The night had deepened. Shadows stretched long and quiet across the lacquered floor of Lin Hao's small chamber. The moon hung high above, aloof, its pale glow spilling through the carved wooden windows like an indifferent judge gazing down upon the condemned.
Within that cold silence, Lin Hao sat cross-legged on the bed, back straight, fists clenched. He looked every bit the image of a cultivator—but inside, his soul trembled.
Moments ago, Ji Chuyan had left. Their conversation—sharp, clinical—still echoed in his mind. Her voice had been clear, her words cold:
"Even with all the resources of the Ji Clan, you're not someone who can reach the Extreme Realm… not unless a miracle happens."
And then she was gone.
All that remained was the faintest trace of spirit incense in the air and a thick silence that clung to Lin Hao's chest like a weight.
Suddenly—
Ding!
A mechanical chime rang in his ears, and a familiar voice—mocking, arrogant, and faintly metallic—cut through the darkness like a dagger.
System: "Query: Does Host wish to inquire about the Extreme Realm?"
Lin Hao opened his eyes. A faint blue glow flickered in front of him—the System interface.
He swallowed hard.
"…Can the Extreme Realm of Body Refinement really repair my broken meridians?"
System: "Confirmed. Reaching the Extreme Realm of Body Refinement can stabilize Host's damaged spiritual network. Host would, at minimum, regain the functionality of an average mortal's meridians."
That alone made his heart stir.
If he could just reach that level… maybe the humiliation would end.
"…Can I reach it?" he asked quietly.
A pause.
Then, coldly:
System: "Negative. Host's current talent is inferior. Even with optimal cultivation resources and rare treasures, the probability of reaching the Extreme Realm is statistically negligible."
Lin Hao's heart sank.
Even the System didn't believe in him?
He gritted his teeth. But before despair could take root, the System's tone shifted:
System: "However… the System exists to provide a path for wastes like the Host to rise. Each level requires experience points. For every 100 level increases, Host gains one Host Attribute Point. These points may be allocated to comprehension—formations, alchemy, spiritual arrays… or cultivation itself."
Lin Hao blinked.
Host Attribute Points?
The System elaborated:
System: "Host Attribute Points are the foundation of power. Ordinary cultivators must spend decades refining their comprehension of a single Dao—Sword, Fist, Spear, Flame, or even Ice. To merely understand the basics of Sword Dao, most require one or two years of focused meditation and countless sparring battles."
System: "But Host may bypass this process. With one Host Attribute Point, Host may gain basic-level understanding of any Dao. Two points: intermediate-level. Three: advanced. Four: mastery. Five or more… and Host may grasp an embryonic law, something only peerless geniuses of ancient sects can achieve."
Lin Hao's lips parted slightly.
This was beyond what he'd imagined.
System: "For example—should Host invest one Attribute Point in Fist Dao, he would instantly gain the strength, muscle control, and instinct of a Fist Cultivator who trained for ten years under a Martial Grandmaster. No bottlenecks. No detours. No wasted effort."
Lin Hao's hands trembled.
"So… you're saying I could understand any path? Alchemy, formations, even swordplay?"
System: "Confirmed. Host may build his foundation faster than Heaven's chosen. Even if your body is broken, your mind and technique can become unparalleled. But—"
There was always a "but."
System: "—Each Host Attribute Point requires 100 level increases. Each level requires experience. Host's only source of experience… is shame."
A pause.
Then, with mechanical cheer:
System: "Activating quest chain…"
Ding! Quest #1 – "Spectacle of Shame"
Objective: Allow lecherous gazes from other men to fall upon your women.
(Note: Host's physical presence is not required.)
Progress: 0 / 1000
Reward: +1 EXP for every 1,000 verified lecherous gazes
Bonus: Accompanying her in public without complaint grants +25% EXP
Penalty: Visible discomfort, jealousy, or interference will deduct EXP
System Note: Host is a worm crawling on broken meridians. This is how you earn your wings.
Lin Hao froze.
He read the quest again.
And again.
"Lecherous gazes…?" he whispered.
Slowly, he stood, staring at the floating interface. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
This wasn't a cultivation path.
It was a humiliation path.
"System…" His voice trembled. "You want me to let other men leer at my wife—for one EXP?"
System (calmly): "Correction: 1,000 verified gazes equals 1 EXP."
Lin Hao laughed.
But it wasn't joyous.
It was hollow. Bitter. Almost broken.
"You're insane," he whispered.
The System remained silent.
He clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked. "You think I'll accept this? That I'll let my woman be treated like a spectacle, just so I can crawl forward like a dog?"
He roared and slammed his fist into the wooden bedpost. Splinters tore into his skin—but he didn't flinch.
Silence.
Then, coldly:
System: "Host has no choice. You are bound to the System. Quests cannot be canceled."
The glowing quest floated like a ghost before him. Mocking. Inevitable.
Lin Hao's whole body trembled.
His pride screamed.
But…
He turned his back on it.
"…I don't need this," he muttered. "I don't need you."
System: "Clarify."
He walked to the window and placed a hand on the wooden frame. The moonlight bathed his scarred fingers in cold silver.
"I was born in the gutter," he said softly. "And I still survived. Even if my bones crack and my soul rots, I'll stand tall. Even if it takes ten years to reach the first realm… I'll walk that path myself. I won't wallow in filth."
System: "Host's odds of reaching the first realm unaided: 0.000032%. Host's expected lifespan: ten years. Conclusion: empty bravado."
Lin Hao smiled.
A bitter, resolute smile.
"Maybe," he whispered.
He walked back to the bed and lay down, turning his back to the flickering System window.
"But I'd rather die as a man," he said, his voice low, "than live as a worm fed on shame."
He pulled the rough blanket over his body.
The System was silent.
No quests popped up.
No notifications.
No guidance.
Just cold, mechanical stillness.
And the flickering interface, still glowing—like the unblinking eyes of a predator watching its prey choose death over survival.
But Lin Hao didn't care.
Not tonight.
He closed his eyes.
Moonlight brushed his face like a mother's hand.
And sleep, heavy and final, pulled him down—into the darkness.
Into the unknown.
But even there, one last thought burned in his mind:
I am the main character. And I decide my story.