The pale light of pre-dawn had not yet fully surrendered to the sun when the city began to stir. From the ground, a few four-wheeled carts rumbled out onto the dew-slicked streets, their wheels crunching over gravel. Above, from the stacked dimensional docking ports etched into the sides of soaring skyscrapers, sleek airships glided into the crisp morning air, their engines humming a low, resonant frequency that vibrated through the steel and glass canyons. Among them, several vessels bearing the Xie family crest departed their manor, weaving with practiced ease through the narrow gaps between monolithic buildings, navigating the man-made forest of a waking Jingyang City.
Inside the transparent cabin of one such ship, Yao stared out, not at the glittering reflections of sunrise on glass facades, nor at the park—the city's purported green lung—they passed, where morning dew clung to leaves like scattered diamonds drinking the light. Her attention was fixed on the rear-view display. The leaves of the trees behind them rustled in a distinct, unnatural pattern. A vessel was there, following, yet the display showed nothing but empty sky. "Invisibility," she murmured, her voice low. "New-model cloaking is banned for civilian use. This has to be an arcane overlay… and to maintain that, the caster would need to be at least Level 35." Her eyes narrowed, the faint glow of the console highlighting the tension in her face.
Abruptly, her pilot slammed the accelerator. The airship lurched forward, engines screaming as it veered sharply around the perimeter of the forest. "It's running! After it!" came a distorted shout from the comms. The pursuing ships, now visible as shimmering distortions in the air, gave chase, matching the violent turn. They ducked and weaved through the urban arteries, closing the distance until Yao's ship swerved into a narrow alleyway.
Below, in the city's most neglected and impoverished quarter, two teenagers helped their mother push a heavy cart out from a dilapidated shack. Their worn canvas shoes splashed through muddy puddles, spraying dirty water. "Mind your clothes, dear," the mother fretted, her voice raspy with years of hardship. "It's fine, I'll clean up later," the girl, Lin Hengjing, replied softly, her hand gently steadying her mother's arm, mindful of the chronic joint pain that plagued the older woman. "You should rest today, Mom. We can manage." The mother shook her head, a weary smile touching her lips. "It's habit now. Besides, with your exams nearby, I can set up a stall outside the center. Yesterday was good, you know? That two million..." The siblings exchanged a glance. They'd learned only last night of their mother's encounter with that Xie second son. Their mother sighed contentedly. "He really is a good person."
Lin Chengxiu felt a familiar twist of disgust. Everything about 'Oaks'—the rumors of illicit pills, the scandalous undergarments—grated against every principle he held as someone clawing his way up from the bottom. He chose not to argue, merely offering a noncommittal smile as he strained against the cart's weight. Suddenly, a shadow passed over them. A low-flying airship shot past with a deafening roar, followed by a double wave of turbulent air that rattled the cart. Chengxiu looked up, then at his sister. Three sets of engine distortions. Chasers. And on the lead ship, a familiar insignia. Xie?
Once clear of the alley, the pursuers acted. A figure stood on the lead ship's hull, raising a hand. Water droplets left from the previous night's rain coalesced from the air, swirling into a massive, shimmering aqueous hand that swept down towards Yao's vessel. Before impact, a voice thundered, "Who goes there!" A fist of pure flame materialized, intercepting the water hand with a violent hiss. Steam erupted, scalding the air as the water was instantly vaporized. From the newly arrived, more official-looking airship, a figure phased through the hull, standing tall on the roof. His gaze, cold and imperious, swept over the now-revealed cloaked ships. The would-be assassins paled, recognizing the markings. "An Economic Ministry official's transport! That means a Level 40+ Arcane Master guard! Run!" But invisible tethers of force gripped their ships. "An arcane vortex! We're—" A series of sharp, electronic beeps cut them off. Then, light. A blinding, concussive explosion engulfed both cloaked ships, the force rattling the larger vessels but causing no serious damage thanks to the guard's quick action—metallic strands shooting from his palms to anchor the ship to nearby buildings. Yao's ship, further away, rode out the shockwave with a shudder. The wrecks, now just burning husks, crashed to the ground.
