Lin Feng sat against the damp stone wall of his cell, the darkness enveloping him like a shroud. His hands, still stained with blood, lay limply in his lap, his breathing slow and measured. The cell offered no window to the world outside, no glimpse of the sky—only the suffocating closeness of stone and shadow.
The Overseer appeared beside him, its form flickering with uncertainty. It began to speak, its voice tinged with hesitation. "Lin Feng, the procedure intended to—"
"Overseer, leave the cell." Lin Feng's interruption was calm but firm.
The entity paused, confusion rippling through its essence. "But I need to explain—"
"Leave the cell," Lin Feng repeated, his voice colder, more detached. The Overseer, though still bewildered, complied, moving outside the bars to float in the dim corridor.
Lin Feng observed the Overseer's passage through the bars with intense, ruby-red eyes. A subtle tremor passed through his gaze before he closed his eyes and whispered to himself, "Just walk, just walk."
He rose slowly, his movements deliberate. With his eyes still closed, Lin Feng stepped forward, his body phasing through the cell bars as if they were mere illusions. He emerged on the other side, leaving the Overseer in stunned silence.
This ability, this phasing through solid matter, was beyond Lin Feng's known capabilities. "How...?" the Overseer began, its voice a mix of awe and alarm.
"I am returning to Qinghe," Lin Feng stated simply, cutting off any further questions. He opened his Status Panel, his expression unreadable. There, he noticed a new skill—Phase Walk—which had enabled his escape. His gaze flicked to his Gift Points; he read the balance : Not enough.
Without hesitation, Lin Feng selected his Advanced Qi Gathering and Deep Meditation skills and gifted them. The recipient was still the young woman from the entrance exam, Yue Xi, though he did not know her name. This act swiftly netted him 30 Gift Points, although these actions were ones he didn't fully grasp the depth of, made more in a desperate move than anything else.
The Overseer, witnessing this rapid and reckless gifting of essential skills, couldn't contain its dismay. "What have you done?!" it cried out, its voice echoing in the stark corridor.
Lin Feng ignored the outcry. With his newly acquired points, he accessed the Gift Shop once more and quickly located an item he remembered from his previous visit—a One Way Return Ticket. The item description promised a single-use teleportation to any previously visited location:
One Way Return Ticket
"A simple paper ticket, seemingly ordinary yet imbued with powerful spatial magic. Allows the bearer to return once to any location they have physically been before. No journey too far, no path too winding—home is but a step away."
After purchasing the ticket, Lin Feng immediately activated it. His form shimmered, then disappeared, leaving behind only the echo of his departure. The cell now stood empty, the Overseer left grappling with the ramifications of what had just transpired.
In Qinghe, Lin Feng reappeared in the modest confines of his old home, his demeanor cold and detached. His personality, now decisively altered, betrayed no hint of his intentions or feelings. He was a figure shrouded in mystery, his actions and motives inscrutable, even to the omnipresent gaze of the Overseer.
Lin Feng materialized inside the familiar yet long-uninhabited confines of his old home in Qinghe. The house was conspicuously large for a solitary young man; its spacious rooms and hallways seemed designed to accommodate a family, with echoes of laughter and conversation long since faded into silence. The furnishings were modest, the decor sparse—a stark contrast to the potential for warmth and life the space held.
As Lin Feng took in his surroundings, the Overseer materialized beside him, its presence a constant reminder of the bond forged through the Gifting System. The air was heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts as Lin Feng moved deliberately towards a small altar situated in a quiet corner of the living room.
The altar held photographs of two people—a man and a woman—whose features bore a striking resemblance to Lin Feng. The man's expression was kind yet somber, his eyes holding a depth of wisdom and sorrow; the woman, with a gentle smile, seemed to radiate warmth and kindness, her eyes reflecting a fierce spirit.
Lin Feng conjured a tiny spark from his fingers, a simple manifestation of his Qi, and lit a few sticks of incense placed before the altar. He then knelt down, his movements reverent and solemn. From inside his robes, he picked up an aged book—his mother's collection of legends—and began to read aloud. His voice was low, imbued with a mix of nostalgia and sadness.
"In a forgotten corner of the world, a lone crow embarked on a journey across the realms, seeking the elusive joy known as happiness. With each world it discovered, it grew stronger, its wings carrying it ever forward, eyes fixed on distant horizons..."
As he read, a single tear traced its way down Lin Feng's cheek.
Closing the book softly, Lin Feng rose and faced the Overseer, his gaze intense and probing. "How much is a human worth?" he asked, his voice steady yet laden with underlying complexity.
The Overseer, taken aback by the abrupt question, faltered, unable to comprehend the depth of what Lin Feng was seeking. "I... do not understand the context of your query," it replied, its voice betraying its confusion.
