The Forbidden Zone. The Sovereign's Palace.
The Sovereign sat before the Mirror of Heavenly Reflection, holding a large bucket of Popped Spirit Corn.
"Unit Alpha," he crunched on a kernel. "Server stability?"
"Stable, Master," Alpha replied. "The connection to the pocket dimension is holding. The 'Tutorial Zone' is populated with Level 1 Mobs. Though, I must ask... why 'Slimes'?"
"tradition," the Sovereign stated, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Every great adventure begins with hitting a gelatinous blob with a stick. It is the Dao."
He watched the swarms of cultivators rushing toward the black tower like ants to a sugar cube.
"Now... let us see who figures out the mechanics, and who dies to the RNG (Random Number Generation)."
The Base of the Tower of Heavenly Trials.
Chaos.
Thousands of disciples from the Iron Blood Sect, along with rogue cultivators from White River City, crowded the entrance. The massive double doors of the tower stood open, revealing a swirling vortex of white light.
Lin Fan was in the thick of the crowd. He shoved an older man aside, ignoring the curses thrown his way.
"Out of my way!" Lin Fan snarled.
His eyes were bloodshot. The hunger of the Heaven-Devouring Art was clawing at his insides. He didn't see people around him; he saw obstacles. He saw walking bags of blood that were in his way of the "Pure Essence."
As he elbowed his way forward, he collided with a youth carrying a heavy wooden box on his back.
The youth stumbled but didn't fall. He was dressed in the same grey servant robes Lin Fan had worn yesterday. He had a square, honest face, thick eyebrows, and hands covered in calluses—not from fighting, but from chopping wood.
This was Zhang Wei.
He wasn't a transmigrator. He had no system. He was a woodcutter's son who had joined the sect three years ago and was still stuck at Qi Condensation Stage 1. He had zero talent.
"Senior Brother," Zhang Wei said, bowing apologetically despite being the one shoved. "Please be careful. The crowd is dense."
Lin Fan glanced at him. The Nine-Seal System scanned the boy.
[Target: Zhang Wei]
[Cultivation: Qi Condensation Stage 1 (Low Tier)]
[Threat Level: Zero.]
[Potential: Evaluation Failed. Data too mundane.]
"Move, trash," Lin Fan spat, shoving Zhang Wei hard.
Zhang Wei stumbled back, protecting the wooden box on his back. Inside was his younger sister, who was sick with the Cold Yin plague. He had heard the Tower might hold medicines. He wasn't here for glory; he was here out of desperation.
Zhang Wei watched Lin Fan sprint toward the portal. He didn't feel anger, only a strange sense of pity.
That Senior Brother... Zhang Wei thought, gripping his rusty iron sword. His aura feels like a starving beast. He is strong, but his heart is chaotic.
Zhang Wei took a deep breath, steeled his resolve, and followed the crowd into the light.
Floor 1: The Verdant Plains.
Lin Fan stepped through the vortex. The nausea of teleportation hit him, but he shook it off.
He blinked.
He expected a dungeon. A cave. A hellscape.
Instead, he stood in a bright, grassy field. The sky was an unnatural, perfect blue. The sun was a static glowing orb. And playing in the background was a strange, rhythmic music—a simple, upbeat flute melody that seemed to come from the air itself.
"An illusion array?" Lin Fan muttered.
Around him, hundreds of other cultivators materialized.
"Where is this?"
"Look at the grass! It's... square?"
Indeed, the geometry of the world was blocky. The Sovereign had been lazy with the rendering engine.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled.
From the tall grass, creatures emerged. They were translucent blue blobs, about knee-high, bouncing rhythmically.
[Mob: Blue Slime]
[Level: 1]
[Drops: Gelatinous Fluid, Minor Spirit Coins, ???]
"Demons!" A disciple shouted. "Kill them!"
A group of Iron Blood disciples drew their swords and charged the Slimes.
SPLAT.
A sword cut through a Slime. It didn't bleed; it jiggled. The Slime suddenly expanded and tackled the disciple, its body acidic.
"Argh! It burns!" the disciple screamed as his clothes began to dissolve.
Lin Fan watched from the sidelines. He didn't help. He analyzed.
They are slow. They attack by lunging. They have no visible organs.
The hunger in his stomach roared.
Lin Fan moved.
He targeted a Slime that was currently dissolving the leg of a screaming disciple. He didn't aim to save the disciple; he used the disciple as a shield to get close.
"Heaven-Devouring Art!"
Lin Fan's hand, wreathed in black Qi, punched into the Slime.
Squish.
The Slime burst apart.
[Energy Absorbed.]
[Purity: High.]
[Hunger Satiated: 5%.]
"Yes..." Lin Fan shivered in ecstasy. This energy... it was just like the Glitch Raptor. It was artificial, clean, and potent.
A small glowing object dropped where the Slime died. A small red vial.
[Item: Minor Healing Potion]
[Effect: Instantly restores 50 HP (Physical Wounds).]
Lin Fan snatched it up.
"Hey!" The disciple on the ground, whose leg was burned, reached out. "Thank you, Senior Brother! Please, help me up..."
Lin Fan looked at the disciple. Then he looked at the potion.
"You were bait," Lin Fan said coldly. "If you can't stand, you deserve to die here."
He turned and walked away, seeking more prey.
The disciple stared at Lin Fan's back, betrayal and shock in his eyes. "You... you devil!"
Suddenly, a pair of rough, calloused hands grabbed the wounded disciple.
"Easy, Junior Brother," a calm voice said.
It was Zhang Wei. He had arrived.
Zhang Wei hoisted the injured boy onto his shoulder, balancing him alongside the box containing his sister.
"Leave me," the wounded boy groaned. "That guy... he said..."
"The Dao is hard, but we are not animals," Zhang Wei said softly. He drew his rusty sword. A Slime was bouncing toward them.
Zhang Wei didn't have a System. He didn't have talent. But he had swung his axe at trees a million times. He knew how to strike true.
He waited. He breathed.
Bounce. Bounce. Lunge.
Slash.
A simple, vertical chop. Perfect timing. The Slime was bisected cleanly.
It dissolved, dropping a small copper coin.
Zhang Wei picked it up, wiped the slime off his blade, and looked at Lin Fan, who was currently slaughtering a group of Slimes further ahead, stealing kills from weaker cultivators.
"Strength without virtue," Zhang Wei whispered to himself, "is a calamity."
The Sovereign's Palace.
"Ooh," the Sovereign leaned forward.
He wasn't looking at Lin Fan. He was looking at Zhang Wei.
"Interesting," the Sovereign smiled. "The System User plays the game like a speedrunner—exploiting glitches, ignoring NPCs, maximizing DPS. But that boy... the one with the box..."
"He has no special constitution," Unit Alpha noted. "His stats are average."
"Exactly," the Sovereign said, his eyes glowing. "He is playing the game on 'Hard Mode' without complaining. No cheats. No shortcuts. Just pure mechanics."
The Sovereign tapped the screen.
"Alpha, keep an eye on the woodcutter. If he survives the first ten floors... drop him a 'Starter Pack.' Nothing too overpowered. Maybe a slightly sharper sword."
"And the System User?" Alpha asked, pointing to Lin Fan, who was currently laughing maniacally while bathing in Slime fluid.
The Sovereign's expression turned bored.
"He is doing exactly what I expected him to do. Becoming a monster. Let him climb. Every game needs a Mid-Boss for the Hero to defeat eventually."