The hatches opened. Jian Feilan stormed out, his face a mask of fury, which darkened further when he saw who disembarked from the other ship. "Oaks! You again! Was this your doing?!" Yao met his glare. Fatigue from the previous day and the fresh adrenaline crash left her feeling hollow, her usual defiant demeanor subdued. "Is fleeing for one's life ever deliberate?" she replied, her voice flat. She noted the specifications of his airship and the level of his guard. This wasn't just a ride; this was an escort by a high-ranking official's son. "I saw I was being followed. I came this way because this street's monitors link directly to the City Defense Guard. With exams on, they're on high alert. I had hoped they'd intervene. It was not my intention to cause trouble." The facade of the brash, coarse noble scion was useless now. These people saw calculation, not clumsiness. But she would not accept a false accusation, especially not from the son of Vice Minister Jian, Zhou Linlang's superior. "Is your craft functional?" the Vice Minister's voice came from within. Yao was about to affirm when the guard subtly tugged on a maneuvering fin. Crunch.It snapped off. "Apologies," the guard said tonelessly. "It appears to be damaged." Yao stared, incredulous. Jian Feilan looked equally surprised but held his tongue. "Inside. Now. We must not be late for the exams," the Vice Minister commanded.
Yao complied. Inside the opulent cabin, aside from the Vice Minister, sat a young man in an elegant silver suit. He had a striking presence, like a lone pine gracing a cliff or the last streak of sunset—immediately noticeable. A college examinee? Dressed too formally. Yao's thoughts raced. He was older, his sharp features giving him a vibrancy that belied his years. He occupied the primary seat, and the guard's caliber clearly exceeded what a mere vice-minister of a provincial economic department would rate. So, the protection was for him. The Vice Minister offered no introduction, a silent command to maintain discretion. He gestured for Yao to sit, his eyes warning against any impropriety. Yao offered a slight, polite nod to the young man and sat by the window, sinking into a silence punctuated only by Jian Feilan's hostile stares. Outside, authorities were already swarming the crash site. The investigation would yield nothing; the bombs were a clear message of elimination, a desperate move by someone fearing exposure. The coincidence of encountering the Ministry leadership was a staggering twist of fate Yao couldn't yet classify as good or ill.
The flight to the Education Center was short and tense. As they approached, Yao felt a gaze upon her. The young man spoke, his tone even, revealing nothing. "I heard Zhou Linlang visited you last night." Yao's internal alarms screamed. Was this a suitor? A rival? "Inspector Zhou helped me during the garbage planet affair," she answered carefully. "She later facilitated the fair sale of my farm's produce. She is... a good person." She quickly changed the subject. "Could I disembark before the center? I haven't eaten breakfast." Jian Feilan snorted. "What? Gonna jump out?" The young man glanced outside. "Granted." As the ship landed and Yao stepped out, Jian Feilan followed. "What are you eating? I'm starved too." His eyes scanned the myriad food stalls, then widened. "Why are there so many ducks?" Indeed, the plaza was dominated by duck-themed fare: duck neck soup, blood curd stew, braised legs, steamed buns. A vendor called out, "Delicious vermicelli! Jingyang's Duck King! Guaranteed to energize!" The Minister himself, peering out, remarked, "That does look rather tasty. Purchase a portion." His ship departed, carrying the curious meal away.