Lin Feng sighed, a sound filled with resignation and unspoken pain. He turned away, walking towards an old storage closet. From within, he retrieved a simple-looking knife, its blade unremarkable but well cared for. The Overseer watched, silent and apprehensive, as Lin Feng stepped outside into the dead of night.
The village of Qinghe was asleep, its inhabitants oblivious to the turmoil within Lin Feng. He stood silently in the darkness outside his house, the cool night air wrapping around him like a cloak. As he gazed at the neighboring wooden houses, each one a mirror of his own, memories began to unfurl, their vivid scenes punctuated by the soft sounds of the sleeping village.
The village square was aglow with hundreds of colorful lanterns, each one bobbing gently in the breeze. Children ran through the crowd with sparklers in their hands, their laughter piercing the night. Lin Feng, a young boy then, raced alongside them, his face alight with excitement. The faces of the other children were a blur, their features indistinct, but their voices rang clear, a chorus of joyous shrieks. An elderly man, his face just a smudge in Lin Feng's recollection, handed Lin Feng a lantern, his voice a warm, indistinguishable murmur, "For you, young explorer." Lin Feng took the lantern, its light painting his delighted smile in warm hues.
The villagers gathered around a large bonfire, the flames casting dancing shadows across the snow. Lin Feng, wrapped in a thick scarf, sat on a log, mesmerized by the fire's crackle and pop. An older woman, her face a blurred impression of wrinkles and smiles, narrated tales of ancient heroes and mythical beasts. Her voice, though distinct in Lin Feng's memory, melded with the others into a comforting, familiar drone. "And the hero, with courage as vast as the sea, faced the storm..." Children huddled closer, their faces indistinct but their presence warm and comforting, as the firelight flickered across their awed expressions.
The riverbanks were alive with the sounds of summer—water splashing, children shouting, and the distant calls of birds. Lin Feng, among a group of village kids, skipped stones across the smooth surface of the river. The faces of his friends were blurry, their features interchangeable, but their camaraderie was palpable. One girl, her outline hazy in the bright sunlight, laughed as she threw a stone, challenging, "Bet you can't beat that, Lin Feng!" Her voice, like the others, was eerily similar to the rest, a ghostly echo in the vibrant landscape.
Each memory, though bright and filled with laughter, carried an undercurrent of surrealness—faces were blurry, voices eerily similar. Now, standing alone in the quiet of the night, those days of innocence and joy seemed worlds away from the solitary figure he had become. The warmth of the memories contrasted sharply with the cold resolve settling in his heart, the knife in his hand a stark reminder of the path he was poised to take.
Lin Feng approached his neighbor's house, the familiarity of the structure doing nothing to slow his grim resolve. As he reached the wooden front door, his body effortlessly phased through it, a chilling testament to his newfound, unnerving abilities.
Inside, the house was unassuming, a snapshot of village life. Children's toys were scattered on the floor, a stark contrast to the somber mood that Lin Feng carried with him. The glow of dying embers in the fireplace cast a faint, flickering light, giving the room a ghostly ambiance. Everything was quiet, the only sounds the soft crackling of the fire and Lin Feng's silent footsteps as he moved towards the bedrooms.
He entered the first bedroom where the parents slept. They were older, their features soft and relaxed in sleep, completely unaware of the danger that had silently entered their home. Lin Feng's actions were swift and cold; his knife flashed in the dim light, slicing the father's throat without hesitation. His Status Panel flickered: +10. He noted the change impassively and turned to the mother. Another slash, and the panel updated: +12.
Moving with a ghostly precision, Lin Feng then entered the children's rooms. Each room was a small cosmos of childhood, walls adorned with drawings and beds surrounded by stuffed animals. But the innocence of these spaces did nothing to stay Lin Feng's hand. As he dispatched each child, his Status Panel incremented again, each number noted with mechanical dispassion.
After completing the grim task, Lin Feng stood alone in the darkened living room. His form was nothing more than a shadow, his face an impassive mask, his eyes cold and detached. The silence was profound, broken only by the occasional pop and hiss from the fireplace.
Lin Feng left the house and moved through his former village like a ghost, his presence unnoticed until it was far too late. The Overseer had risen up above in the sky, to survey all that was currently occurring, it understood what was bound to happen yet did not utter a word to Lin Feng, not even a small ounce of reticence.
The village chief's residence was more imposing than the humble abodes surrounding it. Built with sturdy wood and adorned with symbols of authority and prosperity, it stood as a testament to his leadership. Lin Feng entered silently, his movements barely causing a stir in the air. The chief, a man known for his wisdom and strength, lay vulnerable in the grasp of sleep. As Lin Feng's knife found its mark, his Status Panel updated with a chilling +18. The chief's wife, startled awake by a sound she could not place, met the same fate—+16.
