Time ticked by at a glacial pace, each second stretching into eternity as Wang Chen stared at the empty air before him. The silence of the Tower pressed in from every direction—thick, endless, and absolute.
He waited.
For his final reward.
Years of grinding, years of sweat, blood, and ghosts had led him here, and yet… somehow, it all felt too quiet.
Wang Chen's lips twitched, curling into a faint smirk that betrayed the storm brewing inside him. A single skill? After everything he'd gone through, the idea felt almost insulting.
A laugh, soft and bitter, escaped his throat.
"Is this too little?" he muttered under his breath, his voice echoing faintly through the vast, dim space. "Why don't you let me inherit the strength of the Avatar instead?"