Yao walked past the duck stalls, considering a simple meal, when she spotted a familiar pancake cart. The woman operating it beamed at the sight of Yao and insisted on giving her a free meal. "No, one portion, please," Yao declined. "Make it two. He's paying," Jian Feilan declared, appearing beside her. Yao shot him a look. "He's paying," he insisted. "That was my father's ship. The Minister's own vessel was undergoing maintenance. The least you can do is cover the fare." Yao turned away with a sigh. "Add the cheapest option for him. No meat. No extras." She was grateful but pragmatic. As the woman prepared the food, Jian Feilan noticed the helpers. "Lin Chengxiu? What are you doing here? Is that your mother? Good grief, with what you two must earn, how can you let her—" His thoughtless words were cut short as Yao's hand clamped over his mouth. He glared, sputtering as she released him and shoved a steaming pancake into his grasp. "Is it good?" she asked flatly. Annoyed but restrained by his upbringing, he took a bite. His expression shifted. "...It's actually quite good." The mother, initially embarrassed, brightened considerably at the compliment from the young noble, happily offering two bottles of soy milk. The siblings had amassed more than enough wealth, but they understood their mother's need for purpose, for the simple dignity of her work—a truth too complex to explain. Lin Hengjing simply focused on kneading dough, while Lin Chengxiu's cold gaze swept over Jian Feilan. "Everyone has their worth," Yao remarked offhandedly. "A life without purpose is like a salted fish." Stung, Jian Feilan retorted, "And what's yourworth? Ducks?" "The Duck King," Yao deadpanned. Jian Feilan choked on his soy milk, spraying it onto a groundhog wearing overalls and a hat, which then drew exclamations of 'cute' from the crowd. The creature scowled at Yao before scurrying off, muttering into a communicator. A moment later, Yao's device buzzed. A message flashed: Captain! Just saw that scumbag! I hope he fails miserably... I'll curse him for you! By the way, is this the middle school or high school exam? I don't want to get the wrong venue.Yao sighed, deleting the message. The center's broadcast announced twenty minutes until the exam. Students streamed towards the gates. Yao joined the flow. To the Lin siblings, watching her walk away, her figure seemed oddly solitary amidst the bustling crowd.
Inside the examination hall, the five hundred candidates—fewer than the day before, yet the space felt more crowded with the influx of anxious families and observers—buzzed with nervous energy. Yao's primary worry was no longer the test itself, but what would come after. She glanced towards Yu Qin, knowing her as A'Qi, and wondered about the groundhog's arrival. Her gaze then fell upon a woman in a simple beige outfit walking towards Yu Qin and her mother. She was tall, slender, with an unassuming, scholarly air. Suddenly, Yao sensed a sharp intake of breath beside her. Xie An. He was startled, a flicker of fear in his eyes before he mastered himself. Yao observed the woman—Qin Yu, a researcher, seemingly ordinary. Why would she unnerve Xie An so? Was she somehow connected to Xie Yao? Paranoia, perhaps. The woman chatted easily with Yu Qin's mother. "The institute isn't too busy lately. What brings you to Jingyang?" "My project wrapped up. The team lead next door wanted to conscript me. I had to escape before I worked myself to death." "You should rest! Always with your medicine. Ironic, isn't it? We research pharmaceuticals but are our own best customers. Where's our endorsement fee?" They shared a light laugh. Yu Qin spoke respectfully with the woman before heading to the examination area. As she passed Yao, she noted the tense figure rapidly typing on a communicator. Yao was, in fact, pulling up the file on Qin Yu. Ordinary background. A researcher. Not an Arcanist. Her suspicion had been misplaced. Relief washed over her just as the main broadcast blared.
"The third stage commences now! This is a manual-instance examination. Duration: 48 hours. One permitted exit for rest or healing. All external resources are permitted. Lethal force is authorized. Withdrawal is permitted. Scoring mechanisms are self-directed. Note: This instance is a interlinked spatial construct. As you progress to deeper strata, you may encounter candidates from two other randomly selected cities within the province. Exercise extreme caution."
The hall erupted in chatter. Inter-city examination? The competition had just expanded exponentially. It was a crucible designed to pit the best against the best. Would she encounter Qin Minfeng? Tension spiked among the top candidates. As the weakest city, Jingyang's students faced a grim prospect.
The candidates entered. The entrance was a long, crimson-lit corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity. The pulsating glow was disorienting, nauseating. "Why does it feel endless?" "This light... I feel dizzy..." Yao braced herself against the wall, looking up at the source—the light emanated from every surface, floor, walls, ceiling. A wave of vertigo hit her. Thud.She collapsed, along with everyone else. Before losing consciousness, she heard a maniacal giggle, and in her swimming vision, a massive shadow loomed at the end of passage. Its steps were heavy, labored, each footfall echoing with the clank of chains against leather. A giant, three meters tall, wearing a blood-stained, conical straw mask, its arms elongated and brutish. It was hunched over, carrying a massive, dripping coffin on its back. Then, nothing.
Yao awoke to pain. Her wrists, ankles, and neck were locked in heavy manacles. Gasping, she pushed herself up against the cold, damp stone of a prison cell holding fifty people. She recognized a few—Yu Qin, Jian Feilan, Zhang Jun, Lan Bing. All were similarly restrained. Someone tried to summon arcane energy. "Damn it! My spells won't work! I can't channel elements!" "Idiot! It's not that you can't—there areno elements to channel!" The reality sank in. A null-element zone. They were trapped, reliant solely on their physical attributes. Despair filled the cell.
