Ling Chen crouched behind a rickety wooden stall, heart pounding like a war drum.
The night market buzzed around him—cultivators haggling over glowing jade talismans, the air thick with the scent of roasted spirit beast meat.
But the shouts of Jian Hao's enforcers still echoed in his ears. "Find that traitor! He can't hide forever!"
"Traitor, my ass," Ling muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. He was just a gamer stuck in a Xianxia novel, not some mastermind. But the Villain Overlord System didn't care about his complaints.
That glowing blue screen had saved his life back in the alley, and now it was his only shot at surviving this crazy world.
He peeked over the stall. The blue-robed enforcers were shoving through the crowd, their swords glinting under lantern light. Jian Hao was nowhere in sight—probably too busy polishing his hero ego—but his goons were bad enough.
Ling's arm throbbed where Jian's sword had grazed him, the tattered gray robes barely hiding the blood. He needed to move, fast.
[Mission update: Evade sect pursuit. New objective: Reach the outer disciple quarters undetected. Reward: 100 Villain Points. Failure: Capture or death.]
"Great, another death threat," Ling grumbled, ducking into the shadows of a narrow street.
The system's voice was cold, like an AI with zero chill. But those Villain Points sounded important, and he wasn't about to get caught by Jian's fan club.
The outer disciple quarters were his best bet—a low-rent corner of the Azure Cloud Sect where a nobody like "Ling Chen, the cannon-fodder villain" could blend in.
He weaved through back alleys, avoiding lantern-lit paths. The sect loomed in the distance, its jade rooftops shimmering under the moon like something out of a fantasy game. But this was no game. One wrong move, and he'd be dead. Again.
After what felt like an eternity, Ling slipped through a side gate into the outer disciple quarters. Ramshackle huts lined a muddy courtyard, the air heavy with the smell of cheap incense .
A few disciples lounged around, griping about chores or bragging about their measly Qi Condensation levels. Ling kept his head down, his gamer instincts screaming to stay off the radar.
His new body sucked. Scrawny, weak, and barely able to sense the "qi" everyone kept yammering about.
Back on Earth, he'd been no athlete, but at least he could run without gasping like a fish.
This Ling Chen guy? Total loser. No wonder the novel killed him off early.
[Mission complete: Reached outer disciple quarters. Reward: 100 Villain Points. New mission: Steal a Low-Grade Spirit Herb from the sect's garden within 24 hours. Reward: 200 Villain Points, Minor Cultivation Boost. Failure: System penalty.]
Ling froze, hiding behind a hut. "A spirit herb? From the sect's garden?" he whispered, glancing at the system screen. "You want me to rob the people who already want me dead?"
The system didn't answer, because of course it didn't. Just his luck—a glorified quest log with a sadistic streak.
He slumped against the wall, catching his breath. The tingling warmth from the system's last reward—Basic Qi Manipulation—still lingered in his chest. He could feel it, like a faint buzz, but had no clue how to use it.
In the novel, spirit herbs were like power-up potions, boosting cultivation. If he could snag one, maybe he'd stop feeling like a level-one noob in a max-level raid.
The sect's garden wasn't far, tucked behind the inner disciple halls. But it was guarded, and Ling wasn't exactly a ninja. Still, 200 Villain Points and a cultivation boost? Worth a shot.
He'd cheesed harder challenges in games with worse odds.
Ling crept through the quarters, sticking to the shadows. The garden's stone wall loomed ahead, topped with glowing runes that probably screamed "intruder alert."
A single guard patrolled the gate, a burly guy with a spear and a bored expression.
Ling's rusted dagger, still tucked in his belt from the alley, felt like a bad joke against that.
[Suggestion: Use Basic Qi Manipulation to create a distraction. Success rate: 67%.]
"Sixty-seven percent? That's it?" Ling muttered, but he focused on that buzzing qi in his chest. It felt like trying to flex a muscle he didn't know he had.
He pointed at a nearby bush, willing the qi to do something.
A faint spark shot out, rustling the leaves like a gust of wind. The guard's head snapped toward it, and he lumbered over to check.
"Holy crap, it worked," Ling whispered, grinning. He darted to the wall, scrambling over before the runes could fry him.
The garden stretched out, a maze of glowing plants and misty air. Spirit herbs shimmered in neat rows, their leaves pulsing with faint light. Jackpot.
He crouched low, scanning for the least conspicuous herb. A small, silver-leafed plant caught his eye—Low-Grade Spirit Herb, according to the system's pop-up. Perfect.
He reached for it, fingers brushing the leaves, when a cold voice stopped him dead.
"Who's there?"
Ling's heart leapt into his throat. He spun, hiding the herb behind his back.
A figure stood in the moonlight—a girl, maybe his age, with sharp eyes and long black hair tied in a high ponytail.
Her green robes marked her as an inner disciple, way out of his league. She was beautiful, in a "could probably kill me with a glare" kind of way.
"Uh, just… admiring the flowers?" Ling said, flashing a nervous grin. His modern charm was all he had, and it wasn't much.
Her eyes narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "At midnight? In a restricted garden?" She stepped closer, her hand resting on a jade hairpin that probably doubled as a weapon. "You're the one Jian Hao's hunting, aren't you?"
Ling's stomach dropped. The system screen flickered, unhelpfully silent. Was she an ally, an enemy, or something worse?
He tightened his grip on the herb, mind racing for a way out. One wrong word, and he was toast.