The library had stopped resisting Cael.
It didn't welcome him—nothing so sentimental—but the shelves no longer shuddered when he brushed past, and the air no longer pressed against his lungs like a held breath. Dust, wipe, seal-check, breathe. The rhythm had settled into him.
He was finishing shelf five when the doors creaked open.
"There he is," someone whispered far too loudly.
Cael turned.
Three familiar faces stood just inside the doorway, failing miserably at subtlety.
"Lunch," Jin said with a grin. "Before the dining hall turns feral."
Cael glanced toward the inner desks.
The Bookkeeper didn't look up.
That meant yes.
The dining hall buzzed with noise—trays clattering, voices overlapping, the competitive undercurrent of newly awakened cultivators testing their place.
They claimed a corner table.
"I'm Jin," the sharp-eyed one said as he sat. "Caravan family. If it could be counted, it was counted. Cultivation was meant to be a more exciting profession."
"You still watch portions," Cael noted.
Jin sighed. "It's a sickness."
"I'm Bo," the broad-shouldered disciple said. "Border villages. Grain fields. I chased off beasts before I could spell my own name."
"That explains the stance," Cael said.
"And I'm Ren," the third added quickly. "Village elder said if I didn't join the sect, I'd be married by winter."
Bo blinked. "Dangerous ultimatum."
Ren nodded solemnly. "I fled."
They laughed.
"So what do you do in the library?" Bo asked.
"Clean. Check seals. Watch for reactions."
"Reactions?" Ren leaned in.
"The elder warned me—if a manual hums, sweats, or whispers, I stop immediately."
The table went quiet.
"…Whispers," Jin repeated.
"That's not normal," Bo muttered.
Ren frowned. "My village had stories about sweating manuals. None ended well."
Cael chuckled. "That's what I thought."
They traded theories—inscription resonance, sealed spirits, offended ancestors—none convincing, all entertaining.
For a while, Cael forgot everything else.
Then a voice cut in.
"Well this is something."
A cultivator stood beside their table, arms crossed, insignia gleaming. His gaze lingered on Cael, then shifted dismissively to the others.
"You awakened, and this is how you spend your time?" he scoffed. "Eating with a servant?"
Bo stiffened. Jin opened his mouth—
And Cael felt it.
A familiar pressure settled behind his ribs.
Probabilistic Correction Opportunity DetectedContext: Public disrespect (pride-based hostility)Target: Single (unaware)
Select Outcome Severity
A) Minor Awkwardness• Social stumble• Target retreatsReward:Luck Thread (Faint)
B) Public Discomfort• Visible embarrassment• Loss of faceReward:Star Fragment (Low Grade)
C) Severe Social Collapse• Accidental physical mishap• Crowd amusement• Lingering reputation damageReward:• Embarrassment Progression +2• Star Alignment Insight (Minor)
Cael looked down at his tray.
He chose C.
The pressure vanished.
Nothing happened.
The cultivator snorted and shifted his weight—just as a passing disciple brushed the edge of the table behind him. The contact was light, almost apologetic.
But it forced him to step back.
His heel snagged the loose tail of his belt sash.
The knot slipped.
He frowned, distracted mid-scoff, and reached down without looking—pulling the sash free instead of tightening it.
Gravity took over.
His trousers slid halfway down.
"What—?"
A nearby disciple laughed, thinking it was a joke.
Flustered, the cultivator tried to step forward.
His foot caught the fallen fabric.
He pitched forward.
Arms windmilled.
A sect brother carrying a bowl of soup turned at exactly the wrong moment.
They collided.
Soup flew.
The bowl shattered.
Both men went down in a tangle of limbs, robes, and angles that left no room for dignity.
For a heartbeat, the hall was silent.
Then it exploded.
Laughter ripped through the dining hall like a wave.
"DID YOU SEE THAT?!""WRONG KIND OF DUAL CULTIVATION!""HE DIDN'T EVEN ASK FIRST!"
The fallen cultivator scrambled, trying to disentangle himself, only making things worse as his trousers refused to cooperate.
"I—THIS—!"
The other disciple shoved him away, mortified.
Elders rushed in, faces stern—
And promptly had to turn away.
One coughed violently into his sleeve.Another pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders shaking.A third barked "Order!" with suspiciously unsteady authority.
The cultivator finally freed himself, yanked his trousers up, and fled the hall to thunderous laughter.
Outcome Recorded: Severe Social CollapseRewards Granted:• Embarrassment Progression +2• Star Alignment Insight (Minor)
The table stared.
Ren wiped tears from his eyes. "That… was tragic."
Bo wheezed. "I think I pulled something laughing."
Jin shook his head in awe. "I've never seen karma move that fast."
Across the hall, the Bookkeeper stood near a pillar, sleeves folded.
He did not smile.
But his eyes crinkled.
And Cael, for the first time, understood something important.
The system didn't make him powerful.
It made the world slightly worse for people who deserved it—
And absolutely hilarious for everyone else.