Then, a sound. Not the heavy trudging, but a light, skipping gait accompanied by a horribly off-key singsong voice. "Barbara, happy little player, skulls will hit the floor, a thrilling little flay, candle wax will drip right in your eye, let's play and play, eighteen choose one, you can't get away, la la la..." The voice grew closer. "Cell 001, you're the one, let's have some fun, don't you run, la la la, little darling, having fun?" The meaning was clear. A game. A sadistic game master. "001's first. At least we can see what happens." "Right." "With fifty per cell... ten cells? We must be isolated until a certain depth." Their acceptance was swift. The singing stopped. They were at the door. "We're 001! On guard!" Yao shouted. The others, startled, scrambled up as best they could in their chains. A sudden, sharp cry. "Hey!" A figure dropped from the ceiling, landing with a sickening crunch of bone and splatter of viscous, red-tinged fluid. Those who hadn't dodged became cushions, crushed and coughing blood. The first strike. Screams of terror filled the cell. Yao, who had evaded, ignored the throbbing in her limbs. It wasn't a corpse, she realized. It was a doll. Now shattered. From the wreckage, black mist coalesced, forming a figure in a frilly pink dress, oversized bow, fishnet stockings, and red high heels. Barbara. She looked at the ruined doll and her eyes welled with fake tears. "You broke my baby! Barbara will punish you in the name of the great Clues! You'll all become dolls!" She pointed her glittering wand. Those who had been too slow to avoid the doll now found high-heeled shoes—vivid, garish red—materializing and clamping onto their feet, regardless of size or gender. Thirty-two people were now trapped in heels, trying in vain to shake them off. Yao's scalp prickled. She saw Barbara's grip tighten on the wand. "Since it's a gift from Lady Barbara, you should accept it gratefully," Yao said quickly. "Such beautiful shoes. They must be very expensive." Barbara's hand, poised to punish the strugglers, lowered. Lan Bing seized the opportunity. "Regardless of cost, they reflect your impeccable taste. Money is no object. What else might you desire, Lady Barbara? Jewels? Fine garments? More shoes? I would procure them all for you." Flattery was a valid strategy. Barbara's breathing eased. A coy smile played on her lips. "No need, big brother. I just want to play games, not your money... How much doyou have?" "Whatever you wish for, I will provide," Lan Bing said smoothly. Barbara tapped him with her wand. A flicker of elemental energy returned to him. He didn't attack. Instead, he produced a chest of jewels. "A paltry offering, unworthy of your radiance." Barbara clapped her hands, spinning with delight. "Good! You are exempt from one game! Be my audience! And take fifty points!" A wave of shock and envy passed through the cell. Yao had to admit the Lan family training was effective. Now he had the advantage. Others began clamoring, but Barbara waved them off. "Quiet! Or I'll cut out your tongues!" She turned to Yao. "How did you know I'd pick this cell?" "Your song mentioned 'eighteen choose one'. I'm the only eighteen-year-old here. And you sang of skulls hitting the ground... which happened." Barbara nodded. "The old ones are always cunning. Since you're right..." Yao braced for a reward. "...You, old man, will play the first game!" She pointed her wand. Yao's chains snapped taut, hoisting her into the air. Barbara approached, her smile sweet and terrifying. "Answer correctly, you go free. Answer wrong, and you become a doll, with heels to match. What color are my panties today?" The cell fell into a stunned silence. Yao's mind raced. This was the work of a truly twisted examiner. She focused, recalling the split-second view during the doll's fall. "Champagne. And white." Barbara's eyes narrowed. "Wrong!" "The dolls are your creations, reflecting your taste. The doll wore champagne. But you asked for 'panties', implying a layer. A white safety layer is common. It's a matter of prudence." Barbara tilted her head, then broke into a wide smile. "Correct! And the bonus round! One hundred points! You may sit." Yao was lowered, her chains noticeably lighter and thinner. The game had just begun, and the air was already thick with the metallic scent of fear and the unsettling sweetness of spilled puppet blood.