Feifan came from Blue Star, just an ordinary youth among billions.He had no great family name, no extraordinary talent.The only thing that set him apart was his unyielding spirit—his refusal to ever admit defeat.
That day, the skies grew dark, storm clouds gathering overhead.He walked alone down a familiar street, the air thick with the roar of thunder. Suddenly, the ground trembled violently, as if the very world had been torn open.
"What's happening—?!"Before he could react, the earth beneath him collapsed. His vision turned black, his body dragged downward by some unseen force.
When Feifan finally opened his eyes, the city streets were gone.What stretched before him was a wasteland of crimson earth. The sky glowed blood-red, and jagged black mountains loomed in the distance like slumbering beasts. The very air reeked of danger.
"This… can't be real. Did I… cross into another world?"Shocked, Feifan steadied his breathing.It was here he learned the name of this land—Sangluo.A world ruled by the law of the strong, where the weak were nothing but prey.
Yet unlike the heroes of countless tales, no guiding voice echoed in his mind.No mysterious "system" appeared.No hidden bloodline, no secret inheritance, no golden finger.
All he had… was himself.
"So… not every traveler gets a shortcut."Feifan clenched his fists and raised his head. The oppressive horizon of Sangluo loomed before him, yet in his eyes, a fire began to burn.
Even without a golden finger, he would carve his own path.With his own two hands, he would fight, bleed, and rise in this merciless world.
Feifan wandered across the crimson wasteland, every step heavy and cautious. The ground cracked beneath his shoes, and the scorching wind stung his skin like blades. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and his throat felt like sand.
"This world… really wants to kill me."
Just as despair threatened to creep in, a guttural snarl cut through the silence.From the shadow of the rocks emerged a creature unlike any he had seen before—a beast with the body of a wolf, but covered in black scales. Its eyes glowed a sickly green, fixed directly on him.
Feifan froze. His heart pounded, but he gritted his teeth."No weapons, no cheats… only my fists."
The beast lunged. Instinct screamed at him to run, yet his body moved differently. He sidestepped, barely avoiding the snapping jaws, and grabbed a sharp stone from the ground. The monster roared, its hot breath burning his face.
Clutching the stone, Feifan struck with all his strength at the side of the beast's head. The scale cracked but did not break. Pain surged up his arm from the impact.
The creature howled and whipped its tail, sending him crashing to the dirt. Dust filled his lungs, blood dripped from his lip, but his eyes did not waver.
"If I can't kill even you… how can I survive in this world?"
With a roar of his own, Feifan hurled himself forward. Stone met flesh again and again, until finally, with a sickening crack, the beast collapsed lifelessly onto the ground.
Feifan's chest heaved, sweat and blood mingling on his face. He had no golden finger, no miraculous power—yet he was alive.
Breathing hard, he clenched the bloody stone tighter."This world of Sangluo won't hand me anything. If I want to live… I'll earn it with my own two hands."
The carcass of the scaled wolf lay at Feifan's feet, its blood seeping into the crimson soil. The stench of iron lingered in the air, but Feifan's mind was already elsewhere.
"That thing almost killed me… I can't let the next one do the same."
Dragging the beast's body beneath a jagged cliff, he worked clumsily with stones, tearing strips of raw meat. The taste was foul, bitter, but it silenced the hunger tearing at his stomach.
Day turned to night, and the blood-red sky gave way to a blanket of stars that felt foreign, cold, and merciless. Feifan sat by a small fire he had struggled for hours to spark, his body bruised, his hands blistered.
Yet in his chest burned a quiet determination.
If he wanted to live in Sangluo, he could not rely on luck alone.Every day would need to be a battle—against beasts, against hunger, and against his own limits.
So he began to train.
At dawn, he forced his weary body to run across the rocky wastelands, lungs burning with every breath. He punched the hard stone walls until his knuckles split, then wrapped them with torn cloth to keep going. He lifted heavy rocks until his arms trembled, then pushed further, refusing to stop.
The pain was unbearable, but it carved strength into his muscles and sharpened his will.
Nights were no easier. Surrounded by the roars of distant beasts, Feifan forced himself to remain awake, sharpening stones into makeshift blades and studying the land around him. Each scar, each drop of sweat, became a reminder—this world would not forgive weakness.
