As he said that, the interface shimmered.
『Mega Sign-Up Successful. Reward Obtained: Gene Evolution Trigger ×1.』
『Remaining Mega Sign-Ups: 2』
The holographic interface flickered before his eyes like a divine receipt of cosmic shopping.
Li Wei—formerly Aris, professional reviewer, part-time cynic, now part-time villain—blinked at the text.
"Gene Trigger, huh?"
He muttered it like someone reading the side effects on a prescription bottle.
He didn't know the full implications. Not yet.
But he did know one thing.
Anything was better than being cannon fodder with a fancy sword and a death flag.
He closed the interface, the system vanishing into a neat sparkle, leaving behind a subtle pulse in his body. Something was now quietly humming under his skin. A new thread in the fabric of what he was.
And the irony?
He hadn't antagonized the protagonist. Not this time.
This time, he'd befriended him.
Kind of.
Sure, there was a duel. Sure, there were sparks. But there was also respect. Mutual, quiet, wary—but respect nonetheless.
The kind that either ends in alliance or foreshadows one hell of a betrayal arc.
'Foreshadow that, b*tch'
He thought, flipping the metaphorical bird at the original author.
The tense air—once thick enough to chew—suddenly broke. The groups relaxed. Conversations resumed. The two-headed black snake? Now just oversized sashimi.
Li Wei turned on his heel.
"We're done here."
And with that, he and the Tiger Fang team walked away, their boots thudding across the broken earth like a departing war drum.
The snake was left behind like discarded DLC content no longer relevant to the main quest.
Because Li Wei didn't come here for loot.
He came to bend the narrative.
...
Some Distance Away.
They'd only walked for five minutes before the buzz started.
Pan Yu—ever the nervous worm in a suit of armor—finally mustered enough spine to speak.
"Y-young Master Li…"
He began, the kind of voice used when one's about to say something deeply stupid.
"Why did you let Luo Feng go? H-he's the f*cke—I mean, enemy! An enemy! Of our Team!"
He emphasized enemy like it would retroactively justify his whining.
Before he could dig the grave any deeper, a shadow shifted.
Old Liu—the butler who could snap a man's spine with his pinky if sufficiently annoyed—turned his head. His glare said one more word and I'll erase your bloodline.
Pan Yu swallowed so hard it echoed.
Li Wei raised a hand, signaling Old Liu to relax.
Then, without flair or theatrics, he spoke.
"He's a Spirit Master."
That sentence dropped like a tactical nuke.
Everyone froze.
Pan Yu blinked like he'd been shot.
Zhang Zehu's breath caught. His jaw tried to move but failed.
"Wh-what?"
Zhang Zehu finally croaked, voice cracking like a bad mic.
"H-how c-can you be sure…?"
Because if it was true—if Luo Feng really was a Spirit Master—then the whole game had changed.
In this world, while most fighters break bones to get strong. Spirit Masters? They break physics.
While regular warriors pump iron and pray they don't get eaten by mutant snakes, Spirit Masters just think hard enough and boom—stuff starts flying, bending, slicing, or exploding.
They're telekinetics on cosmic steroids.
The core of it? Spiritual force—an invisible, internal energy that lets you yeet knives through the air with brainpower alone. You train your mind until it can move steel faster than bullets and more precisely than a Swiss watch.
No muscle required—just concentration, willpower, and a slightly unhinged amount of focus.
They control "flying weapons" like blades, daggers, and even entire arsenals once they're strong enough. Think Jedi, but with less philosophy and more ultraviolence.
The real kicker? Their growth is exponential. While body-type fighters hit a wall and need gene evolution, Spirit Masters just need a quiet room, mental discipline, and maybe a dead look in their eyes.
Oh—and they're terrifying. One top-tier Spirit Master can nuke a battlefield without lifting a finger.
So yeah. If you meet one?
Don't blink. Don't breathe.
And for the love of god, don't piss them off.
More importantly, its Zhang Zehu's nephew that had insulted him that this matter escalated.
That nephew?
Probably already dead in a future chapter.
Li Wei didn't care. Honestly, he'd forgotten the kid's name already.
But he did turn, casting a glance over his shoulder like an exasperated elder brother giving advice to toddlers playing with explosives.
"Listen closely," he said, voice low and cold enough to make the desert air chill.
"Stay away from him. Don't talk to him. Don't provoke him. In fact—if you see him, cross the f*cking street."
He paused.
"Or you'll die."
There was no anger in his tone. Just… finality. Like he'd already seen the scene in advance and was politely warning them before they tripped over their own intestines.
The silence that followed was the kind only truth could create. Heavy. Dense. Absolute.
Old Liu gave a barely visible nod, eyes glinting with new understanding.
This wasn't the same arrogant Young Master from before.
Something had shifted.
Li Wei broke the silence.
"We're going back."
There was no room for negotiation in his voice.
Old Liu fell in step beside him.
Pan Yu, thoroughly shaken, kept quiet. For once.
Behind them, Zhang Zehu looked down at his shaking hands.
'He's a Spirit Master.'
'Stay away or die.'
Those words rang in his skull like an ominous system notification.
And in that moment, every one of them realized something.
This wasn't just the Young Master anymore.
This was a man cursed with knowledge.
And he'd decided to play a different game.
...
Meanwhile, Somewhere Else, Somewhere white.
The goddess reclined on a floating couch made of clouds and caffeine, sipping some divine mocha made from roasted galaxy beans.
She smirked, watching her little performer through an interdimensional scrying screen.
"Interesting…"
A flick of her finger summoned another panel, showcasing future flags rearranging themselves like a casino slot machine.
"He's already diverged from canon. Befriending the protagonist? That's new…"
She licked her lips, amused.
"Let's see how long you keep dancing before the next monster knocks at your door, darling."