Ling Chen was having a really bad day. One minute, he was grinding through his favorite MMORPG, cursing laggy servers and chugging energy drinks.
The next, a freak power surge fried his PC—and him along with it. A jolt of electricity, a flash of white, and then… nothing.
Until he woke up here.
"Get up, trash!" a voice snarled, dripping with contempt.
Ling's eyes snapped open. He was sprawled on cold, wet cobblestones in a dark alley, the air thick with the scent of rain and something metallic—blood? His head throbbed like he'd been hit by a truck.
Above him loomed a figure in flowing white robes, a sword gleaming in his hand under the moonlight.
The guy's face was all sharp angles and smug superiority, like he'd stepped out of a fantasy drama and decided he was the star.
"Who the hell are you?" Ling croaked, his voice not quite his own. His body felt wrong too—scrawny, weak, dressed in tattered gray rags instead of his usual hoodie and jeans. Panic clawed at his chest. This wasn't his apartment. This wasn't even Earth.
The sword guy sneered. "Playing dumb, Ling Chen? You dared to covet my fiancée, and now you think you can escape?" He raised his blade, the tip glinting with deadly promise.
"Time to end your pathetic life."
Ling Chen? The name hit like a lightning bolt. Ling's foggy brain churned, piecing together fragments of memory. He'd read that name before. In a novel. A trashy Xianxia novel he'd binged last week, Sword of the Heavenly King.
Ling Chen was the cannon-fodder villain, a no-name outer disciple who got slaughtered in chapter three by the hero, Jian Hao, for eyeing the guy's love interest. And this sword-wielding pretty boy? Definitely Jian Hao.
"Oh, crap," Ling muttered, scrambling backward. His back hit a grimy wall. No escape. He was in the novel, in the villain's body, seconds away from being skewered.
"This is not how I pictured my weekend."
Jian Hao's eyes narrowed. "Still talking nonsense? Die!" The sword slashed down, a streak of silver aimed straight for Ling's heart.
Time slowed. Ling's gamer instincts screamed—dodge, block, something! But his new body was sluggish, weak, barely able to move. His heart pounded, sweat stinging his eyes. This was it. Game over, no respawn.
Then a voice cut through his panic, cold and mechanical, like an AI in his headset.
[Villain Overlord System initializing… Host detected: Ling Chen. Emergency mission: Survive Jian Hao's attack. Reward: Basic Qi Manipulation. Failure: Death. Accept?]
Ling's jaw dropped. A system? Like in those LitRPG novels he loved? A translucent blue screen hovered in his vision, complete with a blinking "Accept" button.
Jian's sword was inches away now, the air humming with its speed.
"Hell yes, I accept!" Ling shouted, half to himself. He didn't know what "Basic Qi Manipulation" was, but anything was better than becoming a shish kebab.
[Mission accepted. Activating survival protocol.]
A surge of heat flooded Ling's body, like someone had dumped a bucket of adrenaline into his veins. His muscles twitched, suddenly sharper, and he threw himself sideways.
The sword grazed his arm, slicing fabric and skin, but he hit the ground rolling, alive. Pain flared, but he was alive.
Jian Hao froze, eyes widening. "How did you—? A mere Qi Condensation weakling dodging me?"
Ling panted, clutching his bleeding arm.
"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises." His mind raced. The system had saved him, but he was still in deep trouble. This alley was a dead end, and Jian looked ready to finish the job.
[Mission progress: Survive 60 seconds longer. Reward progress: 50%. Warning: Hostile intent detected.]
"Sixty seconds?" Ling hissed under his breath. "You're kidding me." He glanced around—broken crates, a muddy puddle, a rusted dagger half-buried in the dirt. Not exactly an arsenal.
Jian stepped closer, his sword glowing faintly with a golden aura. Great. The guy had cultivation powers, and Ling had… a glorified tutorial mode.
"System, any tips?" Ling muttered, grabbing the dagger and backing toward a stack of crates.
[Suggestion: Use environment. Distraction increases survival odds by 23%.]
"Distraction, huh?" Ling's gamer brain kicked into gear. He'd cheesed plenty of bosses with cheap tricks. Time to improvise.
He scooped up a handful of mud and flung it at Jian's face. The hero flinched, swatting the muck away, and Ling darted behind the crates, heart hammering.
"You coward!" Jian roared, slashing the crates to splinters. Wood exploded, and Ling dove into the shadows, gripping the dagger like it was his lifeline. The alley's exit was just ahead, a narrow street lit by flickering lanterns. If he could make it there, maybe he could lose this guy in the crowd.
[Mission progress: 80%. Reward imminent. Incoming attack—evade!]
Ling spun just as Jian's sword arced toward him. The system's warning gave him a split-second edge.
He ducked, the blade whistling over his head, and bolted for the exit. His legs burned, his new body pathetically weak, but adrenaline—and sheer terror—kept him moving.
He burst into the street, weaving through a bustling night market. Stalls overflowed with glowing herbs and strange trinkets, robed cultivators haggling under paper lanterns.
Ling's heart soared. He'd made it. He'd actually—
[Mission complete! Reward: Basic Qi Manipulation granted. New mission: Evade sect pursuit. Warning: Hostile forces alerted.]
Ling skidded to a stop, his brief relief shattered. A tingling warmth spread through his chest, like a spark igniting.
The system's reward? He could feel it—something alive, pulsing, like energy in his veins. But before he could process it, shouts echoed behind him.
"There he is! The traitor who defied the hero!"
Ling turned, stomach dropping. A group of cultivators in blue robes stormed through the market, swords drawn, eyes locked on him.
Jian Hao led them, his face twisted with fury.
The system's screen flickered in Ling's vision.
[Alert: Sect enforcers dispatched. Host marked as fugitive. Survive the night to unlock next system tier. Failure: Capture or death.]
Ling gripped the dagger, his pulse racing.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he whispered.
The crowd parted, leaving him exposed under the lantern light. Jian's sword glowed brighter, and the enforcers closed in. He was trapped, outmatched, and running out of tricks.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?