The morning sun stretched lazily over a small, forgotten border city. The walls leaned, the gates squeaked, and half the population consisted of chickens and old men who argued about chickens.
On the highest roof lay a young man with snow-white hair and a handsome face that screamed wasted potential.
Zeke Blade. Sixteen. Once a direct heir of the mighty Blade Clan—now demoted to the proud title of "City Lord of Nowhere."
He sighed dramatically. "What a kingdom. Three cows, two drunkards, and a rooster that crows at midnight. A true empire of idiots."
A passing guard looked up. "Good morning, Young Lord!"
"Morning. Try not to die of boredom today—that's my thing."
The guard chuckled awkwardly and hurried off.
Zeke rolled onto his back and stared at the clouds. His once-fine clan robes were faded and patched, his sword chipped. Somewhere beyond the horizon stood the Blade Clan's gleaming estate, home of geniuses who'd laughed him out of the hall.
He smirked bitterly. "They said my sword lacked spirit. Guess they were right—I traded it for sarcasm."
Flashback – The Day of Banishment
The Blade Clan's great hall was silent except for Zeke's ragged breathing. He raised his sword; a dull glimmer of Qi flickered at the edge—and died.
An elder scoffed. "Three years in Qi Refining and that's it? Even servants can do better."
Another sneered. "His blade is dull because his will is dull."
His father stood before the throne, voice cold. "Zeke Blade, from this day forth, you are stripped of main-line rights. You will oversee the northern border city. Reflect on your failures there."
Behind him knelt a woman in black leather, her presence sharp and still.
"She will accompany you," his father added. "Alora Cross. Protect him."
Zeke's lips twisted into a crooked smile. "Exile with a babysitter. How generous."
Back to the Present
A shadow flickered at the edge of the rooftop.
"Cultivation," Alora said, her voice calm, almost mechanical.
Zeke turned, grinning. "Good morning to you too, Miss Assassin of Silence."
She didn't react. "You have not practiced in three days."
"I did," he said. "Spiritually."
Her silence was louder than shouting.
"Fine, fine." He stretched. "You ever get tired of hiding in the dark?"
"It's my duty."
"Yeah, but you could at least pretend to have hobbies."
"Survival is my hobby."
He blinked. "…Remind me never to visit your social gatherings."
That night, under a cold moon, Zeke stood in the courtyard swinging a dull practice blade. His movements were sloppy but stubborn, each strike echoing frustration.
After dozens of failed swings he dropped the sword and slumped against the wall. "No talent in swordsmanship, no clan, no future… guess that makes me unique."
He looked up at the stars. "Fine then. If talent won't save me, I'll just live forever."
[Ding! Sign-In System Activated.]
Zeke froze. "Who said that?"
[Congratulations, Host! You've been chosen by the legendary Sign-In System!]
"…Legendary?"
[Well, the last guy died in the tutorial, but sure.]
He blinked. "So you're… in my head?"
[Correct. Sign in daily, get rewards, and maybe stop embarrassing your bloodline.]
Zeke groaned. "Great. Even the voices are judging me."
[Say 'Sign in.' It's idiot-proof.]
"Sign in."
[Ding! First Sign-In Reward acquired: Invincible Stick.]
A flash of light. When it faded, a plain wooden stick rested in his hand.
He stared. "…A stick?"
[An unstoppable artifact! Bonk any being on the head to knock them out for exactly one minute. No realm limits. No cooldown. One-hundred-percent success rate.]
Zeke gawked. "So I've been given… the power of bonking?"
[Congratulations, Host. You're now armed with blunt enlightenment.]
He sighed. "You and I are going to have a very toxic relationship."
A faint whisper of movement—Alora stepped out of the shadows. "You're awake late."
"Can't sleep," he said, spinning the stick. "Testing a new weapon."
She tilted her head. "That twig?"
"Exactly."
Before she could respond, bonk.
Alora collapsed soundlessly.
Zeke's eyes widened. "Oh no. Oh no no no—Alora!"
He crouched beside her. "Don't die! It was a gentle scientific tap!"
Sixty seconds later she stirred, instantly on her feet. "Did you hit me?"
He raised both hands. "For science."
Her glare could have frozen lava. She turned and vanished into the dark.
[Congratulations, Host. You've defeated a Peak Golden Core expert.]
"Shut up."
[At least you won a fight this decade.]
Later, Zeke sat on the rooftop again, the stick across his knees. "Am I a genius or an idiot?"
[Why not both?]
He snorted.
[Ding! Side Mission unlocked: First Blood.]
"Mission?"
[Objective: Slay one Qi beast in the northern forest. Reward: ???]
"Great. A suicide quest."
[Think positive—you might die with style.]
Zeke slipped through the silent streets and out the gate. The night guards pretended not to notice.
The northern forest was still, except for rustling leaves and distant howls. Moonlight spilled between branches, painting silver lines on the dirt path.
A low growl echoed. A horned wolf stepped out, eyes glowing with Qi.
"Mid Qi Refining," Zeke murmured. "Perfect guinea pig."
He tightened his grip on the stick. "Alright, legendary artifact… don't fail me."
The wolf leapt—
Bonk.
It hit the ground instantly, body twitching.
Zeke blinked. "…It worked again?"
He approached cautiously. The beast still breathed, unconscious.
[Confirmed: the stick works on beasts too. Though you still have to kill it.]
Zeke sighed. "Figures."
He drew his sword and plunged it through the wolf's neck. Light rippled outward as the corpse dissolved into glowing motes.
[Ding! Mission complete. Reward granted: Minor Perfection Sword Intent.]
Zeke froze. "Wait—what?"
A warm current surged through his chest, flowing down his arm. His blade began to hum, the air around it sharp enough to sting his skin.
"This… this is sword intent!" he whispered.
[Minor Perfection level. Try not to die before using it.]
Zeke laughed, exhilarated. "They banished me for being talentless, and now I gain sword intent from killing a dog?"
[Wolf. Qi beast. Show some respect.]
He sheathed the blade, still grinning. "Not bad for day one."
[End of Day One Sign-In. See you tomorrow, Stick Emperor.]
"Don't call me that."
[Too late. It's canon.]