At the village guardhouse, two young guards lounged, their vigilance undone by the quiet of the night. They were trained for confrontation but not for the spectral-like threat that Lin Feng posed. Each guard fell before they could rise, their youth and strength no match for Lin Feng's eerie precision. The knife grew perceptibly darker as it claimed their lives—+19 for each, reflecting their potential had they reached maturity in their roles.
The blacksmith's forge was silent, the fires doused for the night, but the residual heat lingered, casting a faint orange glow. The blacksmith himself, a mountain of a man celebrated for his craftsmanship and brute strength, was no stranger to combat. Yet, he too was unprepared for the silent threat that entered his home. As the blade sliced through the air, it met little resistance; the blacksmith was dispatched with a brutal efficiency that belied the somber setting—+20.
The orphanage, usually a place of laughter and playful shouts, was hauntingly quiet. Lin Feng entered with the same silent dread that had marked his previous stops. The caretaker, an elderly woman whose life had been dedicated to nurturing the lost and forgotten, barely stirred as Lin Feng approached. Her end came quietly, almost gently, with a stark +8 registering on his panel. The orphans, asleep in their beds, knew nothing of the horror that visited them—each small life extinguished added only +6 to Lin Feng's grim tally.
With each life taken, Lin Feng's knife seemed to absorb some essence of the night, its blade growing darker, almost consuming the faint light it encountered. By the time he stood alone in the village square, the knife was an abyssal black, reflecting none of the morning light that began to seep into the sky.
Standing in the center of the now silent village, Lin Feng gazed dispassionately over the scene of his cold calculations. The morning light began to touch the rooftops, casting shadows that seemed to deepen the stillness. Lin Feng spoke aloud, his voice devoid of emotion, analyzing the outcomes of his actions as if recounting the results of a clinical experiment:
"Experience Points appear to be quantified based on a standard measure, where an average adult male in his forties, possessing neither cultivation potential nor elemental affinity, serves as the baseline at 10 points. The presence of an elemental affinity appears to modify this value, adding between 2 to 4 points depending on the affinity's nature and strength."
"Interestingly, age does not directly influence the point allocation. Children yield fewer points, likely reflecting their lower physical and mental attributes rather than their youth per se. This aligns with the observation that experience points are tied more closely to one's developed capabilities rather than chronological age."
"The guards and the blacksmith provided an intriguing comparison. Both groups had similar strength attributes, indicative of their physical roles, yet there was a noticeable discrepancy in the points awarded. The blacksmith accrued one additional point, suggesting that individual skill levels, such as his expertise in blacksmithing, are factored into the valuation. This contrasts with the guards whose basic training in combat did not equate to a specialized skill set as advanced as that of the blacksmith."
"Furthermore, the village chief and his wife, despite harboring minimal Qi within their Dantian, were awarded points that were higher than the baseline. This indicates that even marginal cultivation efforts are recognized and valued above basic human attributes. Without their slight Qi accumulation, their scores would likely fall below the standard threshold of 10 points."
Lin Feng paused, his analysis complete. His tone remained detached, the data distilled from a night of horror reduced to mere variables and equations. The human cost, the extinguished lives of those he once knew, was relegated to mere footnotes in his grim summary.
The Overseer floated back to Lin Feng's eye level, its presence almost soothing against the backdrop of the night's events. "I understand," it began, its voice neutral. "What will you do now, Lin Feng?"
Lin Feng took a few moments to collect his thoughts, the weight of recent revelations bearing down on him. Finally, he responded, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of deep contemplation. "I need to understand the difference in power between the traditional path of cultivation and the unconventional means of gaining levels and experience points through the Gifting System. Which is more potent? Which offers more potential? These are questions only I can answer."
He paused, then continued, "There's also the depth of the Gifting System to consider. To what extent can I offer things? Is there truly no way to reclaim what I've gifted? I need to perform experiments to understand these mechanics fully. Additionally, I must gain strength gradually to avoid drawing undue attention, especially since the higher-ups in the Azure Dragon Sect are likely aware of my escape, which was achieved through means beyond my apparent capabilities."
Lin Feng sighed heavily, the burden of his self-imposed tasks weighing visibly on him. "My former self has left much work for me to handle. It's going to be exhausting..." He paused briefly, recalling another crucial element he had been neglecting. "And then there's the Legacy of the Crystal Oracle. I'll need to delve deeply into that too, to uncover its full capabilities and secrets."
The Overseer, whose presence was defined by its role as a guide devoid of judgment, listened intently, ready to assist Lin Feng in navigating these complex paths. It added, "Also, explore the evolution tree of the System. And remember, do not overuse the Gifting System. Each gift carries significant risks."
After a brief pause, the Overseer ventured to ask, "But what do you truly want to achieve, Lin Feng?"
Lin Feng's response was simple yet profound. "Understanding" he said quietly.
This statement was simple, and the Overseer took it as such yet the true magnitude of Lin Feng's ambition was something even the Overseer could not fully appreciate.