It wasn't some stranger's spirit talking to him. No old master, no ghost whispering in his ear.
It was his own voice. Plain, simple. His own nature, slipping out when it mattered most.
He might not remember a single thing, not his name, not his past. But the instincts — they were still there. They hadn't gone anywhere. They sat deep inside, waiting.
"Don't rush. Don't act stupid. Blend in. Watch. Learn. Then, when the time comes… strike."
"What shall I do?"
"What?"
"What am I? Who am I?"
Standing there, he was asking questions to himself, thinking about who he was, what to do.
His mind started to drift with all the questions, but there were no answers. It was like yelling in a room that was endless, where even your own voice could not echo back.
Then something strange happened. He shut his thoughts off.
Wu Feng pulled in a long breath, held it in his chest. His hands shook, but he forced them to stay still. He let the air out slowly, and the heavy feeling inside him eased just a little. He did it again, slower this time, more firm.
His eyes closed. The pain didn't go away, but he stopped fighting it. He let it move through him, sit inside him, instead of pushing back against it.
Little by little, the noise of the pit went away from Wu Feng's ears. The crack of the whips, the shovels scraping the stone, the coughing of weak slaves — all of it grew faint, softer and softer, until it was like nothing was there.
Inside his head, it was quiet. So quiet it felt strange.
It felt almost like standing in a surgery room, just before the first cut, when everyone stops moving and even the air feels like it is holding its breath.
Then… slowly… There was light.
It started faint, so faint it was almost not there at all. Just a small silver glow, weak and soft, pushing through the black dark inside his head.
Slowly it grew, little by little, brighter with every breath he took. The silver glow turned, shifting its colour, changing into red.
The red light bent and stretched, moving like it was alive, until it shaped itself into a rectangle, glowing and hanging in front of him, floating in the empty dark.
[ Soul System Activated ]
[ Displaying stats... ]
[ Level: 1 ]
[ Class: None ]
[ Pick your Initial Class ]
The pit was gone. His body was gone too.
Wu Feng stood alone in the middle of nowhere. Just darkness. Endless darkness. In front of him, a crimson-red screen floated, glowing on its own.
The dark wrapped around him from every side, swallowing him whole. But strangely, there was no fear this time. His heart didn't rush. His breath didn't shake.
Instead, the darkness felt warm. Like it was holding him, wrapping him up safe. The way a child finds warmth when a mother pulls them close in her arms.
Wu Feng felt the same here. Calm. Quiet. A strange kind of peace. He found solace inside the darkness.
Then, slowly, more of those screens began to appear. One after another, they lit up around him in a wide circle, moving lazily through the dark.
Each one showed something different — a class name, a small icon, and a single short line of text beneath it.
Wu Feng's brows pulled together. His eyes narrowed, trying hard to see, to understand what he was looking at. It didn't make sense, but he kept staring, as if the answer would come if he just looked long enough.
The faint lines on his forehead deepened, giving him a calm but confused expression. "The hell is this?"
His lips moved, but no sound came out. It felt like shouting underwater — his throat strained, his mouth shaped the words, but nothing left his lips. The only place he heard his own voice was inside his skull, bouncing back at him like an echo.
"Alright. So this is in my head."
No panic. Just an annoyance. He'd been in worse situations before — lying on an operating table, heart valve deep, the power out, nurses screaming all around.
This? This was nothing new. Just another problem to figure out.
The same words blinked coldly in front of him: [ Please select your class. ]
Over and over again, like the flatline beep of a monitor. It hit the same nerve every time, boring a little hole right through his brain.
He closed his hands tight, his fingers curling into fists without him noticing, and his eyes kept moving over the glowing names that floated in front of him, spinning slowly like they wanted him to choose one.
[ Assassin ] — Move in the dark. One strike. One kill. Silent but deadly.
Pros: deadly at close range, fast, perfect for surprise.
Cons: weak if spotted, no room for mistakes.
[ Ranger ] — Eyes of a hawk. Arrows never miss. Strike from afar, never be caught.
Pros: safe distance, good awareness.
Cons: bad in close combat, easy to corner.
[ Fighter ] — Straightforward. Break through with strength. Armour and muscle.
Pros: solid, reliable, hard to kill.
Cons: slow, easy to predict.
[ Rogue ], [ Sorcerer ], [ Illusionist ] — each one flashing past like options on a menu he didn't order.
He couldn't understand what was in front of him. Instead of fear, it felt warm, but at the same time, it left him confused.
His mind tried to make sense of it, but nothing came clear. Just darkness, and those glowing red screens floating in front of his eyes.
"What… what are these?" he muttered, his voice echoing only inside his head.
He read each screen slowly, carefully, his eyes tracing every word. It didn't matter if this was real or not — something in him told him to take it seriously.
The names flashed. Assassin. Ranger. Fighter. Rogue. Sorcerer. Illusionist. Each one was glowing in front of him like a choice he was being forced to make.
His eyes kept moving back again and again to one screen. Assassin.
His fingers twitched. His chest felt heavy, like something inside was pushing him, bugging him, whispering to just reach out and press it.
He didn't know why. He didn't even know who he was right now. But still, his heart leaned toward Assassin, like it already knew.