Staring at his bloodied fists one night, Feifan muttered to himself:"No system. No golden finger. No one coming to save me. If I want power… I'll tear it out of this world with my own hands."
And so began his lonely path of survival.Every scar hardened his resolve.Every challenge forged his body.
Feifan, the boy from Blue Star, was no longer just struggling to survive.He was learning how to live as a warrior of Sangluo.
Days turned into weeks. Feifan's body was no longer the fragile shell that had first stumbled into Sangluo. His fists were scarred, his arms stronger, his eyes sharper than ever before.
One dawn, while foraging near a jagged canyon, the ground shook beneath his feet. From the shadows crawled a beast far larger than the scaled wolf he had once barely slain—a monstrous lizard with twin horns, its body armored with obsidian-like plates. Its roar shattered the silence of the wasteland.
Feifan's pulse quickened.This was no ordinary prey. This was a predator that ruled the land.
But he did not run.
Clutching his crude stone blade, he charged. The battle was chaos—fangs clashing against stone, claws ripping through earth. Each strike rattled his bones, each dodge tested the limits of his endurance. Blood ran down his arms, yet his eyes blazed brighter with every wound.
Finally, with one last roar, Feifan leapt onto the beast's back, driving his weapon deep into the gap between its scales. The creature thrashed violently, its claws tearing into his body. His strength was nearly spent, vision blurring—until in that desperate moment, something inside him awakened.
A surge of raw power flooded his veins, burning hotter than fire, sharper than steel. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened, and his body moved with a strength he never knew he had. With that newfound force, he twisted the blade with a roar, and the beast collapsed into stillness.
Breath ragged, body broken yet unyielding, Feifan stood victorious.But more than victory filled him. He could feel it—an unfamiliar energy coursing within.
His fists glowed faintly with a dim light, like a hidden flame waiting to be unleashed.It was not strength born of training alone. This was something… different.
"What… is this power?" he muttered, staring at his trembling hands.
Though he did not yet understand it, Feifan had awakened his Wanli—the mysterious force said to belong only to the people of Sangluo.
For the first time since arriving, he was no longer just a foreigner struggling to survive.He had taken the first step into Sangluo's true world.
The days after the battle with the horned lizard blurred into one another.Feifan could feel it—something different in his body. His muscles were firmer, his punches heavier. Sometimes, when he focused, his fists would spark faintly with that same hidden light.
But the change was far from overwhelming.He was no invincible warrior; the power inside him was like an uncut stone, raw and unshaped. Enough to give him an edge, but not enough to conquer this world.
He learned that truth the hard way.
One evening, while scouting the canyon, Feifan stumbled upon a beast twice the size of the horned lizard—a shadow-born brute, its body warped, its eyes burning with abyssal flame. The ground trembled beneath its steps, and the air grew heavy, choking.
Feifan's instincts screamed.Even with his new strength, he stood no chance.
"Not this one…" he muttered, clenching his fists. Then he turned and ran.The monster's roar shook the skies, but Feifan didn't stop until his lungs burned and his legs nearly gave out.
For the first time, he understood:Strength alone wasn't enough in Sangluo. Sometimes, survival meant knowing when to fight—and when to flee.
That night, under the blood-red moon, Feifan recalled what he had seen in the beast's eyes.Not just hunger, but something darker.
The people of Sangluo whispered of it—the Abyss, a place deep within their world, where horrors were born. The monsters that crawled from there sought to devour everything, to twist the land into their own image. Their strength came from the same source as the humans' Wanli, but warped, corrupted. That was why their bodies were so monstrous, why their power was overwhelming.
And yet, there was a reason men risked their lives to hunt them.
When a monster fell, its body did not rot like normal flesh. From their remains could be drawn strange materials—essences of Wanli. Some hardened into metals stronger than steel, others condensed into potions that healed wounds or enhanced the body, and some crystallized into shards of pure energy.
Feifan looked at his hands, then at the crude stone blade he carried.If he wanted to survive… if he wanted to grow stronger…He would need more than his fists.
"I'll hunt. I'll learn. I'll take what this world gives… and turn it into my weapon."
With that vow, Feifan set his sights not just on survival, but on discovery.The monsters were terrifying—but they were also the key to his path forward.
And somewhere beyond the wastelands, beyond the horizon, there were whispers of human settlements—where others wielded their own Wanli to carve out dominions of survival.
For Feifan, the true journey was only beginning.