father had taught him, the ones used to capture inspired melodies. At first, there was only darkness and noise: the echo of the battlefield, Lina's shouts, Kunkka's off-key singing. Then, he listened **inward**. The first thing he "saw" was a translucent data interface superimposed over his vision: `Rigwarl Stonehoof - Earthshaker` `Health Points: 89%` `Mana Points: 74%` `Status: Mild Concussion (2 minutes remaining)` It was painfully game-like. But at the very bottom, a line of extremely faint gray text, barely legible, read: `Anomaly Level: 0.015% | Surveillance Status: Routine Scan` Anomaly Level… it had risen from 0.01%. Was it because he'd used the "Wave Fissure"? Routine Scan meant he was being watched by some kind of system. He delved deeper. Fixing his attention on the constant, stabbing pain at his temples. Not fleeing from it, but tracing it backward. In an instant, his vision was wrenched away. He "saw" a blurry, shaking, yet utterly real scene: Pale white lights. The rhythmic beep. Beep. Beep. of a monitor's electronic tone. Himself (his true, human body) lying in a hospital bed, his face as pale as paper, a breathing mask over his nose and mouth, countless tubes snaking into his body. His chest rose and fell weakly. A figure in sterile scrubs stood by the bed, jotting down notes, and outside the window, the night was deep and dark. This was not just a visual image, but a multi-sensory "anchored perception." He could "hear" the more real, subtle E-flat minor alarm from the real hospital ward (now a steady beep), "feel" the weakness and heaviness of his body in the bed, and even "smell" the faint tang of disinfectant. The acrid stench of the virtual battlefield and the sharp scent of real-world disinfectant mingled eerily. This was the cost? A channel for using abnormal abilities, and an umbilical cord connecting him to reality? The image flickered a few times and vanished. The headache intensified slightly. Lin Ge took a deep breath and pulled his attention back to the totem pole on his knees. His fingers traced the slightly warm carvings. When his fingertip brushed the "treble clef," he hummed the pitch unconsciously, so softly it was almost a whisper—E-flat. The faint glow of the carving seemed to brighten for a split second. This was not a game. This was not a simple transmigration. The charred scraps of his father's sheet music… the music-related carvings on the totem pole… E-flat minor as the frequency linking both worlds… music that could rewrite the rules of this world… An absurd yet increasingly clear thought seized him. He tightened his grip on the totem pole, the rough stone surface digging into his palm, a hard, solid reminder of reality. He lifted his head and stared at the massive Radiant relic pillar in the center of the camp, glowing with a constant, warm light. It stood there, seemingly eternal. "Music can change the world, Father," he murmured, his voice a mix of the minotaur's deep guttural tone and the tremor of a human youth's soul. "You always said that…" "Then I'll start here," he said, standing up, the weight of the totem pole making him feel grounded. "I'll find out what kind of 'world' this really is." In the distance, Kunkka the Captain's off-key *Bella Ciao* still drifted through the camp's bustle, fading in and out of earshot. But this time, when a gust of wind carried a particularly clear line to him, Lin Ge's ears locked onto the core frequency of one syllable with pinpoint precision. **E-flat.** The same pitch as the monitor's alarm when he transmigrated, the same pitch that resonated with the carvings on his totem pole. It was no coincidence. It could never be a coincidence. He stood in silence, the massive minotaur's frame casting a quiet shadow in the camp's flickering light. The carvings on the totem pole glowed with a faint warmth beneath the virtual moonlight, a heat only he could feel. **(A silent system log scrolled in an invisible dimension)** ＞ `Unit: Rigwarl Stonehoof (Earthshaker Template, ID#7743)` ＞ `Battle Data Review Complete.` ＞ `Ability [Fissure] Release Pattern Analysis: +7.3% Deviation from Standard Template. Waveform exhibits non-standard harmonic resonance.` ＞ `Anomaly Level Assessment: 0.01% → 0.015% (Minor increase, threshold not reached)` ＞ `Disposition Recommendation: Continue observation, add to [Routine Scan List - Sequence 7].` ＞ `Additional Note: Commander [Kunkka] has manually marked this unit as "Promising Recruit - Recommend Observation and Training."` ＞ `—— Scan Cycle Complete. Entering Standby.` The camp remained noisy beneath the night sky. But for Lin Ge, a crack had split open in his hopeless predicament, chiseled out with musical notes. And beyond that crack lay an unfathomable unknown, and the silent gaze of the system's eyes.